How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

While marveling at the miracle of magic—at the wisdom and inventiveness of the Marsmo—Vinny couldn’t help being equally awed by Isatia’s IQ and insight. Among the Fated Heroines, she was absolutely top-tier: with a single glance she could grasp what those scattered magic runes meant, and even piece together the correct sequence. At this level she could genuinely go toe-to-toe with Aesphyra.

Good thing the Fated Heroine who came into this deep-buried secret realm with him was Isatia. Imagine if the one who’d entered with him had been swapped for a certain dopey-cute Moon Elf little princess—wouldn’t the two of them have gone kaboom??

Never mind giving science lessons and cracking puzzles all the way—Vinny figured the mantle of “brains of the operation” would’ve landed squarely on him. Even if he discovered something, it would just be him muttering to himself while the white-haired little elf stared blankly, totally unable to follow his thought-speed—only to realize his speechlessness, then nod like crazy to pretend he understood while actually understanding nothing.

He could picture that scene vividly; Vinny could already feel how exasperating it would be.

Mm. If not for offending Jiu Lixue so badly that she was dead set on catching him and plucking every feather off him, she would’ve been pretty reliable too.

But... is this sequence really correct??

Vinny eyed the runes he’d lined up, doubtful. In the next instant, that string of magic characters sank into the mural.

Then, under the two of their gazes, the gray star released a profound luster; within that tiny speck of starlight hid a colossal astral web—a giant celestial chart big enough to include both of them within it.

Did it work??

Vinny stared, utterly astonished, at what was happening before his eyes.

The sequence Isatia gave him... was actually correct??

“How did you guess the right magic password?” Vinny, shaken to his core, couldn’t help asking.

“Observation.” Isatia’s answer was just as terse, leaving Vinny a little lost.

“These characters show up a lot on many Marsmo temple murals and Astrolith Stelae. Cross-referencing the context and the Marsmo script I do understand, it’s not hard to infer their meanings.”

“As for how to combine them...” Isatia paused. “I’ve faintly guessed what this place is.”

So you just... stitched it together like that??

Fine. The world of prodigies was not his to comprehend.

Vinny hesitated a moment. The forming of the starry map hadn’t made any noise, so no one should have noticed. He glanced at the flowing, water-like stars hovering in front of them, thought briefly, then reached out and touched them.

In an instant, the dim star swallowed them both. When they opened their eyes again, they found themselves in a hall of gold and jade splendor. On both sides stood abstract, hyper-stylized golden-armored guard sculptures in peak Marsmo style, while a red carpet trimmed with gold-filigree embroidery ran straight up the center to a gemstone throne forged of pure gold.

“Where is this?” Vinny looked around at the golden candle-way drenched in Marsmo aesthetics, surprised.

Isatia was studying the surroundings too. She looked toward the piles of documents set to either side of the throne and spoke. “Classmate Vinny, look at the files beside the throne.”

“Oh, got it.” Vinny felt like the Isatia piggybacking on him had practically become an externalized brain. He climbed the steps, came to the throne, and picked up the sheaves of parchment on either side—but he couldn’t read Marsmo script at all. The characters looked like ants crawling up a tree, deeply strange; just looking at them gave a sensation like one’s heart being gnawed by a thousand ants.

He couldn’t read a word—blind with eyes open. Looking at this stuff would be pointless unless he showed it to Isatia. So he set Isatia down on the throne and held each parchment up for her, one after another.

Isatia’s reading speed was breathtaking. With these large parchment folios, she needed only a few glances—ten lines at a glance—and then told Vinny to move on to the next.

Seeing this, Vinny sped up too.

There were a lot of stacked parchments. Vinny had no idea what they recorded, but the more they went through, the more grave Isatia’s expression became.

Vinny grew even more curious about what those parchments actually said.

“Come to think of it, it should be three days since we entered the deep-buried secret realm, right?” Vinny suddenly asked.

“No one expected the Marsmo deep-buried realm to be constructed out of Divine Authority fragments. In that case, time as a concept no longer matters,” Isatia answered.

“Isatia, did we go the wrong way? We should’ve checked behind the throne earlier. That would’ve let you learn much more about Marsmo civilization in a short time.”

“No, Classmate Vinny—on the contrary, we didn’t come to the wrong place.” Isatia gave him a look. “The route you chose was correct. We went to the right place.”

“Most of these parchments are internal memorials and reports within the Marsmo administrative system. From them, we can infer, indirectly, what the structure of Marsmo governance actually was. Besides that...” Isatia paused.

“Besides that?” Vinny asked, puzzled.

“There’s also material on the deities of [Continuance] and [Eternity], and—”

“And what?” Vinny suddenly felt something off in Isatia’s tone.

“On the inside story of the Marsmo faith civil war—and how the Divine Authority was torn apart,” Isatia said slowly.

“Inside story?” Given how hidden this place was—without the high-grade Revealing Elixir from Aesphyra and a high technological edge in alchemy leveraging a generational gap—they truly wouldn’t have gotten in.

If even they struggled, let alone people of that era. Even if someone discovered this secret, they absolutely couldn’t open this door or enter here—and anyone who found it would very likely be executed.

“What inside story?” Isatia was about to finish the parchments.

Yet before Isatia could answer, a huge, razor-edged projectile of kinetic stone energy came screaming at the two of them.

“Vinny, behind you.” Isatia reacted first, but she could hardly move; seated on the throne, she could only warn aloud—and by the time she spoke, it was already late.

But although Vinny reacted a beat after her voice, long-tempered battle experience and a killing-intent sense honed in live combat had already warned him of danger even before Isatia spoke. He pulled Isatia into his arms and rolled aside.

