The Villain Bought the Female Lead - Ch. 142

Passing through the halls of Academia was Liel, the fourth daughter of the Schugenhart family. She couldn’t understand the current situation.

“Not being allowed to bring any attendants… what nonsense is this?”

“Sister Liel, it’s for the security of Academia. We don’t have a choice.”

Lina, her twin sister, tried to soothe her. Yet, Liel’s grumbling continued unabated.

“They’re saying no even if I take just ten attendants! How can the Schugenhart family be here with three members and not even have ten servants?”

“It’s not about the number. The rules clearly prohibit attendants from entering.”

“Exactly. Such a ridiculous rule. Then who’s supposed to carry my bag or run errands for me?”

“You’ll have to do it yourself.”

“What?!”

Liel looked at her sister as if she couldn’t fathom doing something so bothersome. Lina chuckled quietly in response.

Their conversation didn’t go much further because their second brother, Vello Troa Schugenhart, who was walking ahead, had reached their destination.

Vello’s gaze lit up with a smile as he greeted someone.

“How have you been?”

“You’ve arrived, Brother.”

The one addressing him as <brother> was the third son, Vargan.

Vargan glanced back at the two women trailing behind. Liel glared at him disapprovingly, while Lina smiled warmly and greeted him, mirroring Vello’s demeanor.

Now, four direct siblings of the Schugenhart family had gathered in one place.

It was a rare sight, given how seldom they convened without special circumstances.

Behind Vargan, Vello noticed a woman bowing deeply — a servant assigned exclusively to Vargan.

“Was it… Alicia? It’s been a while.”

When Vello greeted her, Alicia expressed her gratitude to him remembering her name, despite her merely being a servant.

Their interactions had been sparse, as Vello was often away from the Schugenhart mansion.

Before Alicia could even raise her head completely, Liel, looking as though she had just had a brilliant idea, stepped forward and grabbed Alicia’s hands.

Liel’s eyes gleamed.

Wasn’t there another person related to Schugenhart family in the Academia as well?

“Work as my personal servant during the festival,”

“… yes?”

“I’ll pay you generously. Anyway, following that guy around isn’t ⎯  Ow! What was that for?!”

Vargan had smacked her on the head, prompting Liel to huff angrily.

He spoke in bewilderment.

“What kind of shameless thief are you? Showing off as the family’s sole disgrace now, are we?”

“Look who’s talking! You always have Alicia with you anyway, so letting me borrow her for the festival should be fine.”

“You’re still as crass and ill-mannered as ever. Haven’t you been assigned top-notch etiquette instructors? And yet…”

Vargan looked exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief. Liel gritted her teeth, ready to retaliate.

But Lina stepped in to calm her sister before the situation escalated.

Though Alicia was a servant of the Schugenhart family, her primary allegiance was to Vargan.

“Fine. Just lend her to me for today.”

Liel said, her tone slightly subdued but still persistent.

The second son, Vello, didn’t attend Academia. The eldest son was absent. And the third son, Vargan, didn’t want to bother with them.

So, Liel had planned to spend her first day of the Academia’s festival to look around with Alicia as her guide.

However, Vargan merely sighed deeply, gave Vello a quick farewell, and walked away.

As if he didn’t want to engage further.

Liel shouted at his retreating figure.

“Hey! I’m taking Alicia with me! Don’t you dare complain later!”

Vargan’s response echoed faintly.

“I’ll leave the decision to Alicia. Convince her if you can.”

“See? That’s practically a yes… hey! Where are you going now?”

“……”

“Lina, he definitely heard me but is pretending not to, right?”

Lina smiled awkwardly, but Alicia answered instead.

“He’s going to meet Lady Erica.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. He mentioned he would be spending the day with Duchess Lilians Portlet and Lady Erica.”

“Ugh. I’d better avoid running into them. It’ll just turn into a hassle with all that family stuff.”

Liel scowled as if she’d just seen something unpleasant and kept her gaze fixed in the direction Vargan had disappeared.

“Seriously, what’s with him these days?”

“… what do you mean?”

“For years, he barely saw her, but now he’s acting all lovey-dovey with his fiancée like he used to.”

