The Villainess I Abandoned Has Returned (1)

"Hey? Could you at least loosen this up a bit?? Hey? Hello?"

I called out to the group in scarlet robes standing outside the iron bars, but it was useless. Not a single one of them even glanced my way, as if they'd all agreed beforehand. They simply whispered among themselves like always, sneaking sidelong glances at me as I crouched on the cushion inside the cell.

"By the heavens, his manners are truly crude. And that vulgar appearance. How could Her Excellency possibly..."

"Still, his face is quite handsome, isn't it? I can understand where she's coming from."

"Well, with a face like that... But isn't that shirt with his chest all exposed a bit... much?"

"I think it's nice. No, that's not what I meant. Anyway. That manly tanned skin and wheat-colored hair. Don't you think it pairs perfectly with Her Excellency's milk-white skin and platinum blonde hair?"

"Oh my, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠oh my, this girl's lost it! She's gone mad!"

Squeals. Squeals. Squeals.

The red-robed squad was huddled together again today, quite a distance from the iron bars. I could hear every word. You idiots. I can hear you.

No, seriously—what the hell are you doing, leaving a prisoner sitting in his cell while you gossip like this?

...These women were completely mistaken.

Among the countless nicknames game users had given Emilia, there was one that didn't suit a villainess at all: Emilia of Pure Love.

It was because she had loved Crown Prince Kaisenn Rosenheim to the very end—the same fiancé who had killed her in dozens of different ways across countless bad endings.

That was also why Emilia was called the 'villainess who dies ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no matter what' in the original story.

- Your Highness, how could you burn me at the stake!

- Your Highness, how could you send me to the guillotine!

- Your Highness, how could you exile me!

- Your Highness, how could you make me a slave!

No matter what Emilia did, the Crown Prince loved the original heroine and destroyed her in every possible way for the heroine's sake. Burning at the stake, beheading, guillotine, exile. And whenever he exiled her abroad instead of killing her himself, she'd end up dead by bandits or riddled with assassins' blades.

Yet every time the game was replayed, Emilia would unwaveringly love the Crown Prince, fight the heroine over his affection, and meet a miserable end in defeat every single time.

It had already been two full days since I'd been locked up in this underground dungeon. The person responsible for throwing me in here—the leader of the rebellion, the master of the Magic Tower, my former boss, Emilia—hadn't shown her face at all.

Of course she hasn't.

She must resent me. Even if, as a man, she only loved the Crown Prince, I was the only person in the world Emilia had ever opened her heart to.

I had no regrets. By doing what I did, I had saved Emilia from her destruction ending.

Since I've successfully raised my favorite character, it's only natural to quit the game without any lingering attachments.

Anyway, I'd come to kill her fiancé but found that traitorous butler who'd run away from home years ago, so I just grabbed him while I was at it. It wasn't like I had any particular attachment to the guy.

It's been three years. She should have cooled off by now.

It seemed Emilia had forgotten about my existence after capturing me, though.

Squeal squeal!

...Just from the red-robed squad's reaction alone, what I needed to do now was clear.

Escape from this place somehow.

Emilia was in the middle of preparing for her ascension ceremony as the new emperor. No matter how corrupt and rotten the empire was, and even if they lacked the power to oppose an unparalleled genius mage, a scandal about the new emperor at this time would be disastrous.

By now, the entire scandal-hungry public must be sharpening their knives, desperately hoping for even the slightest flaw to exploit.

It reminds me of the broken engagement event.

It was an old story from many years ago now. Back when I was at the academy with Emilia. The event I had barely managed to trigger right before the graduation ceremony where judgment was passed: the broken engagement with the Crown Prince.

Even though Emilia had been ostracized among the capital's noble young ladies, any normal noble daughter would naturally empathize with Emilia's position and feel anger toward the mistress.

Before the shock of the photo showing the Saintess Candidate with her chest fully exposed lying in bed with him had even faded, he declared a broken engagement with his noble fiancée a few days later to marry the mistress.

