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

Night.

Somewhere in the wilderness outside Belrand.

The withered old man sitting cross-legged before a campfire suddenly opened his eyes, a fierce murderous glint flashing across his dull pupils.

“My avatar... was actually defeated.”

King Yintuo stared at the flames before him. In his vision, those flames were also gray, nothing worth looking at. This action merely reflected his inner unrest.

Originally, to him, that avatar—only Fifth Rank, used solely to enter the city unnoticed—was not a big deal.

But what mattered was the identity that avatar bore, and what it was guarding.

“‘That’ must not have any accidents.”

In the shadows, some sort of gaze was spying on him.

King Yintuo turned his head, pinched a blade of grass, and flicked it with his finger.

Pssht.

From the darkness came the sound of flesh tearing and a stifled groan of pain.

A faint scent of blood spread.

Every gaze withdrew for the moment out of fear.

Seizing that chance, without hesitation, King Yintuo picked up the sound transmission stone.

...

“What? The avatar was taken care of?!”

In the circular meeting hall, Robin froze at the news. His bird wings almost dropped the transmission stone from his grip.

But soon, shock turned into hysterical fury. He roared into the transmission stone:

“What happened?! King Yintuo! Didn’t you say that under a Crowned One’s realm, absolutely no one could get past your avatar?!”

“I have never said such words. The term ‘absolute’ does not exist in this world. But it is true that an ordinary Fifth Rank warrior—or even a Radiant-tier mage—cannot get past my avatar.”

Across the transmission stone, King Yintuo’s voice remained steady, though from beneath that calm tone, one could faintly hear suppressed rage.

“But you, Robin—you promised me that what you all were doing could never be discovered!”

“Of course! I put that research facility in the most concealed location in the entire city—so hidden that it doesn’t even belong to the city!”

Robin snapped back:

“That is the Shadow of Belrand! Do you know the Shadow of Belrand? Ah, right, you naturally don’t. There are fewer than ten people in this city who even know that place exists. Ten—”

Halfway through, Robin suddenly seemed to think of something. His expression shifted. A terrible possibility appeared abruptly in his mind.

He wasted no more time, abruptly cut the transmission, and spread his wings, shooting into the night.

Soon, he landed atop a rooftop, staring toward the heavily guarded courtyard not far away.

Clatter, clatter—metal scraped. An armored figure slowly knelt half-down not far from him.

“Lord Robin.”

“Any anomalies here?”

“Reporting, my lord, none.”

“Really?”

Robin whipped around, glaring at the figure.

“You are absolutely certain that Her Highness Princess Celicia... is still inside?”

The figure showed a trace of panic and bowed deeply.

“Of course I’m certain. An entire squad of Royal Knights patrols day and night. Nothing that happens here can escape our vigilance. As for Her Highness Celicia... we brought her dinner not long ago. She was indeed still in the room.”

“...I see.”

Robin fell silent.

This result was beyond his expectations.

If Celicia was still obediently confined here, then who could possibly have found the Shadow of Belrand, a place not even belonging to this city?

No—now was not the time to dwell on this.

Robin dialed the transmission stone again. This time, the one who answered was not King Yintuo, but a voice so hoarse it resembled a venomous snake hissing.

“That place has been exposed. Send people to evacuate them quickly. And those things—take whatever can still be taken!”

“Yes, Lord Robin.”

The voice answered respectfully, then hesitated slightly:

“Evacuating personnel is not a problem. But those things inside... it seems it’s already too late.”

“Then...”

Robin closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.

“Other than Yeluer, eliminate everything that needs to be eliminated. We must not let living evidence fall into the enemy’s hands! We cannot afford to expose anything else!”

“Yes.”

After issuing a series of orders, Robin spread his wings again, flying toward a remote manor on the outskirts.

After circling several times to ensure no one could lock onto his position, he turned into a wisp of green smoke and dropped into the manor’s chimney.

Soon, inside a certain room of the manor, a figure slowly opened his eyes.

“Attend me.”

A slightly imposing voice sounded.

“Prepare a carriage. I am going to the Imperial Palace.”

...

“Lord Yeluer—bad news, bad news!”

Yeluer, in the middle of a critical moment in his experiment, was once again interrupted by his subordinate’s panic. He lifted his head, about to explode in fury—when his subordinate’s next words made cold sweat burst instantly down his back.

“King Yintuo lost!”

“Wh-... what? King Yintuo lost?!”

Yeluer froze, then immediately grabbed the man by the collar, his expression contorted.

“Say that again?! How is that possible? That’s King Yintuo! A veteran [N O V E L I G H T] Crowned One! Even the old Dean might not match him! How could he possibly lose to some small-time thieves?!”

“B-but he really lost...”

The subordinate was on the verge of tears.

“What do we do? Those people still haven’t come yet—they’re probably recovering from their injuries. Should we strike now?”

“Strike your mother—strike how?! I’m a researcher! Fighting and killing is not my specialty!”

Yeluer whipped around, frantically gathering documents.

“What else can we do—run! Quickly, take anything that can be taken!”

“Yes!”

The subordinate sprinted off.

Yeluer suddenly looked up, watching the silhouette disappear. His eyes flickered.

With what he knew of Robin, the people in this research facility would not live long after escaping.

Of course—he would. Because to those people, he was still extremely valuable.

Yeluer turned toward a certain corner.

Inside a precision apparatus, a small figure floated up and down within a pool of emerald liquid.

“Looks like I’ll have to slow the progress... just a little.”

Yeluer murmured softly:

“I don’t want to lose my usefulness too quickly.”

...

“How long has it been?”

Muen opened his eyes. Before him were those same flawlessly curved peaks, and beyond the broken factory walls, the swirling gray mist.

Hearing the familiar question, Celicia took out the pocket watch from Muen’s arms, glanced at it, then tucked it back.

“Ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes... seems like recovery is faster than before.”

Muen glanced at his abdomen.

Beneath the torn clothing, newly grown skin was visible. With the help of the black flame, in less than ten minutes, the injury that almost severed his waist was nearly healed.

The process had indeed been agonizing, but Celicia maintaining the lap pillow for those ten minutes had brought tremendous comfort to his mind.

The saying “a beautiful girl’s lap pillow is omnipotent” was, indeed, not wrong.

Still, he felt it was a pity he hadn’t been able to use his much more sensitive face to enjoy that sensation.

He would have to find an opportunity later.

“Right... we’ve been delayed so long. Those guys inside... surely they haven’t already run away?!”

Muen shot upright, suddenly remembering the purpose of this trip.

But Celicia did not seem worried.

“If they wanted to run, they would’ve run already. Those people aren’t idiots.”

“True...”

“Since you’ve recovered, let’s go.”

Celicia rose as well and headed first toward the deeper part of the room.

“Let’s see what kind of secret is hidden inside.”