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

”An Evil God?”

”Yes. An Evil God.”

Muen shifted into a different position, tilting his head as he studied the terrifying shadow beneath the lake more closely. ”The Evil God: the Fallen Holy Tree?”

”Yes. The Evil God: the Fallen Holy Tree. That is Its honored name. But don’t worry—shouting it a few times in this phantom won’t cause any trouble. Outside, you’ll have to rein it in a bit.”

Mela spoke with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. ”Being that close to that sword is basically the same as jamming your face right up against Its forehead and calling Its name to Its face. And Its morning temper is not small.”

”I see. I understand.”

So that must be why, now... no, why that one—who had probably already died—the First King had gone to such lengths to plan so much.

But...

”I get the logic, but why is it an Evil God again?”

Muen really couldn’t understand.

Being chased by his own maid—ran into an Evil God.

Saving a kidnapped senior—ran into an Evil God.

Happily duo-clearing a dungeon with Miss Saintess—ran into an Evil God.

And now, he just wanted to help Celicia take the throne and bring real benefits to the Empire’s people, definitely not because he wanted to snag a prince consort title or anything... how was this still an Evil God?

Had this world long since turned into the shape of Evil Gods, or was it that...

”Am I just naturally incompatible with Evil Gods or something?”

”Who knows?” Mela crossed her arms and put on an air of profound mystery. ”But maybe... this kind of heart-pounding encounter—maybe it really is part of your fate.”

”Heh. Then my fate is predictably fucking miserable.”

Muen gave two humorless snorts, then his expression turned serious as he looked at Mela.

”I’ve got another question I want to ask.”

”Ask.”

”What exactly is the Great Chaos?”

A thoughtful look surfaced in Muen’s eyes. ”I’ve checked a lot of historical documents and ancient records, but there’s barely anything recorded about that era. What I know right now is that it was a terrible disaster triggered by the descent of the so-called First Evil God... but judging from the Holy Tree’s fall, that period doesn’t seem like it was that simple.”

The golden tree was dazzling.

But the shadow was horrifying.

From what Teacher Mela had implied, it could be inferred that even though the First King was the reason the Holy Tree fell, before that ever happened, It had already accumulated enough “darkness.”

Evil God.

True God.

A history that had nearly vanished.

The era of Great Chaos that had nearly severed the world’s civilization and sent everything violently backward.

The more Muen tried to investigate, the more he vaguely sensed that, deep behind it all, there was some unbelievable truth being hidden.

”About that...” Mela lowered her gaze. A trace of remembrance appeared on her pale face, as if she were recalling memories from a very long time ago. ”The details aren’t something you should know yet. But I can tell you this: the so-called Great Chaos... though it was caused by gods, its fundamental cause... was people.”

”...So it wasn’t a natural disaster...”

”It was man-made.” Mela’s tone sank as she supplied the second half for him. ”Purely man-made.”

Muen fell silent for a moment, then his gaze dropped to the shadow beneath his feet again. ”Like this?”

”In a certain sense... yeah. Pretty close.”

”Don’t tell me it’s another cliché where humans touched some taboo they shouldn’t have touched and brought down the gods’ wrath.”

”Heh. If it really were that simple, that would be nice.”

”But...” It seemed the rest truly involved secrets that couldn’t be spoken, because Mela’s words stopped short.

She turned her head to gaze at the golden giant tree. On that small face—one that didn’t show the marks of time—there finally appeared a faint trace of weariness and depth that actually fit her age.

”Unfortunately... it isn’t,” Mela murmured, so softly it was almost impossible to hear.

After a stretch of silence, the light and shadow here began to blur. Muen looked up and saw that Celicia’s figure was no longer visible in the distance, either.

”Alright. The phantom’s about to disappear. I’m done talking with you, kid.” Mela clapped her hands, not giving Muen any chance to keep questioning. She cut the topic off herself and prepared to leave.

But before she left, she suddenly tossed Muen a disc-shaped object.

Still thinking about the meaning behind Mela’s words, Muen fumbled and caught it. He looked down at it and asked, confused, ”What ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ is this?”

On the bronze-colored disc, it looked like something was missing—there was an obvious indentation at the center. Even so, holding it in both hands, Muen could still feel its age and weight.

”This is the third core piece of the palace’s forbidden spell.”

”The forbidden spell core?” Muen froze, then immediately reacted. He pulled out a similarly plain, ancient-looking metal component from his spatial magic tool.

This was the object Muen had taken from that little girl. It was shaped like a crescent moon. Now, when he set it into the disc, it fit perfectly—so perfectly it was obvious it had been made to match that groove exactly. Unfortunately, it was only half.

”Everyone thinks the palace’s forbidden spell core only has two pieces. In reality, there are three,” Mela said casually. ”Gather all of them, and you can fully activate the palace forbidden spell’s power. It should help you.”

”This kind of thing...” Muen stared, dumbfounded. ”An important object used to protect the palace—why do you have it?”

”Heh.” Mela curled her lip in disdain. ”Who do you think designed that forbidden spell? Back then, that old emperor who hired me was cheap as hell. What’s wrong with me secretly leaving a back door for myself?”

”...” The corner of Muen’s eye twitched. ”That really is you.”

”Honestly, where do you think all the equipment I upgrade for you comes from? You spendthrift disciple—if you’ve never run a household, you don’t know how hard it is.” Mela shook her head with a sigh, then said, ”Alright, I’m leaving. You handle the rest yourselves.”

