How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?
Vol 3. Chapter 3: Progress Stalled
“Ah, Your Highness—it’s fine, it’s fine. I was just strolling the street and happened to run into this brother here. Felt like we totally vibed, so I couldn’t help but come say hi.” The male student—Ank—switched faces the instant he saw Isatia, grinning like a dog spotting its master. He even gave Vinny’s shoulder a friendly pat.
“We don’t vibe. Thanks.” Vinny knocked the hand away. “And who told you to lean in that close? And keep trying to put your hands on me? What exactly are you doing? Do you have some unspeakable little kink? Sorry—I’m not blue-eyed. Men don’t interest me. You’ve got the wrong guy. Kindly, smoothly, put three meters of air between us.”
“Hey now, Young Master Vinny, that’s a little disrespectful, isn’t it?” Vinny wouldn’t play along—and kept calling him blue-eyed to boot. Ank’s taut, skin-deep smile was downright creepy.
Oh? Is that a threat for this young master?
What a joke. It’s one thing to be cautious around fated heroines. But you—some small-fry out of nowhere—think you can scare the capital’s infamous delinquent of Camella?
He’ll give ground to a fated heroine. But to a small-fry, too? Then what’s the point of the title “delinquent”?
“Respect? I’ll serve you a scallion pancake and fritter while I’m at it. I don’t even know you. You waltz up and grab at me looking for trouble. Do you think you’re a pretty girl? You expect me to be cowed? Try a mirror and see if it can fit that big face—scram. However far your thoughts run, run that far.”
He rolled his eyes and let it rip—point-blank, no quarter.
He’d been walking in peace and some clown with no beef at all stopped him to stir the pot. That’s just begging to be flamed.
For this sort of dimwit, he had no nice words—just open fire.
Public place? Crowd gathering to watch? Isatia right there?
Tch. Why should he care? You mess with him, he doesn’t care who’s watching. Lice don’t itch when you’ve got a lot; his reputation’s already what it is—what’s there to worry about?
Talking trash is bliss. Keep talking trash, keep the bliss coming!
[Virtue +10.]
[Current Virtue: 8944.]
Huh??
Seeing the Virtue tick, Vinny was puzzled. What’s this about? Why the increase? Who gave it? Don’t tell him it was Isatia??
A moment later it clicked—who else could it be? Her Highness probably hadn’t heard strings of abuse like that in her life; novelty points scored.
“You—”
“Ank. Who sent you?” Isatia spoke before he could, voice even and unhurried. Those noble eyes settled on Ank, pressing down with an inexplicable weight.
“Well, Your Highness, I told you—I just happened to be passing by, saw this brother here and felt a connection, so I—”
“Oritz, wasn’t it?” Isatia cut in, calm as ever.
“No. I’m out alone today, just wandering. Nothing to do with Young Master Oritz.” Surprise flickered in Ank’s eyes, but he kept stonewalling.
It was a flimsy act. It wouldn’t fool Isatia.
“Tsk. Flatcake-face, I’m begging you—drop the act. That bargain-bin performance? Even I can’t watch from the side, and you think you’re fooling anyone?”
Watching Isatia gather herself to speak again, Vinny jumped in.
You only know the difference between fine and coarse grain after you’ve chewed bran. After binge-watching Aesphyra’s acting, he could see exactly how far an in-school amateur lagged behind her level.
And after years of enduring Mirexia’s suitors—snubs and stink-eye alike—he’d learned all the tells.
“So this Oritz sent you, right? Let me guess—you’re a junior scion from some minor house under House Oritz?”
“I don’t know any Oritz, never met him. But going by this, House Oritz must be sitting on a decent title. In Tyrel, are we talking marquess or duke?”
“And he sent you because he was in the library just now, right?” Vinny mused aloud.
Isatia’s gaze had already shifted to Vinny, silent.
[Virtue +30.]
[Current Virtue: 8974.]
“Stop making things up.” Ank’s face changed.