“Oh…”

Alicia couldn’t respond properly.

As she had little knowledge of the events between Vargan and Erica.

Noticing Alicia’s curiosity written all over her face, Liel grinned slyly.

“I could tell you what I know if you agree to be my personal servant for the day. I might not know everything, but I’m sure I have quite a bit of interesting info.”

Liel made her proposal, knowing Alicia couldn’t easily refuse.

***

The festival at Academia was vibrant and dazzling.

Despite its historically stringent entry inspections, the joyous laughter of people from all over the world echoed throughout the place.

Circuses featuring mystical animals and familiars entertained the eyes.

While the aroma of spices and grilled skewers, along with the scents of fresh flowers and fruits, delighted the nose.

The shops in each area exhibited various goods, while in the plaza surrounding the central fountain, minstrels and musicians showcased their talents.

“As expected, our Erica is the prettiest.”

“You don’t have to say things like that…”

“There’s no need to be shy. I’m not saying it just because you’re my daughter — it’s true. You’re as beautiful as a fairy.”

“……”

At the fountain.

Lilians gently stroked her daughter Erica’s hair. The silky locks shimmered with every touch.

Erica’s expression was hard to read.

She didn’t resist Lilians’ affectionate gestures, but being treated like a child in public was undeniably embarrassing.

Even as she struggled with her feelings, Erica discreetly observed Lilians.

Her mother seemed calm and composed.

Erica recalled that Vargan’s curses should be lessening in frequency, and so far, no side effects appeared to have surfaced.

If things continued this way, it might soon be unnecessary to resort to extreme measures to maintain her mother’s stability.

Unaware of Erica’s thoughts, Lilians smiled warmly and said.

“I’d love to meet some of your friends.”

Erica had never been one to make friends easily, which had been a source of concern for Lilians.

Until she joined Academia, Erica’s only known friend was Bantlo.

But recently, it seemed her dear daughter had made another close companion.

“Diphelia… or should I call her Saint?”

“Diphelia is fine.”

“I’d really like to see her before we leave. Is there any chance I could meet her tomorrow?”

“… I’m spending time with Bantlo and Diphelia tomorrow afternoon. Maybe then…”

“You’re meeting your friends…?”

Lilians covered her mouth in pleasant surprise, while Erica muttered in a small voice.

“It’s not playing, just… spending time together.”

“My little fairy is growing up so fast…”

“……”

Lilians’ voice trembled with emotion, like a parent at a graduation ceremony. Erica, meanwhile, found herself unable to meet her mother’s gaze.

Erica had never once shown herself fitting in with her peers at social gatherings and had always avoided them.

It was no surprise, then, that Lilians, brimming with emotions, reacted in such a way.

… as a sweet melody from the nearby performance concluded, a man who had been waiting stepped forward.

“My apologies for making you wait.”

The tall man moved with an air of graceful, old-fashioned elegance.

Gestures that could have easily come off as excessive or pretentious but instead conveyed a natural dignity when done by him.

Lilians returned his greeting with a light bow and spoke.

“No, it’s quite alright, Vargan. We’ve only just arrived ourselves.”

“…..”

Erica narrowed her eyes slightly, observing Vargan.

His expressions, tone, and every small gesture were flawlessly crafted, perfectly embodying the role of an ideal fiancé.

Anyone unaware of his true nature would never suspect that this was all an act.

With a gentle tone, Vargan extended his hand.

Pointing in the direction they were to proceed.

“Then, shall we?”

***

As the festival continued in full swing.

The sound of a knock echoed at the door of Professor Lucien’s office located in the main building.

Lucien granted permission for entry, and a male student hesitantly stepped in, shuffling his feet as he approached.

When the boy finally stood before him, Lucien sipped the coffee he left on the desk.

Asking in a tone devoid of interest.

“What is it, Borg?”

Borg Lampheat Ocel.

The student who had caused a scene during Vargan’s speech at the entrance ceremony only to collapse afterward.

“I told you not to come looking for me unless I reached out first.”

He was also a member of the conservative faction, one of the many branches of the Goddess Church.

“…..”

