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

“Ha... hahah, damn.”

Panting, Barton stared at the two halves of the corpse that excited him so much and couldn’t help cursing.

“I was going to spare your life for a while—have a good bit of fun with you right in front of Muen Campbell. Who told you to run your damn mouth like that!

Forget it. I’ll take your pieces and lay them out before him. Just picturing it is delightful.”

He drew a long breath; his mood gradually leveled.

He did flare up easily, but as long as he could smell enough blood to thrill him, any amount of anger would soon dissolve.

Yes—enough blood. Like now, from the girl’s mangled—

Hm?

As if he’d suddenly noticed something, Barton’s body went rigid.

Then his eyes widened of their own accord.

“W...hat?”

The two halves of the girl’s body were indeed lying right there.

But from the severed edges of her delicate form, no blood flowed.

Nothing. Only...

A blaze of brilliant gold.

Then the gold surged and became a cloud of golden butterflies, wings fluttering, dancing in the air.

Exquisitely beautiful—and it chilled Barton to the marrow.

An afterimage?

Or a duplicate?

But—when?

Even as disbelief twisted his face—

“Crash—”

All around, where dust still billowed from the felled trees, a dazzling gold flared. In the next instant, chains as thick as fingers pierced the haze and shot straight at him.

Barton’s pupils shrank; his battle aura spun up on reflex—but those golden butterflies that had been drifting so gracefully suddenly dove at him all at once.

【Divine Hymn】

As if a distant, sacred chant rang out, the golden butterflies became a torrent of holy light. Barton’s mind and flesh both seized at the same time, and his aura scattered for a breath.

When he came back to himself, he found his body and limbs already bound tight in golden chains.

“This is...”

“I told you before—I like to read.”

At last, the girl’s voice sounded.

Barton snapped his head toward the swirling dust.

“So, I’m not stupid.

“Just as you said, Mr. Barton—someone who isn’t even a warrior, who’s never truly fought, who’s always only done support work behind others—someone that weak... how could I possibly rush in and take you head-on?”

“In other words...”

“That’s right. The one you worked so hard to fight just now was merely a holy-light afterimage I created. By the way, the inspiration came from Muen.”

Barton’s eyes went bloodshot.

With the truth laid bare, the oddities from earlier surfaced in his mind one by one.

For example: when the girl shaped her holy light into a blade before him but didn’t immediately attack—wasn’t that just to plant the idea that she might close in?

And that holy blade that ignored his aura... of course it ignored it—because it was fake, damn it!

And if he thought carefully, that “intense battle” between them... in truth, neither of them had actually touched the other.

Ha—damn it—he’d almost pissed himself at the time!

“Damn, damn, damn!”

He shook with rage. So many holes, so many flaws—yet guided by the girl’s deliberate baiting, he still fell for it.

He’d been like a stupid prey animal, led step by step by a sly hunter into this ridiculous-looking trap!

He was the hunter—she was supposed to be the prey!

“But!”

“So what!”

Barton drew a deep breath, steadied himself, and roared toward the girl hidden behind the dust:

“You’re just wasting time!”

“...Heh. You didn’t take the chance to run. Don’t tell me you’re still expecting someone to save you...”

“I’m not expecting anyone to save me.”

She cut him off.

“And I’ve said it many times already—this time, I don’t plan to run.”

“...S-So what!”

He blinked, then kept bellowing:

“You think something like this can hold me? Chains? I’ll just use my powerful martial skill and—”

“Clatter...”

Before he could finish, more chains whipped from the dust and wrapped precisely around... his fingers.

“Eh?”

Barton suddenly went pale.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Barton?”

Footsteps sounded. Liya finally stepped out of the drifting dust, bathed in holy light, unstained by grime.

Her eyes were calm as she asked softly:

“It’s only your hands and feet bound. Your aura should still circulate. Why not use... that mighty ‘martial skill’ of yours?”

“You...”

For the first time, fear glinted in his eyes. His voice shook.

“How did you figure it out?”

“It was simple. Your move was too abnormal—and too strong. So strong it clashed with how... ordinary you are in everything else at Fourth Rank: strength, speed, technique.

“So I wondered if you were borrowing some outside power.

