I Reincarnated as My Favorite Villainess Saint (Magic Marza), So I’ll Use Game Knowledge to Smash Every Doom Flag! - Chapter 11

Consciousness surfaced from the darkness.

The first thing I felt was an exhaustion that reached the marrow of my bones, as if my body was creaking under the strain. It was the extreme fatigue of working three days and nights without sleep, then being forced to run a full marathon.

Slowly opening my eyelids, I saw an unfamiliar wooden ceiling.

(Where am I?)

As my gaze wandered, I locked eyes with a man sitting in a chair beside the bed, arms crossed as he watched me. Sun-tanned skin, amber eyes.

“Lord Liner…”

My voice came out hoarse as I whispered. His eyes widened, and he hastily rose from his chair.

“Saint! You’re awake!”

None of the sharp hostility from the evening party remained in his voice. Instead, there was awkward concern, bewilderment, and something like reverence as if he were looking at something incomprehensible.

Apparently, I’d been laid to rest in his guesthouse bed.

“You, just what did you…”

Liner placed a hand on his chest as if confirming something.

“My body feels light. That suffocating pressure that’s been binding me, it’s gone, like it was never there.”

Those amber eyes pierced straight through me.

“Did you purify that curse from my very soul?”

Instead of answering, I simply gazed back at him quietly. I didn’t even have the strength left to wear Lydia’s mask anymore.

Liner seemed to take that as confirmation. He scratched his head roughly, then, as if making up his mind, dropped to one knee.

“I won’t forget this debt. No matter who you really are, from now on, my sword is yours.”

(Another loyal follower gained and this time, the straightforward musclehead type.)

Through my hazy consciousness, I stared into the distance. What I wanted was to avoid destruction flags, not loyalty routes from capture targets. My stomach was already protesting its limits.

Just then, a violent pounding shook the guesthouse door, hard enough to break it.

“Lord Liner! You’re in there, aren’t you? Open up!”

A familiar, intellectual voice. Liner frowned suspiciously and opened the door.

Standing there, breathless, was Claude.

“Lord Ansbach. What business do you have?”

“Lady Lydia must be here!”

Claude pushed past Liner into the room, his eyes widening when he saw me lying weakened on the bed. Immediately, his sharp gaze turned back to Liner.

“Lord Liner, what have you done to Lady Lydia?! Why is she in such a state?!”

“None of your damn business,” Liner growled low.

“The Saint is my benefactor. Right now, she needs rest.”

“Benefactor? What nonsense! Lady Lydia is also the Ansbach family’s greatest benefactor! How could you leave her in such a state in this shabby guesthouse?!”

“What? Yours too?”

Sparks flew between them. One the brilliant heir of a ducal house. The other, the blunt and straightforward son of a border count. Two men who should never have crossed paths now stood opposed over me.

(Stop, don’t fight over me.)

My head throbbed. I didn’t even have the energy to retort. All I could do was weakly watch their argument unfold.

“I will take responsibility and escort Lady Lydia to my estate. She’ll receive the finest medical care.”

“Don’t screw with me! The Saint might want to stay here!”

“Do you truly think Lady Lydia in this state can make rational decisions?!”

In the end, Claude’s “finest medical care” argument won out.

Without another word, he strode to the bed and unhesitatingly scooped me into his arms, the so-called princess carry.

“What?!” Liner was speechless.

“Don’t lay a hand on Lady Lydia!”

“This is an emergency. Courtesy can wait.”

With that, Claude carried me out of the room without another glance.

Liner watched us go, frustration plain on his face, before shouting one last thing:

“Saint! If you need anything, I’ll come running! Don’t forget that!”

As I was carried into the carriage, cradled in Claude’s arms, my consciousness finally reached its limit.

(Being princess-carried by a capture target really isn’t the time for this.)

The long, turbulent night was finally coming to an end.