Disqualified as a Villainess - Chapter 48

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#48.

“You’d do well to watch your tongue. There are forces at work behind this that you couldn’t possibly imagine. Don’t even think about causing trouble.”
At my words, Count Hertan pressed his lips together and nodded.
It wasn’t a lie that there were powerful backers and a faction executing grand designs.
After all, I had the dual-personality alcoholic Admiral as an ally, and my family would soon become my backing and my power.
When Count Hertan mentioned he’d arranged for two clergy members he’d smuggled out to wait for us, Uriana and I made our way to the Garden.
I noticed Uriana’s shoulders rise sharply as she spotted someone.
“Dian, Janes.”
Uriana rushed toward the two figures standing in the Garden.
Both clergy members had youthful faces, as if they’d only recently come of age.
The moment I saw their appearance, I frowned.
Both had blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to shimmer with a violet tint, along with virtuous expressions.
Combined with the information about continually petitioning the Admiral… they were trying to lure clergy members with appearances similar to mine and invite them to the Night Monastery.
After the difficult time they’d endured, the three of them embraced one another.
“I thought I’d never see the Saint again.”
“Thank you for holding on and believing.”
Watching the original story’s villainous supporting character, the Saint, moved to tears felt oddly strange.
Unlike characters in books whose identities are determined by text alone, real people possessed multifaceted dimensions.
Uriana said she’d cared for children from the Orphanage like herself, treating them as younger siblings.
Regardless of blood ties, it seemed everyone yearned to experience familial bonds.
“I’m truly sorry. Because of me, you were driven out of the Temple.”
As Uriana stroked their hair in apology, both shook their heads.
“It was never really our place to begin with. As long as we’re all together, it doesn’t matter where that is.”
Uriana’s eyes, which had widened, suddenly brimmed with tears again.
I recalled a saying: if you feel lonely within a group, that’s not your place; conversely, if you find joy within a group, that is your place.
One of my previous life’s Researchers had told me that.
Having your place wasn’t about position or fame—it was ultimately about someone’s heart that embraced you.
‘Uriana, from now on you must listen well to what I say and live long with your siblings, yes?’
While I harbored these sinister yet virtuous thoughts and recited the closing remarks of a nature documentary, the clergy member named Dian wiped away tears and spoke.
“Saint, the young Priests are alive. Just before their execution, orders came from someone of high rank to send them to the Imperial Poorhouse.”
“Really?”
Uriana turned to me again, her face radiant with emotion.
It wasn’t me.
“I’m not a person of high rank but of low rank, and I don’t possess such refined humanitarian compassion.”
I made excuses like a machine asking only for oil.
“And my secretary should be waiting at the back entrance. Go now.”
“What about you, Sister?”
“Worry about yourself—you’re a fugitive death row inmate.”
The coercive effect of my threat against Count Hertan wouldn’t last long.
My reason, crushed beneath fear, would belatedly begin calculating the cost of my mistake.
I tried to hurry them along, sensing the danger of a favorable impression bombardment, but Uriana seized my hand firmly.
“Thank you. I’ll share my true name with you. It means I’m dedicating my faith and devotion to you as a believer.”
Children who enter with the potential to become a Saint sometimes receive a new name.
“I’m not religious, so I don’t need it. I’ll just call you Experimental Subject Number Two.”
Don’t bestow such things upon me.
I didn’t want to know her true name, which carried the legacy and fate of the persecuted and exiled Saint Uriana from history.
“It’s Febrien.”
She smiled beautifully with an expression I’d never seen from her before.
“It means a fairy bidding farewell to winter. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

Favorability increased [+2,000]

Thus, bombarded with favorability by the beautiful fairy, I gazed into the void and muttered.
“Friends…”

The

Second
Sin,

The
Unqualified

Orphan
Number
Two
Result

Outcome
Won
myself
2
Deep

End
Too

–

Salvation
and

draws closer to truth.

***

After Uriana departed, I found myself staring at the system window that materialized before me, lost in thought.
Wasn’t ‘truth’ the ultimate destination all Alchemists aspired to reach?
“What’s drawing closer?”
I glanced around my surroundings.
Still no magical power, and I hadn’t evolved into the strongest ability user either.
All I could discern was that I was currently undergoing trial by some unidentified entity. Could this be karmic retribution from my past life?
‘At least through equivalent exchange, it didn’t take away my favorability points. I should be grateful for that.’

