Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 107: Farewell, Your Highness, and Everyone Else

Oh, sh*t. Face wash.

At that moment, Lynn thought his life was complete.

Feeling his face buried deeply in a soft and fragrant crevice, paired with the faint scent of roses and a hint of sweetness, he decided that this risky mission wasn’t entirely a loss. Taking in a subtle breath, he reluctantly lifted his head.

However, given the situation, Lynn quickly restrained his wandering expression, replacing it with a calm demeanor.

In front of him was Yveste, her mask now fallen away, revealing her breathtakingly cold and elegant face. Her expression had reverted to its usual commanding and dignified state, as if everything that had just happened was merely a figment of his imagination.

After all, she was a Princess—her poise and regal bearing had been ingrained in her since childhood. She wasn’t someone who broke down easily or acted irrationally. That fleeting moment when she had shed tears was already a rarity.

Now, she seemed to have recovered from the emotional shock.

But her slightly red eyes and icy fingers gripping his arm betrayed her true state of mind—it was anything but calm.

“Your Highness, I—” Lynn began, but before he could finish, the headstrong woman cut him off again, showcasing her usual overbearing nature.

She didn’t just ignore him; she grabbed his already tattered shirt and began roughly pulling it apart. Her cold fingers trembled slightly as they traced over his body, checking for irreversible injuries. Not even sparing his head.

What the hell? We’ve got a crazy one here.

Lynn sucked in a sharp breath, both shocked and secretly enjoying himself. Yet, given the setting, he thought it might be wise to consider the mood. Stepping back, he tried to escape her grasp, only for her to seize his wrist with an iron grip.

Her expression was calm, but the occasional flicker of heat in her crimson eyes betrayed her inner chaos.

Only moments ago, she had prepared herself for a return to oblivion. She had meticulously arranged for everything that followed. Yet, at the critical moment, her loyal dog had leaped into the fray like a fierce wolf, dragging her from the nightmare of despair.

This was something she never could have anticipated.

“Come back to the Imperial Capital with me,” Yveste finally said, gripping Lynn’s wrist tightly as she feigned composure. “The churches in Glostein have far greater resources than this backwater Orne City. Many nobles—and even the royal treasury—have artifacts that could resolve your condition.”

“Your Highness, you—”

“It’s just a core property of a Level 0 Sealed Artifact. As long as you’re alive, there’s a way to remove it.”

“I—”

“No matter the cost, I’ll make sure you’re cured.”

“And don’t try to change the subject. When this is all over, you’ll explain everything to me—every detail of what happened here.”

Yveste cut him off repeatedly, dragging him toward the exit. Her grip on his wrist was so firm that her nails dug into his skin, drawing blood, as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

It was clear this was the only way she could extend the time Lynn stayed by her side.

But Lynn hadn’t stayed to hear her speak. Glancing at his bloodied wrist, he sighed softly and stopped in his tracks.

“If that’s the case... wouldn’t Your Highness have to bow and scrape before those wretched nobles?” Lynn asked quietly. “If it means subjecting you to such humiliation, I’d rather die.”

Damn it.

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. The moment they did, he regretted it deeply.

Are you trying to max out this lunatic’s affection gauge?

Once again, his other brain had taken over. He cursed himself, wishing he could slap his own face.

Sure enough, upon hearing his words, a strange heat flickered in Yveste’s scarlet eyes. A faint blush bloomed on her pale cheeks.

Realizing he needed a distraction, Lynn hurriedly changed the subject. “Besides, Your Highness, I’m already close to—”

Before he could finish, he was shoved against the wall. Yveste leaned in, her red lips parting as she bit down on his shoulder.

Warmth, wetness, and an odd sense of pain followed. Lynn felt blood trickling from his shoulder, but instead of recoiling, the crazy woman extended her tongue, licking the flowing blood before swallowing it with an almost ritualistic gesture.

