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

The voice was warm and gentle, like a soft breeze, as if even this newly arrived southern spring had grown brighter.

Muen turned his head to look.

Beneath the angel-carved gates, an opulent carriage approached at an unhurried pace. White gauze drifted lightly, sketching a hazy silhouette.

The outline was breathtakingly beautiful, yet it stirred not the slightest wicked thought. On the contrary, a mere glance brought a feeling as if one’s soul were being purified—one could not bear to profane it.

“Ah, Her Highness the Saintess...”

The believers along the road who were still at morning prayer suddenly wore expressions of fervor and knelt respectfully.

“I actually get to see Her Highness the Saintess...”

“Please bless me, Your Highness...”

“Please, all of you, rise.”

That same springlike voice drifted out. A soft power brushed by, lifting those fervent believers to their feet one by one.

“Morning prayer is not something you should be distracted from.”

“Y-yes...”

As if captivated by that figure and then brought back to themselves beneath the purest holy light, the faithful hastily returned to their devotions to the goddess.

“Saintess?”

Muen blinked and swallowed hard. Looking to the Pink Bear at his side, he asked in a low voice:

“Why would the legendary Saintess appear here in person?”

Muen certainly didn’t think she’d come specifically to receive him.

His status as a duke’s son was noble, but only within the Leopold Empire. Once abroad, the heir of a great noble house was, in practice, nothing.

All the more so not someone worthy of being welcomed personally by a Saintess revered by countless believers of the goddess across the continent.

Unless...

“Heh-heh.”

At Muen’s astonishment, the Pink Bear planted fists on hips, snout practically tilting up to the sky:

“Impressed, aren’t you? For your sake, I leveraged my excellent connections and my personality that shines like the sun to invite the current Saintess! This is an honor others might not enjoy in a lifetime! Only someone as awesome as me...”

“Oh? Excellent connections? A personality that shines like the sun?”

A smiling, gentle voice cut mercilessly into the Pink Bear’s proud bragging:

“Mr. Pink Bear, you really do love to joke. If I remember right, a certain someone knelt and begged me for a full day before I...”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait...”

The Pink Bear immediately pulled a face. “Leave me a little dignity in front of the kid.”

“Dignity is something you earn for yourself—not something you maintain by performing your strange, shameful skits in broad daylight, Mr. Pink... Bear.”

There was a playful lilt to the Saintess’s tone. Even through the gauze that concealed all sight and perception, one could almost see the girl-like curve at the corner of her lips.

But the Pink Bear shivered, squatted off to the side with his head in his arms like a shut-in, and—for once—fell silent.

Huh? As expected of Her Excellency the Saintess—she can even make that shameless Pink Bear behave so meekly?

Muen blinked in wonder. His gaze drifted and, for the briefest instant, met the look peering out from within the gauze.

Muen’s heart clenched. He straightened at once and, using the most proper noble etiquette, offered a respectful greeting:

“Greetings for the first time, Your Highness the Immaculate Saintess. I am—”

“Muen Campbell. I know your name.”

The Saintess, titled “Immaculate,” spoke with the same pleasing smile in her voice that allowed no stray thoughts.

“I’ve heard of you.”

“Eh?”

“You seem a bit more handsome than the rumors suggest.”

Muen could feel that sacred gaze move over him.

“Your Highness flatters me,” Muen said with a hand to his chest and a small smile. “My radiance is not even one ten-thousandth of yours.”

“Giggle. What a sweet-tongued child.”

A soft glow suddenly enveloped Muen, and the fatigue he’d accumulated over two days of rushed travel vanished at once.

But before he could savor that strange power, the Saintess’s voice sounded again:

“All right. Hand the child over to me.”

“The child...”

Muen paused—then suddenly realized.

The “child” she meant was Liya.

Candidates for Saintess were personally designated by the current Saintess. In other words, Liya and the Saintess before him were, strictly speaking... a teacher and student.

Understanding this, Muen hurriedly stepped aside.

“Liya is in the carriage.”

“Giggle. No need to rush. While I am here, there will be no problem.”

A veil of holy light—purer than any sacred glow Muen had ever seen—shrouded the carriage. Liya’s body slowly floated out and was drawn into the gauze.

“Mmm. As expected, it’s the black mist left by that Calamity. You truly are fortunate—to have escaped with your lives from the hands of a Calamity.” There was a hint of surprise in the Saintess’s tone.

“Then... Liya will be okay?”

“You’re very worried about her.”

A look from within the carriage turned a touch meaningful.

