The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness
Chapter 1013: 205. Black Sun (Final)
He opened His eyes.
Darkness. Emptiness.
“So dark,” He said.
And so firelight ignited, illuminating everything.
The surroundings were no longer dark, but they were still empty. There was nothing.
He walked forward. He did not know how long He walked before finally, at the end of that emptiness, He saw a throne.
What kind of throne was it?
Majestic, towering, as if forged from the bones of the world. Stars circled around it. Mountains were its gems, oceans its veins, and endlessly surging magma its hanging tassels.
He was drawn to the throne and walked toward it.
But the throne was very far away, and very high. If He wanted to reach it, He needed more power.
And so the flames continued to burn, lighting the surroundings brighter and brighter. He felt an unprecedented sense of fullness.
He felt Himself growing taller, larger, gradually becoming suited to that throne, and also gradually drawing closer to it.
Soon, the throne was no longer unreachable. He only needed to cross a staircase built from countless bones, and He would arrive.
He was just about to keep moving forward...
“Young Master, where are you going?”
Someone asked behind Him.
His steps slowed. That voice was like a gentle wind, tugging at him, telling him not to go forward.
But in the end, the wind was still drowned in the void.
He continued forward.
“Oh my, is my junior going on a long trip?”
His figure paused, as if drawn by the voice behind him, but even more clamorous voices immediately surged over, drowning out those words that seemed extremely important.
This could not stop Him from advancing.
“Don’t go, don’t go. It’s so dark over there, so dangerous!”
This voice was sweetly naive and adorable, finally making Him unable to help stopping to think. But in this world, what else was worth making Him think?
Probably nothing...
“Do you want to get kicked?”
He suddenly woke with a start, as if a thunderbolt had burst through His mind, making Him turn back and instinctively chase that misty illusion.
“Hey, you awful guy.”
A girl stood with her hands on her hips and said disdainfully,
“To think you’d be lured by something like that. Have you gotten that weak now?”
“...”
“...”
All the voices disappeared. There was still only silence.
There was no illusion at all. Here, there was only Him, and the deep void.
But he looked toward a certain place and smiled.
A human smile.
“How could I? I’m the yellow-haired villain who can only lose to the protagonist.”
He answered softly.
Behind him, that throne stood high above, drawing him in, overlooking all living beings.
How terrifying was that attraction? Saint Peron V had been willing to pay any price for a mere ordinary throne, let alone the one that had appeared before him, which was higher and farther than any ordinary throne.
It almost symbolized eternity. It symbolized ultimate ascension. It was something far more attractive than all the treasure and all the power in this world.
But that was not what he wanted.
“For a playboy whose head is filled with nothing but black stockings and thighs, this kind of thing is a little too luxurious.”
Muen raised his hand and beckoned. The throne disappeared, and this thing, enough to make anyone covet, obsess, and go mad, turned just like that into a black flame leaping at his fingertip.
“This should be enough to pay the price I owed before.”
He casually tossed that ball of flame into the ancient clock’s phantom nearby, without the slightest reluctance.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
And so the clock hands in the phantom, which had long since stopped, began moving again and very quickly caught up to the correct time.
Muen’s current “nonhuman” phantom also shrank by a large circle, no longer as towering as before.
But this way, instead, he could be closer to the “ground.”
He listened carefully. Those voices became clear. Countless prayers and wishes followed the power of faith, turning into sparks and arriving before him.
“So this is the viewpoint of a god?”
Muen carefully examined those “sparks,” full of curiosity.
Yet before he could figure out the principles by which these things operated or how to use them, he suddenly felt himself sway, and the sparks scattered all over the ground.
He looked down speechlessly and saw that Gaius had charged over and stabbed a strange scepter viciously into the Black Sun.
“I will never... let you... devour this world!” Gaius roared.
...To think he could break through the blockade of the black flames and the corona. With this kind of raw strength and ferocity, as expected, Gaius really was Gaius.
Setting aside the madness, this guy really could be considered an incredible person.
“Then... this is where it ends.”
Knowing there was not much time, Muen temporarily put away [N O V E L I G H T] his playful mood. With a gesture of both hands, he gathered all those enormous “sparks” into his palms.
“It’s time to grant wishes.”
Dong!
An ancient, solemn bell rang out. Countless gears meshed together, and the enormous phantom of a clock constructed from black flames appeared before Muen.
Artificial Authority — Eternal Clock!
Muen quietly gazed at the clock’s phantom. This was the first time he had observed that old little girl’s life’s work from such a close distance.
But in truth, there was no longer much point in observing it, because he could clearly feel the incomparably close connection between himself and this clock. Even this phantom itself had been constructed from his black flames.
This had never happened before.
“Though I don’t know what happened, this should be a good thing in any case.”
