Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

At the Augusta Estate, in the reception room.

With Yveste's sudden declaration, the room fell into a brief silence.

It seemed that everyone had been stunned by her words, left unsure of how to respond. In their eyes, Her Highness the Princess, though having faced numerous setbacks on her path, had never given up on her ideals of becoming the next ruler of the Saint Roland Empire.

No one knew where her obsession stemmed from, but her unyielding determination was terrifying.

Anyone else, having lived through her experiences, would likely have crumbled mentally and become a mere shell of their former self.

Perhaps it was this very resilience that, while instilling fear in many, also garnered a sliver of respect from her followers.

Outsiders wouldn’t understand, but as her subordinates, they knew just how difficult her journey had been.

That was why everyone had resolved to devote their lives to her vision.

But now, things seemed to be taking a sudden turn.

The Princess, who could not be brought down by any hardship, had just announced—right in front of the Saint Oak Institution's envoy—that she wanted to give up the Succession Ceremony?

What... what was going on?!

Not only Morris and Greya but even Duke Tyrius’s expression changed drastically.

"Your Highness, choose your words carefully!"

He looked sternly at Yveste. Yet, after locking eyes with her cold and indifferent crimson gaze for just a moment, a chill ran down his spine.

What... was she planning?

Following Duke Tyrius’s lead, the other subordinates also began voicing their concerns.

"Have you forgotten your ideals, Your Highness?"

"That’s right, Your Highness. The Succession Ceremony is only in its first phase. Even though the other princes have scores accumulated from previous years, it’s not impossible for you to catch up."

"It’s just... just over 500 points. We’ll think of something and help you make up the difference!"

Their voices overlapped, each trying to persuade her.

But deep down, they all knew the truth.

Without Lynn, there was no way they could achieve a feat worthy of over 500 points in less than two weeks.

Still, no one wanted to give up so easily.

Unfortunately, Yveste seemed unmoved.

After speaking those words, she reverted to her usual calm and aloof demeanor, as though nothing in the world could pique her interest.

At this moment, the brown-haired youth from the Saint Oak Institution stepped forward and bowed slightly.

"My apologies, Princess Yveste," he said. "You should understand that the Saint Oak Institution is only responsible for ensuring the Succession Ceremony operates normally, as well as recording rankings and scores. As for your request to withdraw, that is beyond our jurisdiction."

"Unless you are disqualified by the rules or perish yourself, we have no authority to strip you of your eligibility."

"Furthermore, the decision to participate in the Succession Ceremony is not yours to make."

His voice was calm and measured.

"It is an obligation for every prince and princess to participate, not something that can be dismissed as a mere whim."

"Therefore, I advise you to use the remaining time to achieve sufficient merit and bring your score out of negative territory. If you fail to meet the goal within two weeks, there will be no need for you to withdraw voluntarily. I will personally announce your disqualification."

The youth’s methodical explanation made it clear that Yveste’s request was denied.

But in the end, it didn’t seem to make much difference.

Yveste had already lost all desire to continue the Succession Ceremony and was determined to abandon it.

No amount of persuasion from her subordinates could sway her resolve.

"..."

The oppressive atmosphere grew colder as Yveste remained silent.

Noticing this, Afia, her eyes slightly red, gestured for the others to stand down. Then, with a complicated expression, she wheeled the Princess out of the reception room.

It’s them.

Feeling the cold blade against his neck, Lynn’s expression remained composed.

While other forces might also be involved, the primary culprits were undoubtedly the Mosgra Family and the Divine Order Church.

The Mosgra Family was an obvious one. After he personally killed their heir, Dallion, at the banquet, their enmity became irreconcilable.

The Divine Order Church, however, was an even greater threat.

He had destroyed their influence in Orne City with his own hands and, using the power of the Demon of Creation, wiped out over a hundred of their Extraordinary members in an instant.

That kind of loss was immense.

Even a typical First-Rank Extraordinary, especially one who worshipped "Divine Order," wielded destructive powers often tied to gravity, air currents, or magnetic fields. Such abilities could easily overpower dozens of trained soldiers.

In a frontier city like this, over a hundred low-ranked Extraordinary members were as valuable as an army of nearly ten thousand soldiers.

Yet Lynn had completely eradicated them.