“Ahem.”

Muen cleared his throat. “It’s merely the concern between friends. Besides, Liya ended up like this because of me, so I have to watch over her until she recovers.”

“Is that so?”

The Saintess laughed softly.

“I’ll take it that way. As for Liya... rest assured. I already said it: while I am here, there will be no problem.”

Her voice was gentle, like that of a big sister next door, yet to Muen it carried absolute reassurance.

He exhaled long. The taut string inside him finally slackened. He bowed again, respectfully:

“Then I’ll entrust her to you.”

“Giggle. You’re not exactly in a position to be saying that.”

The Saintess teased, then looked a bit past Muen:

“Your Excellency Adolf, you’ve come from so far. Won’t you come into the city and sit a while?”

“I’ll pass.”

Adolf stroked his beard with a smile.

“Though I’m ashamed to say it, my task is complete. And I must hurry back. With this Calamity awakening, who knows how big a storm it’s already stirred up? I should return to prepare, just in case.”

“That is a shame. The Holy City’s spring tea is in its prime.”

“Truly a pity. If I get the chance, I’ll be sure to come taste it.”

The figure behind the gauze dipped her head lightly.

“Travel safely, Your Excellency Adolf.”

“By your good words, Your Highness.”

After the polite exchange, the convoy that had brought Muen here turned around on the spot and departed.

The shut-in Pink Bear finally raised his head, watching the receding carriages with sorrowful eyes.

“All right, it’s okay.”

Muen patted the Pink Bear’s shoulder, offering comfort:

“With Ariel’s abilities, she’ll definitely make it out of the forest. I also asked the Count of Ailer to keep an eye out—nothing will happen.”

After all, she’s the story’s destined heroine. With her ability, Muen wasn’t the least bit worried for her safety—nor did he need to be.

For all he knew, she’d gone into the forest and not only come out fine, but even stumbled into some colossal windfall and jumped three ranks on the spot.

“...Who’s worried about that flat-chested brat?”

The Pink Bear turned his ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ head, a trace of bitter indignation on his ursine face:

“I’m just thinking—if that old fossil Prang really tears up my tickets, what method should I use to really kick him in the butt!”

“...”

...

...

“Let’s enter the city as well.”

The opulent carriage, drawn by snowy white steeds, turned and rolled toward the towering giant city.

“We?”

Muen blinked and pointed at himself.

“I’m going with you too?”

Per his original plan, he should first regroup with the others from the Academy...

“Of course.”

The Saintess answered with a smile:

“You’re one of the important reasons I personally came out of the city to welcome anyone this time.”

“Me?”

“His Majesty wishes to see you.”

“...”

Muen’s breath hitched.

His Majesty.

In this city, there was only one person addressed that way.

The true earthly executor of the goddess’s will; the one at the pinnacle of humanity; the most exalted being on this continent—none other.

The Church of Life—the Pope.

“His Holiness the Pope... wants to meet me personally?”

“Yes.”

The Saintess nodded lightly. “I don’t know the details, but I heard it has to do with your teacher.”

“My teacher... I see...”

Muen’s hand went, by reflex, to the letter at his breast. A trace of warmth flowed through his heart.

He had thought he’d have to go through some tedious process—petitioning for an audience, mocked and refused by contemptuous clergy—only to whip out the letter and slap faces, walking the path the protagonist should have, before finally meeting His Holiness.

But he hadn’t expected it to be this simple.

Could it be... this time Teacher Mela hadn’t set him up? That her relationship with His Holiness was truly good?

“Looks like I really was overthinking it this time.”

Muen fully relaxed, speaking with heartfelt emotion:

“On the way back, I’ll pick up her favorite strawberry lollipops for Teacher Mela!”

Mm, that should be her favorite... right?

...

...

Muen walked, entering the city alongside the Saintess’s carriage.

Compared to going out, however, getting in proved a bit troublesome.

The believers, done with morning prayers, lit up with fervor the instant they saw that hazy figure in gauze and crowded around at once.

“Your Highness, my child’s illness...”

“Boil Hook-Orchid, Greenblades, and Dommoflower into a decoction. Three times a day.”

“Your Highness, my husband committed a crime...”

“Send him to the Tribunal. The goddess will judge.”

“Your Highness, how can I gain wealth...”

“Industry. Frugality. Wisdom.”

“Your Highness, I...”

A slender, fair hand slipped out from the gently billowing gauze and touched the brow of a believer—gaunt all over, clutching a goddess statue in both hands.

