How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

[Virtue +120.]

[Current Virtue: 10524.]

With the Virtue jump, Vinny couldn’t help thinking this was the single biggest burst Isatia had ever handed him. Sure, to the number-one big sister on the board, Mirexia, that amount would be pocket change, but at least it was enough to crush that elf brat Milian.

“Sorry about this, Miss Isatia, but I don’t have any supply source for this kind of potion,” Vinny said, spreading his hands in helplessness.

Yeah right—harmless man, guilty by treasure. If a mystery high-grade potion like this gets out, and people learn there’s only one source? He’d be done for.

And if it spreads too far and draws the Dawn Church’s attention? One big inquest later, they discover it contains a Saintess’s blood—and his source would be blown in an instant.

Way too dangerous. Vinny wouldn’t touch that.

“If you still need it, I’ve got a few more here. Look—take all of them.” He fished every green vial out of his pockets and handed them over to Isatia.

“May I ask where you got these?” Isatia wasn’t giving up. This was, so far, the only potion and method she’d found that could treat her ‘collapse of Saint’s Grace.’ She wasn’t about to let it go.

“Ah, that. Long story,” Vinny said, producing the excuse he’d prepared in advance.

“I dug them up by accident over the long break, down in the old basement storehouse back home. No idea who left them. No labels. Didn’t even know what they did. To avoid side effects—or the potion being expired—I tested one on myself. I felt instantly refreshed, so I figured it was a mental-restorative,” Vinny explained.

“Only these few?” Isatia asked.

“Yes. These are all I found,” Vinny nodded.

“There used to be surplus in the basement storehouse, but by now there’s probably nothing left. We had a massive rat infestation a long time ago. A lot of precious collections and treasures got carried off, and that may well have included rare potions that never circulate on the market.”

Isatia glanced at him and held her tongue.

She knew perfectly well what kind of ‘rat infestation’ he meant.

After the Facilis line declined and the Dawn Church expelled the Facilis from the Church, the Church launched a ‘Relics Recovery’—declaring that since the Goddess had withdrawn divine authority, those relics, too, should return to the Dawn Church to bless later generations.

This was something the upper echelons of every country on the Tyrelis Continent knew.

Classic bandit logic. But relations between nations—and between the Church and nations—can’t be judged in black and white. It’s complicated.

So every country could only tacitly accept it. And the Dawn Church’s move did have a veneer of legitimacy: with the Facilis blood gone, there was arguably no one more qualified than the Church to hold the relics.

“If you want them, these few are probably the last of their kind. Whether they can be replicated, I can’t say. You know I study alchemy, Miss Isatia, but I’m honestly not very gifted,” Vinny said, scratching his head.

“Would you sell them?” Isatia asked.

“Hey, hey—what use are they to me? Since you need them, take them. Pay whatever you think is right,” Vinny said with a grin.

He had two options here: declare some sky-high value for the last surviving elixirs to make Isatia cough up more gold—or go for a Virtue burst.

Vinny chose the latter.

“Thank you.”

[Virtue +60.]

[Current Virtue: 10584.]

...Huh. That’s all?

Vinny felt a little sour.

He’d wanted to gauge how generous Isatia was with Virtue.

Tch. Not even as good as a certain white-haired short nut.

Before he could brood, a stone flashing with iridescent color in the sun arced toward him.

Vinny scrambled and caught it. Held to the light, it showed different lusters and hues at different angles: a sapphire the size of half a palm.

Holy—?!

He was stunned. A natural sapphire this big?

Forget this lifetime—even two lifetimes wouldn’t have seen one.

That was outrageously lavish.

He’d long heard the Tyrel Empire was rich in all manner of luxuries and was the largest exporter of gemstones and agates, with especially rich mines.

No wonder the Galathus main house was based in the Empire—so many of their designs were set with these precious gems. The luxury goods their family exported, together with the Empire’s jewels, sold to distant lands; nobles everywhere scrambled for them.

He was rich. Overnight rich!

Vinny was ecstatic. Sell this gem and the money would set him up for the rest of his life.

Why keep busting his back to make money? This natural sapphire could practically buy his life.

It really made a man sigh: what a princess tossed out as a bored afterthought—just a scrap to her—was a height and limit he could hardly dream of reaching.

He took it back: same Carillian blood or not, Her Highness Isatia beat that white-haired short nut. At least she knew how to repay a favor!

Excellent. For this minute, in his eyes, the Tyrel Empire was the rightful heir of the Old Tyrelis Empire!

Isatia looked at the vials in her hand, produced a sealable black pouch, slipped all the potions inside, and tucked it into her skirt pocket.

“Um, Miss Isatia, I often see you reading history. Do you especially like that?” Vinny felt it wasn’t great to keep ogling his payment, so he stowed the gem and changed the subject.

“Vinny, do you know where the potions you sold me come from?” Isatia didn’t answer directly, but posed a new question.

“Huh? No idea,” Vinny said, playing dumb as he must.

“These green potions were very likely refined by one of your ancestors,” Isatia said, palm resting on the book across her lap. “And there’s a good chance they contain a Saintess’s blood.”

