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

“H-help!”

The girl’s distant cry made Muen’s heart sink.

Could it be...

Those guys—here already?

The unexpected emergen**cy made Muen forget everything else. He flung away the odds and ends in his hands and fired up Shadow Step, flashing toward the direction of the voice.

“Miss Liya, hold on, I’ll be right—”

...

Roughly half a minute later.

Muen stood at the lakeshore, staring at Liya’s scarlet face—and at the ferocious giant beast behind her. Elizabeth was in his grip, and his mind blanked.

“M-Muen...”

Liya’s eyes brimmed with pitiful tears as she struggled. “W-what are you dazing out for—s-save me... hurry and save me...”

“N-no—wait. This scene—let me process for a second.”

Muen pressed his forehead, suddenly feeling like his brain didn’t have enough RAM.

Sort out the situation first. Right. Sort it out.

First, Liya: she was currently half undressed, faintly revealing the undergarments inside with a cute pattern. Even though none of the parts that shouldn’t be seen were actually seen, that teasing glimpse that revealed nothing all the same carried a mystery that, perversely, made one even more excited.

But in this setup, Liya’s slightly improper state of dress wasn’t the key—the key was the enormous, savage monster behind her.

—it was a giant octopus.

Damn! Why is there an octopus in a lake!

There wasn’t a trace of magic coming off it, no wonder he hadn’t sensed it before.

No—this is a fantasy world; you can’t use common sense. Rabbits will fish for people here. A big octopus hiding in a lake is perfectly normal.

Still... in this shape—shouldn’t I just call it a tentacle monster to be more precise?

No, no, no—thinking like that only makes it worse.

Because those tentacl—no, that giant octopus was whipping its tentacles, trying over and over to coil around Liya. If she weren’t currently bracing herself with a Holy Light barrier, you could easily imagine those suckered, slime-slick tentacles wrapping tight to the girl’s skin in a very, very bad way...

And considering Liya’s future identity...

Tentacles × Saintess...

Damn, the apex of non-human sm—...

And what you see in pictures is one thing; running into it in reality is a whole different feeling.

Way too spicy.

Just imagining it made his nose want to bleed...

“Muen Campbell!”

Seeing Muen still not moving, Liya puffed her flushed cheeks and shouted, “S-save me!”

“Uh... Miss Liya.”

Muen spread his hands and blinked innocently. “Didn’t you say you like octopuses? The thing you like is right in front of you—shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Uu... it’s not... the one I like is the small kind... palm-sized... the cute kind...”

Liya’s voice already carried a sob. “Not this terrifying thing—uu, save me, or I’ll ignore you from now on...”

“Okay, okay...”

Seeing that if he kept teasing, the girl really would explode again, Muen packed away the jokes.

“Since it’s a lady’s request... it’s one I simply can’t refuse.”

He clenched the pure-white blade in both hands and leapt.

At that moment, the giant octopus finally seemed to register Muen the uninvited guest. From the bulging eyes on either side of its body, volcanic fury burst forth.

The placid lake heaved into towering waves; long tentacles shot up from the black water below.

Unlike the gentle-ish entangling it had used on Liya, those supple limbs now turned into spear-like lances. As they streaked in, a razor wind shrieked past Muen’s ears!

“Seriously—you only like sweet-smelling pretty girls too, huh.”

Twisting midair into a bizarre angle, Muen slipped past tentacles that were nearly afterimages, his twin blades crossing—an X of blade-light like descending divine judgment!

“This punch of yours—hard one to catch!”

Muen chopped.

Ding—

A deafening clang rang out. On the surface of those seemingly soft tentacles, dense, hard micro-scales covered everything.

But even scales that looked impossibly tough were paper-thin before the pure-white edge. The holy blade-light sheared through the writhing limbs with almost no resistance.

Except—

Fury flared hotter in the octopus’s eyes, and from the severed, spasming stumps, new tentacles—slick with viscous fluid—regrew before Muen’s eyes with almost no delay.

More tentacles crossed in, a heaven-and-earth net with no escape.

“This gets troublesome.”

Muen’s eyes narrowed. In stretched-out time he slipped between the limbs.

“So, for soft-bodied creatures, limb regeneration is basically a built-in skill?”

No matter how hard the shell, Elizabeth made it a non-issue. But if the regeneration was at this level—while it couldn’t erase the power gap between them—he had no idea where this octopus’s limit lay. It would just waste his stamina for nothing.

And right now, Muen didn’t want to waste stamina.

So in this situation... a tactical retreat would be—

“Muen!”

Just then, Liya’s voice came from behind him, along with a Holy Light buff that made his spirit jolt.

“Aberrants count as a branch of magical beasts. So—it should have a core!”

“A core...”

“Probably in the very center—where the brain is. Soft-bodied magical beasts usually have it there!”

Muen’s eyes lit. So even if there was no magic at all, there’d still be something like a core?

