Disqualified as a Villainess - Chapter 60

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

#60.

If one lacked ability, then one simply provided capital or technical support as compensation and made use of those who possessed it.
Everything was equivalent exchange, after all.
This was Octavia’s worldview, unbounded by conventional thinking.
“Let’s board the transport. My voluntary slaves number two, three, and four.”
“Please refrain from such impure remarks toward Holy Knights.”
Ewain expressed his displeasure while following her.
“Hey, you’re treating the Saint Man like a slave too? The God of Order might strike you down for that.”
At Logan’s words, Matteo gazed at Octavia with benevolent eyes.
“My, what a charming little child.”
Febrien, a former member of the clergy who understood religious curses, quickly clarified.
“Ah, biological weapon number one is the Admiral, and the two of them plus me make number four, so the Saint Man wouldn’t be included.”
“Young beauty, it seems I shall soon be designated as number five.”
Where on earth had she procured this pretty boy with the pink hair, another capable individual?
Several observers, captivated by the mysterious youth’s appearance, wondered aloud.
Those watching the situation still stood speechless.
“So… the commoner Ludovisi Family has been recruiting these handsome men, no—these powerhouses?”
Those who had witnessed knowledge and capital override social status wore dumbfounded expressions.
Prince Dominic, who had concentrated all the high-level ability users into Chloe’s squadron, furrowed his brow deeply.
“I hold authority over personnel assignments. Who changed the roster without my consent?”
Octavia shrugged and pointed to the Officer who had been seated beside her during the meeting.
“Didn’t we all hear together that organizing conditional private military units was possible?”
“Ah, well…”
Confronted with testimony from this woman he was seeing for only the second time, the Officer could not hide his bewilderment.
Recalling the Duke, the Holy Knight Commander, the Saint Man, and her lover the Admiral, he quickly made his decision and nodded.
“That’s correct.”
At this, Prince Dominic’s brow deepened with displeasure.
“No such authorization was ever granted, and group organization permits fall outside my jurisdiction. Approval from the relevant authorities is required.”
Logan, who had been listening quietly, smiled knowingly and tilted his head.
“We’re taking leave.”
“Does taking leave transform the illegal into the legal?”
“I mean we’re not actually joining Octavia’s slave merchant company—we’re taking extended leave with our subordinates and vacationing at the Western Border. Do you not understand jokes?”
Since Prince Dominic was certain to nitpick and complain, Logan had already filed for extended leave.
During leave, whether he helped with labor, captured a suddenly appearing Chaos Entity, or did anything else was entirely his prerogative.
Ewain also explained the legitimacy in a solemn tone.
“I have received operational authorization from the Temple. I am free to accompany whomever I choose.”
Since the Holy Temple Society, a branch of the Imperial Church, followed Imperial sacred law rather than Kingdom law, this too was a matter beyond reproach.
Then Matteo, standing with arms crossed, continued smiling with undiminished compassion.
“Troubled one, would you truly attempt to obstruct with mere administrative power the steps of a Saint seeking the myriad stars of knowledge in the wilderness? This would be a matter to split one’s head like the Red Sea.”
Though her voice was as gentle as a hymn, Febrien flinched—only she understood the true meaning beneath those honeyed words: *You madman, how dare you obstruct the Saint’s path? Do you want your head crushed?*
Matteo held Chloe’s gaze and continued speaking with deliberate slowness.
“There is ample reason to go there—if only to discern whether the seven miracles wrought by one seated in the Saint’s position are genuine, or merely the deceptions of a false prophet wielding ninth-rank consecration abilities to deceive the world.”
Chloe bit her lip, then released it, her eyes darting away before returning to the Saint Man’s face.
Having followed her constantly these past days, questioning the changes in her abilities and watching her as though under surveillance, he had driven her to the brink of nervous exhaustion.
‘But the latent potential within me is real.’
Unrecognized though she might be, she possessed the confidence of self-belief.
Perhaps even an intuition that this mission could transform the course of her entire life.
As Chloe steadied her resolve, her green eyes turned toward Octavia.
The other onlookers cast gazes of jealousy and admiration upon the common woman who walked surrounded by handsome, distinguished nobles.
They whispered that she must have recruited them through coercion or lobbying—some base method—yet the atmosphere between them suggested otherwise.
“Logan, the Western Border’s specialty is broccoli, apparently.”
“I never said I liked broccoli. Why are you deciding my tastes for me?”
“Captain Ortega, picky eating is wrong. You must consider the toil of the farmers who cultivate broccoli….”
“Holy Knight Commander, do you not consider the sacrifice of the broccoli itself? Perhaps you should meditate in silence.”
Octavia, listening to their banter, turned to Julia.
“What do you think, Squadron Leader Julia?”
“What sort of opinion am I supposed to offer here?”
“And you, Febrien?”
“I’m someone who once ate things fallen on the ground, so I’m not picky. I eat well.”
In Chloe’s eyes, Febrien appeared as though she truly belonged among these companions.
Why would talented individuals attach themselves to such an arrogant, self-righteous woman?
It was incomprehensible.
‘But the Commander was supposed to be my person.’
Beyond incomprehension, the sting of having her own person stolen away pierced through her.

