2-20 - How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

Friian V's Web Novel - "How Can the Villainous Young Lord Possibly Be the Saintess?" Volume Two, Chapter 20 - Isn't Earning Virtues Just for Spending Them? Wenny remained silent. "Moreover, without any physical contact, I doubt the fragrance could be this intense," Shikondell continued, her gaze steady on Wenny, unwavering. Oops, in his haste to return, he completely forgot to spray the usual cheap perfume to mask other lingering scents! Considering the elves' heightened senses—more acute than necessary—it's likely Shikondell was among the best. She must have detected his scent as soon as he reached the door. Of course, it was intense... because... Not only did the fragrance of Mirexia linger, but also Vanessa's, all caught without exception. "Uh, incidental contact during work is unavoidable—other male students had brushes with me too," Wenny explained. "But Wenny, didn't you claim before that the scent in the bathroom was yours?" Shikondell ignored his explanation, questioning him quite intently. "Yet why, last night, did you not shower at home, nor take your bath items outside the dorm, and still have that scent on you?" Shikondell pressed on, accusing despite her usual reticent demeanor. The air of interrogation clung tightly to her soft features. "This..." "Wenny, have you been lying to me since last time?" Shikondell didn't allow him to respond, answering her own question. "Shikondell, hear me out first." "Why not just tell the truth? Why deceive me like everyone else?" Shikondell stood, closing in on Wenny. Only then did he discern the emptiness in her eyes mingled with pain from betrayal and despair. 'Virtue +100.' 'Current Virtue: 13254.' "So, are your lies preparing me for your abandonment too?" "Who would want to be close to someone as troublesome as me, right? You've been weary of me for ages, right Wenny?" Shikondell slipped into a self-reproaching state as she condemned herself. "Yes, I'm obviously the reason for your lies, for your reluctance to stay around me... Living in the same dorm must be burdensome for you, so much so that you avoid spending nights here," Shikondell's voice lowered, shrinking into herself as she hugged her knees like a quivering bird. "Come on, Shikondell, get up. The floor is cold, and with the flu spreading through the academy, you might catch a cold," Wenny said helplessly, perplexed that something as simple as explaining his whereabouts to a roommate could get this convoluted. So, who blew it out of proportion? Wenny felt a growing headache, finding Shikondell’s quirks challenging, and wondered how Aesphyra managed to tame her so effectively in the original work. Nevertheless, Shikondell's tale was indeed tragic—a princess whose realm was overtaken by outsiders, her people enslaved, and she forced into hiding under a false identity, clinging to a slim hope for restoration. From conversations between Millet and Shikondell, it was evident they once had a close bond, which later fractured, apparently because the gold elves refused aid during the moon elves' darkest times, disregarding kinship. Wenny did not fully grasp the background events, not delving deeply into the story's latter parts. This poor child truly experienced a hard life, enduring trials before encountering a destined benefactor. Sighing heavily, Wenny spoke again. "Shikondell, calm down. Didn't I already discuss not blaming yourself for everything?" "Last night, I was working at a colleague's home. You know the student council closes at five, and besides the group leader and president, no one is allowed to stay after hours. Hence, I worked at a colleague's residence." "Was it a girl?" Shikondell asked timidly. "Does it matter whether it was a guy or a girl? Surely, you don't expect all the student council members to be male?" Wenny replied, puzzled. "So, the scent in the bathroom, it truly wasn't Wenny's own, was it?" "This isn't easy to explain, but I assure you, I'm not lying about that matter. Shikondell, truthfully, everyone harbors a few secrets in this world, don't they?" Blinking, Shikondell processed his words. "Surely, you have secrets you wouldn't disclose to anyone, correct? It’s no shame; everyone has them. Could you tell me about yours, or would you?" "I, I..." she stammered, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Her own secrets—her lineage and real gender—were parts of her she couldn't reveal to anyone. If discovered by other tribes at the academy, the potential repercussions frightened her. She feared threats, even perhaps extortion, with threats of harm to other moon elves to bend her will. Moreover, revealing the truth would disrupt her arrangement of living with Wenny under false pretenses. So, with a sense of guilt, Shikondell lowered her head. "See? You too have secrets you choose to keep," Wenny observed gently. "Everyone does, no shame in it. My point, instead of insisting others share their secrets, understand it often involves personal and significant matters—do you follow?" "Mm...," Shikondell hesitated but understood now. She still wondered about the lingering scent from that bathroom incident, but Wenny's explanation seemed justified—like her, he needed to keep certain truths undisclosed. "So, Wenny, do you plan to switch dorms?" "Why switch dorms? I’m accustomed to this place with you