3-10 - How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

### Volume Three, Chapter 10: The Princess in the Abandoned Park "Idiot." Recalling Wenny, Aesphyra's lips curled into a barely noticeable smile, one she possibly didn't even realize herself. He had gone through the trouble of seeking help from Vannesa for her sake. Despite always claiming to be a villainous young master, his actions bore no trace of 'evil.' This world's Wenny was truly different from the notorious Wenny of the previous timeline. Both were irritating, but their cores were entirely different. Though he still annoyed her, Aesphyra had thoroughly changed her view of the current Wenny; she even thought that all past grievances might have been just a dream, just as Wenny seemed like one too. In fact, Aesphyra had long suspected a possibility, and it wasn't the first time—but every suspicion would eventually be dismissed due to logical inconsistencies. Even if she overturned the existing logic to suspect that Wenny or Vannesa was masquerading as the other, from Aesphyra's perspective, it was clear that neither Wenny nor Vannesa's personalities were a façade. So who was impersonating whom? Who was the true self? This issue was an unsolvable riddle as, through Aesphyra's long-term observation, both displayed very distinct personalities. If either were an act, small slips would have surfaced over time. If even she couldn't detect a trace of performance, the act must have welded onto their faces permanently to pull it off. This was the crux of the problem. Aesphyra, with her expertise in acting, could tell that Wenny and Vannesa's acting levels were not in the same league. Vannesa's acting was decidedly superior, worthy of Aesphyra's praise for its extraordinary talent. Meanwhile, Wenny couldn't cover his true emotions at all, exuding a simple-minded charm that couldn't be hidden even if he tried. They were on completely different acting tiers. Could one person exhibit two entirely different sets of traits and acting skills? Even with Aesphyra's understanding, such a feat seemed exaggerated. True acting blends genuine emotions. Wouldn't this split a person's mind in two? If that were the case, it would mean someone masterfully portraying two different people before her eyes, with neither performance detectable by Aesphyra, the acting queen. Such formidable acting was beyond Aesphyra's confidence to replicate flawlessly. So she dismissed the idea once again. The odds were practically zero. Besides, anyone sensible enough could see that these two were not the same individual. How could a graceful, angelic lady of refined elegance be the same as a rough, unrefined, ill-mannered youth? If it weren't for sharing the Ferris surname, any sane person wouldn't conflate the two. Still, there might be an unorthodox way to test this, a possibility worth exploring... --- After delivering the medicine to Aesphyra, Wenny returned home with the remaining vials of 'Angel's Kiss' by-products. Mirexia had devoted so much time and energy caring for him lately, and her student council work had piled up. She needed to catch up. Wenny knocked on his home door. "Is Miss Shikondell around? I'm back." A pause inside was followed by the pitter-patter of bare feet on the wooden floor, and Shikondell soon appeared, delighted to see Wenny, her eyes bright with joy. 'Virtue +50.' 'Current virtue: 10,354.' "Wenny, have you finally finished your work?" she inquired. Feeling a pang of guilt, Wenny recalled that the excuse he'd given Shikondell was entirely fabricated. Yet she had believed it for so long. In truth, he had been genuinely busy and overwhelmed—even collapsing into bed for days. "Ah, yes, it's finally over. The student council's work has been truly hectic. Did Mirexia tell you?" he explained. "Yes, Mirexia mentioned it, but she didn't elaborate on what you were busy with," Shikondell replied, tilting her head slightly, her hair cascading over her shoulder. "Well, it's the start of the school year, so the student council has been very occupied with various tasks." Wenny clarified. "Oh," Shikondell nodded dimly, unsure whether she truly understood. "By the way, it's been ages since I tasted your cooking. Would it be possible to enjoy your culinary skills tonight?" He deftly shifted the topic, avoiding the need for a detailed explanation. "Eh? Certainly!" Shikondell was instantly captivated by the new subject. Wenny's interest in her meals implied he missed her during his busy days. 'Virtue +50.' 'Current virtue: 10,404.' Still as easily swayed as ever. Seeing the virtue updates and Shikondell's reaction, Wenny knew she was wrapped around his finger once more. Ah, Shikondell was still rather naive, easily distracted from core issues by a simple change of topic. Returning home, Wenny found everything immaculate, just as he'd left it. Clearly, Shikondell had dutifully maintained the dormitory—his own room spotless and organized. She respected boundaries, only touching items that didn't infringe on his privacy. Relaxed on the living room sofa, Wenny lounged like a lord of the manor, requiring nothing more than leaving Shikondell sufficient funds for her upkeep. Sprawled lazily, holding a vial of the green by-product, he pondered, examining the liquid closely. What sort of concoction is this? After much deliberation, he concluded that, as its alchemist, it was his responsibility to test the unknown by-product, pursuing the scientific spirit by trying it himself. Modern times have seen a shift—many alchemists hire others to test their experiments—but not Wenny. He lacked their wealth and preferred self-reliance. Considering the by-products were essentially a mixture of his essence and nourishing components, any harmful effects should be minimal, right? He knew