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

Saint Maria Academy, the exchange match arena.

There were still two hours before the final match began, but the entire arena was already packed to the brim. Perhaps because yesterday’s match had raised everyone’s expectations too high, the enthusiastic spectators were already craning their necks and waiting, hoping that the legendary Seventeenth Prince—kept hidden by the Kingdom for over a decade, gifted with astounding talent—would deliver a peak showdown no less spectacular than yesterday’s.

And the Seventeenth Prince they were waiting for was currently in the lounge as well, staring blankly out the window at the scene, not knowing what he was thinking.

“Cousin.”

Milne came back from his thoughts and realized the visitor was Sevier. He immediately reined in his expression.

“So it’s Cousin Sevier. Do you need something?”

“I just got word. Your opponent in the finals this time isn’t Ariel Bugaard. It’s Muen Campbell,” Sevier said.

“Muen Campbell...”

Milne froze. “Why?”

“According to the academy, Ariel Bugaard left because of personal matters and can’t participate in this match, so she announced she’s forfeiting. That’s why the finals slot has been passed down to Muen Campbell.”

“Forfeiting? Then shouldn’t it count as my win directly?” Milne frowned.

What was this—she ran before they even fought? Did Ariel get scared by him?

“Normally, yes. But the academy’s stated reason is that before Ariel Bugaard even participated in yesterday’s match, she already had the intention of forfeiting. She only kept competing because she wanted to fight Muen Campbell once. So her forfeit doesn’t mean the academy is giving up the finals slot—it just means Muen Campbell moves up in her place.”

“Heh. They just don’t want to lose face.” Milne sneered.

“From the looks of it, yes. But this is the Empire’s home field. They have the final say. As long as the logic holds, we can’t really do anything about it.”

“...Is that so? In the end, my final opponent... is still Muen Campbell?”

Milne looked wistful, sinking back into thought.

Not long ago, he’d wanted nothing more than to fight Muen Campbell. To meet that duke’s son—the empress’s fiancé—in the finals, then crush him completely in front of everyone, including that imperial empress, and declare his own value... That was the best script he’d drafted before he ever set foot in this country.

The first step on his path upward.

But now...

Even though he was only one step away from completing that best script, after watching last night’s match, he suddenly had an extremely complicated feeling—and a faint, deep unease that he couldn’t erase no matter what.

“Th-That’s... that’s great.” Sevier saw what Milne was thinking and couldn’t help trying to comfort him. “Big Brother only needs to deal with Muen. The stronger Ariel forfeited on her own. It’s really... really lucky...”

“Are you mocking me?”

Milne snapped his head up. The calm from a moment ago vanished instantly. Like an enraged beast, he glared at Sevier with reddened eyes.

“You think I can’t beat Ariel Bugaard?”

“N-No, I didn’t—”

“You did!”

Milne roared. “The one who ran without fighting is Ariel Bugaard, not me! Even if she fought me, I’m confident I would win. I am! Let alone some mere Muen Campbell?”

“Y-Yes...”

Sevier stumbled back a few steps, frightened, and lowered her head.

“Cousin Milne is the strongest.”

“Ha... yes, I’m the strongest...”

Milne panted, murmuring as if he had to convince himself.

“That’s right. I’m the strongest. Whether it’s Muen Campbell or Ariel Bugaard, they’re nothing but stepping-stones for me... How could I be afraid of them?”

“Your Highness is, of course, the strongest.”

“Ah, Teacher.”

Sevier turned her head and realized Hertz had appeared at some point. He was looking at Milne with a kindly expression.

“Because His Highness is my most proud student.”

“Teacher...”

“You go out first, Sevier.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

Sevier let out a breath like she’d been pardoned and hurried out of the lounge, closing the door behind her.

Hertz glanced at it, then casually waved a hand. A barrier was laid over the door to prevent anyone from eavesdropping.

“How do you feel, Your Highness? After resting all night, is your condition good?”

“I... I’m fine.”

Milne looked at his own hands, then suddenly gave a self-mocking smile.

“From the start of the competition until now, I haven’t fought a single match seriously. How could my condition be bad?”

“That’s a good thing.”

Hertz walked to the window and clasped his hands behind his back, looking at the passionate crowd. Even though they knew the one going on stage was Muen Campbell, they still weren’t disappointed—they were still shouting the name Campbell at the top of their lungs.

