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

In the Grand Cathedral of Emille, the Highest Sanctuary.

Under the pitch-black firmament, alchemically forged spheres, like stars, revolved with precise rhythm along their ordained orbits. The ticking of gears and winding springs filled the world; the silver moon and golden sun converged here, and the trails of countless stars intertwined amid the boundless holy light, sketching out mysterious lines.

Beneath the thick earth, a projected ruin covered by towering walls replaced what once stood here, becoming the grandest construct in this place. Yet even within that false sky that seemed enough to replace reality itself, it still appeared insignificant.

“Ulrons.”

Beneath the heavens, above the projection, a white-robed elder stood upon nothingness, his solemn gaze cast toward the ruins.

“Present.”

“How goes the analysis of the Lost Land?”

“The outer layer is nearly complete.”

A voice drifted faintly from nowhere.

“But the interior remains unknown. Someone ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) will need to open the passage.”

“What do the analysis results show?”

“All systems normal.”

“All systems normal... is that so?”

The Pope stood with hands behind his back—nothing like the kindly old man who once met with Muen. Though he was smaller than all the vast constructs surrounding him, the instant he stood there, it felt as though the entire world revolved around him. He lowered his eyes, chewing on those words, gazing down upon the ruin’s projection in thought.

“How fare the Sanctum of the Axis and the Hall of Judgment?”

“They have completed their assigned tasks.”

“And the Saintess?”

“She is in prayer to the Goddess.”

“Good.”

A glint flashed within the Pope’s aged eyes as he issued his decree:

“Then let them begin. The children have been waiting long enough.”

“Yes.”

The reply faded into the distance.

Boom—

Only the thunderous hum of shifting star tracks remained.

...

“What are you spacing out for, kid?”

Wiggling its rear, Pink Bear swaggered into the gathering hall where everyone had assembled. After a quick glance around, it slung one furry arm over the absent-minded Muen and teased:

“Ever since you snuck off with that girl and came back, you’ve been acting weird. Tell me, did you two do something bad behind my back?”

“Something bad? Yeah, definitely bad.”

Muen slapped away the paw with a cold grin.

“I was just thinking where I should bury a certain shameless pink bear who keeps slandering me. Uncle, any advice?”

“Hmm. I recommend burying me in a beautiful girl’s chest. That’d make me happy, and maybe I’ll forget to tell Celicia.”

“Tell her what?”

Muen lifted his chin, answering solemnly, “I’m pure and innocent. My conscience is clear.”

“Tsk, tsk. Every scumbag says that.”

“I’m not a scumbag!”

“Scumbags say that too!”

“You don’t even have a girlfriend—how can you call me one?!”

“I—”

“Muen.”

A soft, melodic voice interrupted their bickering.

The girl, now wearing a pale green dress, was suddenly standing beside him before anyone noticed.

“Sorry, I’m late again. You’re not mad, are you?”

Her long hair fell loosely down her back; hands clasped behind her, her small face looked even lovelier framed by the new outfit—shy yet radiant. Even without lights, the hall seemed to grow brighter.

“Shit.”

Pink Bear’s eyes bulged as he gripped Muen’s shoulder.

“Look, look, she actually changed into a new outfit just to go fight, and it’s short enough you can see her thighs if she moves. And you call that innocent—”

A crystal card appeared before Pink Bear’s eyes.

“There’s two hundred thousand in here. Go buy yourself some lollipops.”

Muen’s voice was expressionless, fingers pinching the card.

“Yes, yes—faithful Sir Muen.”

Pink Bear’s furry hand snatched the card, his tone suddenly serious:

“I, Pink Bear, am a vault of secrets. Rest assured, what happened today stays between you, me, and Heaven—”

“Get lost.”

“Getting lost immediately!”

Pink Bear gave an exaggerated gentleman’s bow, then mimed zipping his lips before scampering back to the Academy’s group—without a shred of dignity befitting an elder.

“What were you two talking about just now?” Liya blinked curiously.

“About Pink Bear’s favorite lollipop flavor. That pervert likes ones labeled ‘little girl flavor.’ Stay far away from him.”

After exchanging brief nods with Senior Fanny and the others from the Academy, Muen turned back with a smile.

“Anyway, forget that. How did you sleep last night?”

“A little nervous...” Liya clenched her tiny fists. “But I slept well enough!”

“Good. Then your chances of becoming the Saintess just rose by ten percent.”

“Heh...”

A derisive snicker sounded beside him.

The white-silk-stockinged loli named Anne deliberately brushed past, the bizarre figure behind her casting a shadow heavy with pressure. Muen frowned slightly but said nothing, merely stepping aside.

“My, my. So energetic this early in the morning. Already setting your sights on the Saintess title?”

From the opposite side, Paul followed behind the platinum princess, greeting Muen in his usual friendly way. As he passed, however, he leaned down and whispered:

“You’d better watch yourself, Muen Campbell.”

“Hm?”

Muen raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.

“Don’t glare at me like that. I’m not here to issue a challenge.”

Paul squinted and smiled.

“Just a little rumor—someone already thinks you’re an easy target.”

“I see.”

Muen nodded without the slightest surprise.

“That’s only natural.”

He didn’t believe that tossing a fork one night would be enough to intimidate everyone. These prodigies weren’t cowards; they might even take his stunt as a provocation.

A playboy who only clings to a princess’s thigh versus monstrous talents with terrifying records—any fool could see which to pick.

“You really are interesting, Muen Campbell.”

Paul stroked his chin, studying Muen’s unchanged expression—only to be silenced by the platinum princess’s glare. He hurried after her.

Muen’s gaze followed him for a moment before shifting—and met another pair of eyes, warm as spring wind.

Freya, surrounded by her companions, nodded and smiled at him. From her shadow, however, surged murderous intent.

No simp ever wins the house.

Muen muttered inwardly and looked away.

Elsewhere, Miss Phil Seagel was still half-asleep, trailed by the adventurer known as Thunder Spear.

“Seems everyone’s here.”

All chatter ceased. The hall fell silent.

Clergy in solemn robes appeared, waving their hands; scrolls pulsing with magic floated into each person’s grasp.

“Spatial Magic Scrolls,” the priest announced. “If you face mortal peril, they will activate automatically and return you here. But they work only once. So I urge you—think carefully before you act.”

He swept his gaze across the crowd, face grave.

“I trust you all know the rules. Your task is to venture deeper within. All discoveries belong to you personally. Beyond that, whoever unearths the millennium-old secret lost in Canterville shall receive an additional reward from His Holiness the Pope—

—The Magical Notes of the legendary Origin-tier Archmage, Meladomir!”

“What?!”

“The one from the textbooks?!”

“An archmage from a thousand years ago?!”

“That’s worth as much as an ancient relic!”

The crowd grew ever more restless—except for Muen, who looked utterly baffled.

The old loli’s magic notes? What the hell am I supposed to do with that—use it to press my instant noodles?

But before he could think of any use for it besides that, golden doors opened before them all. From within came a breeze, as if from another world.

The trial known as the Holy Baptism Ceremony—had officially begun.