That was why the Divine Order Church was so desperate to hunt him down in the Soren Mountains. To confirm his death.

"You don’t seem scared at all?"

The burly mercenary leading the group looked surprised at Lynn’s unshaken demeanor.

A faint blue glow of Divine Factors shimmered on his skin, making it difficult to discern his exact allegiance.

One Second-Rank Extraordinary. Two First-Rank.

If that’s all, there’s no need to waste time.

Glancing down at the loyal guard’s corpse lying in a pool of blood, Lynn’s expression grew colder.

"Of course, I’m not scared," he said, gripping the blade at his throat lightly. "Because the dead can’t kill anyone."

"The dead?"

"That’s right."

As Lynn spoke, crimson light flared in his eyes.

"You’re already dead."

"And the dead can’t kill anyone."

The lie escaped his lips.

With the surge of the Lie Eater’s power, the invisible force of his words etched themselves like a cursed sigil into their minds.

The two First-Rank Extraordinary members couldn’t resist for even a moment.

In an instant, they believed they were already dead.

Their widened eyes remained filled with disbelief as their bodies stiffened and collapsed to the ground.

Lynn stood over them, unfazed. He had seen similar cases in his past life.

In dreams, some people have experienced their own death, and their subconscious accepted this signal, leading to actual brain death.

Right now, what Lynn had done was essentially the same.

I... I’m already dead?

The burly mercenary, the sole Second-Rank Extraordinary among them, suddenly lost all expression in his eyes. His grip on the longsword slackened, and in the next moment, his bear-like body collapsed with a heavy thud, stirring up a cloud of dust.

In just five seconds, with a single sentence, Lynn had killed three fairly powerful Extraordinary individuals.

This was his current strength.

Thanks to the system, Lynn could fully maximize his Divine Factors, and with the Witch’s assistance, he had undergone secondary enhancement.

At this point, he was several times stronger than the Second-Rank Extraordinary before him.

In the world of the Extraordinary, the strong wielded an absolute, terrifying dominion over the weak.

And the quantity and quality of Divine Factors determined everything.

Of course, this particular use of the Lie Eater's power was only effective against the weak—those with fragile mental fortitude.

If he faced a stronger Second-Rank Extraordinary or someone protected by a mental Sealed Artifact, it would be impossible to kill them with mere lies.

Lynn crouched, stripped the clothes off the corpses, and changed into them himself.

Then, picking up the fallen longsword, he used it like a shovel to dig a pit, burying the loyal guard who had died searching for him.

When all was done, he quickened his pace and left the mountain range.

In a carriage, Duke Tyrius rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

After Her Highness had left the reception room, he had followed her, spending some time trying to dissuade her from giving up so easily.

Though earning 576 points in two weeks seemed daunting, it wasn’t entirely impossible if he offered his full support.

But it would require Yveste’s active cooperation.

After all, it had taken Lynn just over ten days to dismantle the Divine Order Church’s influence, while also amassing two million gold coins from various churches.

Even so, the feat had only netted 500 points.

To achieve something even greater than Lynn’s accomplishment, everyone would need to give it their all.

Currently, Orne City was reeling from disaster, still in a state of disarray. Duke Tyrius’s thoughts turned to the demon battlefields.

For the empire, demons were the most vexing enemy.

Although a ceasefire agreement had recently been signed, Tyrius knew it was little more than a formality. War could resume at any moment.

His trip to this frontier city to reclaim taxes had, in fact, been to fund military efforts.

Now, perhaps, was the perfect time to launch an offensive.

After all, he wasn’t counting on the demons to uphold any sort of agreement.

If that were the case, why not strike first?

And when it came to quickly earning points in the Succession Ceremony, military achievements were undoubtedly the best route.

Yveste’s foundation was painfully weak.

In contrast, the Second Prince’s staggering lead of over 10,000 points was so insurmountable it bordered on despair.

The other princes and princesses all had the backing of their maternal families, along with support from prominent nobles and churches.

For years, these factions had been quietly accumulating points for them, resulting in their terrifying scores.

To Tyrius, resolving the Level 0 Sealed Artifact incident for a reward of 1,500 points had already been an extraordinary feat—so generous that it was almost unthinkable.

From the perspective of the Imperial Capital’s elites, this incident had affected only a frontier city and resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of "lowly commoners," a negligible loss.

