The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 277: Reason

“Muen, do you know the Life Church’s Holy Ablution Ri—”

“I don’t!”

“I don’t know anything about it!”

“Don’t co to !”

Before Professor Prang could even speak, Muen jolted to his feet and left without looking back.

Of course he knew what the Holy Ablution Rite was.

Whenever the position of Saintess in the Church fell vacant, this rite would be opened to choose the true Saintess from among several candidates.

In the original book, this could be called a very important arc.

It was precisely in this arc that, to compete against the other outstanding Saintess candidates, Ariel and Liya leaned on each other, supported one another, and their feelings gradually heated up through crisis after crisis. Only then did Liya’s feelings for Ariel shift from childhood-friend to yuri hand-in-hand, with that old lady-killer Ariel successfully taking her down.

And Liya’s identity as Saintess not only let Ariel flex at least a hundred tis, it would definitely provide her with trendous help later on.

Though what followed was the classic “childhood friend parts ways, starts flirting with the heaven-sent girl” plot...

But the Church choosing a Saintess, the phoenix-proud protagonist opening a harem—what did that have to do with him, this harmless yellow-haired guy?

“Heh, looks like you do know.”

Muen hadn’t taken more than two steps when he heard Professor Prang’s soft chuckle behind him.

He tapped his cane.

At once, Muen’s body froze, then, like a puppet manipulated by invisible threads, he turned his head against his will, stepped back, and sat down on the bench.

“Let’s have a proper talk, Muen.”

“What’s there to talk about? Professor Prang, you’re not so beautiful maiden. I only bare my heart to beautiful maidens with pretty faces and sweet voices!”

Muen gnashed his teeth.

“A beautiful maiden, hm?”

Muen had only tossed it out casually, but to his surprise Professor Prang stroked his chin and considered it seriously:

“Transformation magic isn’t hard. If you’re willing, I could—”

“No, no, no!”

Just picturing Professor Prang turning into a beautiful maiden to talk with him...

Muen waved his hands in horror. “I was joking! Joking!”

“Is that so?”

The corner of Professor Prang’s mouth ticked up slightly. “Then can we have a proper talk now, Muen?”

“...”

Damn.

Muen cursed inwardly.

Didn’t expect you, square-jawed, thick-browed Professor Prang, to pull cheap tricks like this too.

So you’ve been around that old degenerate Professor Garan too long and caught it, huh?

“Talk.”

Muen resigned himself, slumping across the bench with dead-fish eyes as he asked:

“What do you want with ?”

“Since you know about the Holy Ablution Rite, that makes it simple.”

Professor Prang took off his top hat and set it aside:

“In brief, the Holy Ablution Rite only happens once in decades. Its significance is second only to the papal succession ceremony that hasn’t been held in three hundred years. All factions must send people. The Academy wishes you to—”

“I’m not going!”

Muen’s eyes bulged; he stiffened his neck:

“Absolutely not!”

What a joke.

Send him to the Church?

Setting aside the Withering King’s Divine Favor in his body—

The Elizabeth in his hand was once one of the Church’s holy swords!

You could say that from head to toe he was steeped in auras that clashed with the Church.

Isn’t it fine to lie flat and slack off safely at the Academy? Why run off far away to court death?

“There are benefits,” Professor Prang said concisely.

“Even with benefits, I’m not going!”

Muen snapped viciously:

“Besides, with my current identity, can I really just leave Belrand whenever I want?”

You have to know that his cheap old man was still leading the Empire’s most elite several hundred thousand troops at the border facing off against the Demonfolk. If Muen just slipped out of Belrand like this, wasn’t he afraid the Duke of Campbell would have a brain flash, slap his knee, turn his coat, swing back, and snatch that birdy emperor’s seat?

The Demonfolk would be delighted to see that, and might even lend a hand!

In terms of imperial calculus, that sort of thing is absolutely impossible.

“Don’t worry. His Majesty has already agreed.”

“Huh? Why?” Muen was dumbstruck.

“His Majesty said he’s quite at ease with you, his future son-in-law, and quite at ease with the Campbell family as well. He said outstanding young people should get out and see more of the world, and not have eyes only for beautiful maidens’ chests and thighs.”

Professor Prang said in puzzlent, “Though His Majesty saying sothing like that truly surprised a bit. Did you say sothing to him?”

“...D-did I?” Muen’s mouth twitched.

“Maybe His Majesty has a cute side.”

“In any case, choosing you to go is the result of multiple factors. Moreover...”

Professor Prang looked at Muen, once again showing that °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° sa half-smile, half-not strange expression:

“If you can actually establish a connection with the Saintess, it’ll benefit your reputation, the Campbell family, the Academy, and even Princess Celicia and the entire Empire. You might call it a multi-win.”

“What virtue or ability do I have!”

Muen’s eyes brimd with tears.

It did sound like a multi-win.

But the prerequisite was that he wouldn’t be arrested and burned to death in the Holy City for colluding with an Evil God and ruining a holy sword!

“Shouldn’t this sort of thing be left to our Academy’s most outstanding students? For example, that Ai-so-and-so in my year—soone as excellent as her, who can take on ten at once, is the kind of talent who can showcase our Academy’s outstanding spirit and teaching standard! Sending wast— a good-for-nothing wastrel like will only ruin the Academy’s na!”

“Relax. You won’t be the only one going. The list is still being drafted, but the ‘Ai-so-and-so’ you ntioned will likely have a slot. Her excellence is indeed clear to all. However...”

Professor Prang paused, then said, “As for your excellence—that’s not from .”

“Mm?”

“It’s from His Holiness the Pope, who wrote to the Academy in his own hand, lavishly praising your excellence. He stated outright that Muen Campbell is a talent seldom seen on the entire continent, highly affird your great wisdom in feigning stupidity over the past ten-odd years, and explicitly said he wishes to et you in person.”

“Huh?”

Muen was stunned.

Excellent?

A talent?

Great wisdom in feigning stupidity?

et in person?

?

What kind of joke is this?

Your Holiness, do we know each other? I’m just a duke’s son—what virtue or ability do I have to catch the eye of the person with the highest status on the whole continent?

Look at Ariel—she’s the destiny’s protagonist!

Your Saintess is about to be whisked away by her!

There’s a trap!

Absolutely a trap!

The instinct honed by being screwed over countless tis was blaring like mad. Muen could almost see that damned fate waving and smiling at him.

“I’m still not going! No matter what you say, I’m not going! Absolutely not!”

Muen folded his arms, the very picture of a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.

So what if it’s His Holiness the Pope—he can’t co punish just because I won’t give him face.

I’ve got big thighs to cling to too!

In short, this ti he was determined to play the shut-in!

No one could change that!

...

“You must go!”

The sea of flowers.

Teacher ladomir lay on a soft, squishy beanbag, sipping juice, basking under a little sun of unknown origin, and spoke to Muen with iron-clad certainty.

“Wh-why...”

Muen looked at his own plump, fair thigh as if it were itching to kick him out, and couldn’t help bursting into tears:

“There are so many people who want to kill right now. If I go out, I might die.”

“It’s very simple.”

Teacher ladomir cast Muen a casual glance.

“If you go, you might die.

But if you don’t go...”

She paused.

“You will definitely die.”