The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 371: I’m Very Capable

The process of joining forces went even smoother than Muen had imagined.

In truth, although most of the participants bore no small grudges against each other—so hadn’t even avenged that recent “butt-groping” incident—everyone knew perfectly well that if they wanted the truly precious things in these ruins, and further rewards from the Church, they had to pass through this Golden Door before them.

Before that, all fighting was aningless.

So, under Freya’s roaming persuasion, over half chose to stay and work together to break the Golden Door.

Of course, the ones truly capable of acting were only those few publicly recognized as proficient in Magic, Alchemy, and Ancient Arrays.

The others were tasked with handling possible accidents. Mm... that was the official line; in reality, they just stood and watched—brawn was useless here.

But as long as they didn’t cause trouble, that was the best outco for this loose alliance where everyone had their own agenda.

...

“Please sign this.”

“What is it?”

Muen looked in surprise at the platinum princess with the aloof air in front of him, and the pitch-black docunt she handed over.

“This is a Death-Deed Writ.”

“A Death-Deed Writ...”

Muen’s brows lifted. He was no longer as ignorant as he had been half a year ago; he imdiately understood what this so-called Death-Deed Writ was.

It was a compulsory contract. Once signed, any violation of its rules brought extrely severe punishnt.

Similar to the divine contracts commonly used by believers, except the executor of a Death-Deed Writ was not so ethereal god, but the dreadful curse attached to the writ itself.

Feeling the clear chill through his fingertips from the docunt, Muen couldn’t help the hairs rising on his arms.

“Bringing out sothing like this...”

He paused, then reacted at once, eting Margarita’s eyes:

“You don’t trust Freya?”

He rembered that this platinum princess also had outstanding attainnt in Magic and seed to be one of those responsible for breaking the door.

“I don’t trust you either.”

Margarita’s face was expressionless, her gaze cold enough to keep people a thousand miles away.

And with a certain faint anger.

...Looks like my indiscriminate personal attacks earlier really did offend her.

Forcing his eyes not to wander—so as not to deliver a second injury—Muen began reading the terms of the Death-Deed Writ carefully.

The general aning was that during the door-breaking process they were absolutely forbidden from attacking each other, and so on. The clauses were extrely ticulous. Muen pondered a while, confird he could find no loophole, and then, after that long string of already-signed nas, he added his own in a luxurious noble cursive, practiced and elegant.

Then Liya—trusting Muen—didn’t bother reading the clauses and signed directly.

After that, the others with Muen.

“Contract sealed.”

When the final na was signed, the entire Death-Deed Writ floated up; orange firelight leapt and slowly consud it.

At the sa ti, Muen felt sothing cold and sinister coil around his neck like a viper, bringing a faint sense of mortal peril.

“Decapitation, is it? I doubt even the Church could get our heads back on before the reaper finishes the job.”

Rubbing his neck, Muen suddenly stopped Margarita, who was about to leave:

“Wait.”

“What else?”

“What do you think of what we said earlier?”

“Earlier?”

A trace of doubt showed on Margarita’s deep features:

“You an...”

“Drop the act.”

Muen’s face was blank:

“Your knight was sneakily eavesdropping on my conversation with Freya the whole ti. I refuse to believe he didn’t report every word to you.”

“Shh, shh, shh~”

At the side, Paul whistled off-key, tilting his head to study the ceiling like there was so rare specin up there worth examining.

“......”

Margarita shot him a vicious glare, fell silent a mont, then said:

“No particular opinion. We’ll do what should be done. Besides, that’s not the only thod.”

“That’s a bit laissez-faire,” Muen said with a wry smile.

“Laissez-faire?”

Margarita pointed to the side:

“Look—that Saintess candidate over there is about to fall asleep.”

Muen turned; sure enough, Miss Phil was already sneaking a nap in the corner.

“......” The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched. He had nothing to say.

And people say I’m the one slacking—clearly soone’s doing it better.

“Moreover, even setting aside all that...”

Margarita gazed deeply at the Golden Door, then said, aningful:

“Up to now, we still don’t even know what exactly it is that’s waiting for us to ‘save.’”

...

“Muen.”

After Margarita left, Liya habitually gave Muen’s sleeve a light tug.

“The condition to beco the Saintess—is it really to save this nation invaded by an Evil God? With just us...”

“What, afraid?”

“No.”

Liya suddenly lowered her head, a little shy, twisting her skirt hem with both hands:

“No... just a bit uneasy. It sounds a little silly, but in all the years I’ve been a Saintess candidate, I’ve... I’ve never actually saved anyone. I can’t compare to the other Saintesses at all—especially Miss Freya. I heard she resolved that plague and saved tens of thousands...”

“Why are you losing confidence again?”

Taking advantage of the mont no one was paying attention, Muen secretly patted Liya’s head:

“Don’t worry. In fact, the years you’ve spent studying hard aren’t any different from what Freya did.”

“Eh?”

“The stronger you are and the deeper your knowledge, the more people you’ll be able to save once you beco the Saintess. Just like your Saintess teacher—she can casually say the nas of a few herbs and save a deathly ill patient. Without rigorous study, you can’t do that.”

“So, no matter what the true condition to beco the Saintess is, no matter which path we must take, what you need to do now is believe in yourself—believe in who you’ve been.”

“Your road was already paved over the past ten years.”

Listening to Muen’s rich voice, Liya lifted her head, feeling the warmth from his palm; countless lights seed to bloom in the depths of her eyes.

“Go.”

Looking at her, Muen showed that sa gentle smile that always put people at ease:

“From now on, let them rember your na.”

“Mhm.”

...

Liya walked up to the awe-inspiring Golden Door.

The door bore not a trace of ornant—like lted, silent iron—yet Liya could clearly feel what biting killing intent hid behind that coldness.

Countless complex matrices, fraworks, alchemical inscriptions, and magical sigils saturated this dead, silent door; a single misstep in the process of breaking it would trigger a severe chain reaction.

And as for that chain reaction—the best-case scenario... might be getting all of them buried alive together.

As for the worst outco... if whoever built this door was ruthless enough, under such a complex chanism, they might not even get a chance to use spatial scrolls to escape.

The pressure was ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) easy to imagine.

“Don’t drag down.”

Liya blinked and looked at the person beside her.

A tall, lanky man in an Origin Tower mage’s robe, a golden badge on his chest, his slanted gaze full of pride.

Revelation School, Narisqi.

As a magical school that studies astrology and the laws of all things, breaking chanisms was their bread and butter; as this generation’s leading figure of the Revelation School, Narisqi naturally had reason for his pride.

Normally, with Liya’s temperant, she would say nothing at a ti like this.

But this ti...

“I won’t drag you down.”

Liya looked into Narisqi’s eyes and seriously refuted him:

“I’m very capable.”

With that, ignoring his surprise, Liya took a deep breath, cleared her mind, and was the first to place both hands on the cold door.