If Emilia gained sympathy among the nobles and her reputation improved from before, the honor of the original heroine and the Crown Prince didn't just fall to the ground—it was shredded to pieces.

It was killing two birds with one stone.

Since I'd sent both the Crown Prince and the Saintess Candidate—those empty-headed idiots—to their graves at the same time.

With the success of the broken engagement event, I had finally destroyed Emilia's destruction ending route. But even so, Emilia herself couldn't avoid becoming the subject of juicy gossip among the nobles.

For years, whenever two or more empire nobles gathered anywhere, it became the hottest issue passionately ripped apart.

The position Emilia needs to maintain at this point is clear.

"I am married to the nation!"

Even if she someday took some weak-powered but decent-looking second son from a noble family as a suitable consort, the pure virgin queen concept was best for now. A scandal with a thuggish-looking tanned blond butler? That was out of the question.

This is dangerous as is.

If I left that red-robed squad alone, it was obvious that within a few weeks an article like The New Empire's Consort Candidate Is the Empress's Childhood Friend! would come out.

Those mages in their bizarre outfits of scarlet robes and garter belts had been staring at me inside the iron bars from afar like a zoo monkey this whole time, chattering away. They absolutely refused to come within a ten-meter radius, as if a barrier had been cast around me.

I'm not a plague patient or anything.

Even when putting food into the cell, they would place the bowl on the floor from a distance so their fingertips wouldn't touch me, then quickly retreat. I could feel their bloody determination not to get any closer than a certain distance.

And that wasn't all. It wasn't just that they didn't talk to me—they wouldn't even respond when I spoke to them! Even when distributing food, they would turn their heads to avoid making eye contact, carefully set down the tray, and bolt.

Clang!

"Ah! You skipped it again? You can't do that!"

Ah. There was exactly one exception.

My lunch person. The one who came every mealtime to leave food for me—this woman in priestess robes.

The red-robed squad would disappear around noon and come back in a group to stand guard when the sun set. In the meantime, it was this little priestess Remy who was in charge of my meals.

The others, no matter how much I tried to talk to them at mealtimes, would avoid eye contact and hurry away. And that wasn't all.

- Is the seat uncomfortable by any chance?

- Does the blanket smell? I'll change it for a new one!

Had Emilia become a human rights advocate? Even though I was locked in a prison, there was nothing lacking compared to when I lived outside. Even the fact that...

The handcuffs don't hurt even though I'm wearing them.

Mana Handcuffs. They restrict a mage's power by sealing the flow of mana. One was fastened on each of my wrists and ankles.

There were even earrings on my ears. I scratched both earlobes with my fingers.

Right before being thrown into this iron cell, what the mages did after pinning me down.

- What the hell are you doing? If you're going to kill me, do it nicely. I hate pain!

- Hold still! Everyone grab this bastard tight!

It was an order from Her Excellency not to leave any wounds on his body.

Crack—.

Mana Control Stone. The places where a mage's mana is most effective are the brain and the heart.

I already had a face that people said looked like a thug, and now I even had earrings. A red gem the color of Emilia's eyes. An incredibly expensive-looking Mana Control Stone had been embedded in both my ears from the day I arrived here.

It wasn't a nose ring, so that was something, but the problem was...

Not a single bit of mana is gathering.

Even if I wasn't on the level of an unparalleled genius mage, I should have been able to overpower the small fry mages here. But like this, all the mana I'd accumulated over my life was useless.

A mage with a Mana Control Stone was no different from an ordinary person. Considering most mages had terrible physical stamina, I was probably worse than an ordinary person.

I have to escape somehow.

Even so, if Emilia was willing to face me alone, her skills must be considerable. Still, compared to the mages coming and going here, she was the one who treated me relatively kindly.

"You didn't eat any of it again?"

I looked into her sky-blue eyes filled with genuine worry. Eyes that, befitting a priestess, didn't know how to suspect people. A face that looked a few years younger than Emilia, and a small build. Was she about 150cm tall? Her chubby cheeks reminded me of Emilia at her softest, right before we parted three years ago.