Even though he had come of his own volition, Borg hesitated, unable to speak.

Ever since he had been forced to swallow Vargan’s familiar and the death of Bishop Caliculea, who had been hiding in the theater.

Borg’s position within the conservative faction had become negligible.

The Church had severed ties with him upon realizing he was under Vargan’s control.

Borg was left isolated — deprived of even the most basic information and any minor tasks.

He had been cast aside with vague words to wait, as there were no immediate missions or intel for him.

The only reason the Church had not disposed of him was to avoid the scandal his death might stir in Academia.

Clenching his trembling hands into fists, Borg finally spoke with courage.

While he couldn’t speak about Vargan due to the curse, he could inquire about the Goddess.

“Why… why is it that I am not given… the proper guidance?!”

“…..”

“It’s been… I don’t even know how many months now. Am I truly waiting for the guidance of the Goddess…?”

“… Borg.”

“Professor! We both bear the mark of faithful believers… the proof of our devotion! Why am I —!”

“Borg.”

Lucien’s voice, weary as it often was, now pressed down on him with undeniable authority.

Borg’s words, spurred by emotion, were smothered and swallowed along with his rising frustration.

Lucien responded calmly.

“This is the will of the Goddess.”

“The… the will of the Goddess… truly…?”

“Leave.”

Any further questioning would be considered heresy.

Lucien dismissed him with those words, effectively ending the conversation.

Borg had much he wanted to say — questions he wished to ask, answers he longed to hear.

But faced with that single command, he retreated without resistance.

He did not want to be cast aside.

He was a sincere, young believer of the Goddess.

With heavy steps, he returned to his place.

…

Once Borg had left and the door closed.

The soundproof magic surrounding the office resumed. In the otherwise silent and lone room, a man appeared.

Or rather, he had been <there> all along.

Though unnoticed while Borg was present, he had undoubtedly been in the room.

Lucien, unfazed by the man’s presence, sipped his coffee once more. The man, however, erupted in anger.

“How much longer do we have to put up with that useless wretch?! All he does is drag down the Church!”

“Bluelance, he is a devout follower… he’s merely taking a longer route to the right path.”

“Just looking at someone like him makes my blood boil!”

<Bluelance> cracked his neck aggressively, venting his frustration.

Lucien, unaffected, conveyed the rest of the instructions he had received. As he listened, Bluelance’s demeanor shifted to one of amusement.

“A-ha-ha! Now that’s more like it!”

He clapped his muscular thighs with delight, showing his approval.

Then he asked with sudden curiosity.

“But are you really okay with this?”

“About what?”

“Francesca. She’s been by your side for quite a while, hasn’t she?”

“That’s correct.”

Bluelance laughed as if hoping Lucien would express some weakness.

“Don’t you have any affection for her? You’re human, not Altife!”

But Lucien dismissed the notion firmly.

“None… protecting her, her resuming necromancy studies — everything is simply part of the path laid out by the Goddess.”

“Come on! Sometimes you need to let loose and cry like other humans! I want to see that and laugh my head off! Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Bluelance laughed uproariously before his tone grew serious again.

“… so, when can we go wild?”

“The final day of the festival.”

“The signal will be the movement of the ancient dragon, right?”

“That’s correct. In that brief moment, three <others> will infiltrate the interior.”

The thought of the chaos that would engulf Academia made a sly grin stretch across Bluelance’s face.

He exhaled heavily, unable to hide his excitement.

“The Archbishop selection taking place in Academia…! A-ha-ha! … no, no, even better — we’re targeting him! Just thinking about it makes me feel giddy!”

He stood abruptly, shouting in exhilaration.

Calling out to Lucien with an unrelenting grin, he declared,

“Lucien! Stick with me on this! Who’s our target again?”

Bluelance, already renowned for his strength rivaling that of an Archbishop, spoke with an almost feral fervor.

“The headmaster of Academia, Gulemacia! I can’t wait… for the moment I take him down! Don’t you feel the same, Lucien?!”

Despite Bluelance’s feverish excitement, Lucien remained composed as he replied.

“Yes. I’m very much looking forward to that day.”

… for when he fell, Academia would collapse with him.