“BOOM! BOOM!!” The massive stone slammed into where they’d just been, knocking the entire throne crooked.

Heart pounding, Vinny glanced at the throne behind, then at the place they’d come from—at the extra, hulking figure now there.

“Oh? Inside story? What inside story? Let’s hear it. I’d like to know too.” A figure well over two meters tall strode grandly into the entryway. From within the golden lion mask gleamed a gaze that looked down on them like ants, with a hint of mockery.

“Damn. We’ve been spotted?” Vinny’s eyes hardened at once.

He stood, helped Isatia up, settled her to the side, then looked down the steps at the hulking man in the golden lion mask.

The man wore resplendent, luxurious golden armor, with dark, corded forearms and thighs exposed—veins rippling over terrifying, explosive musculature.

Vinny knew this man. When they’d entered the Marsmo royal palace, the one seated on the throne—that had been this very man.

Back then Vinny had even hallucinated that the figure was meeting his eyes, seeing him. He’d assumed it was a trick of the mind.

As expected. Even in antiquity, the sovereign of a powerful civilization was not someone easily handled.

“You’re the King of Marsmo?” Vinny asked.

The hulking lion-masked man fell silent, then let out a string of heavy laughs. Vinny could almost picture the contemptuous, arrogant face beneath that mask.

“Unexpected, that in this sacred ground of [Eternity] and [Continuance], two variables would appear—things that do not belong here, and are not of my kind.”

“Aliens—where did you come from? How did you enter this place? Speak truthfully.” The lion-masked man raised his head and interrogated them in the tone of a superior. The eyes behind the mask swept over them with overwhelming pressure.

“Big guy, cut the spooky act. Where we came from is none of your business—and even if I told you, you wouldn’t get it.” Vinny’s brows knit.

“Oh? You break into another man’s house and speak like that? How ill-mannered. Seems I’ll have to educate you about what ‘upbringing’ means.” The lion-masked man tilted his chin.

“Upbringing? From you? That’s cute. Talking to yours truly like that—did you bulk-buy your brains out of rotten wood?” Vinny fired back a mental jab—and at the same time noticed something off.

Hm??

Something didn’t add up.

Right—this should be an alternate dimension created by Divine Authority. People inside it shouldn’t know they’re in a separate dimension, nor that they’re already dead. They should believe they’re still alive, that the era is still that of Marsmo slavery.

So why, from the way this guy was talking, did he sound like an observer who knew everything—unlike those living dead kept in the dark?

“Vinny, he is the ancient King of Marsmo—Kantesius Florin—revived in the Marsmo faith civil war when the Divine Authority was torn,” Isatia said just then.

“After his revival, he swiftly re-ruled this so-called eternal-continuing Marsmo, and he reawakened his army and the slaves buried to accompany him,” Isatia explained.

“Oh? Looks like you know it all.” Kantesius watched Isatia with interest. “Pale-skinned, black-haired foreign woman—you can actually read Marsmo script. I’m very interested in you.”

“So the civil war over Marsmo faith—the one caused by doctrinal schism—you corpse who crawled out of your grave are the biggest winner, huh?” Vinny looked at Kantesius. “So what are you getting at? Dead is dead. Knowing full well you’re living in a fake world and you’re still having a grand old time?”

“Do you know why I began constructing a vast burial complex while alive, and practiced live interments—bringing my entire army and all my slaves underground with me?” Kantesius spread his arms. “It was for this place.”

“In life I created achievements so magnificent—but even one as strong as I, as great as I, could not escape death. How unfair is that??”

“Can you comprehend it? That even I, above ten thousand, would ultimately still die—unable to escape death. Do you understand that °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° unwillingness?”

“As the King of Marsmo, the supreme King of Kings, I ruled the world in life—and I shall rule the world in death!”

“The moment my eyes closed, I don’t know how long I slept. Fortune favored the merits of my ages; it gave me the chance to open my eyes again, and granted me what I had prayed for in life—a world of eternal continuance.”

“Here, I can go on being the King of Marsmo, the King of Kings. And those slaves—just as in life—they naturally continue under my command, loyal to their king.”

“Not even allowed to rest in peace—dragging people back up just to keep tormenting them. Your moral fiber is impressively rotten.” Vinny sniped.

“And ‘achievements’? You mean those temples and wonders soaked in slave blood?”

“Slaves are slaves. A king is a king. All things are as they should be.” Kantesius looked at the two of them.

“Vinny, hand me the crown-gem clasped in the eagle’s talons—the one in my pendant,” Isatia whispered.

“Huh? Okay.” Vinny didn’t know why Isatia suddenly asked for that or what the gem was for, but he obeyed. When she opened the pendant, he placed the eagle-talon crown-gem in her hand.

“Foreign woman, this king is very interested in you.” Kantesius watched Isatia’s movements as well, but he didn’t interfere. In his view, whatever these two did couldn’t change the fate about to befall them.

“From your garb and looks, I don’t know which alien tribe you belong to. But the ending is the same. It’s been a long time since aliens like you came here. Rather than ‘variables,’ let’s call you... entertainment.”

“Foreign woman, I’ve decided to keep you—to bring this king more amusement. As for your attendant...” Kantesius looked to Vinny with a playful smile. “It has been a long time since I personally performed punishments on aliens.”

“Listen. Don’t think just because you’re built like a meat mountain you’re invincible.” Vinny took the earring from in front of his ear; Frostfang manifested in his hand. He twirled a few flowers with the spear, a sheet of chill flaring forth.

“Want to see who outlives who? Sure. You antiquated mutt—your out-of-date, musty magic can’t hurt yours truly. Time for you to taste the bite of ‘new tech.’”