A holy radiance flashed. The believer—blind of both eyes, who refused to use a staff and prayed every day clutching the statue, falling so often he was covered in injuries—regained his sight.

“The goddess did not grant you a sound body so that you could spend every day lifting Her statue.”

The gaze from behind the gauze rested on the believer’s ecstatic eyes, and a voice that brooked no argument said:

“Tomorrow, go to the Manufactorium and seek work. Donate one-third of your monthly surplus to the church.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Fervor blazed brighter in the believer’s expression. He set the goddess statue respectfully before him and knelt.

More believers followed suit, kneeling like a surging tide—dark waves spreading far into the distance.

...

“Sorry. That took a little extra time.”

With the help of the arriving Holy Knights, the carriage finally broke free of the faithful and stopped before a tall hall roofed in stained glass.

The gauze lifted, and a figure stepped out—so radiant that the surrounding spring light dimmed—wreathed in holy glow.

Her white dress swayed—simple but not plain. Pale-gold hair spilled like satin.

Threads of gold traced from the back covered by her long hair, along fair skin, and slipped into the white silk gloves lightly sheathing her slender hands, a vision of sanctity.

Her exquisite face bore no trace of time. In the arch of her brows and the sweep of her eyes, all was gentle grace.

“You must be impatient by now.”

The Saintess smiled, asking Muen kindly.

“N-no, not at all.”

Feeling as if his very soul were nearly lured away by that smile, Muen snapped back to himself and waved both hands:

“To witness such an extraordinary sight is an honor for me.”

“What honor? They revere only the Saintess.”

“A Saintess is called a Saintess because she qualifies to be one—not because she is inherently a Saintess. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be that upcoming ceremony, would there?” Muen smiled.

“Heh. Smooth-tongued brat.”

The Saintess narrowed her eyes. “With talk like that, I wonder how many naïve little girls you’ll end up coaxing.”

“Ahem.”

Muen put on a straight face. “Your Highness misunderstands. There isn’t a single naïve little girl.”

“Feels like there’s subtext in that... Forget it. This isn’t the time to chat.”

With a casual wave of her hand, rich holy light flowed out, gently swaddling Liya.

“I’ll take this child for treatment first. Wait here patiently. His Majesty’s summons should arrive soon. Until then, you may look around as you wish. If you need anything, find the clergy here—so long as it isn’t excessive, I believe they can satisfy you.”

“Thank you.”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

The Saintess cast a glance at the Pink Bear, who had happily trotted after them, said nothing, and carried Liya through a side door.

“As expected of the current Saintess...”

Watching that peerless back disappear and recalling the spectacle of thousands of believers kneeling in unison, Muen couldn’t help but sigh:

“What beauty and gentleness.”

“Heh. I’ll grant the beauty. Where’d you see the gentleness?” the Pink Bear sneered nearby.

“Hm?”

Muen turned, puzzled.

“She treated me so kindly, and she patiently handled the believers’ troubles. How is that not gentle?”

“Tch.”

The Pink Bear curled his lip. “Did you forget how naturally she personally insulted me earlier? Is that what a gentle person does?”

“Personal insult? Ah... she called you non-burnable trash.”

“Right, so that counts...”

“Uncle.”

Muen suddenly pinched his chin and regarded the Pink Bear with utmost seriousness.

“W-what?”

“I think being called trash wasn’t because of Her Highness.”

“Huh?”

“It’s obviously because of you, isn’t it!”

“N-nonsense!”

The Pink Bear bulged his eyes.

“With looks this handsome and a demeanor this extraordinary, how could I possibly—”

“...You there, miss—yes, you. Would you come over a moment?”

Faced with the Pink Bear’s shamelessness, Muen fell silent for a beat, then stopped a passing nun and, pointing at the Pink Bear, asked:

“What is this?”

“A cute pink mascot bear?” the nun blinked.

“Hmph. See?” The Pink Bear preened. “She says I’m cute.”

“Excellent.”

Muen drew a deep breath—then, at a blistering speed, barked at the Pink Bear in one breath:

“Pink Bear! Don’t think—just answer! What are this young lady’s measurements?!”

“91! 60! 8—”

The Pink Bear clapped a paw over his mouth as he realized what he was doing.

Too late. A string of eyeballed numbers had already burst out.

“...”

After a brief, hollow silence, the nun—eyes losing their shine—kicked the Pink Bear in the shin and spat fiercely:

“Trash!”

Then she stormed off.

Muen spread his hands at the Pink Bear writhing on the ground, and said, schadenfreude plain:

“See? Told you so.”