***

Western Border.
The Ludovisi Family had collaborated with construction and military supply houses to establish temporary encampments with barracks at five strategic locations—three above and two below where signs of activity had emerged—and constructed makeshift portals connecting the outposts to the central base.
The Central Base served as the command headquarters and the primary gathering point where the expedition members and laborers resided. Previously, it had been an extraordinarily desolate place, but now…
“You built all this in such a short time?”
“These are the families who rebuilt a destroyed city in four days.”
The soldiers could not hide their astonishment and admiration at the technology that had constructed a fully equipped settlement with supply lines, medical facilities, and living infrastructure in such a brief span.
Upon arriving at the Central Base, the personnel stood before their squadron-assigned quarters.
Inside the immaculate buildings were clean beds, shower facilities, and a dining room.
“This is optimal mission conditions.”
“Normally when we deploy to the Chaos Realm, we can’t even wash ourselves and shiver in field camps eating rotten fruit we scavenge.”
“The Duke mentioned vacation for a reason. Even if the Chaos Realm opens, it’ll only be low-level, so we can just rest here and leave. I’m truly moved by the Prince’s consideration.”
Everyone knew it was thanks to the Ludovisi Family’s wealth rather than the Prince’s arrangements, but acknowledging a commoner’s contribution would wound their pride.
“Ah, that must be the Prince’s Temporary Residence over there.”
Someone pointed to the largest and most luxurious mansion. With its well-manicured garden and even a swimming pool, it resembled a vacation villa far more than an official residence.
Yet Octavia boldly opened the mansion’s doors and stepped inside, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Slaves. This is the hovel you’ll be staying in.”
It was not the Prince’s residence at all—it was the quarters where Octavia and the Northeast Squadron would be lodging.
‘Who gives slaves accommodations like this?’
Everyone’s expressions turned bewildered.
“Wait, why do only you get to enjoy luxury?”
Forgetting their earlier satisfaction, a member of Chloe’s squadron voiced their complaint about the apparent unfairness.
Octavia’s face showed complete incomprehension.
“Luxury? Even my family’s bathrooms are nicer than this.”
“If that’s a bathroom, then where we stay is a pen! At least differentiate by rank! These lowest-tier commoner trash get to eat and sleep better than me?”
A troublesome complainant pointed accusingly at Octavia’s squadron members while shouting at the top of their lungs.
Octavia touched her hair with an indifferent expression.
“It’s my choice. If you’re unhappy, become one of my squadron members.”
“I’ll report to the Prince that you’re undermining expedition morale.”
She twisted one corner of her mouth into a contemptuous smile.
“In a limited territory, power divides into two categories: force and resources.”
Octavia, who effectively controlled both, continued in a measured tone.
“I am the owner of every facility and living area here, and the quartermaster who controls the distribution of supplies.”
Logan, a soldier who understood the importance of resources and a quartermaster’s authority, nodded in agreement.
The momentum of the squadron member who had been pressing the issue gradually dissipated.
“However…”
“Northern Team, ten points deducted. Reason: insubordination.”
Octavia spoke with the stern expression of a magic academy professor.
Then, clicking her tongue with a tsk, she gazed at the members of the other squadrons.
“Do you all share the same ungrateful thoughts as that one?”
They exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to respond.
Hearing the commotion, Chloe approached and quickly grasped the situation, stepping forward to intervene.
“These people came here for a mission. Why are you treating them so childishly, making them feel deprived and discriminating against them?”
“Saint Chloe, do you understand what your contingent actually wants?”
“They came on the same mission, so they’re hoping for fair treatment. That’s only natural.”
At this, Octavia turned to address the contingent members beyond Chloe.
“You want treatment that matches your rank and status, correct? You’re rank 5 and a noble, yet you’re upset that a rank 9 is receiving better accommodations than you.”
“That’s correct.”
The contingent member who had first raised the complaint answered.
Octavia smiled as she regarded Chloe.
“Is it truly fair to demand differential treatment based on criteria that favor yourself?”
Seeing Chloe’s lips press together as words failed her, Octavia’s eyes turned cold and sharp.
“You’re staying in the Prince’s Temporary Residence, yet you don’t dare open your mouth about that—and now you come to me spouting nonsense about equality?”
Though not as lavish as this place, I had arranged a mansion befitting royal standards to serve as the Prince’s Temporary Residence.
“I don’t need whiners whose morale drops over such trivial matters. I’ll petition the Regent to reassign you to the Battlefield—where morale is truly abundant.”
At the mention of the Battlefield, where Chaos entities appeared without cessation—a veritable slaughterhouse—the faces of the Northern Contingent members drained of all color.
Octavia’s expression hardened with irritation as she issued her warning.
“Understand this: I am someone who discriminates ruthlessly based on who is mine and who is not. Unless you truly wish to end up in the Human Pen, remember that.”

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