cooking dinner regularly; why move out?" "Last night, you didn't return all night. I thought you despised me, preferring to spend the night elsewhere." "Shikondell, stop letting your mind make wild assumptions, would you?" "So, which colleague were you working with yesterday?" "Not really. While working, I dozed off on the desk, only to wake up in the morning." Wenny opted not to reveal the truth, for it would expose Mirexia's sensitive secrets. You see, he lied to protect his childhood friend's significant secret—he had no choice! Wenny internally consoled his guilty conscience. "And what about the scent?" "Perhaps it lingered when passing documents," Wenny explained. "Ah, Wenny, you work so hard." Upon hearing about Wenny's exhaustion, Shikondell's inner conflict and suspicion morphed into compassion and regret. Wenny was genuinely working hard to support her, a burdensome roommate, while she fretted over trivial matters. Why was she harboring such thoughts anyway? Even taking a step back, Wenny owed her no promises or special bonds to warrant interrogation on such matters. Reflecting, she found herself unsure how to define her relationship with Wenny—lacking grounds to monitor his overnight whereabouts or friendships with other females. Yet, her interest inadvertently piqued. Ultimately, she blamed herself for her predicament—her nation's downfall leading to a concealed identity, not daring to unveil her true gender. However, pondering revealed nothing Wenny might uncover—knowing her true gender changed nothing. Thus, Shikondell spiraled into another bout of internal turmoil, with time slipping swiftly into the next afternoon before Wenny’s return cracked open the door. "I can't believe you lost a night's sleep over something trivial. Shikondell, how should I address this? As I've mentioned, a man should be magnanimous, expansive; how can you spend a night fretting over such trivial details? Is this how a man behaves?" Wenny poked Shikondell on the forehead. "Alright, hurry up and catch some sleep. Good thing it's a holiday today; otherwise, you'd remember nothing at school," Wenny sighed. "Okay, I understand." Shikondell rubbed her forehead, "I'm sorry." "Why are you apologizing again?" Wenny, accustomed to Shikondell's constant apologizing, anticipated calluses forming in his ears. "Alright, enough apologies, go get your rest." Finally soothing her, Shikondell retreated to rest, while Wenny focused on his virtue system. Currently, he held a virtue balance of 13,254 points. Not an easy feat. Wenny pondered the struggle it took to amass such a robust wealth of virtue. He endured contact with these harbingers of misfortune from the original work, often risking his life with mental assaults, while maintaining charades to accrue virtue past the ten thousand mark. Certainly, special thanks went to his charming childhood friend, Mirexia. While initially, he pinned Aesphyra as the frontrunner, her limited contributions, combined with Vanessa-like tendencies, betrayed his expectations. Besides Shikondell and Millet—their small contributions paled yet surpassed nonexistent assistance from others. And let’s not forget the certain big white fox—now irrelevant as they likely wouldn’t meet again, this past association held no further value. Most importantly, Mirexia, undeniably his foremost benefactor, embodied an absolute starter blessing, facilitating vast virtue through sheer ease due to her personality, illuminating his pioneering path. Were Wenny to host a virtue celebration, Mirexia's primacy ensured silence from others, maintaining decorum around the dining. Now approached the exhilarating moment. Like earning money, the endgame was splurging—likewise, accruing virtue readied it for expenditure. He browsed the store, eyeing the "Blessing of the Sacred Fire," priced at 1,500 virtue points to reduce energy consumption. Without hesitation, Wenny confirmed the purchase. Virtue well spent on enhancing his formidable "Divine Flame of the Holy Praises." 'Virtue deducted by 1,500 points.' 'Current virtue: 11,754.' Reducing energy consumption the second time commanded 6,000 virtue points, quadrupling the cost. Pondering briefly, his gaze shifted to "Blessing of the Holy Feather," costing 500 points per upgrade. Unlike other speculative spells, this upgrade directly boosted Vanessa's fighting capabilities, proving its significance. He proceeded to invest in "Blessing of the Holy Feather," upgrading until no points remained. In total, Wenny spent 11,400 virtue points, enhancing "Blessing of the Holy Feather" fivefold. Its energy consumption fell drastically; functionality expanded and strengthened, evolving from initial low-level dual wings to unprecedentedly ultimate dual wings, revealing further evolutionary upgrade options demanding 15,000 virtue points. 'Next "Blessing of the Holy Feather" upgrade requires 15,000 virtue points, with level: Master, evolving to quadruple wings post-upgrade.' Could wing count yield further increments? He envisioned the goddess statues decorating Elysium Church's entrances—uniformly six-winged. Every Holy Maiden in history expanded their wings with growing prowess. Fasyris’ angelic lineage dictated mythology where an angel's strength and rank correlated with their wings' number. Thus, his meticulously gathered virtue dissipated in mere seconds, leaving a meager 354-point balance.