Once I thought that, the answer was obvious.”

She pointed. The chains tightened, lifting one of his hands. His sleeve fell back, revealing what was hidden there... an ancient, simple bracelet.

As expected.

There were only a few things that could make someone suddenly stronger.

Magitech implements.

Magic scrolls.

Alchemical weapons.

But all of those left obvious traces to sense.

Which left just one category.

Among all types of items, the ones notorious for their uncanny, unpredictable nature—

Ancient Relics.

“And Ancient Relics often require activation conditions,” Liya said. “In your case... it’s curling your fingers, isn’t it? How convenient. No wonder you made such a name for yourself across the Empire with that single trick.”

“Y-You—you know it, so what!”

Back to the wall, he forced his voice hard and cold:

“There’s still the gap in realm between us. I’m a powerful Fourth-Rank warrior. These little chains—I can break them with my body al—

Eh? Why... can’t I?”

Frenzy drained into pallid despair.

He poured his Fourth-Rank aura into a mad struggle, but those fine-looking golden chains didn’t budge an inch.

“Of course you can’t.”

Liya trailed her fingers along the chains, speaking casually.

“I had plenty of time just now to engrave one hundred and twenty Third-Tier fixed arrays onto these chains. Even for a Fourth Rank, breaking free will take... some time.”

“W... what?”

Barton stared like she was joking.

“One hundred and twenty Third-Tier fixed arrays? Impossible. It’s been what, not even three minutes? Even Fularl couldn’t work that fast!”

“It’s possible.”

“As long as you read more.”

She said it seriously, then began walking toward him.

Holy light gathered in her hands again, sharpening into a blade.

This time it was no illusion—only pure, lethal intent.

“W-Wait!”

Panic set in.

“Let’s talk—let’s talk!

That was a misunderstanding. I was wrong! I was really wrong!

I’ll pay any price—don’t kill me, please don’t kill me!”

Her steps didn’t slow.

“Right—I can give you this Ancient Relic!

It bears my mark—if you kill me, it’ll self-destruct!

It’s valuable—can threaten even a Fifth Rank!

Trade it for my life, you’ll profit—absolutely!”

A few steps from him, Liya finally stopped.

She tilted her head toward his wrist and murmured:

“An Ancient Relic... precious?”

“Yes, yes!”

His eyes lit; he rushed out the words:

“It’s worth a fortune—a king’s ransom! Even if you don’t use it, at auction it would fetch at least—”

Crack.

The crisp sound rang out, cutting him off.

He stared, dumbstruck, as Liya withdrew the holy blade—then at his own wrist.

The Ancient Relic that had made his name as the Dismemberer, worth at least upwards of a billion, that priceless treasure—collapsed to dust.

“W-Why!”

Twisted with rage, he screamed at her, “Do you have any idea what you’ve destroyed—how precious—”

“I know.”

Her face was impassive.

“But... who knows what tricks you’d bury in it.”

“...”

His expression froze.

“Also, Ariel told me: never accept things people offer you—especially things men offer.

Hmm...”

She tilted her little head, a touch of girlish confusion slipping through.

“Did I already break what Ariel said...? Forget it. If it’s from Muen, it’s fine to accept.”

Liya raised the holy blade and leveled it at his chest.

“Wait, don’t—”

He jolted back to himself, begging in terror.

“Don’t—please—anything, I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me!”

He saw her hands tremble—and hope flickered in his eyes.

“L-Little—miss, beautiful miss—you haven’t killed before, have you? Spare me—please spare me. There’s no need to stain your hands over trash like me.

And I’ve realized my mistakes—truly. What I said I’d do before—I’ll never do again.

You’re so kind, so sweet—you won’t—”

Puh—

The blade slid into flesh.

Her hands still shook, but Liya bit down on her silver teeth and, just as the books said—when facing evil men, drive the blade hard into the heart—and twist.

“Kh... kh...”

Barton coughed blood. The light drained from his eyes as he stared blankly at her.

“You...”

“I don’t [N O V E L I G H T] want to kill.”

She twisted the holy blade with force, watching as the light scorched his flesh bit by bit. Her voice was steady.

“But... you wanted to kill Muen.

“I’m very angry.”