“Oh? Judging by that reaction—bingo. Brother, listen up. I’m not afraid of offending people, but I’ll say this for your sake alone.” Vinny put on a solemn air, as if he truly meant to help.
“When you get back, tell this Young Master Oritz of yours to stop pulling stunts like this. Honestly—it’s stupid. It makes him look gutless.”
“At this point anyone with eyes can see what’s on his mind. Probably he’s the only one still pretending, putting on airs of restraint.”
“But seriously—how does a young master of a ducal or marquess house have so little confidence?” Vinny cocked his head, arms folded.
“I don’t get it. Raised with everything handed over, basking in the family’s halo like the world revolves around him—so why the cowardice?”
“If you want to pursue someone, do it openly. What’s with all the snares? Never mind dragging an unrelated bystander like me into it—does he pull this trick every time there’s a rival? Nudge the other guy to ‘know his place’ and back off? He’s so practiced at it this can’t be his first time, right?”
“Scheming to scare off every competitor so he can ‘win’—never once thinking to level himself up. Why not rely on your own charm, your actions, your sincerity, and pursue a girl in the open? Got all your brainpower sunk into petty plots?”
“Tiptoeing like a gentleman when he’s ‘pursuing,’ terrified of being seen through—when even a blind man can read him. But the second a rival appears, he swings for the throat, no mercy. I’m telling you, a man like that will hit his ceiling fast and stay there.”
“How little confidence does it take to only dare run on a track with no competition? Cunning as they come, sure—but no confidence, no grit, no charisma that’s truly his. If I were a girl, I’d look down on him.”
He wasn’t only addressing Oritz—he had a certain son of the Dragon-Knights’ commander in mind, too.
It didn’t just leave Ank stupefied. Plenty of onlookers who knew exactly who Oritz was stared at Vinny in shock.
“If I were him and wanted to pursue a girl, I’d show sincerity and my real self. If you like me, come closer. If you don’t, then my pursuit is wasted anyway. So what if you don’t? There are so many people in this world. Those who like me—that’s fate. Those who don’t—I can’t help it. Who’s ever made every person on earth like them?”
Isatia said nothing, watching Vinny—her eyes shifted, just slightly.
[Virtue +100.]
[Current Virtue: 9074.]
Huh? Why the sudden big jump?
Vinny clocked the change, baffled.
Was that from Isatia? If so, that was the single largest Virtue grant she’d ever given him.
But had he said anything that would stir her emotions that much? Not really.
He’d just been roasting the clown behind the scenes. Was it because that clown and Isatia were on decent terms—and she got mad?
Doesn’t seem like it.
“Vinny, are you misunderstanding something? I told you—I’m out alone today just—”
“Don’t do this again. And tell Oritz not to do it again either.” Isatia cut off Ank’s tight-lipped protest. Her voice stayed level, but it carried the pressure of royalty.
“Your Highness, I—” Faced with that gaze, Ank’s mouth opened and no words came. He knew the longer he stayed, the worse it would get. He shot Vinny a venomous look and slunk off.
“The Empire’s nobles have made you laugh,” Isatia said as she approached, voice cool.
“It’s fine. I find them pretty entertaining.” Vinny looked utterly unruffled.
Once Camella’s trash-talk king starts, he doesn’t stop. He’d had his fun today.
Isatia inclined her head and left. Both of them tacitly acknowledged their relationship was limited to “shield” and “tutor.”
Isatia liked books and libraries; Vinny made an ideal decoy. He could benefit too. Mutual need, nothing more.
School hadn’t started yet. After dinner—Shicodale had cooked—Vinny met up with Ferdy and the others for a few rounds of cards. Whatever else, Mirexia would need time to prepare. For now, life as usual.
He didn’t idle, though. Whenever he had free time he holed up in the alchemy room Mirexia provided, transformed into Vanessa, and studied alchemy—laser-focused on curative-class alchemical tonics. Everything else could wait; this was the goal.
Mirexia knew he’d brew in Vanessa’s form—and how disastrous discovery would be—so the lab she’d procured was extremely secure. No intrusions.