What the f*. This is going off the rails!**

Lynn was stunned by Yveste’s sudden action.

When she finally pulled back, a hint of sick satisfaction flashed in her crimson eyes, though her tone remained icily calm. “If you want to talk, then talk.”

“Despite giving you the chance to return to the Imperial Capital, you secretly jumped off the carriage, did something utterly unnecessary, and worried your master. I don’t remember raising such a rebellious dog.”

“This mark,” she said, her voice soft yet firm, “I’ve left it on you as a small punishment for your disobedience.”

“Also…” Yveste cupped his face with both hands, her warm, sweet breath brushing against him as she whispered, “I’ve said this before: the only person in this world who can decide if you die is me.”

“And if I refuse to let you die, then you simply cannot die.”

Lynn took a deep breath, but before he could respond, the clamor of voices echoed from the ruins’ entrance.

“Your Highness! Are you alright?!”

The sound of her subordinates grew louder as Afia, in her feline form, darted to the front. Mid-leap, she transformed back into her human form, colliding with Lynn like a missile.

“You’re okay!” Afia exclaimed, her eyes wide with joy and admiration as she hugged Lynn tightly. “Everyone’s okay! That’s amazing!”

“What was that terrifying commotion earlier?!”

Yveste inhaled deeply, forcing her composure back. The fleeting madness in her eyes disappeared, replaced by calm. “I’m fine,” she said coolly. “Report the casualties.”

Morris appeared from the shadows, wiping away tears. “Apart from heavy losses among the Duke’s elite guards, everyone else is unharmed.”

Duke Tyrius followed close behind, his face grim with anger over the events orchestrated by Saint Roland VI. His expression softened slightly when his gaze met Lynn’s. He gave a curt nod, a silent acknowledgment of the boy’s contribution.

The tense atmosphere of the underground ruins began to lighten. Survivors basked in the joy of having made it through alive.

“Damn, bro, you’re incredible.” Greya sauntered over, slinging an arm around Lynn’s shoulder, her face alight with disbelief. “Tell me—how the hell did you pull this off?”

“When those two terrifying entities were fighting in the sky earlier, I could’ve sworn one of the monsters looked like you. Rhine said I was seeing things,” Greya remarked, her tone uncertain.

“That was me,” Lynn admitted without hesitation, his calm demeanor drawing sharp stares from all around. “As for the other entity, it’s now residing inside my body.”

As if to prove his point, Lynn raised his hand, conjuring a glob of black sludge in his palm.

“?!”

The group was dumbstruck. The entity—a being whose true power likely rivaled that of a Sixth-Rank demigod—was actually contained within the body of someone as weak as a First Rank?

The realization struck everyone at once. The earlier relief vanished like a puff of smoke, replaced by grim silence. Afia’s gaze betrayed a flicker of worry as her eyes darted to Lynn.

Seeing the shift in atmosphere, Lynn gave a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay. That’s enough for me. But I do have a few parting words.”

Looking down at Afia in his arms, he began, “Though Her Highness didn’t directly absorb the core property of that Level 0 Sealed Artifact, she’s still been contaminated. For the next while, she’ll likely feel weak or even experience temporary paralysis. Prepare a wheelchair ahead of time. It’d be better if she’s pushed around during her outings.”

Yveste’s condition, visible to Lynn due to his heightened senses from merging with the Demon of Creation, was worse than she let on. The fact that she was still standing was a testament to her sheer willpower.

Hearing this, Yveste’s face darkened as she staggered toward him. She seemed to realize what Lynn was planning. “Shut up...” she muttered, her voice trembling.

But Lynn didn’t stop. Leaping into the air, he floated just out of her reach.

Grinding her teeth, Yveste’s pale face flushed with anger, as if silently accusing him of disobedience—How dare you defy your master?!

“Duke Tyrius,” Lynn continued, “you are a true noble. During the upcoming Succession Ceremony, I entrust Her Highness to you. I hope you’ll stay true to your word.”

