The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

This was one of the monster’s largest limbs—just one step away from the main body.

In other words, instead of being thrown far from Àilùkǎ, he had ended up even closer.

“...But why?”

For safety’s sake, wouldn’t it make more sense for the man to have hurled him as far away as possible?

Muen didn’t even have time to think.

His field of vision abruptly dimmed.

The man was in front of him again, gaze calmly fixed on Muen—yet the oppressive pressure bearing down was like a mountain collapsing.

Muen’s breath caught. He didn’t even have time to consider anything else before he twisted his body up and launched himself away, aura flaring.

He had to get distance.

Shadow Step!

Boom!

Just as Muen began the initiating stance for Shadow Step, the man suddenly stomped once.

In an instant, the entire monster limb beneath them shuddered violently—like an earthquake of magnitude eight had hit.

Shadow Step, after all, was a special movement technique that couldn’t be executed off solid footing. Muen’s center of gravity instantly destabilized, and the move was interrupted before it could even begin.

And this time, the man hadn’t even used a martial technique.

Muen felt like a child in front of him—helpless, immature. No matter how impressive the technique might’ve looked, to this man, it was nothing more than a toddler flailing a stick.

Full of holes. Pathetically crude.

Even taking it seriously would’ve been an {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} insult to the man.

“Goddamn it!”

He didn’t even know how many times today he’d cursed. But being toyed with like this—it brought out the stubborn, savage fire inside him.

So he lunged again, throwing caution to the wind, twin blades flashing toward the man.

If the man still retained even a shred of human emotion, he might’ve sighed.

Sighed—for the choice Muen had made in this moment.

Because, letting emotion drive you mid-battle—

Was fatal.

The man reached out again, directly toward the two arcs of blade-light coming at him.

The blades swept in like twin moons, perfect and seamless—there was seemingly no space between them, not even for water to seep through.

And yet the man’s hand slipped cleanly between them, touching Muen’s chest with a light tap.

The burst of internal force from his palm exploded.

Muen was sent flying again.

“—Cough, cough!”

His stomach churned violently, and a mouthful of sour fluid came up.

Before he could even spit another curse, the man had stepped forward again, closing the distance.

Another palm.

And again, Muen was thrown through the air.

Then, as if he’d developed a taste for it, the man started repeating the motion—chasing after Muen, not even giving him a moment to stabilize.

Palm.

Flight.

Vomit.

Palm.

Flight.

Vomit.

Rinse and repeat.

“Young Master!”

Anne watched her Young Master being tossed around like a broken sandbag, and panic surged in her chest. Her metallic constructs attacked harder, faster—utterly reckless.

“Haha—Master, why are you so upset? Could it be that Mister Muen is the one you actually love?”

Àilùkǎ let out a gleeful laugh. Even as countless limbs were shredded by steel, her joy didn’t diminish one bit.

“I was planning to let Mister Muen experience my love too, but now... maybe it’s better if I just let A’de kill him, don’t you think?

Hey, Master—how about you surrender? If you do, maybe I’ll think about letting you go~”

“In your dreams!”

Anne grit her teeth and fired back. At the same time, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

The training of a perfect maid always helped her regain control of her emotions.

And in times like this, a calm mind could notice details others would miss.

Her thoughts raced—how to help the Young Master escape?

And then she spotted it.

—Why is it that after getting his ass beat for so long, all he’s done is puke last night’s dinner... but hasn’t actually been injured?

...

“Cough, cough... I see now. I get it.”

Muen leaned against the giant body of the monster, finally emptying out the last dregs of his stomach. He looked at the man before him with an exhausted smile.

“If you were trying to fool Àilùkǎ... couldn’t you have picked a method that didn’t make me feel like my entire stomach was about to come up? Seriously, that was brutal.”

The man remained silent.

He simply stared at Muen in silence.

Eyes dull and lifeless—like a puppet’s.

But then again...

Who says puppets don’t have hearts?

“Save her.”

It was the first time the man had spoken to Muen directly.

His voice was hoarse, like it had clawed its way back from hell.

“Alright.”

Muen didn’t look surprised. He nodded sincerely.

“I’ll free her.”

He didn’t dwell on the difference between “freeing” and “saving.” Maybe the man already knew—when it came to Àilùkǎ now, the two were the same.

The man reached out again and grabbed Muen’s shoulder.

This time, Muen didn’t resist.

He let the vice-like grip crush into him—painfully so—and then, like a chick being tossed by the scruff, he was flung through the air.

By now, Muen was already fairly close to Àilùkǎ.

But the man used all his strength anyway.

So the flight... was fast.

“—Huh?!”

Àilùkǎ finally reacted.

And the joy on her face instantly vanished.

She had been betrayed.

Betrayed by the one she loved the most.

“Why? Why?!”

Her scream was piercing, hysterical:

“A’de, are you betraying me?!

Why?! You already accepted my embrace, shared in my love—why doesn’t the Love God’s power work on you?

WHY?!”

Rage born from betrayal surged through her.

The monster’s entire body trembled.

Hundreds of faces screamed in agony, countless twisted declarations of love erupted—like banshee wails in the dead of night, piercing straight into the brain.

The grotesque flesh began to writhe more violently than ever before. Countless deformed limbs, unable to wait for skin to part naturally, simply burst forth—splattering blood everywhere.

These limbs, dripping with stinking blood, ignored the chance to attack Anne head-on and instead surged toward the traitor... and Muen.

The man didn’t resist.

He let himself be grabbed, coiled, bound—then swallowed by the deformities.

He was moments away from being absorbed into Àilùkǎ’s flesh once more. And this time, he wouldn’t receive any special treatment.

He’d become just another one of the hundreds of faces.

His eyes were still lifeless—but deep, deep down, something flickered.

Just like before.

Why betray you?

Isn’t it obvious?

Because I love you, Àilùkǎ.

I’m sorry I let you be deceived.

Sorry I couldn’t stop it.

But at the very end—let this useless man do something worthwhile.

As he was on the verge of being consumed completely...

He lifted his last remaining hand.

And his five fingers curled inward—like the claws of a beast.

In that instant, thunder cracked.

An invisible shockwave burst out from his palm.

But the target wasn’t the limbs wrapping around him.

It was the ones chasing after Muen.

...

This was—

My final love.

...

Àilùkǎ’s howls came to a sudden halt.

Because someone had made it through the chaos.

Someone now stood before her.

“Yo, Àilùkǎ.”

Muen stood atop the squirming flesh, staring down at that still-beautiful face.

As if greeting an old friend, he said lightly:

“Good afternoon. Eaten yet?”

“That roast lamb you treated me to last time—was pretty damn good.”