Do the math.

In less than a month since Lynn had arrived at the Augusta Estate, he had helped Yveste amass 3,000 points, equivalent to one-third of the Second Prince Felit’s score.

If Yveste’s starting point hadn’t been so poor, her rank might already have climbed to sixth or seventh place.

One month.

It had only taken a month.

Achieving such a result in just one month was staggering. Even Felit himself would be shaken if he knew.

It was like smashing Felit and the nobles and churches supporting him into the ground, humiliating them thoroughly.

The Second Prince's commanding position in the rankings, with over 10,000 points, had been achieved through years of resource investment—both visible and hidden—worth tens of millions of gold coins.

Yet Lynn, with just his wit and hands, had achieved this.

No wonder Felit had been so eager to meet him, even offering 300,000 gold coins for the chance.

But alas, such an extraordinary talent was now dead.

And Yveste had entirely shut herself off.

Tyrius sighed.

He had considered breaking off his alliance with Yveste, given that their relationship had been entirely orchestrated by Lynn.

Now that Lynn was gone, there seemed little reason to continue.

But when he recalled the boy’s expression during their farewell—the meaningful look in his eyes—Tyrius couldn’t shake the feeling that there might still be a chance.

Perhaps...

For some inexplicable reason, even though everyone was convinced Lynn was dead, Tyrius felt uneasy.

Would a sly fox like him really lose his head so easily, sacrificing himself impulsively for a woman?

A sudden thought flashed through Duke Tyrius's mind, stirring a strange impulse within him.

"Turn around," he ordered his guard. "Head to the Bartleon Estate. Let’s have a look."

By dusk, Lynn finally found his way back to Orne City, following his memories.

At this moment, he looked like a handsome beggar—dusty and travel-worn—as he stood in front of the Bartleon Estate, lost in thought.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but in the glow of the setting sun, the estate seemed eerily sinister. Not a single light illuminated its windows, and the tightly shut gate only added to the lifeless atmosphere.

It felt as though no one was inside.

Lynn stopped a passerby and started to ask, "Excuse me—"

But before he could finish, the passerby glanced at the estate and immediately turned pale. Pulling Lynn into a nearby alley, he whispered, "That estate is tied to a lot of powerful figures. I’d advise you to stay far away. Don’t get involved."

"Details," Lynn demanded, slipping a few silver coins into the man’s hand.

The passerby’s eyes lit up at the sight of the money. He glanced around cautiously before lowering his voice even further.

"About a month ago, the Third Princess, Yveste, suddenly showed up at the estate in a frenzy. She had every servant in the place arrested and sentenced to death. Not a single one was spared."

"The rumor going around is that it was because those servants used to bully that so-called 'Disgrace of the Nobility' when he was exiled here."

Lynn’s expression shifted slightly, his mind racing.

It seemed that news of his "death" had left those at the Augusta Estate deeply grieved.

But what about this mysterious princess? Why would she react so intensely to his death?

Or perhaps this was just another distorted rumor, twisted and exaggerated by gossipmongers?

After a moment of reflection, Lynn waved his hand dismissively. "That’s enough. You can go."

"Wait, I’m not done yet!" The passerby, apparently a local busybody, was practically glowing with excitement as Lynn pushed him away. "They say that after executing the servants, she cleared the entire estate of anything related to that Bartleon kid. Clothes, furniture—everything. Now the place is completely empty. There’s nothing—"

This is getting more absurd by the second.

She doesn’t even know me. Why would she take my clothes?

After finally shooing the overly enthusiastic gossip away, Lynn returned to the estate gates, shaking his head in exasperation.

It seemed he wouldn’t be able to return home any time soon. Not that he had planned to. His purpose here was simple: to retrieve a few specific items.

Particularly, letters sent from the Imperial Capital.

Those letters had been intercepted by the household servants before he could ever see them.

He was deeply concerned about his younger sister and his missing sister-in-law, both of whom were in precarious situations.

There were only four members left in the Bartleon family: himself, his sister, his sister-in-law (pregnant with the child of his deceased elder brother), and their comatose father, bedridden and barely alive.

As these thoughts consumed him, a sudden screech of brakes pierced the air, snapping him out of his reverie.

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