Current total unfavorability: [8,200]

The unfavorability Keldi had given me was ‘012,486’—numbers that resembled a password or message—but after sleeping and waking, it had reverted to normal units.
Rustle.
Absorbed in my thoughts, I sensed a presence and turned around.
The first thing that came into view was a multitude of gun barrels pointed directly at me.
“My goodness.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
Among those wielding guns, Hugo Winterford, who held a position akin to chairman of the Night Monastery, stood with his hand casually tucked into his trouser pocket, leaning at an angle.
“Duke, it’s this woman! She assaulted me and threatened me, then forcibly extorted the deed to my land!”
Count Hertan, now a disheveled mess, pointed at me and made his accusation.
He had conveniently omitted the part about the missing Clergy member—clearly unfavorable to his case.
Whether he had dismissed my warning or feared losing the land with the gold mine more than some unknown force, I couldn’t say.
“You’ll pay the price for ignoring my warning.”
At my cold voice, I saw Count Hertan flinch.
Hugo exhaled a shallow sigh and removed his glasses.
“Count. I’ll handle this myself, so why don’t you head back inside.”
“If you would just retrieve the deed transfer documents that were forcibly signed, I’ll do whatever you ask.”
After the Count bowed and left, Hugo walked toward me and brought his nose close to my neck, speaking softly.
“You’ve changed your perfume.”
He then lifted the mesh lace veil covering my face and asked in a low voice.
“Whether you fool around recklessly or drink yourself senseless is your business, Octavia, but making such a spectacle of your presence is problematic. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were here?”
I lifted my shoulders in a casual shrug.
“I came to see you anyway, so it doesn’t matter if you noticed. Besides, you seem to have taken quite an interest in me over the years. You even remember the perfume I used to wear.”
If I’d truly wanted to avoid detection, I would have come in complete disguise like Uriana.
At my casual, informal tone, his eyes sharpened into slits, and his expression turned decidedly unimpressed.
“Either you’re fearless when facing someone who could destroy your family’s business, or your head is simply empty.”
As the representative of an exclusive raw materials supply company, he delivered his arrogant remark with practiced ease.
“Unfortunately, my taste runs toward obedient, demure women, so a willful, savage creature like you wouldn’t even qualify as a concubine. A venomous serpent isn’t a pet, after all.”

Favorability Increased [+10]

This man was saying his taste ran toward willful, savage viper women.
“I prefer refined men like the Admiral, so why are you presupposing the possibility that I’d be with you?”

Unfavorability Increased [+10]

And this man seemed to have received a slight wound from my words.
“How dare you speak informally to the Marquis—don’t you value your own life!”
His loyal subordinate erupted with a roar.
Gun barrels reflecting the cool moonlight still remained trained on me.
Honestly, from Hugo Winterford’s perspective, my death wouldn’t be much of a problem.
Whether I died from taking the wrong medicine while indulging in excess, or met an accidental death while drunk, he could fabricate a plausible reason easily enough.
I smiled thinly.
“Even if I do have a tendency toward high-risk investments and gambling, I don’t act without a plan.”
Hugo’s lips curled upward as he seized my throat.
“Is that why you’re standing before guns—because you have a plan? Or is it that your corrupted nature makes you willing to sacrifice yourself in place of those who fled?”
“It’s simply a foreseeable variable.”
I placed both my hands over his hand gripping my throat, clasping them together.
Crack.
His eyes widened slightly at my unexpected action of applying pressure to strangle myself, but seeing me still smiling, he laughed as if finding it absurd.
“It seems the rumors about the Admiral’s unusual tastes weren’t entirely false.”
I felt Hugo’s grip tighten. Blood rushed to my face and my vision blurred. I opened my eyes wide, the whites now crimson with burst capillaries.
“…That’s…precisely…what they call an anomaly…”
Screech—
A golden arc flashed past like lightning, accompanied by a bone-chilling sound.
Hugo’s leisurely expression hardened instantly into stone.
The section of his arm below the elbow, still gripping my throat, cleanly separated. The severed hand fell away limply, a sensation both eerie and surreal.
Dark crimson blood streamed downward, pooling on the ground.
Everyone fell into a frozen silence, overwhelmed by the chilling current that seemed to dominate the very space itself.
As I stumbled backward, something solid and unyielding—like a wall—pressed against my back.
“Summoning me to a place like this.”
I lifted my head at the sound of a deep, measured voice exhaling in exasperation. The figure I had backed into was Kelsedny Admiral, impeccably dressed in a suit and overcoat.
Regardless of his temperament, this man—bound by the condition of saving me whenever death drew near—was my contingency, my irregularity.
“Darling… No, damn it. Octavia.”
It seemed two strong-willed personalities within him were warring, and he ultimately settled on calling me Octavia with a curse.
In any case, it was clear he was absolutely furious.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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