For the Young Villain’s Happy Ending - Chapter 57

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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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Chapter 57

Among those who once dreamed of revenge against Raina Hart, there was an Alchemist.
But hatred alone could not overcome a Grand Mage.
Defeated, the Alchemist fled, leaving behind a single doll.
A cursed doll that inflicted nightmares.

The method was simple: the user would embed their own memories into the doll, designate specific targets, and those targets would be tormented by endless nightmares.

Ten years ago, I had released that doll—which had been sleeping in my dimensional pouch—into the Empress’s Palace.
As a gift of unending nightmares for those who had mocked the Fourth Prince during tea time.

‘I never expected it to be here.’

Following the sound, I arrived at one of the rooms in the corridor whose door had been closed.
The doll was trapped inside a birdcage, carelessly placed.
I unlatched the cage and pulled out the struggling doll.
The small doll, no larger than my palm, was a stuffed figure in human form.
Its crude ink-drawn features seemed almost pathetic.

“Raina Hart.”
“Save me.”
“Monster. You’re a monster.”

Terrified voices spilled from the doll’s O-shaped mouth.
Whispers of nightmares spoken at the bedside of the sleeping.
But in this desolate Separate Palace, was there anyone left to hear those voices?

“…Did Keri bring this here?”

It must have been. The Separate Palace always bore the Emperor’s barrier.
This barren place was perfect for confining such a troublesome nightmare-inducing nuisance.
I placed the doll back in the cage and locked the latch securely.
Through the window, I could see the night sky with clouds drifting across it.

“….”

And I gazed at that scene for a long time.
You, who are in the same Separate Palace, are you seeing this sight as well?
Why do you return to the place where I died every single day?

“Whenever Your Majesty visits the Separate Palace, he is always in the late Grand Mage’s chamber.”

I recalled what Person had told me.
Person’s words, spoken in a sorrowful voice, had gradually transformed from a mere statement into a lament.
For he could do nothing but watch as the Emperor inflicted harm upon himself.

“He sits beneath the window for hours on end.”

My heart ached with sorrow at the sight of my disciple, yet simultaneously, I could not comprehend it.

“He had been cherishing you.”

Was affection truly an emotion worth casting aside everything for?
Was it not a feeling that would fade with the passage of time?

Drip.
I wiped away the tears that had fallen once more and turned around.

“….”

And my heart nearly stopped.
Those cool blue eyes.

“Since when….”

Since when.
Had Kevenriak been watching me?

After entering the chamber, I closed the door and even engaged the lock.
Even though I had heard that Kevenriak remained only in the Grand Mage’s chamber, I could not afford to be careless.
What if the Emperor happened to wander the corridor and, on a whim, suddenly opened any door he encountered?

But.

‘…He could use instantaneous teleportation.’

It seemed my luck in choosing a room had run out.
Did he have business in this chamber?

Kevenriak stood leaning against the closed door, arms crossed.
His firm torso was exposed through the gaps of his loosely fastened nightgown, but that was hardly my concern in this situation.

“….”

I stiffened, my gaze fixed upon him.
My mind raced with dread over how he would deal with a rat that had crept in under cover of darkness.
Kevenriak straightened from his casual lean.

“…That.”

The Emperor’s lips parted.
His voice emerged hoarse and fractured, resonating in a low register.

“Hand it over.”

His hand rose slowly.
I followed the direction of his gaze.
Beside me sat a birdcage imprisoning a doll—one that haunted my nightmares.

‘Why would he…?’

At that moment, the doll spoke.

“I shall become a magnificent mage and provide you comfort, Master.”

***

“The Fourth Prince is a monster.”
“Please spare me.”

One day, Kevenriak had captured a doll within the Imperial Palace.
It bore traces of me—my handiwork.
He coveted that trace. Kevenriak had caged the doll as it tried to flee, and willingly subjected himself to its nightmares.

“It whispers even at my bedside.”

But the doll that had chattered so incessantly fell silent as a grave the moment Kevenriak closed his eyes.
It was only natural. Raina Hart had never intended the nightmares for Kevenriak.

“You’re asking if I can implant new memories into a doll while preserving its existing ones? It’s possible. Though those memories would need to manifest as nightmares for whoever the curse is meant to torment.”

My disciple, skilled in alchemy as well, had answered Kevenriak’s question.
The same disciple who had revealed that it was Raina Hart who had planted the cursed doll in the Imperial Palace.

“…I have plenty of such memories.”

Kevenriak had left my traces intact and embedded his own memories there. And then he cursed himself.
The doll whispered nightmares for me from within its cage.

