The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness
Chapter 68: The Love God’s Whisper (8)
The wind whipped across his cheeks.
Muen leapt down—hurling himself as if into the arms of the monster.
Àilùkǎ lit up with joy. She reached out to receive him like a gentle wife welcoming her lover home in the dead of night.
It would've been touching, [N O V E L I G H T] if she hadn’t reached out with several hundred hands.
“Anne!”
Timing felt right. Muen roared with all his strength.
And steel answered the call!
A thundering surge of glinting metal burst up from the earth—barbed like a forest of frozen fangs—driving straight into the monster’s body.
Countless razor-edged blades churned and twisted, shredding every inch of grotesque flesh. Steel clashed against flesh with a trembling shriek, a war-symphony forged in blood and iron!
It was like a spiked war chariot ramming into a lump of raw meat—Àilùkǎ’s deformed body tore open in several hideous gashes on impact.
“Ah—!”
Àilùkǎ screamed.
But not in pain.
If anything, it sounded like... pleasure.
Her face—embedded within the writhing mass of flesh—twisted as she looked toward the maid standing firm nearby.
“Master, you really came back?”
“Mhm. I came back, Àilùkǎ.”
Anne exhaled slowly.
She placed her hands together at her abdomen, her posture perfectly straight.
Just like the perfect maid she had always been.
She met Àilùkǎ’s gaze without flinching—Àilùkǎ, who had come terrifyingly close to shattering her mental defenses not long ago. Hundreds of faces wailed and whimpered their love—but this time, Anne's eyes were unwavering.
“I’ve come to save you.”
“Eh? Something about Master feels different. Is it just me?”
Àilùkǎ’s expression flickered with confusion for a second. Then she giggled.
“Ah, who cares? None of that matters. I only need to know that you’re my Master.”
“You’ll accept my love, won’t you? After all, you understand me better than anyone, don’t you?”
“I love you, Master!”
Hundreds of mouths cried out in chorus, voices overlapping and warping as their soundwaves rippled through the air—strong enough to make even the steel tremble.
Her deformed body squirmed again. The gashes healed within seconds, fresh flesh surging along the embedded metal—spreading like rust or rot. Corroded steel lost its shape, withered into brittle ash, and blew away on the wind.
Anne’s eyes darkened. New steel formed at her side, twisting into fresh weapons. She launched them straight at the monstrous form once again.
And Àilùkǎ charged to meet her.
Thus began the next round of their brutal clash.
A beast-against-beast brawl—no end but death.
—
Elsewhere.
Muen sprinted across a bridge of steel, making his way toward Àilùkǎ’s massive head.
In front of him, blades spun and danced—slicing through the grotesque limbs stretching and crawling to block his path like weeds.
But no matter how sharp the blades or how fast they flew, the sheer number of twisted limbs—multiplying endlessly—guaranteed some would slip past.
And even one of those “slip-through-the-net” limbs could choke the breath from your lungs.
Limbs lunged at Muen from all directions, as if trying to seal off every escape route.
A few of the faces turned toward him, grinning with anticipation, as if already picturing the moment his blood became part of them.
Love should be shared, right? So should suffering.
Why should we be the only ones like this.JPG!
“...Guess I’m still being underestimated.”
Muen gave a breathless laugh.
He was the one doing all the monster-luring and aggro-pulling, and yet Àilùkǎ’s attention remained locked onto Anne.
She hadn’t even spared more than a few faces to keep watch on him. As if he wasn’t even a threat.
But was that... bad?
No. It was perfect.
Better than he could’ve ever hoped for.
Slip into the village, shoot without warning.
A plan he never even dared imagine was now being served to him on a silver platter—thanks to Àilùkǎ’s obsession with Anne.
Muen’s lips curled into a wide, silent grin.
He raised both hands, fingers flexing.
Anne, who’d kept a sliver of her attention on him all this time, responded as if on cue—like they shared a mental link.
A pair of curved short swords materialized in Muen’s grasp.
They were weapons he’d previously asked Anne to make for him.
Back when he’d used a cleaver, he’d realized something—while dainty daggers were usually a better match for a female body, he felt more natural wielding heavier short swords with force.
And their design didn’t hinder his Dagger Combat Technique at all.
A total WIN-WIN!
“Take this—Lightning Whirlwind Slash!”
Muen leapt forward. His twin blades crossed in a flashing blur, tearing into the swarm of deformed limbs reaching for him.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
Anne’s craftsmanship was exquisite—the blades bit cleanly.
The grotesque cage of limbs shattered under his strike, a gaping hole torn open in an instant.
New limbs lunged forward to patch the gap.
But they were too late.
Shadow Step!
The signature footwork of a death-bound assassin returned—Muen’s figure blurred into an afterimage too fast to track as he shot through the breach.
Yes, he only knew those three basic moves now.
But damn if they didn’t work.
Flash step with basically no cooldown? Who wouldn’t love it?
As long as no one interrupted him like that Scarface bastard with a weapon skill or something, this move was flat-out unbeatable for mobility!
And what, a divine-corrupted fleshbeast’s gonna use sword techniques on me?
Muen sneered inside.
Now that he’d broken the encirclement, nothing could stop his advance.
He charged ahead, rapidly approaching the massive abdomen where Àilùkǎ’s original head was embedded.
Just a little more!
Muen’s eyes lit up—just two more Shadow Steps, and he’d be right on top of it!
“Just wait, Àilùkǎ—let me give you a real good—eh? EH?”
His triumphant laugh was cut short.
Something was wrong.
His instincts flared.
From within the heap of malformed limbs, something completely different emerged. Like a mutated gene suddenly replaced by a normal one.
No—among all this deformity, the normal one was the freak.
It was an ordinary arm.
Thick. Muscular.
Sinew coiled like steel cable beneath the skin.
The hand opened toward Muen, five fingers splayed wide—then suddenly clenched like a beast’s claw.
In that instant—BOOM!
A thunderclap exploded between its fingers.
Muen’s brain buzzed in shock.
A devastating shockwave came out of nowhere, slamming directly into his chest.
He grunted, breath knocked from his lungs.
His blood and qi surged wildly.
The Shadow Step he’d been about to unleash... fizzled out—interrupted by force.
“What the hell?”
Muen skidded to a stop, staggering, eyes wide as he stared at the arm.
A combat technique.
That was... a goddamn weapon technique.
And even more refined than Scarface’s!
He could understand being silenced so he couldn’t cast, but being flash-canceled?
Huh? HUH?
What is this—League of Legends but horny?
Can we get a skill designer out here to explain the rules?
“Woof.”
Just as Muen’s brain began to spiral into absurdist meltdown from sheer shock—
He heard a bark.
A familiar bark.
“...No way...”
His stunned gaze rose.
The muscular arm dropped. Its wide palm planted against the pulsing flesh. Then—with one powerful push—
A figure began crawling out.
Muen recognized him instantly.
That dog-man.
Àilùkǎ’s husband.
Naked, still wearing those absurd "decorations"—
But the aura around him was nothing like before.
This wasn’t a dog anymore.
It was a beast.
—
ps: Late-night update. Gimme them votes please (。•́︿•̀。)