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

“I keep feeling, Teacher Meladomir, that you’re making innuendos again?”

Faced with the old loli’s outrageous remark, Muen couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of his mouth, but then he sank deep into Teacher Meladomir’s conception.

Continuously stack power, then release it in an instant.

If ten times isn’t enough, then a hundred, a thousand. Even by imagination alone, Muen could tell how terrifying the power would be once the stacks were many enough.

And if, just as Teacher Meladomir said, this wasn’t a move, but a technique...

“That’s right. Since it’s a technique, it’s not limited to Thunderclap alone.”

Seeing through Muen’s doubt, Teacher Meladomir raised a finger and wagged it, wearing a loli’s smug face:

“That’s why I said it’s the most suitable for you. It’s called a technique precisely because it can be applied atop any move you already have.

Whether your footwork or your blade work—ten stacks, a hundred stacks, a thousand stacks—you can stack without limit, so long as you can do it.”

“Stack without limit...”

Muen’s breathing grew heavy. Just hearing her explanation, he knew how frightening such stacking would be.

But...

“Can I really pull off this technique as I am right now?”

Muen swung his fist.

The release of power is an instant.

How to stack in an instant, then ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) let it all go at once—in his eyes, that was simply inconceivable.

“Unless... I can only do it by relying on the Eternal Clock’s time-slowing? Huh—wait...”

Muen suddenly widened his eyes at Teacher Meladomir:

“Then you did cheat just now!”

“You think I needed the Eternal Clock to deal with a little weakling like you?”

Teacher Meladomir rolled an adorably exasperated eye:

“I did it just now with pure body and technique.”

“Pure body technique...”

“Exactly. Not only can this technique be done, it can be done without borrowing the Eternal Clock at all.”

She lightly hooked her finger, and the air rang with a series of continuous quakes.

“In fact, some rare martial skills also use this sort of technique. But because of its limits, the effort you pay and the return you get are grossly disproportionate, so ordinary people treat it as chicken ribs.

You’re different. With the Eternal Clock, the result this technique produces can be multiplied.

Because the key to this technique is being fast enough—and the Eternal Clock, in a sense, makes you faster on top of fast!”

“Faster on top of fast...”

Muen swallowed.

His mouth went dry.

His mood surged.

With Teacher Meladomir’s explanation, he immediately understood to what terrifying degree this technique would reach under the Eternal Clock’s blessing.

If, in normal state, he could only reach the most basic double stack...

Tenfold time-slowing would be twenty stacks.

His current limit of sixtyfold time-slowing... would be one hundred and twenty stacks.

One hundred and twentyfold power stacked in an instant! How terrifying would that be!

“Well? Want to learn it?”

Teacher Meladomir tilted her little head, smiling with narrowed eyes.

“I do!”

Muen clenched both fists and said solemnly:

“Please teach me, Teacher Meladomir!”

“Hehe. Since my one and only dumb disciple is begging me so sweetly, I guess I’ve got no choice. Can you stand up?”

“Of course!”

Muen flipped to his feet, Elizabeth gripped in his hand.

Teacher Meladomir was already standing there quietly, the tiny toothpick once more pinched between her fingers.

“Nothing progresses faster than real combat.”

Smiling, with the vindictive mischief in her eyes undisguised, Teacher Meladomir crooked her finger:

“I’m not the kind to hold grudges. This time, I’ll even let you make the first move.”

“...”

Thinking of the earlier ravaging, Muen bared his teeth at the ache, but quickly gathered his mind, holding his breath and focusing.

In his sight there was only Teacher Meladomir... and the toothpick in her hand.

“Then... here I come!”

Muen drew a deep breath. Power surged through his whole body like the tide, with not a shred held back.

He hunched, then blasted out like a shell from the barrel, turning into a blur as he lunged for Teacher Meladomir.

...

What followed, for Muen, was nothing short of a hellish stretch of time.

She called it demonstration teaching, but Teacher Meladomir held back not a whit. Every strike pushed Muen to his limit; every time, he could hear the wail from the deepest part of his body.

As if she only needed one more grain of force to make him collapse completely.

But she kept rubbing him right along the edge of collapse—never crossing it—leaving Muen truly in a state of ecstasy and agony.

Still, one has to admit: this is where a great teacher shows her worth.

In the midst of unbearable pain, Muen could feel himself improving at a breakneck pace.

It was progress surpassing what he’d gained from soaking in the Black Book for a dozen days and nights and dying a hundred times over.

Any mistaken motion, any misapplied force, even a mere skew in a single blade swing, would be sternly pointed out—then branded into him with the pain of his own body.

In Teacher Meladomir’s hands, he seemed to become the most unadorned raw jade, being carved bit by bit into something he couldn’t afford, destined to burst with brilliant light.

...

A few hours later, Muen was finally wrung dry.

When even the Withering King’s flame inside him couldn’t squeeze out a drop of strength, he went completely limp on the ground—then was dragged like a dead dog by Teacher Meladomir back into the hot spring pool from before.

The water, cooled now, still shimmered faintly with gold. Muen’s body, like a long-starved beast, devoured the pool’s vast medicinal power in crazed, greedy gulps, filling the emptiness within.

“How is it?”

By the pool, having gotten her fill of revenge, Teacher Meladomir asked, radiant:

“Do you feel evolved?”

“Not evolved. I feel like I’m about to dissolve.”

Reclining in the pool, Muen looked at his trembling hands and gave a wry smile.

He finally understood why Teacher Meladomir said that for other warriors this technique is extremely chicken-rib—so much effort and hardship paid, yet the results are underwhelming. With that much spare time, you might as well learn how to toss bricks with brute strength.

Besides...

“In the end, it still comes down to bodily resilience, right?”

Power stacked severalfold in an instant brings a severalfold burden to the body in an instant.

Add the burden caused by time-slowing itself—if your body isn’t tough enough, your attack might not even land before you explode on the spot yourself.

So...

“Not enough!”

Muen shot upright and thundered:

“Again. I want more—much more!”

“Give it a rest, kid.”

Teacher Meladomir didn’t move. She just rolled her eyes. “With that little frame of yours right now, if we go again, you won’t be getting out of bed for half a month.”

“Uh...”

Muen slid his butt back into the pool. “Fine, then...”

“But...”

Seeing his disappointed face, Teacher Meladomir suddenly flashed a brilliant smile:

“If you like being abused that much, I can satisfy you.”

“Eh?”

Muen blinked.

Before he could react,

Teacher Meladomir snapped her fingers with delight.

The scene around Muen shifted in an instant.

He was in midair.

And below his butt... lay the mirror-smooth Well of Mercury.

“Fuck!”

Muen threw his head back and howled in furious despair:

“You old loli, mark my words—when I get the chance I’ll glug-glug—”

The endless mercury surged up, gradually submerging that upright middle finger.

...

“Aiya, to satisfy my disciple like this—I really am a good teacher.”

Listening to the howls from beneath her feet, Teacher Meladomir stood and brushed off her hands with satisfaction.

Then her expression turned solemn in an instant.

“Techniques and moves are small problems. With that kid’s disregard for his own life, he’ll probably master them soon.

The real big problem is...”

Hands clasped behind her back, Teacher Meladomir paced back and forth through the sea of flowers, brows faintly knit as she muttered:

“Turn death into life, turn death into life... Even a partial ‘turning death into life’ is this difficult?”

Suddenly, her brows arched, and she looked to the side.

Space twisted, and Professor Prang’s voice came through:

“Mentor Meladomir, there’s a letter for you.”

“A letter? From whom?”

“It’s...”

Professor Prang paused. “His Holiness, the Pope of the Life Church.”