How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

“Isatia?” Vinny called several times, but got no response. She just leaned there against the trunk, letting the wind lift her silk-black hair.

So she really blacked out again?

Vinny hesitated on the spot for a long while, then decided to go wake her. Quiet as this place usually is, leaving a girl asleep out here just isn’t right.

He drew close and found that Isatia was truly deeply asleep. He could hear her steady, even breathing. He even came right up to her and crouched—she didn’t notice at all.

Just like last time in the library: reading with a boy beside her who was only an acquaintance—not close at all—and that boy happened to be bound to her by a betrothal neither of them wanted mentioned. He’s someone she needs to avoid, yet she still fell asleep against him.

Isatia definitely isn’t a casual girl. Maybe, like now, she truly couldn’t fight off that wave of drowsiness and nodded off in the park with a book in her arms.

It left Vinny with a strange impression—made him think of an animal: the koala. It’s awake only a sliver of the day and spends most of its time asleep.

He glanced at the book spread over Isatia’s lap. Just seeing the dense text made his scalp prickle. Worse, he recognized very little of it—looked like Old Empire script, abstruse and archaic, with only a handful of characters still similar to the modern forms.

One glance and his “CPU” started to ache—like his head might split—like he was trying to look straight at words the eye wasn’t meant to see.

Vinny rubbed his temples. It felt like reading the heavens.

Figures. ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) Another history volume—and the original Old Empire text, not a translation.

He was just about to wake her when his gaze slid to her face. Her long lashes—thick as little fans—fluttered a few times.

Vinny rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing things?

The next instant proved he wasn’t. Isatia did blink once, and the moment her gaze found him she was completely awake.

He figured this should be the part where he panicked—but what good would that do? A man has crouched in front of a sleeping girl, and she’s caught him. How is that not embarrassing?

Only, that wasn’t why he panicked.

Staring at the gilt, regal spearheads halted at his throat, Vinny didn’t even dare breathe. One twitch and those cold gleams would prick his neck.

Heh. Heh-heh... it’s fine. Small scene. Back in the Camella capital, didn’t the infamous brat—yours truly—get beaten to his knees in a brawl, sticks aimed at him from all sides?

Small scene. Not my first rodeo. As the original final boss, what haven’t I seen?

—Okay, this one I actually haven’t seen!

Vinny sucked in a cold breath. These golden spears weren’t anything like a thug’s cudgel. Each ornate shaft gave off a real sense it could snatch his soul.

And those violet eyes—so like Aesphyra’s—were keen and imperious, awe-inspiring without a hint of anger. They carried the inborn gaze of a sovereign looking down on a presumptuous ant—like a crowned deity fixing its stare upon him.

I’m toast, aren’t I? Curtains?

Crap—did he just trigger a fate heroine’s stress response?

Why is Isatia as jumpy as a feral cat?

If she thrusts—am I done for outright, or will she stab Vanessa out of me?

Vinny felt dead on his feet—but fortunately the moment didn’t last long.

“You?” Once she saw who it was, much of the ice and vigilance melted from Isatia’s eyes.

She drew back her Spirit Soul. The golden spears that had hovered like loyal guards dissolved into a scatter of fine, delicate sigils.

“What are you doing here?” Isatia didn’t get up; in fact, only her eyes had moved the entire time—then those golden spears fell like rain to either side of Vinny.

Now she simply looked at him calmly, waiting.

“Uh...” Trust the Tyrel royal line, huh? Under those violet eyes, Vinny felt a nameless fear and pressure—like a vampire dragged into the noonday sun—his reflex was to avert, to flee. The intimidation was maxed out.

If Aesphyra ever cut loose, would her pressure be on this level too?

“I—I saw you had blacked out in the abandoned park, so I thought—maybe like last time, you were...” Vinny faltered, explaining slowly.

“So?”

“So... I wanted to check on you. If it was like last time—well, a girl sleeping in a place like this is a little...”

“You wanted to help me?”

“Ah? Uh... I guess... you could call it that.” Vinny nodded dumbly.

“Hah.” Isatia gave a small laugh before he could finish.

It wasn’t friendly, not exactly. It was closer to a mocking little smile—even if she didn’t mean much by it, Vinny could feel it.

The meaning was probably, “You? Help me?” Something like that—an undertone of faint disdain.

Likely the product of the environment that forged her.

Vinny started to speak, then didn’t.

Right. He was being sentimental. Would a great imperial princess need his help?

Isn’t it the other way around?

“Okay then, I won’t bother you. I’m off.” He waved, pasted on a grin, and turned to go.

Damn it—he’d thought Aesphyra was hard enough to deal with. Turns out there’s an even tougher one. Of all the heroines, Isatia feels like the hardest type to get along with. Not happening—not today. Retreat.

Just as he turned away—maybe because he was still rattled and moved too sharply—a small green vial slipped out of his pocket and rolled to Isatia’s knee.

