136 - How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

Title: Chapter 136 - Are You So Sure I'm a Fake? "Can we still get out of here?" After eating half a piece of bread, the girl finally spoke. Her tone now held a hint of confusion and fatigue, unlike her usual commanding and unquestionable demeanor. "We definitely can." The young man confidently answered the girl beside him. Unlike her usual composed and confident self, always the stronghold wherever she was, her tone now revealed an uncertainty and helplessness that she never dared show to anyone else. Since being declared the future queen of the Carmela Kingdom, Mirexia had always been conscious of her public image. She constantly reminded herself that everyone across the kingdom and even in the human world was watching her. She couldn't show any weaknesses or incompetency; otherwise, people would believe that Carmela's future queen was a mere figurehead, giving them a chance to exploit and even covet the kingdom. Whether it was domestic nobles or foreign monarchs, once she exposed her weaknesses, they would seize the opportunity to bite the kingdom's neck and lifeline to gain more for themselves. Under this immense pressure, Mirexia was always cautious, never daring to make mistakes. She knew any small error she made would be magnified and misinterpreted. Due to her meticulous nature and relentless efforts, Mirexia achieved great success. The kingdom's citizens praised her, and even foreign nobles and monarchs spoke highly of her. But how much had she sacrificed for this? People only saw the glamorous and perfect princess who handled everything flawlessly but never noticed the countless days and nights she spent learning and dealing with state affairs to fulfill her responsibilities as a future queen. She had to continue her training and education and sometimes cried softly at night due to the immense pressure. To outsiders, she appeared confident and unflappable—a flawless princess. But only she knew how insecure she felt. Her serious and responsible nature meant she was always apprehensive when handling state affairs and issuing decrees, fearing that her decisions might inadvertently affect even just a single kingdom citizen, no matter how trivial the decision seemed. The prolonged mental strain often left Mirexia feeling anxious and fearful. It was evident that her mental and emotional state was nearing collapse. Yet, she masked it well, never revealing it to anyone—not even her father. To the outside world, she remained the elegant and composed princess. Everyone had expectations for her, giving her pressure that further worsened her mental state. People praised her character and abilities, calling her the brightest jewel in Carmela's crown. Yet, no one ever asked if she was tired and needed a break. In their eyes, Mirexia was an unparalleled genius, the perfect princess. How could someone like her feel exhausted or doubt her decisions? As long as they followed her, everything would be fine. The princess was reliable and capable, so let her make the decisions. Their thinking wasn't entirely wrong, after all, Mirexia's public image was that of a wise, brilliant potential queen. This would deter those who coveted Carmela from making any brazen attempts. But no matter how one might appear, people are still human after all. How could she not be exhausted? Mirexia had broken under such high pressure before, but the sense of "responsibility" always pushed her to continue unwaveringly. While young nobles enjoyed their treats and tea under their plush circumstances, she was working overtime. When other nobles indulged in romance, she was working. While they formed alliances and sang of youth, she was still working. It seemed as if she never rested, and even her maids noticed they never saw the princess with free time. Gradually, she regarded this life as a ruler’s duty, and she adapted to such a lifestyle. "Mirexia, you've done enough. Stop trying so hard; it's okay to lean on someone else sometimes." Just a moment ago, her peculiar childhood friend spoke to her in the tone and terms from when they were kids. In that instant, Mirexia felt her heart swell and eyes well up, as if someone had exposed a long-hidden vulnerability. That strange yet familiar feeling seemed a sign of impending tears. She didn't know why she suddenly felt like crying but managed to hold back, averting her eyes so Wenny wouldn't see her expression. "Princess Mirexia, if you're tired, rest a while. I'll guard the entrance," Wenny said. Unable to judge the time spent here, it felt like hours had passed, though outside it might’ve been only minutes. Mirexia must have been exhausted after her prolonged battle against the demon pillar cultists. "..." Mirexia instinctively wanted to refuse, to let Wenny sleep while she stood guard, but his words from earlier silenced her. "Alright, can I trust you?" "Princess, do you distrust me that much?" Wenny chuckled. "After all, I'm still your close childhood friend, right?" "I didn't mean it that way." Mirexia paused briefly and relaxed slightly against the rock wall. She shivered as the cold bit through her. Dragons are