For the Young Villain’s Happy Ending - Chapter 89

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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 89

That night.
Raina Hart sat on a piece of wood placed on the ground, using it as a chair.
A full day had passed, yet her memories only extended to what had happened in the mountains during the afternoon.

‘I was just talking with Tiernan Fargan a moment ago. Why is it suddenly night?’

Half a day’s worth of memories had vanished.
Alarmed, Raina quickly surveyed her surroundings.
Multiple campfires burned brightly, with groups of people gathered in clusters around each one.
At the spot where Raina sat, a campfire burned in the center as well.
The only difference from the other groups was that she sat alone.

‘Did Vivian wake up?’

Raina Hart leaned on the wood with her hand, then lowered her gaze to the hard object that pressed against it alongside the wood.
It was the wooden sword Kevenriak Heteroven had given her. Relief washed over her at the fact that she hadn’t lost it.
A voice addressed her.

“You’ve been waiting? I brought something to drink.”

It was Tiernan Fargan.
He handed her a cup filled with a warm beverage and sat down beside her.

“Um, Nox…”
“Nox this time? So there’s another version of you.”
“…Another version of me?”

As Raina Hart accepted the cup, a pang of embarrassment struck her, and she asked back.
Tiernan Fargan smiled faintly.

“Yeah. That’s what you said. Of course, I was taken aback when I first heard it…”

Tiernan Fargan gazed at his cup, recalling the events of today.
It was afternoon.

“Nox, why do these people treat you with such deference?”

Vivian asked me this question as the Rebel Forces showed me such respect.
The moment I was about to reveal to her that Nox Din was an alias, and that my true name was Tiernan Fargan.
Vivian’s expression shifted into profound confusion.

“…?”
“Vivian?”
“…W-where am I? Who are you?”

As though she had become someone else entirely, she forgot everything and spiraled into bewilderment.
A single word flashed through Tiernan’s mind in that instant.

‘Dissociative madness.’

He had heard rumors before that Vivian Asperada suffered from such an affliction.
Though he had dismissed it as mere gossip at the time.
If Vivian’s behavior stemmed from this illness, I needed to take appropriate measures.
She was perceiving everything around her as unfamiliar.

‘If the environment changes, she may become even more confused.’

Tiernan abandoned his plan to move via instantaneous teleportation and decided instead to traverse the mountain on foot.
During that journey, I conversed with Vivian. Though she still felt like a different person, Tiernan answered her questions with utmost sincerity.

“You’re saying I left home and asked you to take me to Jenia?”
“That’s right. You jumped from the City Walls.”

At a point where I expected her to be shocked, she instead responded with unexpected delight.
She seemed more like fifteen than twenty-two, but considering that Vivian had slept for seven years, it was not incomprehensible.

“It seems my other self was brave. It was something I often thought about as a child.”

Vivian referred to the version of herself that Tiernan knew as her “other self.”
Two distinct personalities. Was this Vivian’s dissociative madness?
It was not an unfamiliar ailment in the Tunterra Empire.
The protagonist of a famous tale from the storybooks read to children at bedtime suffered from this very condition.

‘Another self, then….’

It was the first time I had actually faced her like this.
Though unsettled, Tiernan Fargan accepted her condition without letting it show, taking his time to understand. In doing so, I found the pivot point between the two personalities.
The cause of Vivian’s dormancy. The personalities seemed to diverge before and after the carriage accident.

“I thought you had completely forgotten me.”

Tiernan Fargan finished his recollection and opened his mouth toward Raina Hart.

“Vivian, do you know what you said to me earlier?”
“….”

Of course she didn’t. Yet it felt awkward to claim ignorance of words that had spilled from Vivian’s own lips.
Raina Hart gazed at him in silence.
Tiernan Fargan opened his mouth as though her reaction was exactly what he had anticipated.

“You said you remembered me. The truth is, we met when we were young. Tiernan Fargan. That’s my name.”

He spoke as though introducing himself to yet another version of Vivian.
Perhaps because Vivian had remembered the promise from her childhood.
His face looked so genuinely delighted that Raina Hart couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
As the tension dissolved, information I possessed spilled forth unbidden.

“I know, Tiernan Fargan. I’ve known from the beginning. You said we’d meet again once the war ended and we grew up, didn’t you?”
“…You’ve been pretending not to know all this time?”

Since Vivian had spoken those words of recognition toward Tiernan Fargan, there was no longer any reason for me to avoid mentioning it.