Tricking a kid like this was nothing.

And above all. From my previous life until now after possessing this body, women had always been kind to me.

A priestess should help the weak and heal the sick, right?

"It's not okay, Priestess. I couldn't sleep at all yesterday, you know?"

"Y-yes?"

At my teasing, the little priestess's earlobes turned red.

"From yesterday, my ears have been so itchy that I couldn't sleep. See here?"

"Hiiiik! Blood! Oh my goodness! A-are you okay??"

I showed her both ears alternately, which I'd deliberately scratched with my fingers earlier to cause inflammation. After the red-robed squad left, I'd messed them up on purpose, and they were covered in blood.

It must have been effective because the kid's face turned pale at the sight.

Sorry. I did this an hour ago.

"Could you take them off for just a moment? It's really too itchy. Look at this inflammation. It's so itchy I can't sleep at night, you know?"

"Aaaah, that's not possible. I absolutely can't remove that. Just a moment!"

"?!"

Whoosh!

The moment she covered both my ears with her palms, a brilliant light poured out. The itchiness and pain disappeared.

This kid was a healing mage.

What a shame. Tsk.

If I could just have her take the earrings off while I was at it, it'd be a jackpot. If not, I'd ask her to bring some medicine, and when she turned around, I'd hit her on the head with the handcuffs—but she didn't know ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what I was thinking as she sat there with a face like she'd eaten shit. The little one poured all her strength into casting heal on my ears.

By the way. Since she was pouring healing power into my ears while I was sitting, from the outside it probably looked like this kid was embracing me.

She must have realized that too because she was embarrassed; both her earlobes had turned bright red.

Hmm, I hope I don't get punished for this.

My current clothes were the same ones I'd worn to the party. There was a reason the red-robed squad was whispering. I'd come wearing a shirt that revealed my chest muscles to appeal to the noble young ladies.

Since the kid was so short, while pouring the heal, her face ended up practically buried in my chest.

Not knowing where to look, her sky-blue eyes were trembling in distress.

Looking at that face I really wanted to tease... something kept coming to mind...

Ah. That's right, Emilia used to do this often too.

Since a lowly guy like me had taken the positions of the duke's daughter's escort knight, butler, and closest attendant, there were many jealous people in the duke's castle. Because of those people, I got injured countless times during training.

Every time, Emilia would do this for me.

Our magic genius young lady was proficient not only in fire magic but in all attributes, including healing magic.

Emilia would call me to the study like this whenever I was badly injured from sword training.

- Never get hurt. Because this body's owner is me.

- Don't damage my property.

She'd say it in such a prickly way, but her ears would always turn red just like now.

That was inevitable. Our young lady had no experience dealing with men other than me.

No matter how much we were like siblings, we weren't actually blood-related.

Anyway.

Seeing a child who resembled young Emilia in many ways felt new.

...If Emilia had grown up normally, would she have become like this kid?

In a normal, ordinary noble or commoner family instead of a ducal house. With loving and kind parents and siblings.

If that had been the case...

"B-Brother...?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Remy called out to me as I remained motionless even though the wound on my ear had long since healed cleanly. It must have been too burdensome, the way I was staring.

I must have been staring too intently while recalling Emilia from my memories through Remy.

Remy's face had turned as red as if it were on fire as she looked at me.

"Uh, yeah?"

Without realizing it, my hand went up to Remy's head.

- Ian! I got all the questions right on the magic test!

Just like the habit I had whenever there was something to praise Emilia for.

"Thank you, Priestess."

My hand was already on her head. I stroked Remy's hair.

It was at that moment.

BOOOOM!

The massive door of the prison burst open as if it had been blown off its hinges.

"Get away from the holy mage, you male prostitute."

A chilling voice that seemed capable of lowering the temperature inside the prison, dripping with coldness.

The traitor and the new emperor of the empire. The master of the Magic Tower and the greatest mastermind in this world.

Emilia was walking into the underground dungeon.