“Your next opponent is Muen Campbell. But Muen Campbell suffered serious injuries in yesterday’s match. I watched carefully—Ariel Bugaard’s sword isn’t an ordinary weapon. No matter how strong Muen Campbell’s recovery is, taking several slashes from that sword won’t feel good. Even if the academy treated him intensively afterward, as long as they didn’t invite a major figure from the Church of Life to personally heal him, then there’s no way he can return to full condition. This is your chance.”

“Teacher also thinks I can’t beat Muen Campbell?” Milne’s fist clenched tight.

If he was being told his enemy’s injury was his “chance,” wasn’t that implying he was actually inferior to Muen Campbell?

“No. I believe in you. I believe in you more than anyone. But for us right now, victory is what matters most. If we can add even one more sliver of winning odds, then naturally, that’s better.”

Hertz patted Milne’s shoulder and comforted him kindly.

“I watched Your Highness grow up. I know what you’re thinking. Muen Campbell has hidden his strength, so it’s normal for you to feel uneasy. But I still believe that the final victor will be you, Your Highness.”

“Teacher...”

Milne’s eyes reddened slightly. Yes—no matter what, Teacher would always believe in him, just like he had for so many years. He had stood beside the prince ranked seventeenth in the royal family without complaint.

“However, we also don’t know whether Muen Campbell will use some despicable methods again. It’s better to prepare more thoroughly,” Hertz suddenly shifted the topic.

“Prepare... more thoroughly?”

Milne sensed something unusual in the deeper meaning of Hertz’s words.

“That’s right. Since Muen Campbell used despicable methods before, we can’t play the honest man either. Otherwise we’ll suffer too much. Your Highness should understand how much this finals victory matters—to you, to me, and to the entire Kingdom. So just in case...”

Hertz swept a wary glance around again. After confirming no one was peeking, he took an exquisite wooden box out of his robes.

He opened it, and inside was a crimson pill.

The moment it was revealed, a rich fragrance filled the entire lounge. With just one breath, Milne felt his spirits lift a great deal.

“This is...” Milne looked shocked. He could feel dense medicinal power packed inside the pill.

“A potion made by the master alchemist, Lord Teflorel. Within half an hour, it can directly raise your strength by thirty percent. With the potion’s boost, dealing with Muen Campbell should be more secure.”

“A potion... Can something like this really increase my odds?” Milne frowned. He still felt some resistance to the idea of taking a drug before a match.

“It’s not odds. It’s a guaranteed win!” Hertz declared firmly, clearly extremely confident in the potion.

“Is that so...”

Milne took a deep breath.

That’s true. If he ate a potion that increased his strength by thirty percent and still wasn’t a match for an injured Muen Campbell, then Milne might as well find a piece of black bread and smash his head to death on the spot!

That’s right. This potion symbolized a guaranteed victory.

“...”

Milne stared at the red pill in the box, struggle surfacing in his eyes.

Yesterday, he had mocked and looked down on Muen Campbell to the extreme. In his eyes, Muen Campbell was a playboy, a debauched wastrel obsessed with women, an unworthy fraud... To cross swords with him would insult Milne’s status.

But only one day later, he was now considering whether to rely on the cheating power of a potion to deal with that “playboy”... What a laughable reversal.

It was like a dancer who gave everything on stage, shining brilliantly—yet at the very moment the curtain was about to fall...

He still accidentally revealed his clown mask.

But...

Thinking carefully, as Teacher said, Muen Campbell had also used cheating methods.

Milne’s mind turned.

Under Muen Campbell’s deliberate direction, he’d been able to get two byes, facing his semifinal enemy in the best condition possible... If the one he had faced in the semifinals was actually Muen himself, the consequences of that despicable method would be unimaginable.

That’s right. Muen Campbell was ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) that kind of despicable person. So even if he used a potion, it wasn’t his fault. He was only doing it to make this match more “fair.”

He wasn’t wrong!

Muen Campbell, you started it first!

Milne gritted his teeth. In the end, he accepted the red potion and said firmly,

“I understand, Teacher. I’ll take the potion. I’ll bring you, me, and the Kingdom... the final victory!”

“I believe in you.”

Hertz stroked his beard in satisfaction and smiled.

“Because you are my most proud student, Prince Milne. I’ll wait here for your victorious return.”

...

...

“In the end, it still falls to me to clean up this mess.”

On the arena platform, Muen looked at Milne slowly approaching and let out a helpless long sigh.