In that case—easy.

Muen swung again. As countless limbs wove toward him, in an instant thunder seemed to detonate along the pure-white blade!

Thunderclap—Fivefold!

Five overlapping shockwaves, carrying an irresistible blaze of blade-light, fell straight down.

And under a certain holy power’s blessing, that force swelled even more!

The lake under Muen’s feet split at once—and so did the octopus’s especially massive head. Layers of soft tissue fanned open, then tried to knit back together in a blink. But that fleeting gap was enough for Muen to lock onto a core that gleamed especially bright beneath the starlight.

“Elizabeth!”

Without a shred of hesitation, Muen hurled the short blade.

Like a flash of lightning, the pure-white holy weapon punched through layer after layer of the octopus’s defenses—and with a crisp crack, struck home with surgical precision.

The giant octopus’s flailing froze. Its mass turned to slack mush and began to sink.

“Finally done. The creatures in this forest are really no joke.”

Muen exhaled and beckoned; the pure-white short blade flew obediently back to his hand.

“Ugh... so much slime.”

Vmm— The blade thrummed.

“All right, all right—I’ll give you a proper wash in a bit. Don’t throw a tantrum.”

Soothing Elizabeth, Muen dropped back to shore and looked at Liya, who had made it there a moment earlier. “You okay?”

“Hmph—I-I’m fine!”

Liya’s cheeks were still puffed; she turned her head away. “But someone as strong as Muen would never understand how helpless someone weak like me felt just now.”

Yep, she was mad.

But...

“Weak? Is Miss Liya weak?” Muen scratched his head, genuinely puzzled.

“I wasn’t its match at all—how is that not weak?” Liya said, dejected.

Looking at the giant carcass floating in the lake, she felt the gap between herself and a top-tier peer like Muen grow even starker. No matter how hard she worked, she thought, maybe she’d never bridge it.

“Not being good at fighting doesn’t equal weak.”

Muen suddenly smiled. “And right then, it’s because of you that I beat it. Otherwise, I was thinking of just booking it.”

“...”

Liya’s body tightened. She glanced back, stealing a look at Muen’s guileless eyes out of the corner of her eye. For some reason, ripples stirred again deep in her heart—like the lake’s surface right now—lingering, unable to calm.

“But compared to small stuff like that...”

Muen’s gaze shifted to the vague treetops in the distance. He coughed into a fist. “Ahem, Miss Liya—are you okay like that?”

“Like... that?”

Liya tilted her head, confused.

Then, following the split-second direction of Muen’s eyes when he looked back—she lowered her head blankly...

Yeah, after escaping that hateful octopus, she had put her clothes back on immediately.

The problem was...

Her outer layer was white to begin with, and now soaked through. It clung tight to her skin—not only sketching those grand curves in sharp relief but faintly tinting the color of the flesh beneath...

“Uu...”

In an instant it was like a boiler vented steam. A broad blush swept the girl’s face. Liya hugged her chest and crouched, eyes misting. “P-pervert!”

“Ahem. I didn’t look. I’m a gentleman.”

“Uu... bad person. I’m not talking to you.”

“Do you have a change of clothes?”

“No...”

“....”

Muen bared his teeth with a twinge, a strange guilt quietly filling him. After all, Liya—the future Saintess—reduced to such a sorry state... was basically his fault.

She won’t get petty over this and make me pay later, will she?

With a sigh, Muen shrugged off his outer coat and draped it over her shoulders.

“Make do for now. Don’t complain I smell.”

“Eh?”

Liya blinked, looked up, and reflexively pinched the coat’s edge with slender fingers. “What about you, Muen?”

“I’m fine.”

With only a vest and shirt left, Muen rolled up his sleeves, his biceps standing out. He said proudly, “I’m a warrior. Not to brag, but when I first broke into Second Rank, I soaked in a river for a full day and night in late autumn. Weather like this is nothing to me.”

“Really?”

Liya blinked, curious. “But why did Muen soak in a river for a whole day and night?”

“Ahem—some things are better left unexamined.”

Muen chuckled it off and looked around. “Anyway, let’s find a spot, get a campfire going, and rest.”

“A campfire...”

Liya hesitated. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.”

Sensing her worry, Muen reassured her. “If they have a way to track us, even if we erase our trail, it’ll be hard to shake them. Conversely, if it’s just luck, in a forest this big, even # Nоvеlight # if we hold a bonfire party they’ll struggle to find us.

“Besides...”

Muen reached out and grabbed. A huge octopus tentacle appeared in his hand. He sounded a bit excited.

“I just realized—maybe because of its size, or because it didn’t need it—this octopus actually isn’t poisonous.

“So, Miss Liya... even if you don’t like big octopuses, surely you won’t dislike sizzling, fragrant grilled octopus, right?”

“...”

Liya looked at the hateful tentacle. The words “don’t like” were on the tip of her tongue—but, perfectly on cue, her uncooperative stomach protested.

