Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 162: The Turn of Lynn, the Love Saint

Lynn stared in silence at the powder that trickled from Yveste’s hand, once a Recording Stone, now reduced to dust.

Noticing the turmoil and conflict in his heart, Yveste’s eyes grew hazy, her thoughts veering toward impulsive desires. She wanted nothing more than to cup his face and kiss him then and there. But she resisted, suppressing the urges that bubbled up from the depths of her heart.

If this were her old self, she would have rushed to use the footage to smear that wretched woman’s reputation without a second thought.

But now, with the insights she had gained from her recent enlightenment in "Dragonfield Enlightenment," her strategy had evolved to a new level. She no longer relied on such crude tactics.

The most advanced form of persuasion was always about maintaining a sense of distance. Only by employing a strategy of push and pull—giving and withholding—could she keep a man’s heart perpetually ensnared.

After all, with Lynn’s level of intelligence, there was no way he wouldn’t see the problematic nature of the Recording Stone’s origins.

Though its content was authentic, it had been deliberately edited to exclude crucial context.

So rather than insisting on its validity, it was better to take a step back and deceive him by calling it fake.

Thanks to the assist from the Lie Eater ability, Lynn had now begun doubting the Witch—someone he had always revered and admired.

That alone was enough for Yveste.

As the carriage door creaked open, Yveste swayed her slender waist gracefully as she stepped out.

The banquet was about to begin.

She remained cautious of that woman, Grand Princess Shirina.

...

Late at night, in the Mosgra Estate.

The veiled noblewoman stood by her daughter Eunice’s freshly buried grave, her heart heavy with grief and fury.

The sight of her daughter’s unceremonious funeral, with so few mourners present, stoked the flames of her anger—not just toward Lynn, the culprit, but also toward the cold-hearted members of her own family.

After the funeral ended, she lingered in the cemetery for a long while before leaving, her emotions seething.

Yet, instead of heading straight back to the Mosgra Estate, she made her way to a private residence in the Lower City of Glostein.

The Lower City, being the largest district in the capital, was home to a mix of middle-class residents, common citizens, and various fringe groups and factions.

Though far more polished than the slums, it remained a world apart from the affluent Upper City where the nobility resided.

Under normal circumstances, the veiled noblewoman—born of noble blood—would never set foot in such a place. To her, the air here reeked of the filth of the lower classes.

But now, driven by the need for vengeance for her daughter, she gritted her teeth and crossed that boundary.

Upon arriving at the residence, she went straight to her room.

After issuing strict orders to her servants not to disturb her, she locked the door, drew the heavy curtains, and extinguished all the lights in the room.

The space was soon plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Moments later, eerie green flames flickered to life on the floor, their ghostly glow emanating from an array of spirit candleholders. These were arranged in a peculiar formation across the wooden planks, representing something sinister and unknowable.

Around the candleholders, vivid crimson lines—like bloodstains—spread outward in jagged patterns, converging at the central sacrificial altar.

From above, the formation resembled a grotesque, wrathful face, its gaping maw poised to devour everything in its path.

Staring at the scene before her, the veiled noblewoman recalled the image of her daughter Eunice’s tragic death. Her eyes glinted with malice, and the last remnants of her hesitation dissolved into nothingness.

Soon, the room filled with strange, incomprehensible mutterings.

The sounds were neither fully human nor entirely monstrous—somewhere between the guttural growls of a beast and the incoherent murmurs of a madman.

If an expert in the occult or linguistics were present, they would have easily recognized the veiled noblewoman’s chanting as the ancient language of the Demon Tribe.

Moreover, the blood-red matrix inscribed on the floor bore symbols and structures pointing to a terrifying entity.

She didn’t know this entity’s true name.

All she knew was that the demons revered it as the “King of Malice.”

Of course, given her human status and rank, she had no way of directly communicating with such a being or eliciting a response.

What’s more, for a deity of such high standing, her ritual was woefully inadequate.