He simply wanted to dream today.

And yet.
Kevenriak looked down at the mad princess.
Before the cage he had come to retrieve, the princess knelt and prostrated herself, weeping silently in anguish.

“…Ah…ah….”

A sound as though the world were crumbling. Her sobs would not cease.
Brown hair lay scattered across the floor.
Kevenriak’s face remained utterly expressionless as he gazed upon it.

Vivian Asperada.

The house name attached to hers was one of the families Kevenriak had been monitoring.
Whether Duke Asperada, who had briefly attached himself to the Third Prince before falling away, had any connection to dark magic remained unclear.
Reports of the awakened princess had reached Kevenriak as well.
How she threw tantrums multiple times a day in her madness, how she wept….
Kevenriak sat before the princess. He lifted her chin with one hand.

“Hic….”

Hazel eyes glistening with sorrowful tears gazed upon the Emperor.
Her delicate brows curved downward in an expression of grief.
Kevenriak brushed away the tears staining the princess’s eyes with his thumb.
Her pale skin was flushed, yet immaculate.

‘A mole beneath the eye.’

Kevenriak had discovered the old woman from the Traveling Troupe leader’s memories—the one who had handed the potion bottle to the Emperor.
Her bangs hung long enough to obscure her vision, and beneath them, a tear mole caught the eye with striking prominence.

It was undoubtedly a form altered by dark magic.
But most high-ranking mages possessed intricate, meticulous natures.
There had to be a reason why she had embedded such a minute detail—a mole—into her altered appearance.
Perhaps a compulsive mark she always inscribed, or perhaps a mole that existed on the dark mage’s original body.

“The duchess doesn’t have one.”
“…?”

Kevenriak murmured flatly.
So then, what was he to do with this mad duchess.

The Emperor deliberated.
Though she was a rat who had infiltrated even Raina’s Separate Palace, he still felt strangely nothing toward the duchess.
Did he regard her as kindred because they were both mad.

‘Should I devour her.’

Even that prospect stirred no desire within him.

“I….”

The duchess’s voice trembled with tears.
It was the frail-bodied Vivian. Her jaw, gripped in the Emperor’s hand, quivered from the aftermath of her sobs.
Yet the tide of sorrow would not cease.
The moment she heard the doll speak, she had understood.

‘I have become Keri’s nightmare.’

It was a promise made long ago.
A promise Kevenriak had made in childhood.
Even that time had become a nightmare for him.
Perhaps every moment she had involved herself in, hoping for a happy ending for an abused child, had become his nightmare as well.

What have I possibly left with you before departing.

“There is… something I must tell you.”
“….”

Through Vivian’s voice, I pleaded.

“Please.”

I deserved Vivian’s resentment when she awoke and discovered what had been done to her body.
If gods existed in this world, I would accept having my soul torn to shreds as punishment for distorting the original story.
If this was my last chance to atone for my sins.

“Please accept me as your disciple, Your Majesty.”

I would cling to this opportunity with every fiber of my being and never let go.
For now, I had to remain by your side.
In the strongest bond I could conceive of.

“….”

Vivian’s eyes gazed steadily at the tyrant.
Kevenriak, observing those resolute eyes with his own hollow gaze, held back a smile.
As he slowly leaned forward, the beautiful Emperor’s face drew closer to Vivian.
He had made his decision.

“….”

The mad Emperor’s crimson lips whispered against Vivian’s ear.
As expected.

“It would be better to devour the lady instead.”

***

Tiernan sat in the Stairway Alley, famous throughout Jenia.
Wide steps broad enough to seat two or three adults.
A place where people came to eat, rest, and pass the time.
Due to the alley’s acoustics that funneled sound, Tiernan would visit here whenever he came to Jenia to gather information or gauge the sentiment of the people.

“….”

Tiernan Fargan gazed at the crackling campfire.
Someone had kindled it to ward off the chill of the night.
Just yesterday, there had been someone to share the sight of such a fire with him.

“Vivian Asperada.”

Tiernan Fargan murmured the name of the person he had lost.
By all rights, he should have departed Jenia already, but his concern for Vivian Asperada kept him rooted to the region.

“A beautiful woman with chestnut hair has been seen wandering the Imperial Palace.”

Just moments ago, the Spy he had planted within the Imperial Palace had reported the whereabouts of what appeared to be Vivian Asperada.
Mercifully, it seemed she had not been imprisoned or killed—

“Have you lost your mind?”

A booming voice assaulted his eardrums.
Tiernan Fargan turned his gaze to the two figures seated on the lower steps.

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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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