After being squeezed dry in turn by those three last night, his kidneys were still weak as hell, yet he had to immediately fight a genius youth like Milne... At this moment, Muen wasn’t just weak in the kidneys—his heart was a little weak too.

Luckily, adorable Liya was relatively considerate. Last night, she’d poured some extra holy light into him. Otherwise, standing here now, he probably would’ve had his legs go soft before the fight even started.

Liya really was better. The other two played and then didn’t care at all—scumbag women!

“Kingdom of Saint Perod, Milne Rodest.”

“Leopold Empire, Saint Maria Academy, Muen Campbell.”

It was still the familiar exchange of names and greetings, but this simple procedure alone was enough to completely ignite the crowd’s emotions.

“Looks like everyone is really looking forward to this match.”

Muen raised a hand and waved toward the stands where the familiar three little ones were shouting their hearts out. Then he elegantly gave Milne a standard noble bow.

“Good morning, Prince Milne. This counts as our first proper greeting, right?”

“Pretty funny, isn’t it.”

“What?”

Muen froze, not understanding what Milne meant by such a random remark.

But Milne only continued to sneer at him, viciously.

“The first time we met, you were laughing at me, weren’t you?”

“Hm?”

Muen’s brows knitted. He tilted his head, not understanding what kind of episode this prince was having again.

The first time... wasn’t it just yesterday morning?

Back then, he didn’t even know who this guy was. How had he laughed at him?

...Well, he had silently thought the guy’s brain must be damaged.

“I don’t know what Prince Milne is talking about. But at a time like this, too much talking is useless besides wasting time, isn’t it?”

Muen didn’t feel like communicating with a prince whose brain had a hole in it. He casually drew Elizabeth.

“In that case, let’s do it, Your Highness.”

“Fine!”

Milne’s lips tugged into a slightly twisted smile as he looked at the referee.

“I want to designate the terrain too—plains!”

“This...”

The referee glanced at Muen. Seeing that Muen didn’t object, he nodded.

“Alright then. Myriad Simulation—plains!”

A roar sounded again. The radiance of the Myriad enveloped the entire platform. In the blink of an eye, an endless plain appeared once more beneath Muen’s feet.

Milne locked his gaze on Muen, his body slightly crouched as he gripped the longsword at his waist.

This time, he had not the slightest carelessness, not the slightest slackness.

Before, because of Muen Campbell’s despicable behavior, he’d been successfully deceived and made that laughable reaction. But he would never make the same mistake a second time!

No one became a clown twice!

The potion he’d swallowed early had already been fully absorbed. Vast medicinal power flowed through his limbs and bones with a faint burning pain. Milne could clearly feel his battle qi and magic power had both grown by leaps and bounds.

But he still didn’t swell with arrogance because of it, and he wasn’t blinded by power. He remained clear-headed. In his eyes, there was only Muen Campbell.

Clang—

The longsword left its sheath.

The dazzling cold gleam surpassed any performance he’d ever had before!

“So it’s coming?” Muen’s expression also turned solemn as he sensed the threat.

He had to admit—Milne was not a weak opponent. The talent brought by his innate dual hearts made his strength far surpass every “ordinary person” Muen had faced so far.

So he had to take it seriously.

Magic surged. His heartbeat thundered. The alchemical core behind Muen burned like a furnace.

He had no fear either. Facing that cold gleam rushing toward him, he swung his blade—

Slash!!

Pff.

The next instant.

The sound of a blade piercing flesh was so clear, so horrifying.

“Huh?”

Muen’s eyes widened in shock. He watched blood spray, watched flesh tear, watched...

Milne slowly collapse.

“That weak?”

He’d seriously wounded Milne with a single strike. Had last night’s squeezing by those three somehow pushed his strength to another level?

...No, wait!

He didn’t have some kind of dual-cultivation technique like in those cultivation novels from his past life!

Muen sensed something wrong and threw his gaze at Milne’s face.

Milne was shocked too.

He didn’t even bother with the wound ripping across his chest. Instead, he stared in disbelief—no, in terror—at his trembling hands that couldn’t even hold the sword.

The heat circulating through his meridians had now turned into a piercing, bone-boring agony.

That terrifying medicinal power was gnawing at his organs like countless starving little worms.

This was...

Poison?

“Wh-Why...?”

Milne staggered and sank down, his face deathly pale, murmuring blankly.

“Teacher... why would you do this?”