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

“An ancient relic?”

Dim light pierced the crystalline layers. After refraction, everything outside looked comically warped.

Muen tried to move his body, only to find that aside from the tiniest basic motions—blinking, speaking, and the like—he couldn’t manage any large-scale movement.

Right now, he was like an insect dropped into resin. Given enough time to settle, he’d become a delicate piece of amber.

“Compared to amber, I think you look more like a princess sealed inside a crystal.”

Chiheniro cradled that cube of crystal giving off a faint glow, wearing a gentle smile that didn’t look like it belonged to a ferocious demonfolk at all.

“How does it feel, my dear Princess Muen?”

“Do you know how badly I want to smash my fist into your nauseating ugly face right now?” Muen said expressionlessly.

“You can,” Chiheniro said. “If you want to smash it, you can do it anytime—so long as you can manage it.” He pressed one hand to his chest, inviting him like a gentleman.

“...”

Muen tried to move again.

This time it wasn’t a simple test.

He still couldn’t make any wide motions, but within that tiny range of movement, the muscle strength he’d hammered and tempered through endless training, under exquisitely precise control, completed its buildup in an instant—then detonated!

A thunderous rumble shook the dust, even briefly drowning out the continuous explosions beyond the wall.

Even if it were a layer of steel that completely wrapped him, it would still shatter under this inch-snapping force.

But...

It was useless.

Muen’s ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) thunderclap felt like it had slammed into empty air. The violent tremor had already caused spiderweb cracks to bloom across the ground beneath his feet, yet the crystal remained utterly unscathed.

And more importantly, the feedback that strike gave Muen felt like...

There wasn’t actually anything restricting his actions at all. Or rather, he wasn’t unable to move because of the crystal. The “crystal” on the outside was even just a phantom-like manifestation—a bit of bad taste from the creator a thousand years ago, nothing more.

But if there was nothing substantial restricting him...

Then how was he supposed to break free from this restraint?

“So this is an ancient relic? That’s impressive.”

Muen couldn’t help sighing.

This thing called the Heart of True Love gave him a sense of eerie wrongness that was basically no different from Celicia’s “Resentment of Singleness.” Neither of them was built by finely processing mana into some special spell. Instead, to some extent, it was control over rules within a certain range.

It was, undeniably, a product of magic, yet its operating principle completely ran contrary to the existing magical system.

Maybe ordinary magic could also achieve this kind of effect, but the foundation underneath the two was fundamentally different.

Like two completely different paths—maybe they crossed halfway up, but one led to the mountain’s summit, while the other...

Might just be a dead end that couldn’t go any farther.

“Yes. This is what people call an ancient relic—a remnant left behind by that radiant era. Even though it’s already a thousand-year-old antique, it’s not something any mage of this age can reproduce.”

Chiheniro stroked the crystal in his hands.

“And you, mere humans whose civilization has almost completely severed from even that era, surely can’t understand its subtleties... Look. This is the true end of magitech. What humans pursue now—pure research and application of mana—is all wrong. It’s nothing more than the way primitives keep strengthening their bows and spears. Stupid beyond belief.”

“The end of magitech...”

Muen’s gaze sharpened. This was already the second time he’d heard that kind of wording.

“What does that phrase actually mean? You demonfolk—do you also know something, same as that old loli?”

“Know something? Who knows?”

Chiheniro snorted and shook his head, as if pitying humanity’s ignorance.

“Of course, I don’t blame you. Humans are just that kind of miserable creature—fragile and shortsighted. You’ll die to your own stupidity sooner or later, just like a thousand years ago.”

“Humans? I remember that you so-called demonfolk used to be humans too. And you keep saying humans are miserable, saying our path is wrong—makes it sound like you demonfolk have a smooth highway. But if your road is so wide open, why are you still blocked inside this Abyss?”

Muen blinked, speaking with earnest sincerity.

“Could it be because you like it here? If you like it, why not just stay here forever? Everyone stop killing each other—maybe we can even become good friends...”

“Shut up!”

Chiheniro suddenly flew into a rage, the crimson light in his eyes flaring. “If we had magical talent like yours, long ago we would’ve—”

“Would’ve?”

“...You really do know how to talk, Muen Campbell.” Realizing Muen was fishing for information, Chiheniro recovered quickly.

“Sure. To the extent that even an Evil God would get high blood pressure.”

“...A sharp tongue won’t save you, my dear Muen. You’re going to die soon.”

“Is that so? I think it looks like you can’t kill me that easily.”

Muen stared into Chiheniro’s eyes, then suddenly smiled.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be wasting so much breath talking nonsense to me.”

“...Yes.”