“Ah—r-really?” Vinny feigned astonishment, mouth wide enough for a goose egg. “And how would you know that?”

Isatia offered no explanation.

Vinny, of course, knew why she wouldn’t.

When you’re ill, the fewer who know the better—and Isatia’s condition didn’t seem ordinary.

If even the continent’s top alchemists and physicians were helpless, yet derivatives of a Saintess’s blood could cure it—what kind of illness could that be?

Aside from a Demon Pillar’s curse, that left an ailment caused by God-Blood backlash, right?

With what he knew, it wasn’t hard for Vinny to guess.

“Vinny, do you know how the Old Tyrelis Empire was destroyed?” Isatia’s calm gaze shifted to the thick history tome.

“Oh, that? I suppose it was destroyed by a demon invasion,” Vinny said—the answer he’d seen in textbooks.

“The demons seized on the Empire’s weakness, smashed the imperial capital, slaughtered the imperial family, burned city-states, then used it as a springboard to invade other human realms.”

That was the standard textbook takeaway.

“I see. Your ancestors never told you otherwise?” Isatia’s violet eyes turned to him, steady and serene.

“Uh?” Vinny blinked.

There was more to it?

He really didn’t know.

Aesphyra should, though. As the Carillian family’s only legitimate heir now, she had no reason not to.

“So there is more to it?”

“Perhaps your ancestors didn’t have time to tell you before your family fell,” Isatia murmured.

“You may not know what the Empire was really like. At its height, Tyrelis was at its zenith—massed armies, from top to bottom loyal to the imperial house. The Royal Knights’ spearhead made demons tremble. Any one of the countless knight-retinues beneath the Royal Knights could rout the demons’ regular armies.”

“Histories say the demons were extraordinarily united then, but never say why. Demon internal strife has always outstripped humanity’s. So what could herd all those fractured, mutually hostile demon factions into one?”

“A single enemy so overwhelmingly powerful that a flick of its hand meant their annihilation: the Old Tyrelis Empire.”

“At that time, whether it was Peono’s King of Wrath-Dragons, or the grassland’s horse-lord, or our own house—the Lanteville Grand Duke—all were °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° subjects of the Carillian Emperor. Even the Dawn Church’s Saintess, nominally the Emperor’s equal, in the moment of decision had to heed the Emperor.”

“With a single hand, the Empire could crush the demons. If the Emperor wished—do you think a nation that strong could be wiped out by demons overnight?”

“Er...” Vinny had no idea how to answer.

Come on—he barely understood the real history books. Dump this many explosive twists on him at once—how was he supposed to read them? Standing up, apparently.

“I’d say that’s impossible,” he managed.

“Of course. And yet the Old Empire fell. Do you know why?”

“No.” Vinny pressed his lips together. “But I think strong empires rarely fall to external blows. They die from within.”

“Correct. Very much so,” Isatia nodded. “By then, Tyrelis wasn’t satisfied with this finite continent.”

“Their research into Saint’s Grace and divine authority was too advanced. In their view, conquering the continent and annihilating the demons was a mere flick of the wrist—not worth rushing. In their eyes, the demons weren’t even a dish.”

“Their breakaway lead in Saint’s Grace, magic, and divine authority made them supreme—rulers of the continent. Their downfall came from the same source.”

“Huh? How so?” Vinny’s curiosity was hooked.

“The imperial house—the Carillian family—touched what they absolutely should never have touched,” Isatia said.

“Absolutely never?”

“Humans should be human. They wanted to make gods. Since when does anything come without a price?”

“The resplendent capital, the bustling cities, the unstoppable armies—wiped out in a single night. That wasn’t something demons could do. The Old Empire brought it on itself.”

“The shockwave from that thing’s loss of control swallowed almost a third of the Empire, turning it to ruins. The human population plummeted in an instant. Only then did the demons have a chance to pour in.”

“In truth, the imperial capital’s destruction and the army’s annihilation had nothing to do with demons. But someone had to take the blame afterward, so it was laid on the demons.”

“That thing?” Vinny tilted his head, utterly lost. “What exactly is ‘that thing’?”

Isatia didn’t answer directly. “Carillian Academy, even in the Old Empire, was the Emperor’s direct institution. Which means it stores something identical to what destroyed the Old Empire.”

“?? You mean—?”

“After the Empire fell, the Academy understood how terrifying that thing’s destructive power was. Until it could be fully controlled, they decided—using Old Empire technology—to keep it sealed.”

Ah. His scalp prickled. Was he...growing a brain?

Isatia’s words sparked something in Vinny’s mind.

He suddenly remembered the scene during the invasion of the alchemical Demon Pillar Erunios—why did the Demon Pillar have to destroy the Order Spire?

And from the zealots’ mouths, the target they spoke of had seemed to be the Order Spire in Carillian Academy.

Could all this be tied to the Order Spire?

“You don’t mean the Order Spire at Carillian Academy, do you?” Vinny asked, face twisted.

Isatia didn’t answer. She closed her book and rose to her feet.

“Pleasure doing business, Vinny.” With that, she brushed past him and left the Abandoned Park.