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

“The trees... grow meat!”

Liya’s voice was still sweet and pleasant, but as her soft exclamation rang through the silent grove, Muen felt as if the warm light filtering through the leaves suddenly turned a little cold.

“Meat... don’t tell me...”

Images from certain sanity-shredding works of his past life flashed through Muen’s mind. Meat growing on trees—could it be...

“Humans?”

“No, no, no! Just ordinary meat—mutton!”

Liya shook her head frantically, clearly startled by what he was thinking. Only then did Muen catch the rank tang of lamb mixed into the smell of blood. It did seem to be just mutton.

But even if it was mutton, how could it grow on trees? And the river in front of them flowed with milk...

“Not just mutton! I found different ‘fruits’ on different trees. When I cut them open, they were beef, pork, and so on—many kinds. Oh, and this...”

Liya produced a plant that looked like a pitcher. Tilting its open mouth, she poured out a viscous, pale yellow liquid.

“Inside—pure honey. Natural, pure honey!”

“Honey?”

Muen muttered without thinking:

“Meat growing on trees... a whole river of milk... and honey everywhere...”

Huh? Why did that sound familiar?

A sudden chill prickled him.

[A land flowing with milk and honey, where pork and mutton grow in the fields, a pure realm without hunger or pain...]

“So those lines in the ancient texts weren’t flowery exaggerations, but literal descriptions?”

Muen was stunned. Everything matched the Church pamphlet’s quotations from the old records describing the fabled “Lost Land, the Golden Country.” He had assumed it was poetic praise. Humans always yearn for and exaggerate the mysterious.

He hadn’t expected it to be—real.

This made no sense...

Then again, in a world where even girls could, by magic, conceive with girls—was “sense” the point?

Ancient magic was said to be vast and wondrous. Perhaps this was some kind of magic...

“Just to be safe, let me ask...”

Muen rubbed his chin, looking at Liya with a grave expression.

“If it were the Goddess’s power—could She do this?”

“The Goddess...”

Liya glanced at the bleeding “fruit” in her hand, thought for a moment, then nodded firmly.

“If it’s the Goddess, yes.”

“After all, the reason humanity has advanced this far, with such a large population, is largely due to the Goddess’s blessings!”

“Is that so?”

Muen lifted a brow, surprised. Even he, who didn’t worship the Life Church, had heard that the Church had once developed and improved many high-yield crops, saving countless lives and laying the foundation for the population boom a century ago. He had thought it was magic—but that was the Goddess’s grace?

—For a deity bearing the name “Life,” it made sense.

Though even Her grace couldn’t eliminate all hunger from the world. Muen recalled the winter in Belrand: even with the new Lower City administrator, aided by the ducal house and the royal faction, people still starved in that long season. Fewer than in past years, true—but still.

On the bright side, Ariel had gotten free black bread because of those efforts.

“Wait... without hunger.”

He remembered the latter half of those ancient lines:

“Could it be that Canterville was founded by devotees of the Goddess who truly sought to create a land without hunger at all—using the Goddess’s grace to engineer it?”

Then the lack of farmland made sense. In a place covered in food, who needed fields?

“Mm... possible. But blessings that alter life’s structure to this extent would require a staggering amount of faith.”

Liya knit her delicate brows, thinking hard. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. She turned to look into the distance.

“Right—that barrier!”

“The barrier?”

“Mm. If the Goddess’s grace were applied only within a bounded area, the faith required might not be as immense as we imagine.”

“So... that’s why Canterville sealed itself off?”

Muen understood at once. Altering a nation and altering an entire world were two different concepts. Turning the whole world into this would be impossible unless the Life Goddess descended Herself.

But {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} if a congregation of Her devotees gathered and, through Her might, created an isolated realm—everywhere food, no strife or hunger—an ideal land praised as the Golden Country... then as Liya said, theoretically it was entirely feasible.

Perhaps that was Canterville’s origin.

“An ideal nation without hunger or pain...?”

Muen couldn’t help lifting his head to the azure sky. It was clear and transparent, nothing like the ceiling of a ruin buried underground. The clouds were white, shifting in shape. There was no sun, yet light fell gently through the leaves; a breeze blew, delightfully cool.

Everything was just as it had seemed when he first stepped in—

So beautiful.

...

But.

Could there really be a place so beautiful?

If all had gone as the ideal planned, then why was this village abandoned, and why had this Golden Country become a Lost Land buried beneath the earth?

“Riddles, one after another.”

Muen rubbed his temples. Still, having an explanatory framework gave him some comfort. Otherwise, a river of milk and meat on trees would make him suspect he’d blundered into yet another trap laid by some Evil God—who might jump out from some unknown corner to give him a “loving hug.”

Honestly—no thanks. Please don’t.

“Muen, what should we do next?”

Seeing him lost in thought, Liya suddenly asked.

“Ah—sorry. Got carried away. For now, let’s scout the surroundings, then keep moving. As for these things, we shouldn’t eat—”

“I don’t mean that.”

“Eh?”

“I mean...”

At some point she had tossed away the meat-shaped fruit and the honey-filled pitcher plant. Twisting her fingers shyly, she looked at him.

“The river is all milk. It seems... you can’t wash up.”

“...”

Muen blinked and touched his hair.

Right. No water to wash with. Then what—

“It’s o-okay.”

Holy Light, pure and cleansing, bloomed luxuriously in Liya’s hands. Cheeks flushing, she stepped toward him.

“Don’t move, Muen. Leave it to me. I’ll help you.”