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

“Is this sole personality also false?” the priest asked seriously.

An autumn wind swept through, carrying away the leaf in the priest’s hand and scattering it into the distant city.

Just like that old question about Saint Blancfazesiya, false and real, existence and nonexistence... Muen was momentarily stunned by the question.

But very quickly, he arrived at an answer.

“No. By that logic, she’s real.”

In truth, even the Witch of Repentance’s “Olive” personality had, in a sense, been real.

But for something as difficult to define as “personality,” the boundary between real and false had always been subjective and relative.

When the Witch named Repentance regained her freedom, then the “Olive” who had once bound her could only become false.

But for Fubeka—

She possessed only a single personality.

The sole, unchanged, and not corresponding to any other existence... real personality.

Whether for herself or for everyone who came into contact with her, that reality unquestionably existed and absolutely could not be overturned.

“Without a doubt, the current Fubeka is a genuinely existing person. Her self is real, and so is her humanity,” Muen said firmly. “At least... until the moment she falls under the Evil God’s control.”

“So you really think so too.”

The priest smiled... carrying a certain sense of “I didn’t misjudge you.”

“In fact, Ision also came to see me and said something very similar. To him, Fubeka is his only daughter, so even if she’s the most sinful existence in the world, he still can’t abandon her.”

“So placing Fubeka under house arrest here was Archbishop Ision’s arrangement?” Muen asked.

“No.”

The priest answered, “Archbishop Ision was already under suspicion and punishment because of what happened before. If he had spoken up himself, Fubeka would instead have fallen into a worse situation. So this time... I was the one who volunteered.”

“You volunteered?”

Muen was slightly stunned.

Honestly, neither Fubeka’s “business talent” earlier nor her actual circumstances shocked Muen as much as that sentence did.

That dispirited, self-destructive Limping Priest who only hid in a graveyard drinking and mutilating himself... had actually taken the initiative to shoulder something like this?

“Don’t tell me you stopped liking little boys and switched to little girls instead!”

Muen immediately grew vigilant. “I’m telling you, that’s a crime too!”

“How many times do I have to say it? I never liked little boys, and I don’t like little girls either!” the priest snapped.

“So you like mature older [N O V E L I G H T] women?”

Muen patted the priest on the shoulder. “Oh, that’s fine. I like them too. By the way, do you prefer black stockings or white stockings? I’m definitely black-stockings myself. White stockings are way too heretical for the mature-older-sister attribute...”

“......”

You bastard, what exactly are you discussing in front of a devout follower of the Goddess?!

Forcefully suppressing the urge to strangle this damned blond to death, the priest took a deep breath and said:

“After all that, the reason I made this choice is actually very simple.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“I want to completely make up for the mistake I committed decades ago,” the priest said.

Decades ago, the Church’s finest executioner had softened for reasons even he himself did not understand and released the Witch of Repentance.

And afterward, countless innocent lives had been buried by that witch’s hands.

And now, it was almost the exact same situation again.

This “sinner” finally had another chance to watch over an “Evil God’s scion.”

“No, that’s not right. Strictly speaking, no matter what I do, I can never make up for that mistake. So what I really want is simply to prove something.”

The priest lowered his head and looked at his hands, his expression suddenly firm.

“This time, I will definitely keep watch over her.”

“......”

Muen studied the priest’s eyes. The former executioner seemed as though he had been reborn in flame, except this time, he would execute no one.

Then he looked into the distance at Fubeka, still fumbling around making tea, and finally swept his gaze across the graveyard itself, now full of vitality and energy...

A great many things suddenly became understandable.

“So although she can’t be killed, the reason the Church didn’t throw her directly into a dungeon is because you guaranteed it to them?”

“That’s right.”

“What did you use as collateral?”

“If I fail, then my soul will never return to the Goddess’s embrace and will suffer torment for eternity.”

“...For a devout believer like you, who probably wants to sleep hugging scripture every night, that’s one hell of an oath.”

Only now did Muen realize that the priest was not carrying that heavy holy scripture of his.

So that had been the “proof” he had mortgaged to the Church?

How much resolve did a devout believer need to swear a curse that his soul would never rest and never return to the Goddess’s embrace?

At the very least... ten times greater than the resolve required to slash his own chest open every day.

Muen suddenly smiled.

“That’s a good thing too.”

“Hm?”

The priest looked up in surprise. He had thought this guy, whose mouth could annoy even Evil Gods, would never miss such a perfect opportunity to mock him.

But Muen merely changed from patting his shoulder to lightly pounding it instead, his tone full of the warmth and sentimentality of an old father.

“Having someone with you is better than rotting away alone, right? People always have to move forward. The way things are now might honestly be the best possible outcome for both you and Fubeka.”

“Is that so?”

Too lazy to argue over this obvious attempt at taking advantage, the priest also smiled gently.

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deep, like the bark of an old tree, yet in all these decades, that face perhaps had never looked so relaxed.

“Though... I actually think the direction you need to keep an eye on isn’t whether she’ll run away, but something else.”

Muen grinned, wiggling his brows. “Just look around. At this rate, she might sell off this entire graveyard in the end, leaving you, the gravekeeper, without even a place to stay.”

“......”

The priest’s smile instantly froze.

If the task was preventing Fubeka from escaping or from falling back into the Evil God’s grasp, then at this moment he had a hundred percent confidence.