Unexpectedly, Chiheniro nodded, admitting it frankly.

“I can’t kill you. I used this thing to lock you up, but I also have no way to attack you.”

“Restrictions from the ancient relic?”

“Not restrictions. Conditions.”

Chiheniro suddenly took out another object—a winged maiden statue carved with pure white wings.

Left hand holding the cubic crystal, right hand holding the maiden statue weeping with tender devotion, Chiheniro stared at Muen with an ever more fanatical gaze.

“Because... I really do love you right now. Only when sincere love is rejected can it activate.”

“...”

Muen shuddered.

A horrible chill ravaged his nerves again. After going around in circles for so long, the thing in front of him was still a genuine dead male homosexual.

But while he cursed that dead male homosexual in his heart countless times, Muen also keenly sensed a strange familiarity.

“Just in case, I’ll ask.”

Muen looked at the statue in Chiheniro’s hand. “You aren’t a follower of the Love God, are you?”

“Heh. A follower is too much. I just temporarily prayed to that deity for a share of love, that’s all. After all, that Love God is only so generous at times like this.”

“...”

Muen completely couldn’t hold it in anymore.

So it really is you again, Love God!

Damn it—how does an Evil God like you keep seducing dead male homosexuals into becoming your followers? Don’t you feel disgusted having followers like that?

Oh, right. You Love God are the most disgusting one yourself. Then never mind.

“So? How are you planning to kill me? Don’t tell me a demon general like you went to all this trouble—being the Love God’s dog and pulling out this thing—just to chat with me.”

Muen sneered.

“Yes. I can’t kill you. In fact, it’s exactly because I can’t be sure I can kill you in a short time that I used this method.”

Chiheniro wore a sorrowful expression.

As if he really was about to witness the death of the one he loved.

“But did you forget? Inside this fortress, it isn’t all... your people.”

“You mean... an insider?”

Muen’s pupils contracted sharply. Almost in that instant, the premonition of death in his mind began to buzz madly.

Muen reacted at once, his peripheral vision cutting back.

At the far end of his sight, he saw Funal rushing over with people. As if he felt the current manpower couldn’t support this place, under his command a newest-model magitech cannon was actually being pushed out.

The muzzle of the magitech device gleamed with cold light—a terrifying killing weapon that could turn even those huge one-eyed demonmen into ash in an instant.

“That’s right. An insider. This Heart of True Love will trap you, but it won’t block external influence. In other words... other people’s attacks against you will work.”

Chiheniro lowered his voice.

“Relax. Even if I can’t kill you directly, as long as I wait until you’re badly wounded, I can release the Heart of True Love’s restraint and easily finish you off. By then, even if the Lion King himself arrives, it’ll be too late to save you.”

“Sounds like I’m as good as dead.”

“Please don’t say something so sad so bluntly.”

Chiheniro wiped the corner of his eye.

“But unfortunately, yes. My dear Muen Campbell, you’re already dead. The moment you were one step too late, failing to find the true insider, you were already dead.”

“Is that so?”

Looking at Chiheniro in front of him—both pained and excited, struggling like the protagonist in a story forced to sacrifice the one he loved for the greater good—Muen felt no stirring of emotion at all. He only felt more disgust.

But then the corner of his mouth lifted.

“How do you know I didn’t find that insider, and prepare a response ahead of time?”

“What?”

Chiheniro abruptly turned to look—only to see Funal, as if receiving some kind of message, wearing a complicated expression as he withdrew the magitech cannon. He even had to make his personal guards loyal to him fall back as well.

Within a hundred meters, it seemed there was no longer anyone who could threaten Muen.

“As expected of that Lion King’s son—so cautious.” Chiheniro sighed. “You don’t seem as stupid as the rumors say... But how can you be sure you’re truly safe?”

“You mean you still have a trump card?”

Muen’s expression was playful as he sneered.

“Save it. How long are you going to keep up this crude acting and misdirection?”

...

...

“Sigh. At times like this, do I still have to trouble these old bones?”

Old Robert rubbed his lower back as he laboriously set a long black box down on the ground.

He was already very old. When he was young, he could cut down five demonmen in a row on the battlefield, but now, just lifting something a little heavy was enough to exhaust him.

But fortunately, this aged and frail body could still move—for now.

“Here... this should be about right.”

Old Robert swept his gaze around. He had been in the army for decades, and half of that time had been spent in this fortress. As for the terrain and layout here, he could remember it with his eyes closed—many places he even knew better than that Lion King.

So he quickly found a suitable spot.

After confirming the position, Old Robert opened the box in front of him.

The box was extremely ordinary. You could see it anywhere. He often set this box by his feet, yet no one ever paid attention.