”Safe travels... wait!” Muen raised the disc in his hand and glared. ”You still haven’t told me what this is actually for! Suddenly handing me an item without telling me how to use it is like suddenly giving me a rusty broken sword and telling me to go challenge the Demon King. That’s stressful!”

”How to use it? Figure out that little thing yourself.” Mela waved impatiently. ”I’m not your mom. What, you want me to chew everything up and feed it to you, too?”

”...”

”But...” Before Muen could actually lose it and slap the disc onto Mela’s face, the bratty little gremlin suddenly struck a pose and tapped her lips. ”Since you are, after all, my beloved disciple, I’ll give you a hint.”

”A hint?” Muen’s eyes brightened. He thought, as expected of Teacher Mela—wise, mighty, adorable beyond words. Sure, her personality was a bit hard to praise, but I’ll never again call her an old—

”You want to experience ‘getting chopped into eight pieces’ again?”

”I’m very sorry. Please go ahead, Teacher Mela.”

”...The hint is actually very simple.” Mela lifted her head and looked at that towering, holy golden giant tree. ”Tell me—how would you completely destroy a tree that big?”

”Completely destroy a tree that big?” Muen thought. ”Cut the roots?”

”That’s one, but it’s not thorough enough.”

”Burn it?”

”Mm. That barely counts as two, I guess. But you can’t do that right now. Something watched by an Evil God personally isn’t on the same level as those million ownerless souls you burned before.”

”Then... I’ve got nothing.” Muen frowned.

He knew Teacher Mela was guiding him toward something, but those were the only methods he could think of.

After all, he was just a newly promoted fourth-tier warrior. Was he really supposed to walk right up and hack the Evil God’s true body in the face?

”The logic is simple. You’re just focusing too much on the tree itself. Understand this—its vitality doesn’t come only from its roots.”

”Doesn’t come... only from its roots?” Muen repeated, chewing on the words.

”That’s right.” Mela raised a hand, as if to block sunlight that didn’t exist here, yet was still far too dazzling. ”What’s outside also matters a great deal.”

...

...

The phantom from a thousand years ago vanished. Muen came back to himself and found he was still inside the palace.

Outside the window, flames rose into the sky, making the palace—once solemn and magnificent—seem even more eerie and silent.

”Outside...?” Muen turned his head and looked at the sky, where dawn still hadn’t arrived. It was lit only by the fires kindled amid the unrest, and by the brilliant light cast by that golden tree.

He lifted a hand, copying what Teacher Mela had just done, covering his vision with his palm as if he wanted to grasp that light in his hand.

Then all that remained was what he could see through the gaps between his fingers—

The deep, boundless night.

”So that’s how it is.” Realization spread over Muen’s face as he murmured, ”I think I know what I need to do.”

...

...

”So this is... the First King and the Holy Tree?”

Celicia also returned from the phantom to reality. Countless brilliant points of light enveloped her, flowing like tens of thousands of fireflies across a field.

”Was it you who showed me those scenes?”

Celicia touched the lights with incomparable gentleness.

When the King’s Sword’s laws and honored seat were severed, and Albert lost the qualification to be Emperor, the power drawn through that golden giant tree from the Empire... was no longer under his control.

And likewise, he could no longer draw it again.

This was what it meant to sever the roots.

Emperor Aldrich Leopold III, through a series of schemes and sacrifices, had finally managed to draw that Being’s attention away from himself—giving him the chance to completely cut away this blessing and curse that had clung to the imperial family for a thousand years since the First King.

”Do you understand what you’re doing now, Albert?”

The breeze lifted her skirt. Bathed in the countless lights, Celicia looked holy and solemn.

”Everything you’ve done was never ‘for the Empire.’ You’ve been pushing the Empire, step by step, into an abyss of destruction.”

”Wh... what...”

Albert froze, as if his entire understanding had been violently shattered. He clutched his head and let out a painful howl.

But very quickly, he looked up again, eyes bloodshot.

”Th-then what if the Holy Tree has fallen? So what! The King’s Sword... the King’s Sword was bestowed upon the First King before that happened. That means the First King’s vow is still in effect.”

”Stubborn fool!”

”Shut up!” He suddenly raised his voice and roared, ”Don’t you understand? The Empire’s order and glory are eternal. As Emperor, I am the Empire’s order—and within my soul, that glory will always exist! That’s why I’m the one most qualified to control this country!”

”And besides... besides!”

Kak. Kak.

The King’s Sword trembled again. But this time, the noble sheen and patterns on the blade began to peel away on their own, like a monster that had hidden for a thousand years finally tearing open its lofty, holy outer skin.

Thick darkness poured out with a stench of rot and pus-blood. Withered-branch-like tentacles extended from the hilt, writhing as they drilled into Albert’s body.

The King’s Sword opened a ferocious pupil and, together with Albert, howled and roared:

”And besides... do you think you know why the Empire has endured for a thousand years, why the Empire has only grown stronger, why the Leopold family’s position has been unshakable?”

”Do you think all of that came from Leopold’s wisdom?”

”No!”

”It was me, it was me, it was me!!!”

”Everything is because of me!!”

”Only I can guarantee the Empire endures forever. Only I can make the Empire stronger. And only I... can let you bloodlines—who were once just as much lowborn trash—let the name Leopold... rule the Empire forever!”