3-11 - How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?

Volume 3, Chapter 11 ~ Source of Goods?? Wenny called Ishtiya several times, but she didn't respond. She just leaned quietly against the tree trunk, letting the wind gently lift her silk-like black hair. Has she fallen asleep again? Wenny pondered over this, hesitating for a while before deciding to wake Ishtiya up. Though this place is usually deserted, leaving a girl to sleep here alone didn't seem right. As he approached, Wenny noticed that Ishtiya was indeed in a deep sleep. He could sense her steady and rhythmic breathing. Even when he crouched down in front of her, she remained unaware. Just like last time at the library, she could sleep soundly beside a boy she barely knew, and with whom she had an unwanted engagement. She needed to avoid him, yet she still fell asleep by his side. Ishtiya isn't a careless girl. Perhaps, as on this occasion, she really couldn't resist the overwhelming drowsiness and fell asleep in the park with a book in her arms. This left Wenny with an intriguing impression, reminding him of a koala, which spends most of its time asleep, waking up only for brief periods. Wenny glanced at the book resting on Ishtiya's lap. Just the sight of the densely packed text made his head spin. Many of the characters were unfamiliar to him, written in the ancient empire's language, difficult to comprehend, with only a few resembling modern characters. A mere glance at the book felt like a CPU overloading, as if he were confronting incomprehensible text. Wenny rubbed his head, feeling as if he were facing a cryptic piece of literature. Surely, another historical text? And an original from the ancient empire at that, not a translation. Just as he was about to rouse Ishtiya, his gaze fell on her face. Her eyelids, like little fans, fluttered gently. Wenny rubbed his eyes, unsure if he'd seen correctly. In the next moment, reality confirmed his sight; Ishtiya indeed fluttered her eyes open, and upon meeting his gaze, she fully awakened. Wenny felt he should be nervous, but panic seemed futile. Standing in front of a sleeping girl like this wasn't awkward enough? However, that wasn't the cause of his anxiety. The several golden ornate spears hovering by his neck made him hold his breath, fearing any movement would lead to a sharp point piercing his skin. Heh, just a minor scene, he thought. Wasn't he, in his youth as the notorious rogue of Kamila's capital, used to being beaten down and surrounded by threats? A small scene; this wasn't his first experience after all, being the major boss of the original saga. What hadn't he faced? Wait, this was, in fact, new territory! Wenny gasped, realizing these golden spears held a different gravitas than street thugs' clubs, with a presence so profound they felt capable of claiming his soul. Further, those violet eyes, akin to Aesphyra's, exuded an innate authority. They reminded him of a deity surveying a mere ant on the brink of overstepping. Doomed? Could this be a trigger in the destined heroine's defense mechanism? Ishtiya was as vigilant as a wild cat. Would one thrust of those spears end him, or bring forth Vanessa? Though feeling cornered, the tension dissipated soon enough. "Oh, it's you?" Upon recognizing Wenny, the vigilance in Ishtiya's gaze dissipated significantly. She withdrew her summoned spirit. The golden spears hovering protectively dissolved into intricate runes. "Why are you here?" Ishtiya hadn't moved, her eyes lingering on him, awaiting his response. "Uh..." Is it the prestige of the Tyrell royal blood? Her scrutinous violet eyes were naturally intimidating, as if he were a vampire doused in sunlight, compelling him to flee. Would Aesphyra wield such authority were she to unleash it? "I saw you napping in the abandoned park and thought it was similar to last time," Wenny explained hesitantly. "And so?" Ishtiya gazed at him evenly. "And so, I wanted to check on you. After all, if it's like last time, a girl sleeping here alone isn't ideal..." "You wanted to help me?" "Ah? Ah, yes, you could say that." Wenny nodded blankly. "Ha," Ishtiya exhaled softly, not quite a warm laugh, more a touch of derision, or so Wenny perceived. It felt like she was implying 'Can you truly help me?' with an air of subtle contempt. Perhaps this was the outcome of Ishtiya's upbringing. Wenny almost spoke, but held back. Indeed, was it not presumptive? An imperial grand princess needing his assistance? In reality, isn't it the opposite? "Well, I won't bother you. I'm off," Wenny waved goodbye with a polite smile and turned to leave. Darn, he thought Aesphyra was challenging, but this Ishtiya might be the most difficult to deal with. Better to make a retreat. As he departed, flustered from earlier, a vial of green potion tumbled from his pocket, landing near Ishtiya's feet. "Ah, sorry, my bad," he stammered, aiming to retrieve it, faced with the awkward position of the vial lying right before Ishtiya's legs. Wouldn't reaching for it result in being skewered by her vigilant spears? "Alchemy potion? What's this?" Ishtiya inquired