Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 101: Lynn! 

"Run... now!"

When the anguished voice echoed through the mountain range, the subordinates gathered outside the underground ruins abruptly looked up.

An expression of disbelief spread across their faces.

That voice... Was it Her Highness Yveste?!

An absurd thought surfaced in their minds.

In their memories, Her Highness Yveste had always been a figure of unyielding strength and fearsome authority.

Her presence was majestic and solemn, her gaze sharp as a blade. She could effortlessly suppress even the most troublesome cultist uprisings that would baffle others.

Even Fifth-Rank Legendary Extraordinaries couldn’t last more than a few moves against her.

But only those closest to her, like Afia, knew the true cost of achieving such overwhelming power.

Each time Yveste devoured a Sealed Artifact, she awoke even more terrifying than before.

At times, even her personality would grow more extreme and volatile.

This was why the outside world viewed her with a mix of revulsion and fear.

Only a rare few who were close to her occasionally harbored the thought, "Her Highness is so pitiful."

So now, as Yveste’s voice echoed through the valley, the subordinates from the Augusta Estate instantly resolved to follow her command.

If even a Sixth-Rank Demigod couldn’t handle the crisis, what use would their presence be?

Yet Afia, upon hearing the voice laced with chaos and pain, immediately transformed into her feline form and leapt toward the underground ruins.

The next moment, threads of shadow materialized and ensnared her hind legs, holding her firmly in place.

"Don’t be reckless!"

Morris frowned deeply, as though sensing something ominous, and shouted in warning.

"But Her Highness—"

Afia tried to protest.

But before she could finish, a wave of chilling, despairing energy swept through the area.

The black, muddy torrent burst forth like a geyser, surging out in an instant!

The endless black sludge, upon sensing the abundance of life nearby, seemed to express something akin to joy.

Noticing the presence of Duke Tyrius and the thousands of soldiers behind him, the dark flood rushed forward in a frenzy.

"All troops, form a defensive line!"

Though Duke Tyrius’s face was pale with shock, he reacted immediately, giving a decisive command.

In the center of the formation, the Extraordinaries responsible for the defensive matrix activated their powers, triggering the barrier effects of their Sealed Artifacts. ɌÄƝỐβÈš

At the same time, Duke Tyrius’s body radiated a pale purple Extraordinary Power, which erupted into a ferocious, invisible gravitational force. He tried to pin the disgusting black sludge to the ground.

But it was futile.

The sludge was shapeless and intangible, like a liquid yet flowing as freely as air.

Physical attacks, no matter how powerful, proved utterly ineffective against the black sludge.

The wave of black sludge surged like a tidal wave, crashing down with unstoppable force.

Under the horrified gazes of countless onlookers, the fragile defense barrier formed by the Sealed Artifacts shattered in an instant. The sludge poured into the ranks like a deluge, scattering the once-orderly formation into chaos.

Afia stared at the horrifying scene in terror. She instinctively leapt to higher ground, desperately avoiding the encroaching black sludge.

The next moment, the soldiers touched by the sludge began screaming hysterically.

“N-no! Please, no!!!!”

One soldier’s stomach swelled rapidly, bulging grotesquely. Before the others could react, his abdomen exploded with a loud bang!

Yet, instead of blood and entrails, golden coins bearing the engraved image of Saint Roland VI scattered into the air.

The sludge had read the soldier’s desire for wealth and twisted it into a horrifyingly perverse fulfillment.

“Help me! Someone, please help me!!!”

Another soldier’s desperate cries followed.

His arms and chest began to swell at an unnatural speed, as if his muscles were being enhanced tenfold. Thick veins pulsed violently, grotesquely inflamed and gnarled.

But his lower body remained unchanged. Losing his balance, he toppled to the ground.

Yet the swelling in his upper body continued unabated.

Swelling!

Swelling!

Swelling!

“Boom!!!”

Finally, his muscles could no longer contain the force. His body burst apart, sending blood and gore splattering everywhere.

The sludge had twisted his wish to become stronger into another grotesque reality.

And it wasn’t just these two.

All around the valley, similarly sanity-shattering scenes unfolded.

One soldier tore open his own stomach, pulling out a grotesque, black infant. Another sprouted wings from his back but lost control, soaring skyward only to smash fatally into the mountain wall.

Still others melted into puddles of flesh, from which slimy, writhing maggots began to crawl.

Hidden in the shadows, Morris watched the unfolding carnage, cold sweat dripping down his face.

He exchanged a glance with Afia, and they both saw the same despair reflected in each other’s eyes.

This wasn’t a Level-2 Sealed Artifact. It was...

“Level-0!!!”

Duke Tyrius’s face twisted with rage.

“Damn it, damn it all! Caldron, you bastard, you lied to me too!!!”

As he stared at his rapidly dwindling elite forces, his heart bled.

Was this a ploy by the Emperor himself? Had the centuries-old Elector Count system finally become too much of a threat? Was this an elaborate scheme to use a catastrophe as a blade to cut down regional powers and consolidate imperial authority?

A profound sense of betrayal welled up within him, fueling his fury.

As a Fifth-Rank Legendary Extraordinary, Tyrius barely managed to survive amidst the Level-0 Sealed Artifact's chaos.

But his soldiers were not so fortunate.

These were his personal guards—the crème de la crème of his elite forces—yet they were utterly powerless against the overwhelming effects of a Level-0 Sealed Artifact.

What now?!