But her goal wasn’t to summon a godlike power.

All she needed was to beseech one of the King of Malice’s apostles—an intermediary figure capable of carrying out her vengeance.

Demonic power, with its twisted and corrupt nature, was unlike the extraordinary strength wielded by the followers of the righteous gods. It was perfect for skulking in the shadows and striking unseen.

As far as she knew, the culprit behind the recent string of high-profile murders in the capital—a Fourth-Rank demon disguised as a human completing its ascension trial—might be the ideal candidate.

Yet, she had no certainty that her summoning would succeed.

After all, her method was something she had acquired from the black market of Extraordinaries, untested and unreliable.

As the ancient demonic incantation drew to a close, the green flames flickered faintly, but the room remained eerily quiet.

During the ritual, she vaguely felt an evil gaze sweep over her momentarily before disappearing.

Her heart tightened with unease.

Had she failed?

Had her offering been insufficient to garner the entity’s interest?

A profound sadness welled up within her.

But at this point, there was no turning back.

According to the hooded figure on the black market, once the ritual began, it had to be completed, lest unspeakable consequences follow.

Resolving herself, she uttered the final words of the ritual—the expression of her wish.

“Please help me kill a human named Lynn Bartleon.”

As her words fell, a frigid, malevolent energy instantly descended, and the green flames on the floor surged, casting an eerie glow across the entire room.

The veiled noblewoman’s expression turned to one of terror as she stared at the unfolding scene, unsure of what was happening.

The next moment, a shadowy, bat-like figure descended silently, appearing behind her.

Its mouth dripped with foul-smelling saliva, and it spoke in garbled human language, as though clumsily imitating speech.

Even so, the veiled noblewoman could clearly hear the hatred and murderous intent buried within its voice.

"Tell me… where is he?"

...

Compared to the austere and cold atmosphere of the Council Hall’s ceremonial banquet, the Grand Princess Shirina’s residence was abuzz with warmth and lively laughter.

This was a private masquerade ball, and most of the attendees were young noblewomen from various aristocratic families in Glostein. Women dominated the crowd.

Of course, not all present were female.

To liven up the party and give these reclusive young ladies a chance to broaden their horizons, Shirina had also invited a number of highly esteemed figures in upper society—bestselling authors, musicians, and painters. These guests mingled with the girls, sharing their creative insights and exchanging stories of their travels.

Occasionally, exclamations of amazement and delight arose from the small clusters of people.

Overall, the atmosphere was one of carefree joy.

However, the hostess of the evening’s gathering remained inconspicuous. Shirina stood quietly among the crowd, her face obscured by an angelic mask adorned with white feathers.

She observed the scene before her with an air of contemplation, her thoughts inscrutable.

Yet, from the way her gaze frequently darted toward the entrance, it was easy to infer that she was waiting for someone.

“Your Highness, are you sure Tiya will be attending?”

A voice broke through her thoughts—it was Xiya.

Shirina snapped out of her reverie and looked at him with slight surprise. “Didn’t she notify you?”

“No,” Xiya replied with a shake of his head.

The room was filled with young ladies in swirling skirts, their faces hidden behind a variety of masks, making it impossible to discern their true identities.

As for Tiya’s figure… well, unlike Shirina’s blessed form, it wasn’t particularly distinguishable.

This left Xiya somewhat frustrated as he lowered his head and sipped his wine, declining the invitations extended by a few unfamiliar women.

He and Tiya were supposed to share a relationship of complete openness and intimacy.

But lately, he had felt as if she were hiding something from him.

Take tonight’s banquet, for instance.

If not for Shirina mentioning it offhandedly, he wouldn’t have known about it at all.

Determined to uncover the truth, he decided to come alone and observe—what exactly was Tiya up to?

Just as Xiya found himself lost in thought, he noticed Shirina’s eyes light up.

Following her gaze to the entrance, he spotted two familiar figures.

One of them instantly filled him with intense disgust, allowing him to recognize their identities right away.