The duke, sensing something was amiss, furrowed his brows. “Hey, kid—”

“And you, Rhine.” Lynn’s gaze fell on the proud blond man. “I may find you insufferable, but the Augusta family is one of the few forces Her Highness can truly rely on. Stay loyal. If you’ve chosen this path, see it through.”

Rhine stiffened, his expression briefly faltering before he composed himself with a scoff and a curt nod.

“Greya,” Lynn said, turning to the woman by his side, “once I’m gone, when things come up, try to think about what I’d do. Sometimes, unconventional methods are the quickest way to resolve a situation.”

“And Morris—”

Before he could finish, the Demon of Creation rebelled. Its overwhelming strength, far beyond what Lynn could control, surged forth. Black sludge formed jagged spikes that pierced his body from every direction, splattering blood into the air.

A grotesque, malevolent face emerged from his chest, glaring venomously at the onlookers.

“Lynn!”

Gasps of horror erupted as the group watched his bloodied figure, still barely holding himself aloft in the air.

“You… come back here this instant!” Yveste’s icy tone cracked, laced with an uncharacteristic tremor. She instinctively reached out, her fingers trembling as if to grasp his coat.

But her body finally gave out. Collapsing to the ground, she was caught by Afia, who held her tightly in concern.

“Hey, are you seriously planning to run off after saying all that?” Greya’s expression twisted into a scowl. “Enough is enough! Let the experts in the capital deal with this—you’re not some savior! You’re just a First Rank!”

“Besides—”

“No.” Lynn cut her off. His voice was firm but gentle. “There are some things only I can do right now.”

Hovering above them, he looked down at the crowd. His gaze lingered on Yveste, cradled in Afia’s arms, her crimson eyes meeting his.

“Lastly,” he said with a faint smile, “Your Highness, I believe in you. Someday, you’ll make an incredible Empress.”

Before anyone could respond, Lynn soared higher into the air.

“Soon, I’ll gain temporary control over the Demon of Creation’s powers,” he called out, raising his voice. “When that happens, I’ll use its ability to teleport all of you out of the Soren Mountains.”

“What are you planning?!” shouts of alarm rose from below.

“I’m going to end this. Completely.”

He raised his right hand, and a wave of spatial energy began rippling outward.

Realizing his intent, Yveste clenched her teeth, her crimson eyes brimming with emotion. Even paralyzed, she instinctively reached out toward him, her hand trembling as it grasped at empty air.

Their eyes met one last time.

In that fleeting moment, Lynn saw a hint of pleading in her gaze—a softness he’d never witnessed before.

Even when he’d threatened her with his own life, she had never wavered.

This time, however, she had.

“...Goodbye, Your Highness. And everyone else.”

Ignoring the brief pang of hesitation in his chest, Lynn clenched his fist.

“You... b*stard!!!” Yveste’s anguished scream tore through the silence.

In the next instant, the ruins fell silent. The space rippled, and one by one, the group vanished, their forms fading like mirages.

It was as if none of it had ever happened.

Seeing the last traces of everyone vanish, Lynn let out a slight sigh of relief.

“Now, it’s time to settle things between us,” he said calmly, feeling the violent struggles and abnormalities surging within his body.

“Save your nonsense for your next life, brat... your time is up!!!”

At this moment, the Demon of Creation had finally recovered from the agony inflicted by the Crown of Thorns’ pain energy. Its strength surged, regaining control over Lynn’s mind and will.

The demonic entity was on the verge of fully seizing his body.

As a mere First-Rank Extraordinary, Lynn should have stood no chance of resisting.

“Oh, really?” Lynn replied, still composed despite the dire circumstances. “But I think I might still be able to put up a bit of a fight.”

With those words, he reached into his pocket under the demon’s watchful gaze.

And slowly pulled out…

…a black stocking.

(P.S.: No fake deaths. The Princess won’t exit the stage either.)

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