some alchemical materials had various hidden effects, but since this recipe came from Saintess Elysia, it was presumably safe. Even if some negative effects existed, the saint's blood would neutralize them. With these thoughts, he gathered his courage and poured a small portion into a small bowl before downing it in one gulp. Hmm, it tasted somewhat sweet. Strange, there was no sugar in it. Why the sweet taste? With bated breath, he awaited the effects—fifteen minutes passed. Nothing happened. In the mirror, he found no unusual spots or hallucinations, feeling clear-headed and normal. The by-product seemed harmless. Since it wasn't toxic, what effect did it have? Wait a minute. Wenny thought he might have figured out what the by-product's effect was. Previously, due to the constant running around and loss of so much vital energy, he felt exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. Even getting up from bed was a sluggish endeavor. But now, that fatigue was completely gone. He felt invigorated, his mental state remarkably improved. Could it be that this by-product was meant to restore mental fatigue? Wenny mused. It made sense — the main product was for healing physical wounds, while the by-product might be a remedy for mental exhaustion. However, it wasn't confirmed yet. What if it was a toxin that accumulated until it reached a critical mass and then proved fatal? Driven by strict academic rigor, Wenny drank the remainder of the potion. The result? He felt even more energized, brimming with vitality that simply demanded release. He felt ready to battle student council paperwork for hours. No other significant side effects were observed. It appeared to truly be non-toxic; consuming that amount hadn't caused any adverse reactions. "Wenny, dinner's ready." "Oh, right, I'll be there." With that, Wenny pocketed the remaining bottles of the green vitality potion and headed to the dining table. It had been a while since he last tasted Shikondell's cooking. Though her meals weren't exceptionally gourmet, they had a certain comforting essence, a warmth akin to home. Unlike the cold, impersonal mansion of his hometown, the dormitory at Carlyleven Academy felt strangely reassuring, bringing a sense of peace to his once restless heart. Perhaps, without realizing it, he had started considering this dormitory as his home. After dinner, Wenny took a walk with Shikondell, as it had been some time since they spent time together. The next day, Wenny left his house, a blade of grass in his mouth, wandering aimlessly through the academy. Classes were set to begin the following day, and despite staying at the academy, he'd neglected to prepare due to his focus on aiding Aesphyra and her endless requests. Ah, blame the troublesome white-haired nut—it was all her fault, a walking jinx, draining everyone else's fortunes to boost her own. As he mused, Wenny found himself wandering into an abandoned park. Hmm? This park was familiar to him. If he remembered correctly, he'd delivered messages to an insider within the academy here, beneath an old tree's hollow. Hardly anyone visited this place anymore. Wenny knew this well, having delivered messages here several times. At night, it felt ghostly, not a soul in sight, starkly contrasting the bustling streets nearby. Hence, he expected it to be deserted at this hour. However, that wasn't the case. To his surprise, sitting under the familiar old tree was someone he recognized. A delicate figure leaned gently against the tree trunk, eyes slightly closed, her lashes, like fragile butterfly wings, touched with a hint of frosty dew. Cradling an open book in her hands, it rested quietly on her snowy, alabaster thighs. Dark, silky hair cascaded down, slipping past her slender waist, streaming like a satin ribbon onto the grass. The serene, ethereal beauty of the raven-haired girl exuded an otherworldly calm as she rested her eyes, surrounded by the opened book, the abandoned park, and the timeworn tree—a picture of tranquil elegance. Yet. Wenny watched, slightly perplexed. Leaning against the tree in the abandoned park, the black-haired girl was unmistakably Ishtiya. Her presence there made sense; she enjoyed peace and quiet, often seeking out these isolated spots to read. However. What was she up to now? Resting her eyes? Normally, Wenny might assume that and quietly walk away, pretending not to have seen her. But after the incident at the library, he couldn't shake the feeling that Ishtiya's state was unusual. It seemed like she'd fallen asleep again. Was this princess someone without any sense of time? Staying up late at night to read, full of energy, then sleepy and dozing during the daytime? It didn't appear so. If her sleep schedule weren't disrupted, why did he keep finding her asleep with a book? And why was she always carrying a history book around? From a distance, he couldn't discern the title of the book she held. But judging by its thickness, it was no casual novel—likely another historical research journal. This concerned Wenny a bit. Was the princess really alright? Sleeping so unguardedly in an abandoned park, was that wise? Could it be like last time, where she was simply too exhausted and fainted? Wenny thought it was quite possible. However, normally people with poor sleep have faint dark circles, yet she bore none. Should he go over and check on her? Having encountered so many divine heroines, he was no stranger to karmic ties. Perhaps helping Ishtiya wouldn't add too much to his already plentiful connections. Oh well, better check on her; she seemed unconscious. It wasn't safe for a girl to sleep here. "Ishtiya, Ishtiya?" Wenny approached, calling her name, but received no response. Ishtiya continued to lean quietly against the tree, her gaze lowered, silent.