impervious to fire and water but vulnerable to the cold. A jacket, still warm, was tossed her way. Instinctively catching it, Mirexia froze momentarily. "Cold, right? Use this to keep warm. No time to be picky," Wenny said, feeling her gaze. He calmly watched the cave entrance. He discerned her coldness with a simple gesture. Indeed, besides her father, this blue-haired youth—they grew up together—knew her best. The dim light illuminated the young man's face, serene yet resolute in its tranquility. A gust swept through, tousling his hair against his delicate features. Now, Wenny had shed his usual playful and carefree demeanor. He was steady and composed, emanating a profound sense of reliability, as if he could shoulder the sky itself. An inexplicable spellbound state overcame Mirexia. Realizing her lapse, she hurriedly diverted her gaze. Breathing in the jacket's cheap cologne scent, one might find it pungent, but Mirexia felt reassured as if she was back in a safe haven. Trapped in adversity, it didn't matter; her childhood friend promised they would escape. As her consciousness blurred, her eyelids grew heavy and began to close. "Goodnight, my princess," Wenny gently bid Mirexia farewell, keeping a vigilant watch. She wasn’t sure how long she slept, but a tremorous sound woke her. "There's a mountain hollow over there; it's the only place we haven't searched. They must be there!" The voice of a purple-robed figure was piercing, startling Mirexia awake. Though she felt somewhat revitalized, her limbs were still weak, and she had difficulty rising. The effects of the "Fallen Dragon Elixir" hadn't fully worn off. Panicking slightly, Mirexia saw the figure beside her stand, drawing a curved blade from his belt as he moved towards the cave entrance. "Don't worry, Princess Mirexia. Leave it to me," came Wenny’s steady voice. "Wenny, don't act recklessly. They are the 'Bronze Blood,' some of the most dangerous demon pillar cultists. You're no match for them." "Don't worry, Princess Mirexia. Do you remember what I told you earlier? Sometimes, try to rely on others," Wenny said with a smile. "You rest, I'll handle this." "Wenny..." Mirexia watched Wenny's determined back with concern. She didn't believe he was a match for the 'Bronze Blood.' The cultists, after consuming those vile concoctions, had become partial emissaries of Eurnes. The affinity with the pillars of demonic gods was no trivial matter; it took a full army to deal with their kind. "Imposter boy, you're as elusive as cockroaches," came the sneering voice of the purple-robed figure as Wenny stepped out of the cave. His monster legion had the cave surrounded, which meant escape was impossible. "The princess is in the cave behind you, isn't she?" the purple-robed figure pressed when Wenny stayed silent. "Don't resist, or I'll carve you up for wasting our time." "If you just stay put and wait for death, I might grant you a quick end." "Wenny..." Inside the cave, Mirexia gripped the coat tighter, listening to the threats outside as she watched the young man's solitary back. "Get lost," Wenny finally replied, his tone icy as he pointed his sword at the purple-robed man. "All of you scumbags, scram. Dare to even scare my princess, and I'll hammer your heads into your chests." "Imposter boy, can't you see your situation?" The purple-robed man sneered with cruelty edging his smile. My princess? Those familiar words made Mirexia, inside the cave, open her eyes wide. "Mirexia, since the king announced you as the future queen of Carmela, you haven't smiled. What's wrong? I'm really worried about you." "Why has it come to this, Mirexia? Are you really happy now?" The words of the blue-haired boy from her memories, once incomprehensible, now resonated with a new meaning. "Mirexia, why don't you smile anymore? Smile for me?" Mirexia mustn't be happy. "Mirexia, can you come play with me?" Why doesn't Mirexia want to play with me like before? Why is her face always filled with worry? Why isn't Mirexia laughing like she used to, living so woodenly and numb? Why has Mirexia's smile turned forced and pained, pushing herself to smile, masking how much it hurts inside? Why, oh why? The blue-haired youth finally arrived at a conclusion. "It's you all! You did this!" "Mirexia changed because of you!" "From the moment Mirexia was declared the future queen, you all approached her with your ulterior motives. You scum only bring her distress and trouble! Do you have any idea?" he raged during her meetings with the other noble heirs. "It's all you! You robbed Mirexia of her happiness! You phony people, do you know the pressure you put on her? When meeting you all, Mirexia feigns smiles but isn't happy!" "You’ve taken her laughter away!" Snap! Something inside her shattered. In that moment, Mirexia understood all of Wenny’s past actions. Responsibilities, studies, interactions... She might have so much, but in his world, there was only one thing—her. He didn't care about her achievements; he cared if she was happy. From when the king announced Mirexia as the next queen, with the looming responsibilities forcing flattery and deceitful people into her life, his