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

Volume Three: Chapter 19~ The Aura of the Villainess Fred was sitting with a drink and some sunflower seeds, looking rather morose, while his companions, all having a laugh, teased him about being surrounded by so many lovely young women and yet not finding solace in his sorrow. "Fred, what's going on with you? Can't all these beauties cure your woes?" one of his card-playing buddies chuckled, noticing Fred's quiet mumbling and distant gaze directed at the spot where a light blue-haired girl had just departed. "Hey, do you all think there's something wrong with my eyes?" Fred ignored the teasing, his voice tense, as his eyes remained glued to the direction the girl had left. "Huh? What's wrong with your eyes? What are you talking about?" his friends asked, not understanding his concern. They were there to relax and enjoy the sights, not to stress over them. "Did any of you feel something familiar about that girl, Wennyia, number eighteen? Didn't she give off a vibe that's somewhat familiar?" Fred pressed. His friends erupted in laughter. "Familiar vibe? Fred, if you like her, just admit it! No need to beat around the bush with talk of familiarity. What, did you recognize her as a lover from a past life?" they teased. "I always thought Fred was only interested in cards. What's this, love at first sight?" another quipped. "Knock it off, you idiots, I'm serious!" Fred snapped. "Didn't you think there was something about her that reminded you of Wenny?" The group paused for a moment. "You sure? How so?" Frankly, none of his companions saw the resemblance; it seemed only Fred had picked up on something, leading him to doubt his own perception. "Who knows, maybe she's related to Wenny?" Fred's friends laughed, dismissing his concerns. On the other side, Wenny, who had returned to the waiting room, found himself in a quandary over his current predicament. He was participating in a beauty contest in disguise, and the realization that someone might recognize him was nerve-wracking. "Who could it be? Which one of the destined heroines at the event figured out I am actually Wenny?" Not that it made much sense; none of them would be wasting their time at a beauty contest, right? After going through a list of possible suspects—Mirexia was working overtime; Ishtiya wouldn’t bother with such events, and Shikondell already knew about his disguise—he shuddered at the conclusion he reached. Could it be... Aesphyra, the white-haired terror? She didn't seem like someone who'd bother with this, and certainly, she wouldn't reveal everything in such a public manner, right? Besides, Aesphyra had a strong aversion to men… Wenny's nerves were on edge. Returning to his seat in the lounge, he tried to calm himself. He had to focus on winning now that he had come this far. After all, if he didn’t win, then all the trouble of disguising himself would have been for naught. He smoothed down his hair to appear collected, but the tension was unmistakable. The most challenging round was yet to come—hand-to-hand combat, where magic could only be used to assist but not directly attack. This was advantageous to him, except for one problem—how to prevent the skirt from flying up during the fight. "How are you feeling? All good?" a voice broke his thoughts. It was Liz, one of the other contestants, offering reassurance. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for earlier," Wenny replied, his voice grateful. "It's nothing, really. I was nervous at first too, but once you're up there, it's not that bad," Liz smiled. "You're right," Wenny nodded. Liz took his reticence as shyness and said no more. With the first round over, the next event was the combat segment. No one had to win; the battles just needed to be entertaining. The academy was offering something fresh; students were curious and drawn in by the spectacle. Matches were drawn, and Wenny faced a tall, elegantly dressed girl wielding an ornate fan. Her appearance and demeanor were imposing. "You must be my opponent," she said, looking down at him with an intimidating gaze. Wenny, average in height for a male, found himself dwarfed by her presence. It stirred a sense of defiance in him. The girl gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering disapprovingly on his flat chest before letting out a derisive chuckle. Her attitude showed a clear confidence, perhaps because of her privileged background. Wenny knew her act was meant to unsettle him and bring him under her control during the fight. But he wouldn’t play along. He crossed his arms defiantly, adopting an air more characteristic of a storybook villainess. "What’s with the laugh? If you've come to forfeit before the match, better do it now," Wenny said in a convincing faux voice. "You'll save yourself the embarrassment." In a battle of wills, Wenny didn’t intend to back down. "Where did this country noble come from, with such a big mouth for someone so young?" The tall girl squinted her eyes, unable to tolerate such provocation. "Tsk, you sure talk a lot. I'm giving you the grace of a conversation, and you think you're some big star?" Wenny crossed his arms defiantly. "Maybe if you shut up now, I'll let you lose with some dignity later." "Hah! We'll see about that, country girl!" The tall girl shot a glare at Wenny before walking away. Feeling more confident after their clash, Wenny returned to his seat. The earlier stage fright had vanished. As the previous four matches concluded, Wenny got a good sense of the contest's structure. The aim was to showcase elegant and striking moves, which the judges would score. There were instances where someone could win the fight but score lower than their opponent. Prepared and composed, Wenny stood as soon as the judges announced his name, stepping into the arena alongside his tall opponent. As the ambient noise grew, the stage lights seemed more intense, shining brightly on him. Gathering his resolve, he faced the girl under the scrutiny of the audience. "Good luck," the tall girl taunted, trying to leverage her height to intimidate Wenny. "The rules of the match are as follows," the referee declared, "No magic will be used to attack your opponent directly; only supportive magic is allowed. No attacks are to be made once the timer ends or the result is clear. Do both of you understand?" Both Wenny and the tall girl nodded in acknowledgement. "After introductions, the match will commence," said the referee, stepping off the stage. "Alaya Korinne, the eldest daughter of the illustrious Korinne family of the Tyrell Empire," Alaya announced, her demeanor exuding arrogance as she looked at Wenny, issuing an unspoken challenge. Psychological warfare even before the fight? "Just Wennyia," Wenny replied curtly, using his affected voice, offering no further introduction. Alaya scoffed upon hearing Wenny's brief introduction. "Not even a family name? Or has it already fallen into obscurity?" "I thought you were just a country noble lacking manners, but you aren't even that? Seems I overestimated you," she sneered, attempting to leverage her noble lineage to belittle him. Alaya’s arrogance was palpable, causing many in the audience, especially the academy's commoner students, to nervously bite their lips. Those familiar with Alaya's nature couldn't help but feel concerned for the blue-haired Wenny on stage. However, most students were there for the spectacle; the more explosive the situation, the more entertaining it was for them. After all, there's nothing quite like a showdown between women. "Huh?" Wenny tilted his head slightly, his light blue hair cascading around his ears as he exuded the presence reminiscent of a villainess. "So, is your courage to challenge me solely because of your family's name?" "Are you implying that without your family, you're nothing, Miss Alaya?" Wenny countered, his words dripping with disdain. "You!" Alaya gritted her teeth. Nobody had ever dared challenge her like this, and her verbal skills were no match for Wenny's. "Country girl, you're here for the elemental elixir too? Tsk, and someone like you dares claim a high ice elemental affinity?" Alaya taunted, her fists clenching in frustration. Wenny was unfazed. Having grown up amid the harsh reality of the capital, he was no stranger to insults. Being called 'country girl' hardly mattered, especially when the gender was off-based. Glancing toward the judges' panel, Wenny noticed five unfamiliar faces, though this was to be expected. Spotting familiar faces in the crowd was impossible with so many spectators present. The tension between them simmered until the referee's call of "Begin!" signalled the start of the match. As if marking the cue, the tall girl, true to her aggressive demeanor, launched forward with lightning speed, aiming directly at Wenny. Having honed their skills at the academy known for its high combat prowess, it was expected. But Wenny had grown since those early days when he would have been easily bested. He took a deep breath, sidestepped with a backward motion as his hair soared, narrowly evading Alaya's punch to his face. Even so, he felt the rush of her fist as it whizzed past, the heat of it lingering on his cheek.