“Ah—sorry, sorry—mine.” He reached to pick it up, but the vial had rolled right to the inner line of her thigh. Now he was mortified—pick it up, or don’t? Either way, it looked bad.

If he reached for it, would Isatia skewer him with a thousand spears?

“An alchemy potion? What potion?” Isatia asked offhandedly.

“Ah, this? Nothing harmful.” Vinny hurried to explain—then he got pinned by her gaze.

“What kind of potion?” Whatever emotion lay in those eyes, it pressed down like an interrogation.

“Restorative.” If he didn’t tell the truth, she’d probably think he was approaching her to poison her with this suspicious green stuff. He could only come clean.

“Restorative? The color doesn’t look it.” Isatia picked up the green potion, watching the liquid turn within as she spoke languidly.

“Potions come in every flavor these days. Without labels, who knows what they do? Even with labels, someone could’ve stuck the wrong one, right?” Vinny spread his hands. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll drink it right now. Satisfied?”

“What kind of restoration?”

“Mm... we don’t know the full range yet, but the main effect, I think, is recovery from mental fatigue,” Vinny said, thinking it through.

“In other words, it’s not on the market.”

“Uh... you could say that.” Vinny had no idea why she was asking.

“You’re saying it restores mental fatigue. How effective?”

“Very. Tested it myself. One sip—wide awake,” Vinny said.

“Did you refine it?”

“That’s... complicated.” He certainly couldn’t tell the truth.

“In that case, I’ll buy this bottle. May I try it?” He’d braced for more questions and was pondering how to dodge them—only for her to ignore the backstory entirely.

“Uh??” Vinny froze. “You—you’re sure??”

“Why? Any concerns?”

“No concerns, but—it’s an unregistered, off-market product,” Vinny said, baffled.

She’s the empire’s crown princess. Even if she were ill, she wouldn’t be grasping at straws. She has the top alchemists in Tyrel behind her. Why would she try random roadside remedies?

“Isn’t that better?” Isatia tilted her head.

“Uh??” He was losing the thread of this princess’s thinking.

“Or is it not for sale?” Isatia lowered her eyes to the vial.

“Not that. But—you’re not worried there’s poison or something inside?”

“Do you have any reason to harm me?” she asked before he could finish.

“No. Of course not.” Vinny pressed his lips together.

“Then why should I worry?”

“Uh... I suppose—you shouldn’t.” He found himself out of answers, staring at the resolute, razor-edged girl before him.

Even if she doesn’t suspect him of poisoning her, shouldn’t she at least worry about the safety of some unregistered liquid?

This princess really—

How to put it? Once she decides on something, she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t doubt. In that way, she’s a lot like Aesphyra.

Not surprising, given they both share Carillian blood.

Then Vinny watched Isatia twist the cap, sniff the green liquid, and drink.

He stood there in silence, saying nothing.

After she swallowed, her half-lowered eyes opened, clear and bright. Gone was the faint murk from before. Radiance returned; the caged majesty of her presence spread its wings.

Vinny’s eyes widened a touch. Just one draught—and her whole aura changed.

Looked like her condition really had been bad. That confirmed his hunch: Isatia had some illness that left her chronically short on mental energy—forced shutdowns.

And a strange one at that—so strange that even the empire’s top medical and alchemical teams couldn’t fix it.

A moment ago, she must have been at the end of her rope. Nothing worked. After every miracle tonic, the same result. On a sudden impulse, she tried a roadside “folk cure.”

Still, Vinny felt it wasn’t entirely random. Fate heroines’ intuition is frighteningly accurate. Odds are that “intuition”—that mysterious something—nudged her to choose and drink his potion.

As for why an ailment the empire’s best couldn’t solve was solved by him—easy.

By-product or not, it’s brewed from the Blessing Angel’s Essence. What in this world can that not heal?

It doesn’t exist. The Blessing Angel’s Essence can cure even a curse personally laid by a Demon Pillar. What’s mental fatigue next to that?

Isatia looked up, then down at the book on her lap. The words that had blurred in exhaustion were now crisp and sharp. Everything was back to how it was before the backlash began clouding her mind.

A flicker of surprise crossed those violet eyes. She’d swallowed the unknown green potion on little more than a hunch—and now her energy had truly returned to full.

Even the very best vitality tonics couldn’t do that.

At first, the high-grade tonics still worked. The further it went, the weaker they became—until they failed completely. Vitality draughts no longer helped her at all.

This special “vitality” potion was different. The moment it went down, the dry well of her spirit filled like an ancient spring surging back to life—everything refreshed and soothed.

“Do you have more?” Isatia fixed on Vinny. “If you do, I’ll buy them all. Money isn’t an issue.”

“And if there’s a supply, I’m happy to take the lot.”

“Uh... Isatia, I don’t have a supply,” Vinny said, mouth twitching.

Supply? The “supplier” is him. His vital blood is nearly tapped. He won’t recover for a while—and even when he does, he has no intention of doing this again. It hurts too much!