concern only grew. No longer did she smile genuinely. The young boy didn’t know how to help her, resorting to extremities by scolding the nobles around her, trying to chase them away from his princess. "You all came with your agendas. Your smiles are disgusting! Don't tarnish my Mirexia!" "You robbed Mirexia of her joy and laughter!" "You only bring her trouble, don’t you get it?" "Mirexia, being queen, does it matter more than me?" The question seemed absurd but now held significance. Mirexia, I want you to be happy every day, yet since being named heir, you haven’t smiled once... Does being queen bring you joy? He tried to make her smile like before because at that time, her expression truly worried him. Perhaps, in his eyes, she changed so much he barely recognized her. He feared she had a condition preventing her from being happy—the cause being the queen's role and sycophantic nobles constantly around her. He didn’t want Mirexia to become a mere tool with hollow smiles. But being devoid of noble upbringing, how could a young boy help? His naïve little actions back then stemmed from a genuine desire to help her out of her misery. This led to the string of irrational acts by Wenny perceived by others as inexplicable. During those times, she saw the boy's actions as nonsensical and didn't pay them much heed. So that was it. Was she truly someone so despicable? Shamefully hoping for someone to understand her, yet repeatedly cold to the one who genuinely cared. Is this what Father meant about taking things for granted? Yet, despite her indifferent treatment, he never abandoned her. His care for her remained as passionate as when they were children. Also at this moment, the memory of the younger blue-haired boy overlapped with the young man who stood before her, echoing familiar words. "You shameless bastards..." "Stay away from my princess! / Mirexia!" x2 The larger and smaller figures said in unison. Scorching tears unknowingly streamed down Mirexia's face, undetected until they had already flowed. "Virtue +500." "Current Virtue: 3054." "You want us to get lost? Imposter boy, what makes you think you can make us leave?" The purple-robed man, confident in victory, mocked without anger. "Your enchanted ice spear is indeed formidable, but it's useless now, isn't it?" The purple-robed man glanced at the sword in Wenny's hand, already guessing the boy's plight. He judged Wenny's capabilities to be no more than a sorcerer's tier, with an unimpressive spirit—defeating enemies of a higher tier or those empowered by Eurnes's potion seemed impossible. Such an extraordinary enchanted weapon had severe limitations and couldn't be used twice in quick succession. Otherwise, why confront us with nothing but a worn-out blade? It seemed he was cornered, pressed to his last stand. "Boy, your identity is fake, your words are fake, your skills are fake. What do you possibly have to protect your princess?" "You'll simply watch as we take her. She'll be our offering to Eurnes, for the grand purification ceremony, hahahaha!" "Save your threats; even without my magic, you're no match for me," the purple-robed man taunted. "Your untrained flesh is just too frail." "Indeed, that's the truth," Wenny did not deny. "So, imposter boy, have you given up?" The purple-robed man relished the chance to rub salt into the wounds of the defeated and weak. "Who said that?" Wenny smiled at the purple-robed man. "I admit, I'm quite weak, but are you so sure I'm a fake?" "What if, by some stroke of luck, you hit the jackpot?" "What do you mean?" The purple-robed man frowned. Wenny simply smiled, remaining silent as he let the curved blade slip from his fingers to the ground. It was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He took two steps back and turned to smile at Mirexia, who was wrapped in the coat. "Princess Mirexia, can you keep a secret for me?" "Keep a secret?" Mirexia looked puzzled, not comprehending Wenny's words. He offered no explanation. The blue-haired youth closed his eyes, bringing his hands together in prayer. Blessings descended like angels from the heavens, casting a cherry-blossom glow across every astonished face. "What is this...?" Mirexia was dumbstruck by the scene. In the radiant glow, hair like fluttering cherry petals danced gracefully. She appeared as a pristine white lotus, as pure and immaculate as an angel descending to cleanse the world of impurities. Mirexia covered her mouth, unable to believe what she was witnessing, even as the transcendent cherry-haired maiden, bathed in light, stepped out with elegance and composure. She couldn't reconcile this with reality. Her eyes were vacant; she felt she was gazing upon a goddess. "Virtue +600." "Current Virtue: 3654." "What?!" The purple-robed man and his monster cohorts were stupefied, their teeth chattering. There was no need for confirmation or defamation; the overwhelming sacred aura emanating from the cherry-haired maiden told them all they needed to know about who stood before them. "The Radiant Saintess!? No, it can't be! How is this possible? Wasn't the Fasyris family supposed to be..." The purple-robed man was at a loss for words.