Muen smiled, then threw all the “sparks” in his hands toward the clock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
The clock hands began to reverse.
A small whirlpool once again went upstream through the river of time. At the same time, more and more whirlpools appeared, carrying “sparks” with them, and gradually converged into a torrent that changed the course of the entire river.
Within this torrent, some things would change, and everything would begin again.
As for the things that had already been branded, they would never change.
For instance, that faith.
For instance, the black flames deep within their souls.
And so Muen gazed at those countless “little whirlpools” and murmured softly,
“This is... the final reversal of time.”
...
...
“You’re from the Judgment Temple, aren’t you?”
Holy radiance fell along with the crystal chandelier. Amid the choir loudly singing hymns praising the Goddess, Muen narrowed his eyes and finally saw clearly the broad figure enveloped in Holy Light.
Archbishop Ision turned back. His expression was gentle and calm, as if he were looking at a friend.
“You came because of that matter, didn’t you?”
“...”
Muen did not answer. He merely verified the surrounding environment, the current situation, and the memories in his mind bit by bit.
Clearly, this was the end of the Salvation Society plan’s “first stage,” that most important moment connecting what came before and what came after.
All their efforts had to blossom and bear fruit here for the later plot to happen.
So Muen lowered his head and looked at the dagger in his hand.
The dagger named [Absolution].
It possessed the power to slay a Crowned, and at this moment, it was already trembling faintly, as if it could fly out of its sheath at any time and burst forth with terrifying power capable of destroying everything.
But as Muen’s suddenly pitch-black eyes glanced coldly at it, [Absolution] immediately quieted down.
“Nope.”
Muen raised his head again and smiled at the Archbishop.
“I’m here to cheer you on.”
“Cheer me on?”
Archbishop Ision frowned, somewhat unable to understand. “What does that mean?”
“It means this.”
Muen raised a hand and pointed toward the Witch of Repentance, who had walked out with perfectly timed arrival.
“See that old woman? Beat the hell out of her. Don’t hold back for even a shred of old affection, or I’ll tell the Church... your daughter’s secret!”
“...”
The moment he heard the word daughter, Archbishop Ision’s face instantly paled.
As expected, had this man come because of that matter?
And judging by his tone, did he know even more than Ision imagined?
After a brief moment of thought, he looked toward the Witch of Repentance, killing intent surging.
Although they had once been husband and wife, they were already going to tear off all pretenses anyway. For the sake of his daughter... there was nothing else to be done, right?
“???”
The Witch of Repentance, who had only just arrived, felt the killing intent coming from Archbishop Ision and was full of question marks.
She had come to take over the endgame, but the plot... was it not a little wrong?
...
...
“Kill them! Kill them all!”
Inside the carriage, Saint Peron V looked at those Goddess believers prostrating outside the Hall of Rituals in prayer and could not help revealing a cold smile.
He thought, so what if she was the Goddess? He had also been a believer of the Goddess for so long, had prayed to the Goddess so many times, yet the Goddess had never given him eternal life so he could forever remain the Kingdom’s mighty ruler and lead the Kingdom forward.
He was still aging. He still had to face death.
Since that was the case, he could only think of a way himself.
“Olive, wait for me...”
The moment he thought of the reward Olive had promised to give him after he completed these things, Saint Peron V felt his heart burn. He raised his already withered hand and urged his subordinates to act.
“Kill all these people. Hurry.”
“...”
“Hmm? What are you doing?”
“...”
Seeing that after he issued the order, not one of these Royal Guards moved, Saint Peron V immediately grew impatient. “Are you trying to defy...”
Clang—
Metal rang against metal. Cold light flashed. A longsword was held across Saint Peron V’s face.
The icy touch made Saint Peron V swallow the second half of his words. He raised his head in disbelief and looked at the Royal Guards who should have been his most loyal men, now surrounding him one after another and staring fixedly at him with eyes that made his heart go cold.
“They are not praying to the Goddess.”
The leading knight spoke.
“W-What?”
“The one they are praying to is a far greater existence.”
“What are you even talking about?!”
Saint Peron V could not understand what had happened at all, but that clear sense of danger had already made him instinctively respond.
The Grand Barrier’s control core activated. The scenery around him flashed, and he looked around. After confirming that he had already returned to that absolutely safe place, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Damn it. Those soldiers have already betrayed me? Whose work is this? The Empire? The Church? Aurier? Or...”
“It was you, Father.”
“Me? What nonsense. As if I would order them to kill me myse—wait. Who’s there?!”
Saint Peron V jolted and looked toward the corner of the safe room where a second voice absolutely should not have sounded.
“You drove them into a dead end, intended to control their bodies, sacrifice their souls, and slaughter the people they protected. Naturally, they would no longer be loyal to you.”