The girl’s face blossomed red again.

Muen laughed and swept his arm. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go—rare chance for a barbecue party!”

...

A clearing by the lake. The bonfire burned bright, lighting the girl’s face with extra radiance.

Liya sat before the flames, chin in her hands, quietly watching Muen use a pure-white, exquisite short blade to deftly descale the giant tentacle, slice it, skewer it on whittled sticks, and set it to roast. In between, he ground some unknown plants into powder and sprinkled them over the skewers. In short order, a mouthwatering aroma rolled out, making fingers itch.

As she swallowed, Liya couldn’t help but wonder—was this... really something a duke’s son, pampered from childhood, should know how to do?

Ariel had been fiercely independent since childhood too, but Liya would wager the food she made wouldn’t whet the appetite like this.

She tried several times to help, but Muen shooed her back with, “How could I let a lady do it herself?”

So, at loose ends, the girl hugged her knees and stole glances at Muen’s focused profile.

This person... was getting harder and harder to see through.

...

“Here—eat.”

Soon, Muen handed over a skewer.

Liya took a light bite. As expected, just like she’d hoped—though there was barely any seasoning, the ingredient’s own texture, plus those unknown spices, made it unbelievably delicious.

“Did Muen study this?” Liya finally couldn’t help asking.

“Mm?”

Muen blinked, then smiled. “Didn’t study in particular. Back in my 996 days, my rare hobby after work was grilling skewers.”

“Nine-nine... six?”

“Don’t mind it—treat it like a nasty bit of culture.”

“Oh. Then what about these spices?”

“That,” he said, “we owe to my esteemed ancestors.”

“Eh?”

“Thanks to the noble ancestors who’d rather stuff several thousand oddball books into the dukedom’s library than a single magic tome.” Muen sighed with feeling.

“I—Is that so...”

Half understanding, Liya pressed on, “Then those two knives of yours... are they ancestral too? I feel like...”

“Hallucination. Definitely hallucination!”

Cold sweat popped on Muen’s brow. He hurriedly tucked Elizabeth under his butt and said gravely, “You’re imagining things. This blade has nothing to do with the Church. Nothing!”

“Is that so...”

Liya pouted, puzzled. “But I feel like...”

She peeked at Muen wiping sweat and snorted a laugh, then said nothing more—just hugged her knees and watched the leaping fire.

How strange.

They were in a crisis; she’d just faced something terrifying. And yet, at this moment, just sitting beside this person—her heart still felt calm. Peaceful.

“Sleepy?”

Muen’s voice sounded. “Then good night, Miss Liya. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Liya.”

“Mm?”

“Just call me Liya.”

“...All right.”

Muen smiled a little. “Then you call me Muen.”

“Mm. Good night, Muen.”

“Good night.”

...

Night again, stars bright as ever.

A chill wind blew off the lake. Liya opened her eyes and breathed out a white puff. Such a big temperature swing? It had felt stifling by day, and at night it was like plunging into winter.

She snuck a glance at Muen, not far away, sitting against a trunk in his thin shirt. After a moment’s thought, she scooted closer.

“Mm?”

Drowsy, Muen seemed to feel movement beside him and cracked an eye. “Still cold?”

“...”

Liya nodded lightly. “A little.”

“Then come a bit closer—if you don’t mind.”

Muen straightened a touch so she could lean more comfortably against him.

The girl leaned gently.

This way, he’d feel warmer too.

Thinking that, she held a little sweetness she still couldn’t quite understand and slipped into sleep.

...

“Hmm?!”

After a while, Muen’s eyes snapped open. He glanced at the girl by his side, his look complicated—like reason and EQ were waging a pitched battle across his brain.

Muen wasn’t some slow, gallant fool. He’d noticed the girl’s reactions.

And that was why he was confused.

In the end, the reason entrenched in his mind—and more persuasive—won out.

“I knew it. I’m overthinking it. Liya’s just too kind, and blushes easily. As the future Saintess, she’d be this gentle with anyone.”

“And besides, I haven’t done anything—if anything, I screwed her over. There’s no way the wall collapses before I even start digging at the base.”

“Impossible. Absolutely impossible!”

At that, Muen let out a relieved smile.

Good. If Liya could see him as a fairly good ordinary friend, that was more than fine.

Given how in the original book Liya and Ariel were one membrane shy of being a thing—if he pried that corner of the wall, he didn’t dare imagine how Ariel, in her mortified rage, would quarter him.

Of course, he wasn’t some stallion protagonist who tries to conquer every pretty girl he sees.

So this was good.

He would get her safely to the Holy City, and Ariel would help her become Saintess.

Everything would proceed exactly as in the original plot.

He, the little yellow-haired nobody unrelated to the story, would just watch things unfold as they should—that would be the best ending.

Thinking that, Muen closed his eyes with an easy heart.