nonchalantly. "Oh, this? Just an innocuous potion," Wenny hurriedly replied and found himself locked under Ishtiya's gaze. "What kind of potion?" Her eyes bore into him with intense scrutiny. "A restorative type," Wenny disclosed, fearing any implication of malice in his proximity to her with the green elixir, eager to clear any potential misunderstanding. "Restorative? Its color seems off." Ishtiya picked up the bottle, observing the swirling liquid inside with ease. "Well, potions these days are diverse. Until a label's attached, who knows its effect? Even with a label, mistakes can happen, no?" Wenny shrugged. "If you doubt, I could drink it here and now, if that satisfies you?" "What kind of restorative effect does it boast?" she persisted. "Hmm, not entirely known yet, but primarily designed for mental fatigue recovery," Wenny mused. "Meaning this potion isn't available publicly?" "Ah, you could say that," Wenny confirmed, uncertain of Ishtiya's intentions with her inquiry. "You claim it alleviates mental fatigue? How effective is it?" "Yes, it's quite effective. I've tried it myself—just a sip and I was refreshed," Wenny said. "Did you make this potion?" Ishtiya continued questioning. "Well, that's a complicated story." Naturally, Wenny couldn't reveal the truth. "Alright, I'd like to buy this potion. May I try it?" Ishtiya suddenly shifted the direction of the conversation, catching Wenny off guard as he pondered how to handle more questions from her. "Huh?" Wenny was stunned. "Are you sure?" "Why, do you have concerns?" "No concerns, but this potion isn't officially available on the market," Wenny replied, surprised. An imperial grand princess doesn't need to resort to such desperate measures, right? She has access to the finest alchemists of the entire Tyrell Empire. It seemed unlikely she would randomly try unverified remedies. "Isn’t that a good thing?" Ishtiya tipped her head slightly. "What?" Wenny was baffled, struggling to grasp the princess's thought process. "Or is it not for sale?" she questioned, glancing down at the vial in her hand. "It's not that, but aren't you worried it might be poisonous?" "Is there any reason you’d harm me?" Ishtiya asked, cutting off Wenny’s words. "No, of course not," Wenny admitted, pressing his lips together. "Then why should I worry?" "Uh, I suppose there isn’t a reason," Wenny found himself struck by the candor and decisiveness of the girl before him. Shouldn't she worry about the safety of a questionable product? This princess was truly... How to say it? Her decisive and unwavering character was quite similar to Aesphyra's. It must be the influence of the Careliman family lineage? With that, Wenny watched as Ishtiya calmly twisted open the cap, sniffed the potion, and drank it. Wenny stood aside, silent. After ingesting the potion, Ishtiya's eyes fluttered open, clearing with a brightness that had been previously absent. The transformation was tangible, her concealed aura bursting forth like a phoenix freed. Wenny widened his eyes slightly, witnessing her demeanor shift dramatically with just a drink. It seemed her previous condition was quite dire, corroborating Wenny’s suspicion of an underlying illness that sapped her vitality. This was a peculiar ailment that neither the top medical nor alchemical experts of the Tyrell Empire could cure. Earlier, Ishtiya must have been at her wits’ end, unable to find relief through any conventional means, prompting her to try this odd roadside remedy. Yet Wenny felt that Ishtiya didn’t make this decision lightly. These protagonists, guided by destiny, possessed an uncanny intuition, likely steering her to choose his potion. As for why his remedy succeeded where others failed, the answer was quite simple. Though a byproduct, this concoction was brewed from sacred angelic blood—a cure potent enough to lift curses from demon lords themselves. Healing mental fatigue was a minor task in comparison. Ishtiya observed her surroundings, her eyes once again settling on the book in her lap. The previously blurred text was now clear, her faculties restored to a state unaffected by fatigue. Her violet eyes flickered with astonishment. She hadn’t anticipated that this peculiar green potion would indeed invigorate her to such an extent. Even the most advanced vigor potions couldn't achieve such results. Those sophisticated elixirs initially worked, but over time, they waned and eventually failed, offering no further aid. This unique potion, however, unlike standard elixirs, revived her drained spirit with an immediate effect, like a barren well filling with fresh, nourishing water. "Do you have more of this potion?" Ishtiya asked, her gaze piercing through Wenny. "If you do, I’ll purchase all of it. Money is no object." "And if there’s a supplier, I’d be very interested in buying the entire stock." "Uh, Ishtiya, I don’t have a supplier," Wenny replied, his lips twitching. Supplier? The supplier is essentially him, but he's nearly drained his own vital essence. Without a significant recovery period, he couldn't attempt it again, nor did he wish to endure the agony of the process again.