Chapter 197 Where is this for? ! - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Who on earth stole my cutest puppy away? He's so adorable, surely he'd suffer a lot out there on his own. Thinking of this, the anxiety and maternal instincts within her surged uncontrollably, yearning to embrace and shower her lovely little dog with affection immediately. Evester tightly covered her pale cheeks, a near-whimper escaping from her throat as her emotions nearly reached breaking point. Everyone thought, with Lynn by her side, she had gradually returned to being a normal person. Yet, that was an absurd misunderstanding. Besides, she suddenly remembered something crucial. The night before leaving the city of Orne, she had declared to Lynn that she would make him fall in love with her. Not only that, back then, Evester had left a mark with a deep kiss imprinted on his tongue. That mark suppressed his usual improper fantasies, not purging them but allowing them to accumulate until they reached a threshold and then bursting out all at once. Like the time on the train when she helped him with his needs using her foot, a perfect testament to her mark. Now, much time had passed since the last release. Evester had no idea when the next eruption might be. She only hoped her subordinates could retrieve him swiftly. After all, her little pup was so adorable, no woman in this world could resist falling for him. If he fell into the hands of some wicked woman... Just imagining such a possibility made Evester feel an urge, rooted deep within, to annihilate the entire Glossatine. Late night, at the Elocht Palace. Saint Roland VI, crowned and holding his sacred staff, appeared like a deity high upon his throne, his entire being exuding the same golden aura as the Holy Spirit Tree, looking both divine and noble. At this moment, his gaze was like a searchlight, piercing through the kneeling Count of the Court below him. "Where is the man?" "Your, Your Majesty, we are still searching, but—" "But what?!" "The Saint of Silence disappeared with him, after all, she's related to the rumored one. If they deliberately hide, it's very challenging to locate them through divination or similar methods. And with the Moonlight Canon imminent—" "Stop this nonsense! If you don't find them within three days, bring your heads to me!!!" Saint Roland VI's voice boomed like thunder, making the Count of the Court tremble uncontrollably. To the outside world, the emperor recently endured the loss of a son, still engulfed in unprecedented sorrow and rage, thus justifying some extremity in his actions. However, for those close in court, such as the Count of the Court, the reality was not as it appeared. Throughout the day, even upon receiving the news of the Fourth Prince Joshua's death, they saw not a hint of change on His Majesty's face. Moreover, even now, he was engrossed in the whereabouts of Lynn Bartleyon, the traitor, secretly ordering him to be captured alive, not to harm his life. However, for the aristocrats, Lynn was a thorn in their side. Even with orders from Cardelron on the surface, they secretly plotted his demise at every turn. How could they not fear someone who disregarded rules and wielded the power to overturn them? Currently, two factions circled Lynn: those wishing to preserve his life and those ensuring his non-return alive. The outcome of this race and struggle between the factions would, in the end, hinge on whether Lynn lived or died. "Anything else to report? Give me news worth hearing!" "Your Majesty, after the event, most surviving extraordinaries became mentally unstable, plunged into madness, making it uncertain whether they could ever recover. Thus, apart from the Silent Church's singular account, we still struggle to reconstruct the events of last night." Hearing this, Saint Roland VI's face darkened further. Noticing this, the Count hurriedly added, "However, the Penitents extracted and analyzed the residual power at the old factory, confirming something." "What is it?" "The power Lynn Bartleyon wielded appeared to stem from the 'trickery' faith, embodying a chaotic yet obscure aura of destiny." The Count respectfully answered. "Destiny?" Saint Roland VI's expression briefly froze. In his view, the lad might leverage the core properties of a sealed object within him, aided by the demon Uvelia, to navigate the crisis. Unexpectedly, things didn't unfold as he anticipated. Destiny? Saint Roland VI lapsed into thought, and then a cold smile danced across his lips. This truly is... What has brought us here? Half awake, Lynn suddenly felt his consciousness drifting away from his body, suspended high in the air, overlooking a terrifying scene that could make one's scalp tingle. The roars and howls of countless dead spiraled into a vortex consuming the earth, a jagged pillar stretching to the sky, crowned by a demonic shadow blotting out the heavens. In its crimson eyes seemed to dwell all of the world's rage and fury. "Lynn Bartleyon." The voice of the King of Malice seemed to transcend time and space, branding itself deep within his spirit. Old