Reliable childhood friend. Her arrangements were genuinely reassuring.
Shicodale did find it odd. Vinny hadn’t been home at night for a while. Sure, term hadn’t started, but it still felt strange to him.
Vinny knew that if this kept up, Shicodale would get suspicious. He used “increasing student council workload” as an excuse, even had Mirexia backstop the lie. The sweet dummy bought it quickly.
After a spell, the materials Mirexia had shipped from the Kingdom of Camella arrived, and Vinny began refining.
In downtime he studied as Vanessa. As Vinny—single-core processor—his focus was, well, you know. Concentration just wouldn’t hold.
But that cadence had a problem. The constant switching wrecked his efficiency. He was shocked to discover that what Vanessa learned stuck—and then bled away when he reverted to Vinny. The decay was brutal; only scraps remained.
So, to avoid “learn and forget, forget and relearn,” he made a decision that flew in the face of tradition.
Until the official start of term, he would remain as Vanessa in the alchemy room to study.
Before disappearing, he prepped Shicodale: for certain reasons he wouldn’t be home for an extended period. Thankfully, as the undisputed queen of “easy to coax” among fated heroines, Shicodale was quick to accept it.
He wasn’t hiding things from Shicodale because he doubted his character—but because he doubted his intelligence.
See? He swallowed a ridiculous excuse like that. Could Vinny possibly tell him the truth?
And so Vanessa stayed in the lab for a long stretch. Much of what Elusha had granted her was veiled; to keep Vanessa from breaking under it, the memories had to be absorbed slowly.
Aesphyra had been lucky. Among the sliver of usable formulas that surfaced, there just happened to be Kiss of the Blessing Angel—the so-called life-saving elixir.
It seemed the recipe had been lost. Even if it hadn’t, and someone had a record of it, no one could actually brew it—because no one could provide Blessing Angel’s Essence.
And the difficulty was as high as expected—three grades:
Two-Wing Kiss, Four-Wing Kiss, and Six-Wing Kiss.
As for which grade Aesphyra had fed him back then, Vanessa didn’t know. She only knew that, right now, she could attempt Two-Wing—because she herself had only two wings.
Two-Wing was far less demanding than Four- or Six-Wing—but still brutally hard. It was a life-saving elixir, after all.
Even with Vanessa’s terrifying learning talent, the Two-Wing brew kept failing—always blowing up right before the critical final addition of Essence.
If a once-in-a-century genius like Vanessa couldn’t clear it yet, then trying it in Vinny’s body? How many years just to reach the threshold? How many rare materials burned?
Forget the time and effort. The shattered high-grade crucibles and consumed reagents alone were a bill even a rich house couldn’t foot.
By the time she succeeded, Aesphyra would be peanut butter.
Without Mirexia—the Princess of Camella—backing her, “Angel’s Kiss” was a fantasy at this stage.
Aesphyra really was blessed by fortune. Miss a single condition, and it was over.
Then Vanessa hit another wall.
Too many failures. Even with experience piling up, Mirexia’s batch of materials ran low—and the crucibles were gone. This recipe demanded absurd crucible specs. Ordinary ones couldn’t hold. Even the higher-grade crucibles burned through durability fast under those precious reagents.
Vanessa let out a long breath.
Good thing the Essence went in last—and every failure had come at the last step. Otherwise she’d have bled out by now.
But now she had a problem.
Mirexia would need time to marshal another shipment. By then, term would begin, and Vanessa couldn’t stay cloistered in the lab day and night.
And Mirexia wasn’t a bottomless well. Just because she was kind, willing to help, and his childhood friend didn’t mean he could sheer her like a sheep forever.
She’d provided the crucibles, the lab, the materials—all out of her own assets. Whether or not the sum was significant for her, she had gone all-out.
Vanessa was embarrassed to keep asking.
Which meant the Angel’s Kiss progress had stalled.
What now? She couldn’t revert yet.
Even she was at a loss.