But making sure this graveyard did not get sold off at a loss in the end...

The priest glanced at the banners and twitched violently.

“I’ll try... I’ll try!”

...

“Oh right. Speaking of which, why did the Witch of Repentance tell you all this?” Near the end of the conversation, Muen suddenly remembered something and asked.

“I’m not sure either. She had just fought Ision at the time and was heavily injured. Looking back now, she really did talk a lot in that state.”

The priest frowned.

“Perhaps... before the Salvation Society achieved its objective, they still didn’t want this clearly existing Evil God’s scion to die.”

“Is that so...”

Muen thought carefully. Some vague hypothesis flickered faintly through his mind, but he ultimately could not make sense of it.

So in the end, he merely chuckled.

“Maybe the world’s malice toward girls hasn’t become so cruel that it leaves absolutely no hope after all.”

...

...

“Tea’s here!”

Muen and the priest chatted all the way back to the little wooden hut, and Fubeka had finally finished brewing the tea and brought it before them.

The moment the teacups touched the table, Muen immediately began inspecting them carefully.

“Cup, normal...”

“Tea leaves, added...”

“Tea color, normal...”

Muen inspected the tea from front to back, left to right for a very long time before finally concluding:

“This really is an ordinary cup of tea.”

“Go ahead and drink. This time I watched her add the tea leaves myself. Nothing will go wrong.”

As he spoke, the priest leisurely took a sip.

After having his alcohol confiscated, he had finally been forced to learn how to appreciate tea...

“Pffft—!”

But the instant the tea entered his mouth, he sprayed it straight out. Fortunately, Muen reacted quickly enough to tilt his head aside and dodge it.

The priest, however, had no time to care about that and stared at Fubeka in horror.

“This tea... where did you get the water for it?”

“Oh, that...”

Fubeka pointed toward the corner of the room.

“I was busy decorating the graveyard today and didn’t have time to fetch water from the well... so I used the water from that jug.”

“Jug?”

The priest slowly turned his head stiffly. Sure enough, beside a cluttered cabinet in the corner sat an empty jug casually tossed aside.

The jug looked ordinary enough, but the moment the priest’s eyes landed on it, Muen actually saw an expression of utter horror appear on the priest’s face, as though he had just fallen from a great height into an abyss.

“Nooo—!”

The priest lunged over and cried tragically:

“My treasured old wine!!! I couldn’t even bear to drink it normally, and you used all of it at once to boil tea? You didn’t even leave me a single drop?!”

Hm?

Wine?

“...Holy shit, it really is wine.”

Muen cautiously took a sip of the “tea” as well, his expression strange.

Although the tea aroma was very strong, and most of the alcohol had evaporated during boiling, one could still faintly taste the mellow richness of fine liquor.

He usually only drank cheap rotgut... yet such good alcohol had all been boiled away at once. That was probably quite a blow to the priest.

“Eh? That was alcohol?”

Fubeka blinked, looking completely confused.

“But... there wasn’t any alcohol smell at all. No matter how clumsy I am, I wouldn’t mistake wine for water, right?”

“Yeah, that really shouldn’t happen.”

Muen was equally puzzled and instinctively frowned.

Fubeka was merely missing a few screws. She was adorably dumb, not actually mentally disabled.

Once it had been brewed into tea and masked by the tea leaves, that was one thing. But while it was still in the jug, how could she possibly not tell the difference?

“...That’s because I used magic to seal away the smell of the alcohol so she wouldn’t notice it. It looked exactly like ordinary water.”

The priest stared blankly and slapped a hand over his face.

“I... I... I’m such a fucking idiot! I only thought about hiding it from her. How did I not think of this possibility?!”

“......”

“......”

Muen’s expression turned sympathetic.

It seemed the priest would still need a very long time to adapt to living together with Fubeka.

Hopefully his blood pressure could survive it.

...

...

“So where are you heading next?”

“Wandering around.”

“Wandering?”

The priest raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t suit you.”

“Why not?” Muen asked blankly.

“Because you have the face of a master time-manager. How do you even have time to wander around?” said the priest, still dead-eyed from the trauma of losing his wine.

“......”

Muen’s cheek twitched. Since when did his face have such rich layers that people could supposedly read all this nonsense from it?

What the hell.

“In any case, be careful. Don’t think the city is temporarily safe just because the Salvation Society incident is over.”

“Oh? Internal information?”

“Not exactly. But according to the Judgment Archbishop, several rats have appeared in this city at some unknown point, hiding in the shadows. Be careful.”

“Rats...”

Muen rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“If they’re only ordinary rats, then I don’t really have any reason to fear them. Maybe I can even lure the snake out of its hole.”

“Heh. So arrogant. Sooner or later you’re going to stumble hard.”

The priest sneered.

“Stumble?”

Muen sneered back.

“At this point, as long as a Crowned one doesn’t appear, who in this city could possibly make me stum—”

...

“Young Master.”

Muen, who had just stepped out of the graveyard, suddenly staggered for no reason. Without his powerful control over his own body, he might have fallen flat on his face.

But even though he did not actually fall, a warm embrace still perfectly “caught” him.

“Young Master, how could you be so careless?”

The girl gently held Muen, her voice soft and tender.

At the same time, her slender jade-like fingers stroked lightly across his neck. The fleeting touch felt like some sort of sharp object...

Cold and icy, chilling straight to the soul.