Ku? Lynn took a deep breath. He expected another tirade of curses like last time from Kusustan's venomous rage. Unexpectedly. This time, the figure seemed composed, as its jagged, pitch-black mouth curled into a sinister, mocking smile. "Do you think the power related to Him is so easy to leverage?" "Foolish human, unbeknownst to you, all 'gifts' from destiny have their prices marked in secret." "I await." "Await the day your 'price' comes due." The voice, like a low whisper, echoed in Lynn's spiritual world, sending shivers down his spine, his body crawling with ants, making him tremble to the core. Instinctively, he awoke from his slumber, eyes snapping open. Then he realized his back was already drenched in cold sweat. Damn. High-dimensional demon over-the-top bubble voice, those who hear it, know it. What's this guy doing for dramatic effect? Losing to a mere human twice, perhaps his main body was annoyed, so he followed the curse mark to deliver a hardcore speech? That seemed unlikely. Judging by the tone, it seemed the power he'd borrowed stemmed from the legendary Prisoner of Fate. Though he knew not what happened back then, it seemed Kusustan had some fear in its presence. The more he borrowed this power, the more he'd owe in the future. This truly is... Lynn's thoughts swirled with confusion, unsure what to say. But being naturally optimistic, he wouldn't dwell too long on such matters. After all, he had already offended at least three deities, the King of Malice, the future Moon Goddess, and the Lord of a Million Stars. As they say, when your debts pile up, another doesn't matter. Prisoner of Fate? Could it withstand a few hits from Miss Witch? Lynn rolled his eyes. Besides, he'd never encountered a deity with that titular name in the original script, even if one existed, it’d likely be a minor, inauspicious figure lurking in some obscure corner. After concluding his thoughts, Lynn shifted his focus back to reality. Only now did he become aware of the numbing pain enveloping his entire body, prompting a frown. Realizing his body had difficulty performing even basic movements, Lynn sighed lightly. Not dying was the best outcome. It was likely Miss Witch who saved him. He couldn't fathom how Her Highness negotiated with her, whether any arguments erupted. Thinking this far, Lynn suddenly detected a faint, alluring fragrance beside him and the gentle warmth of breath. It seemed a woman was sleeping next to him. Was it Her Highness? Hiss. Lynn felt a faint heat on the tip of his tongue, as if the mark of desire that once embarrassed him in front of Evester was on the verge of flaring up again. It seemed that his waking environment matched his pre-unconscious predictions. Upon waking, there was a warm, comfortable bed, with a voluptuous woman lying beside him ready to attend to his needs. A mischievous grin crept onto his lips, a fiery emotion flickering within his bright blue eyes. He wondered what kind of reward Her Highness and Miss Witch would offer for pulling off such a grand feat. Thinking of this, Lynn painstakingly shifted his body, inching closer to the sleeping woman beside him in the darkness. Despite the constant, shattering pain coursing through his body, it was not unbearable for Lynn, who was well-versed in wielding the Crown of Thorns. Some things, after all, take precedence. "…" Moments later, with his face buried deep into the woman's bosom, Lynn took a contented breath, feeling as if he had come alive once more. After a night of tireless effort, this was his earned prize. Lynn thought cheerfully. But in the next second, his expression changed suddenly. Something felt off! That wasn’t the fragrance of Her Highness! Instead of the overpowering scent akin to roses, this aroma was serene and ethereal like an orchid, as if cool, delicate hands were soothing his agitated heart. Afiya? Milani? Or someone else? One by one, these possibilities flashed in his mind, but Lynn dismissed each in turn. In the end, he even considered Eleanor, yet found something amiss there too. With Evester's nature, in a setting she could dominate, would she really let another woman enjoy the spoils? Please, what a joke! All at once, tension gripped Lynn's body, his heart pounding wildly. Yes. Taking a closer look at his surroundings, this wasn't the Bartleyon Manor; it was cramped and had a faint damp, musty smell. What exactly happened after that? Realizing the root of the problem, Lynn's heated thoughts dissipated instantly. Meanwhile, perhaps due to his earlier movements, the woman beside him awoke, alarmed. At that moment, Lynn distinctly felt her body tense to the extreme, as if bracing herself defensively. Against his expectations, she made no move to retaliate upon waking. Seemingly perplexed, she lay there, tense, neither pushing him away nor embracing him, caught in a moment of indecision. The atmosphere turned awkwardly tense. It’s unclear how much time passed. Finally, a familiar, icy yet pleasant voice, tinged with subtle embarrassment, resonated softly beside him. "... How long do you intend to stay like this?"