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

The corpse tide surged.

These were corpses originally thrown into the blood pool as sacrifices to the Evil God. After being drained of essence and blood, they still failed to obtain the promised rest. Their final value was squeezed out as well, and under the will of the Silent Moon, the withered husks became these living corpses wandering on the edge of life and death, launching a fearless charge at Muen.

So weak.

That was Muen’s first thought upon contact with the living corpses. Just like zombies from television dramas in his past life, they moved slowly, their strength feeble, their attacks disorganized.

The only troublesome thing about them was their terrifying numbers... and their wails.

“Save me...”

“Save me...”

“Please... save me...”

Under the Evil God’s twisted amusement, they retained a faint shred of awareness. In endless torment, their faces twisted grotesquely, blood tears streaming as they instinctively sought salvation from the only living person here.

“I’ll... grant you true release.”

Muen sighed with pity—then severed the head of the living corpse blocking his path.

Such corpses—so weak that even an ordinary human might escape from them—were naturally incapable of stopping Muen’s steps. He plunged actively into the thickest part of the tide. Blade light flashed, cold gleams glittered, and countless heads flew one after another.

Bathed in the holy light Elizabeth released, even the power of the Evil God could not restore a living corpse once its head had been cut away. Thus they moved toward true end.

Step by step, Muen advanced closer to the altar.

No matter how many, the corpses were not infinite.

Beneath Muen’s ever-sharpening blade work, they fell like wheat under the scythe.

But then—suddenly—Muen felt a trace of pressure.

The corpse before him seemed to suddenly grow several times stronger. When it rushed forward, even Muen’s blade trembled slightly.

Startled, he stared at its body.

Beneath skin wrinkled like tree bark, several human faces protruded, frozen in agony, their mouths open in silent screams.

A chill shot through Muen. He looked around.

Only then did he notice: among the corpses he had decapitated, faint lights suddenly flared, then were forcibly stuffed by an unseen power into those that could still stand.

Those were...

Souls.

Souls whose essence had been mostly stripped away by the Evil God—mere dregs.

The corpses purified by holy light could no longer be used, but those remnant souls were still reusable to the Evil God.

Thus, the excess souls were crammed into the remaining bodies, turning them into nauseating monsters with dozens of souls wailing inside a single form.

...Truly thrifty and environmentally friendly.

Muen let out a bitter laugh and asked the moon:

“Do you want me to teach you how to say ‘how dare you?’”

The moon, of course, did not respond.

Muen pressed his fury at the Silent Moon into his blades. His Shadow Step and Thunderclap—unconsciously trained to the highest level through constant battle—alternated seamlessly.

At the same time, the alchemic core on his back grew burning hot.

Time dilation—tenfold!

The world slowed. Without hesitation, Muen cut down the increasingly monstrous corpses one by one.

The numbers dwindled, but his pressure grew heavier.

As soul remnants accumulated, the remaining corpses could hardly be called corpses anymore. Their warped flesh obscured their original forms. Torment denied salvation had twisted into searing hatred!

They roared and pounced. Distorted limbs smashed down, easily denting the bluestone ground.

Each monster’s level was forcibly pushed up to Third Rank. Even a full-strength banshee would perish under their assault.

Let alone Muen—already weary from continuous combat, his will wavered at the thought of fleeing these hellish monsters.

But.

Through the gaps of their intertwined bodies, his eyes found the girl beneath the moonlight, brows slightly furrowed.

Senior, are you having a nightmare?

Boom—

A long sound echoed in Muen’s ears.

Like a violently /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ beating heart... or a tolling bell!

Tenfold.

Twentyfold.

Thirtyfold.

The alchemic core, carved by Grand Archmage Meladomir herself, surged at maximum output, furiously squeezing every drop of Muen’s mana.

Until—

...Sixtyfold!

As if forgetting Teacher Mela’s warnings, Muen pushed time dilation to the very edge of what he could bear.

Then.

In the slowed world, he spurred his body onward.

Faster. Faster!