But inside this long box were stored all kinds of precise magitech parts.

Old Robert’s fingers brushed over those parts.

“It took so long, but my accounts really do have no problems. Still, among so much military supply, quietly gathering these without leaving any trace wasn’t that hard.”

After muttering to himself, Old Robert’s hands moved.

Like a familiar whistle sounded by his ear, his ten fingers were unbelievably nimble. Almost by instinct, he assembled the parts one by one.

Even that mechanical hand didn’t slow him down at all. It was as if he’d returned to decades ago, surrounded by comrades like himself, tempering their bodies in harsh training.

But now, those people were gone.

And yet he could still assemble all these parts within thirty seconds, as if he still practiced this every single day.

Very soon, all the parts were put together, and a pitch-black, ferocious weapon appeared in his hands.

“Imperial standard-issue single-soldier small magitech cannon, experimental model—something those lunatics at the Royal Research Institute, who don’t care whether soldiers live or die, created when they tried to miniaturize a magitech cannon.”

Old Robert carefully stroked the thing in his hands that, rather than a cannon, was closer to a gun, murmuring with obsession.

“Unfortunately, it failed. A miniaturized structure simply can’t bear the high temperature when manais triggered, so it can only fire once. After one shot, it’s scrapped.”

“But one shot is enough.”

Old Robert smoothly shouldered the small magitech cannon, quickly aiming through the scope above.

“A lens polished from the bottom of a liquor bottle... the precision really isn’t enough...”

He sighed, lining up the higher demonman Chiheniro in the scope.

...but after hesitating only an instant, he suddenly shifted the muzzle slightly, aiming at Muen, who was completely unaware of all this.

“Sorry, Young Master Muen. Who told you you already started suspecting me?”

Old Robert slowly squeezed the trigger.

“What a pity. You were only one step away from the truth...”

“Mister Muen wasn’t one step away from the truth.”

Suddenly.

A bone-chilling coldness touched Old Robert’s neck.

At the same time, a foot came down, crushing the cannon’s muzzle hard into the mud, making that long period of lurking as worthless as this dirt.

Old Robert jerked his head up in panic—only to find that at some unknown moment, Ebul had already brought his squad, completely surrounding him.

A blade was already at his vital point.

“Y-you...?”

“Surprised? Traitor Robert.”

Ebul kicked again, forcing Old Robert fully to his knees, sneering coldly.

“Mister Muen had already confirmed the insider was you long ago. Stop dreaming about using a sneak attack like this.”

“Is... is that so?”

Old Robert still couldn’t quite believe it. His face was pale as he murmured.

“W-why...?”

...

...

“In this game of cat and mouse, there are three things you didn’t think of.”

“First, I happened to intercept that batch of magitech materials, and discovered the rat hidden in the fortress.”

“Second, I have a special tracking method that let me confirm those materials had once been stored in the armory, which drastically narrowed the range of suspects.”

“Third... I’m more cautious and decisive than you imagined. The moment I realized this might be aimed at me, even though I didn’t know your method yet, just in case, I already had someone put the insider under surveillance.”

Muen looked at Chiheniro with a half-smile. Even though he couldn’t move around, it didn’t stop him from making a mocking expression that could make someone’s blood pressure spike.

“Looks like dear Demon General Chiheniro went so far for his goal that you even forced yourself to bend... and it still didn’t do much, did it?”

“...Why wasn’t it Funal?”

Chiheniro could no longer maintain that scorching love. His face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.

“By common sense, he’s the one who should’ve been suspected most.”

“About that... trying to explain to you demonfolk—who think you’re not even human anymore—what trust is, how my father trusts Funal, and how I trust my father, doesn’t seem easy.”

“So I’ll give you a simpler line of reasoning you can understand.”

Muen looked at him like he was a complete idiot.

“Use your smart little brain. Mister Funal is the number-two in this fortress, in charge of logistics and troop deployment, trusted by everyone, with his own personal guards, and he even guarded this fortress alone before. If he really were your demonfolk insider... would there be any point in me coming here to defend this fortress? This Doronslei Fortress wouldn’t need to be attacked at all—it would’ve been opened to you long ago. And by the way, don’t you find it hilarious that an undercover agent could become the number-two?”

“Got it now? So when I realized those magitech materials had once been stored in the armory, I already confirmed Old Robert was the insider. As for why I didn’t arrest him directly, and instead deliberately had people pretend to secretly copy his account book as an act...”

Muen tilted his head slightly and showed a handsome smile that could charm men or women alike.

“What do you think, Mister Demon General Chiheniro—so very much of a freebie in every sense?”