The same desperate thought raced through everyone’s mind.

“As Her Highness instructed... let’s run.”

After a long and agonizing internal struggle, Morris gritted his teeth and finally spoke.

As a Third-Rank Extraordinary, he might have been considered strong in the mundane world. But in this crisis—one even Her Highness Yveste was struggling to endure—there was no point in making meaningless sacrifices.

"You!!!"

Afia glared at him furiously, unable to find the words to express her anger.

Yet it was clear his suggestion was met with silent approval from everyone else.

Among Yveste’s subordinates, nearly all present were Extraordinaries.

With their decision made, they moved swiftly.

But before they could make much progress, screams of agony erupted from the base of the mountain.

“The Divine Order Church! How dare you...!”

“Why are you killing people?! We’re not Polluted!”

“Damn it! Are you trying to get us all annihilated in this cursed mountain?!”

Amidst the cries, another cold, commanding voice echoed across the mountain range.

“Apologies, but these are the orders.”

“All of you are to remain within the Soren Mountains to defend the Empire’s honor. Resist to your deaths.”

This chilling declaration, along with the formation of a powerful barrier sealing off the mountain range, snuffed out the last glimmer of hope in everyone’s hearts.

Fleeing the encroaching black sludge, the trapped group descended into chaos, screaming and wailing in despair.

What they thought would be an ordinary mission had turned into a nightmare.

A single, fatal misstep had doomed them all to an inescapable hell.

Why?

Why must we die?!

This anguished thought surfaced in the minds of nearly everyone still alive.

Morris sank to the ground in despair, his eyes filled with hopelessness.

Ahead of them lay the rampaging Level-0 Sealed Artifact. Behind them, supposed allies had blocked their only escape route.

Everyone was going to die.

The same grim realization dawned on Afia, her heart sinking as the horror closed in.

Faced with the towering black wave, dozens of meters high, and the endless, writhing sludge behind it, Afia stood frozen. Her gaze drifted upward, her body seemingly paralyzed, unable to move.

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, a strange, inexplicable emotion rose within her.

She had thought that ever since that winter—when Her Highness Yveste had cradled her half-dead body in her arms—she was ready to lay down her life for her.

But now, standing on the brink of doom, she felt an unexpected reluctance.

Am I... going to die too?

Her ears twitched faintly, and she slowly transformed back into her human form.

Afia looked down at her bare, pale feet, momentarily lost and unsure.

But the encroaching black sludge didn’t slow, heedless of the emotions swirling within its victims.

The valley was suffocating under the shadow of death and despair.

In mere fractions of a second, the tidal wave of black sludge would engulf the entire mountain range, leaving nothing but grotesque, horrific deaths in its wake.

This was supposed to be a moment anchored in the river of time—immutable and unavoidable.

And yet...

For some reason, it felt as though the hand of fate, nudged by some anomaly, had plucked at the thread binding them to their inevitable demise.

“Boom!!!”

A sudden figure—a young man—exploded into view. His movements were wild and beastlike, shattering the ground beneath his feet as he launched himself forward.

In a flash, he vanished into the entrance of the underground ruins, leaving everyone else behind.

A powerful surge of air and wind swept through the valley, blowing away the black sludge that had been smothering it.

The entire scene unfolded as smoothly as a heated knife slicing through butter.

And not just that.

In the wake of the figure’s passage, the previously nightmarish sludge, so aggressive and unrestrained, seemed to falter.

It stopped.

As though subjected to some overwhelming suppression—something that struck at its very core, its essence and soul—the sludge froze in place, its will to attack utterly snuffed out.

Moments later, like a retreating tide, the black sludge scattered in all directions, fleeing as if in terror.

What... just happened?!

Afia stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly.

A strange, unfamiliar sensation coursed through her body, leaving her legs weak.

That figure—why did it feel so hauntingly familiar?

Could it be...

No, impossible!

The absurd thought surfaced in her mind, and she instinctively shook her head, trying to dispel it.

But she wasn’t alone in her reaction.

The overwhelming relief of narrowly escaping certain death surged through everyone, filling their hearts with joy and disbelief.

"Who... who was that figure just now?!"

Someone cried out in shock, clutching their trembling shoulder while shouting with raw emotion.

Unfortunately, the individual’s strength seemed overwhelming, and their speed was astonishingly fast. No one could make out their appearance clearly.

“Lynn!!! That guy was Lynn!!!”

Suddenly, someone raised their arm high and shouted the name as if declaring hope to the heavens.

The crowd turned their attention in unison.

Amid them, Greya was shouting with excitement, her voice shaking with emotion.

“Though I don’t know what he can do... at least we’re saved!!!”

...

Inside the Pantheon.

A cold and solitary witch with snow-white hair sat quietly by the steps, as usual. Sealed by chains of order, she was alone, her only companion the book in her hands.

It was the Chronicles of Xino.

If it’s him, he should be able to decipher the hints hidden within, right?

Her eyes seemed to trace the words on the page, but her focus wandered elsewhere.

According to the original trajectory of fate, coupled with the hints she had left behind, Lynn Bartleon should already be aboard the train heading back to the Imperial Capital by now.

She wondered silently, What kind of scene will it be when we meet again?

Expressionless, the Witch of the End closed the book in her hands, deep in thought.

However,

In a corner she wasn’t paying attention to, the chains of order that dangled from the palms of the towering statue began to show faint, hairline cracks on their surface.

As if... foreshadowing something ominous.

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