In a blink—

The monsters froze.

Confusion flickered in their fractured minds.

A cut appeared.

A second.

A third.

...Countless.

As though hundreds, thousands of slashes landed at once. Blinding blade light merged into brilliance, flooding them with holy radiance. The grotesque monsters had no time to howl before meeting their end.

Muen now stood behind them, stepping onto the altar’s edge at last.

Blood dripped from the air.

Not theirs—his.

Just as Teacher Mela had warned, forcing full-speed movement under extreme dilation shattered his body’s limits.

But this breakthrough was not beneficial.

When he stopped, blood poured from his pores and cracked flesh, falling like a red rain.

This time, however, Muen did not collapse.

He stood at the altar’s edge, swayed once, and firelight kindled in his eyes, knitting his injuries from within.

Then, forward—toward the girl—he stepped firmly.

Buzz—

An unseen pressure crashed down, stabbing cold into him as though he stood in the deepest abyss.

From on high, the moon finally lowered its indifferent gaze!

That dreadful sight made one feel utterly small, stirring the urge to kneel.

Heh... can’t hold back anymore, can you?

Muen’s lips twisted faintly.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward again.

Crack.

He heard his bones snap.

The vast pressure drowned him like a tide, forcing him low, barely able to stand.

At his feet, his moonlit shadow writhed alive, wrapping upward like demonic tendrils intent on devouring him whole.

Muen clenched his teeth.

Hssst—

Scarlet flames surged, burning the shadows to ash.

But—that was all.

Normally unstoppable, the crimson flame was bound by unseen power. Around him it flickered like a candle in the wind, fragile, ready to vanish.

This was why Muen hadn’t used it earlier for clearing fodder. Within the moonlight’s range, his flame was naturally suppressed, barely able to seep from his body.

Even so, he pressed forward.

Another step.

Cracks spidered underfoot. Bones snapped and mended with fiery bursts.

Agony drenched him in sweat, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to yield.

A faint laugh brushed his ear.

—So what if you killed those lowly ants? You are still an insect.

He felt the scorn and mockery in that gaze. Even with only a few meters between him and his senior, the Silent Moon did not kill him outright, but ground him down slowly, savoring his suffering.

Perhaps, in twisted amusement, it would even spare him, to watch Anna become its vessel step by step.

This was the gulf between man and god.

You could only be a plaything for its boredom.

Despairing.

But with Senior right in front of me, how could I ever give up?

Muen staggered on, reckless against the divine wall.

...

【Sigh...】

At that instant, he heard a familiar sigh.

The Black Book.

Light flared in Muen’s dim eyes. Coughing blood, he sank into his consciousness.

“You really couldn’t stay still.”

【I can’t help you.】

Words appeared on its pages.

Muen froze. Then why appear—

【But】

The page turned.

【Insult It】

“...Ha? Insult It?”

Muen blinked. He knew at once “It” meant the Silent Moon.

But to insult an Evil God now—wasn’t that rushing his own death?

Or making it faster?

“I already cursed it just now. Didn’t seem to work.” He recalled his earlier trash talk.

【Not only insult】

【Enrage It】

“...Enrage?”

Muen’s eyes sharpened.

He didn’t know the Book’s true purpose, but—

“That’s something I’m good at.”

...

Muen halted.

Under suffocating pressure, he sprawled comfortably on the ground, then rolled over.

He stared directly at the enormous blue moon filling his vision.

Moonlight drifted like gauze. Beautiful, truly.

For the first time, Muen studied this dreaded Evil God closely.

From outside, it was just a moon. Bigger, bluer.

But he knew this wasn’t its true body. Likely even this moon was only its projection.

Yet just a projection had driven him to despair.

“Funny. No matter how many turns my fate takes, I always end up face to face with you damned Evil Gods.”

Muen chuckled.

“So—won’t you just die once, you bastard?”

“Don’t dare? Coward?”