“Yes. And my poor eyesight was a lie. Back then, I had reasons to say it that way. I’m sorry.”

At Raina Hart’s successive confessions, Tiernan Fargan’s eyes widened.
Then he smiled brightly.

“That’s good. Eyesight is important, after all.”

Raina Hart smiled back, but her heart ached.
She realized that the smile he gave was not meant for her.

‘I am an uninvited guest.’

When Vivian awoke and met Tiernan Fargan, even moving her body felt like a sin.
Now I was nothing but a foreign object wedged between two protagonists in this world.
And my hand rested upon the wooden sword that Kevenriak Heteroven had given me.

***

The Grimoire of Magic was a being that had lived for a thousand years.
Created to know all knowledge in the world, to destroy all things in the world.
Deep within the innermost chambers of the Betuzhenia Empire’s Imperial Library, the Grimoire of Magic stirred awake.

[There is nothing this great Grimoire of Magic cannot read.]

Zikhard chuckled as I reviewed the information I had accessed.

Kevenriak Heteroven
Age: 22
…
Occupation: Mage (7th Circle)
Specialties: Magic (SS), Swordsmanship (S), Observation (A), Endurance (SS), Speed Reading (S), Self-Deception (S), Emotional Detachment (S)
…
Notes: Disciple of Raina Hart, Emperor of the Betuzhenia Empire
※ ‘Life Transfer’ currently active

Even the information of the Emperor who rules the Betuzhenia Empire lay bare and defenseless before me.
Pathetic humans.

[Before this greatness, you shall kneel and worship….]

Zikhard floated in the air, book pages spread wide, crimson bookmark dangling from my lips.
But the Grimoire of Magic suddenly closed its cover and descended to the floor.

“I’m bored.”

Playing the role of a corner grimoire could only last so long.
After two years of doing nothing but this, I was sick of it.

“Kevenriak…. To think you’d lock me away.”

Zikhard’s body trembled violently.
Two years ago. I taught him forbidden magic, risking everything.
Yet Kevenriak showed no gratitude and locked me away in the Imperial Library Vault.
I should have informed my master of the Demon Grimoire’s pitiful, wretched circumstances.
Instead, this foolish master gets himself stabbed by his own disciple.

Sniffle, sniffle.
Zikhard made a contemptible show of wiping tears with the binding cord.
If only I could fall into slumber and await the next master.
Zikhard recalled the information about Raina Hart that he had accessed two years prior.

Raina Hart (■■■)
■■ ■■■ ■■■
■■ ■ ■ ■ ■■■
….

Nothing emerged as expected, yet Zikhard could discern something from his own records.

Zikhard
: A Demon Grimoire created by ■■■■
Containing all knowledge of the world….
…(excerpt omitted)…
※ ‘Pandora’s Box (provisional designation)’ locked state
※ Enslavement Potion effect active (enslaved: Raina Hart)

The Enslavement Potion’s effect, still maintained.

“The Enslavement Potion is a soul contract, they say….”

Raina Hart’s soul exists somewhere.
Whether still trapped within her body or living elsewhere.
This tenacious eighth-circle mage’s soul refused to die, keeping me enslaved.
At this rate, placing a fear-stricken world beneath my spine won’t happen for another thousand years—.

A deep, resonant boom echoed through the vault.
Zikhard spun around at the thunderous sound.
The entrance to the vault that had confined him trembled.
A door opening for the first time in two years.
The mad Emperor could not have come—only someone capable of dispelling a seventh-circle barrier could open it.
Surely not.

“M-Master?!”

Could my master have come to rescue me?

“Master, is that you?!”

The Grimoire of Magic rose into the air, fluttering frantically toward the figure who had opened the door.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited?! I’ve shed tears, snot, and ink water every single night worrying about you, Master!”

Whimpering sounds escaped unbidden.
The Grimoire of Magic rubbed its book cover frantically against the person it had collided with.
But why was the upper body so solidly built? Had my master bulked up over these two years…?

“….”

As Zikhard subtly leaned his body backward, a pair of cold blue eyes gazing down at him came into view.

“Eek!”

Zikhard shrieked as though he had witnessed something unspeakable and stumbled backward.
He knew all too well how merciless the mad Emperor was.
With only the ability to read minds at his disposal, the Emperor would often amuse himself by reading the minds of those in the Imperial Palace from his underground vault.
It was quite the spectacle—blood and screams in abundance.
But he had no desire for his own screams to be among them.

“….”

The Emperor’s hand reached toward Zikhard.

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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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