At the doorway of the safe room, Afrella wore deerskin high-heeled boots and walked over step by step, swaying gracefully.
Each step seemed to tread on Saint Peron V’s heart, making his face gradually turn deathly pale.
“Good morning, my dear Father.”
Afrella smiled brightly.
“I have been waiting for you here for a very long time.”
...
...
“Did you find the answer?”
Pope Hezekiah raised his head and looked at the Judgment Archbishop standing before him.
“I... still don’t quite know.”
The Judgment Archbishop shook her head blankly.
“People are too complicated. Sin, kindness, cowardice, courage... Too many things are combined together, and only then do they form a creature called a human. I can no longer define them at all.”
“Why define them? It is precisely because they are complicated that they can be called human, is it not?”
Hezekiah said, “You have seen too much evil and purged too much evil, so you have grown numb to evil. You even believe that all people... are such unremarkable beings. In the end, you have made the same mistake as Gaius.”
“The same... mistake?” The Judgment Archbishop tilted her head, looking unexpectedly a little cute.
“You lost your awe for the self. Every one of you clearly thinks yourselves extraordinary, yet you look down on your other compatriots. Is that not also... a joke?”
Hezekiah rose and walked along the street corner.
A child suddenly darted out. Perhaps because the ground after the rain was too slippery, the child happened to fall right in front of Hezekiah and began crying.
Hezekiah crouched down, ignoring his own holy robe being soaked by dirty water, and personally helped the child up, soothing him.
“Next, I need to properly ‘comfort’ that junior of mine. After all, he worked so hard for so long, only for everything to come to nothing in the end. I imagine he must very much need someone’s ‘comfort’ right now.”
The corner of Hezekiah’s mouth curved, and then he waved a hand. “I’ll leave this place to you.”
“Eh? Me?” The Judgment Archbishop was shocked. “But I...”
“According to the scripture, apostates should be burned to death by holy fire, but there truly are a few too many apostates in this city right now... and on top of that, I have not yet thought of a candidate for the new Judgment Archbishop.”
Hezekiah looked back and, rarely, smiled.
“So you should continue bearing sin in this position. For you, this should count as quite a good punishment.”
“...”
The Judgment Archbishop blinked blankly.
And His Holiness had already disappeared.
The child from earlier brought his mother looking for him, but could not find the old grandfather who had helped him. And so he came beside the Judgment Archbishop.
“Sister, here.”
In the child’s hand was a bright red balloon.
The Judgment Archbishop accepted the balloon in a daze. Looking at the smiling face on the balloon, she suddenly felt... as if her heart were being cut by knives.
Regret, self-reproach, remorse.
Because she had actually done such an excessive thing. Because she had actually almost caused the sacrifice of every person in an entire city.
At the same time, the guilt from every execution before, the sense of sin stained with blood, the self-reproach over taking lives, all returned.
The Judgment Archbishop felt nauseated, pained, as if even her soul were about to tear apart.
Yet she smiled. Though tears fell from the corners of her eyes, she smiled with incomparable joy.
“Your Holiness, you were right.”
The Judgment Archbishop murmured softly to herself.
For her, this truly was the best punishment.
And so she took out a list.
The names on the list were packed densely together...
Donna, Demon Child, Atael...
After watching from the sidelines for so long, she had not only been a spectator.
Name, appearance, abilities—every detail was recorded.
Casually keeping a diary, after all, was a good habit she had developed as a good child.
However... very soon, many people would understand that being recorded in the Judgment Archbishop’s diary was something more terrifying than death.
...
...
Outside the city, in the Imperial army camp.
A white dove fluttered its wings and landed on Celicia’s arm.
She glanced expressionlessly at the graceful figure who had long been waiting beside her. Without saying anything, she opened the letter delivered by the dove.
“All troops, move out.”
After reading it, she had already swept into the air above the army, drawn the Sword of the King, and pointed it straight at the mighty city not far away.
“Enter the city!!”
Woo—
The horns were blown. The army that had been camped here for ten full days finally drove their unstoppable blade forward.
On the other side, the Church’s elites finally moved as well. Holy Light tore across the sky, forcefully scattering the dark clouds that had been shrouding the city all this time!
An enormous Holy Light array immediately sealed the heavens, cutting off any possibility of any existence praying to an Evil God!
The sky cleared.
At the horizon, the faint light of dawn gradually dyed the sky red.
An ordinary sun was slowly rising.
Sunlight fell, radiating warmth.
The outline of the city appeared so peaceful and beautiful beneath the morning light.
...It seemed this world did not need the Black Sun for now.
...
...
[...]
[...]
[But one day, it will.]
[Divine foundation has been constructed.]
[Other progress: 0%]
[We need to speed up...]
[Keep working hard, Muen Campbell.]
[One day, you will...]
[...]
...
...
End of Volume.