“Heh. That other one’s followers are gathering strength in silence, but you, terrified of god-war, scatter projections everywhere, even abandoning your divine body and seat to descend and hide. Everyone says the Love God is the shame of Evil Gods, but in my eyes, you’re worse.”

“So timid—why not crawl back to Mommy’s arms and drink milk?”

“......”

The moonlight stayed cold, unmoving.

Only its pressure increased, twisting Muen’s features.

“...Not enough, huh?”

He understood. To It, his words were mere ant-chatter.

Time for the big move.

“【Prayer】”

The world hushed, leaving only Muen’s solemn voice.

“【With my secret, I beseech the great Silent Moon, grant me a moment of listening.】”

The cold gaze fixed on him solidified—It was intrigued. Listening.

Seeing this, Muen’s lips curved madly.

He was gambling his life.

No—he had been from the start.

So what was there to fear?

“My secret is...”

He stared into the moon, speaking each word clearly:

“The reason the Withering King launched a reckless assault against the Silent Moon... the culprit who revealed Its weakness to the Withering King...

—was me.”

...

In an instant.

The blue moon quaked!

Pain stabbed Muen’s eyes.

Dark tides flooded across its surface.

And within that tide, countless crimson eyes snapped open, glaring poisonously down.

As an Evil God, the Silent Moon could naturally discern truth from falsehood.

So—

How dare you?!

You insect, how dare you?!!

Death alarms shrieked in Muen’s skull like a hornet nest.

Space twisted. Unlike the playful pressure earlier, now a true annihilating strike—born of divine fury—descended!

Rustle...

Pages turned. A spectral light burst forth, colliding with the strike.

No shockwave—just silence, space cracking like bubbles as the powers erased one another.

The Black Book shuddered, dimmed, and sank back into Muen’s soul.

“Wait, that’s it?” Muen’s mouth twitched.

“You blocked one blow and tapped out? But for the Silent Moon...”

This was clearly just a casual strike.

He couldn’t finish complaining. The moon’s dreadful force gathered anew, about to fall.

Finished.

Muen’s face went pale. Against an enraged Evil God, no cheat could save him.

Death was certain—

...

Ding—

In the moonlit silence, a clear chime rang.

So sharp.

His eyes widened, snapping to its source.

Senior.

No—her chest.

A teardrop-shaped gem rose slowly, blazing with light.

“That’s...”

The Tear of True Love.

Now the gem quivered. Phantoms emerged, flashing before Muen’s eyes.

Figures in ancient dress, not of this era, gazed upward amid firelight.

They looked to a girl writhing in agony on a stake.

Her serpent tail twisted—monstrous.

The boy closest shed tears.

He turned, spoke to Muen in a tongue ancient and harsh, unintelligible.

Shaking his head helplessly, he pointed at Anna.

Muen stumbled, shoved forward by unseen hands, crossing the final meters to her side.

The boy smiled.

Then raised his head.

Countless phantoms did the same.

All glared at the moon with searing hatred.

“Eiso...”

Two words surfaced in Muen’s mind.

The nation Teacher Mela mentioned, destroyed by the Silent Moon for discovering a cure for serpentification.

“I see...”

The gem, the Tear of True Love, carried power against serpentification. Of course it was tied to that nation.

Two centuries ago, that land left more than records of treatment.

They left behind a seed of vengeance.

Now, with the Silent Moon wholly focused on Muen, pausing its erosion of Anna—

That seed sprouted.

A two-hundred-year-old backstab!

The phantoms surged, streaming into the blue moon!

The Silent Moon gave a voiceless shriek, crimson eyes contorting in cold malice.

Mere remnants—what could they do?

Yet to Its shock, the lights did not strike.

Instead—they merged into a barrier.

A barrier that blocked all of Its power.

It might last only an instant.

But one instant was enough.

“I told you—when a bug bites, it hurts!”

Muen laughed wildly, flames and light bursting free.

The crimson fire, long suppressed, now erupted unchained. In the moonless darkness, it shone like a beacon.

A lighthouse.

A signal in the void.

“So—it’s your cue.”

“Withering King!!!”