The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness
Chapter 211: The Tear-Shedding Serpent (2)
The blade pierced the heart.
There was still confusion on Shali’s face as she lowered her head, watching her own heart being pierced by the one she loved. Coughing blood, she shed sorrowful tears.
“Muen... why... why me... did I... do something wrong?”
“No, Shali, you did nothing wrong.”
Muen studied her, letting out a light sigh. His gaze swept again and again across that pitifully delicate face. With his free hand, he gently caressed her bloodstained pale cheek.
“If you must speak of wrongs, it is only that you never truly existed.”
“Not... exist?”
Shali still couldn’t comprehend Muen’s words. Not exist? I... am I not me?
But then, Muen’s hand grasped that thin oval face of hers, and from it he removed the ill-fitting black-rimmed glasses.
In that instant—
The atmosphere abruptly shifted.
The candle flames flickered wildly. The warmth vanished, replaced in a blink by ghostly cold like corpse fire.
The dishes on the table were no longer fragrant and appetizing, but instead revealed their true hellish form—some kind of monster entrails laid out on plates, grotesque maws writhing, poisonous pupils rolling restlessly.
The charming restaurant transformed in a heartbeat into a sinister ghoul’s lair.
Yet Muen paid none of that any mind. His eyes remained fixed on Shali’s face.
That delicate face was still the same, unchanged by the removal of a mere pair of glasses. But with them gone, her aura was entirely different.
All purity and innocence disappeared. On that makeup-free face, there now exuded an intoxicating, sultry allure.
And that kind of allure, deep in the bone—Muen had only ever seen on one person.
“Long time no see, Miss Banshee.”
Meeting an old acquaintance, of course Muen warmly offered his greeting.
So he twisted the short blade in his hand another turn.
“You don’t look so well. Haven’t been sleeping lately?”
“...Muen Campbell.”
Now those once tender eyes had turned cold, staring hard at him, voice puzzled.
“When... did you notice?”
“When? Probably back at the Academy, when a certain loli teacher told me the Moon possesses the terrifying ability to cast suggestions upon people. Since the Moon has that ability, it’s no surprise Her believers would too. Once I followed that train of thought, many things that had seemed strange before suddenly made sense.
For example—”
Muen pulled out a slip of paper, an address all too familiar to the Banshee.
“The first time you invited me, my mind was entirely on my date with Senior. I’m not some breeding stallion walking on two legs, so how could I, at that time, possibly accept an address you handed me? Even if you shoved it on me, when I think back, I could have refused in countless ways, couldn’t I?
And later, during the date, I ‘accidentally’ ended up choosing your shop? What a coincidence. My memory might be bad, but not so bad that I’d suddenly forget your place’s address at that moment.”
“Just because of that?”
The Banshee coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“Not only that. What first made me suspicious was—wasn’t Shali’s affection toward me far too sudden? So sudden it was as if influenced by something.”
“You’re the son of a Duke. Isn’t it perfectly normal for some girl to set her sights on your power and status and throw herself at you?”
“It is normal.”
Muen sighed.
“But Shali’s feelings were far too sincere, weren’t they? So sincere there wasn’t a trace of falsehood. That kind of love, how could it be born after only a few encounters? This isn’t some smut where you tumble into bed in three chapters and bare your heart in five.”
“I see.”
A flash of realization crossed the Banshee’s eyes.
“So it was me who overdid it.”
“You’re the kind of ruthless one who would even cast suggestions on yourself to infiltrate the Academy unnoticed. If you’d only acted a little, maybe you’d have fooled me. But who could have guessed you really created a persona that fell for me? I know very well what reputation Muen Campbell has. For someone like you to suddenly throw yourself at me—how could I not be on guard?
Not to mention, when you later met me under your true face, you even acted all familiar. Honestly, I only know a handful of girls at the Academy. A simple process of elimination was enough to show you had a problem.”
“So you resisted my suggestions all along?”
The Banshee let out a bitter smile.
“You truly are nothing like the rumors, Muen Campbell.”
Her complexion grew paler still, her breath weakening, her life seeming close to its end.
“Likewise. Against a poisonous snake like you, how could I ever relax my guard?”
“Cough, cough... I had hoped to watch you die in unwillingness, but instead I gave you the chance to strike me first. How disgraceful.”
“So then, how about you hurry up and die?”
Muen’s short blade had already twisted nearly one full turn, Holy Light pouring in, filling the air with a foul, scorched stench. By now the Banshee’s heart must have been shredded beyond recognition by blade and light alike.
With such a wound, even that beast tamer earlier would have died ten times over.
But suddenly, the Banshee’s lips curved into a strange smile.
“Perhaps... you should have cut my...”
Before the words finished, a flash of cold gleam passed.
Her smile froze. Before she could finish her sentence, her vision spun.
Her head rolled to the ground, her eyes still holding confusion and unwillingness.
In his other hand, Muen held another pure-white short blade. With a flick, he shook the blood free, face expressionless.
“I was ready long ago.”
With that, he casually flung aside the headless corpse whose heart had been pulverized, and stepped past the fallen head, moving forward.
Perhaps because the false scene around them had lost its sustaining power, everything suddenly shifted.
The cramped restaurant vanished, replaced once more by the sinister Lower City streets. Rain poured in torrents. The source of that chilling aura was drawing ever nearer.
Muen’s heartbeat quickened. By instinct, he felt it—he was very, very close to Senior.
Now that the Banshee was dead, next he only had to—
“Really now, couldn’t you let me finish speaking?”
A cold gust swept past, blowing Muen’s wide-brimmed hat far away. But Muen had no time to care for it. His pupils shrank; his racing heartbeat nearly skipped a beat.
He stopped in his tracks, both hands clutching Elizabeth tight, veins bulging on the backs of his hands.
That voice...
Impossible.
Decapitated, heart shredded—what creature in this world could survive such mortal wounds?
“Kkhhh...”
Yet that bewitching giggle rang out clear as ever.
Expressionless, Muen turned back.
He saw the Banshee, unbothered, reattaching her head to her neck and even giving it a playful twist.
“What a pity, Muen Campbell. If you hadn’t been in such a rush and let me finish, you’d have known—I was saying you should have cut my head, not my neck.”
The words looked similar, but their meaning was utterly different.
“Because—”
The Banshee pointed at her own head with a seductive smile, then tore open her own clothes without hesitation.
Muen had no chance to take in the intoxicating view. The next moment, the Banshee casually tore open her abdomen as though it were nothing more than removing clothes.
Flesh split. Ribs showed. Revealing... nothing.
Not even a heart—inside her belly there was not a single organ.
Chuckling, the Banshee said:
“Because, except for the brain I still need to think, I offered everything else... to the glorious Moon.”