The Princess actually invited those two?

A wave of discomfort surged through Xiya’s heart as he instinctively glanced at the Grand Princess beside him.

Sensing his gaze, Shirina looked somewhat apologetic.

However, this invitation was an order from Saint Roland VI himself and directly tied to her Succession Ceremony scoring.

To close the gap between herself and Second Prince Felit, Shirina had to seize every opportunity.

That said, Shirina still held a degree of affection for Xiya.

After all, during that desperate moment when her life hung in the balance, it was Xiya who had risked everything to save her, even bearing a scar on his back that refused to heal to this day. Without him, she would have long since become prey for the Demon Tribe.

Remembering this, Shirina did something unprecedented—she reached out and gently pinched Xiya’s fingertip.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Though her face was hidden behind a mask, she instinctively turned her head away after speaking, as if to hide her momentary lapse of composure.

Despite her usual dignified demeanor as a princess, she had never done something so intimate with a man before.

Looking at Shirina’s slightly flushed earlobes, Xiya felt his heartbeat quicken.

He instinctively wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but Shirina moved away before he could, walking gracefully toward the entrance.

Meanwhile, her gaze lingered briefly on the young man standing beside Her Highness.

Everyone assumed her invitation was for Yveste.

But in truth, her target was the boy who rarely left Yveste’s side.

Following Saint Roland VI’s instructions, Shirina sought to uncover the secrets buried within him.

Of course, Xiya was unaware of any of this.

As he watched Shirina’s stunning figure drift away, a bittersweet feeling arose in his heart, tinged with regret.

Still, there was a hint of sweetness as well.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before his relationship with Her Highness deepened.

Thinking of this, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Xiya’s mouth.

...

Why is Brother Xiya here?!

Hidden alone in a corner of the crowd, Tiya panicked.

She had assumed that with her rare opportunity for a break, Xiya would be catching up with his teammates and certainly wouldn’t attend an event like this.

So when the unexpected guest appeared, Tiya couldn’t help but feel like a guilty thief caught in the act.

Fortunately, she had gone through great lengths to disguise herself tonight. She now appeared as a petite girl with short brown hair, her face hidden behind a full fox mask, and wearing an extravagant ball gown she had never dared to try before.

Compared to her usual image as the Silent Saintess, Tiya now looked radiant and charming, almost unrecognizable.

Tiya had just managed to calm her nerves when she caught sight of Shirina’s flushed cheeks as she lightly touched Xiya’s hand.

Though the touch lasted only a moment before they separated, Xiya seemed momentarily dazed, and a fleeting look of admiration appeared in his eyes.

Tiya had long suspected that their relationship might develop to this point, but seeing it with her own eyes still brought a pang of bitterness to her heart.

If only Brother Xiya could belong to me alone forever.

The young girl, who was supposed to be as emotionless as a doll, found herself experiencing a rare flicker of emotion—a feeling called “desire.”

But the next second, as Shirina moved gracefully away, Tiya snapped out of her daze.

Her gaze instinctively shifted to the entrance, and when her eyes landed on a familiar figure, her expression turned icy.

Since Brother Xiya has that woman to accompany him, he doesn’t need me for now.

For now, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Lynn Bartleon!

...

Shiver.

As Lynn walked, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, causing him to tremble.

It was as if several women were scheming against him at the same time.

But apart from Her Highness Yveste and the Witch, who else would bother?

Lynn glanced at Yveste beside him, only to find her expression as calm and aloof as ever.

Seeing this, Lynn sighed softly.

Just as the two of them entered the venue, one after the other, they were greeted by Shirina, who approached from a distance. She was surrounded by several noble young ladies, her white-feathered mask hiding her face.

“Long time no see, little Yve,” Shirina said, lifting her long hair from her ear with a delicate gesture. Then, as if casually, she added, “And you too, Prince Consort.”

Lynn’s face darkened.

Clearly, Shirina was poking fun at the conflict from their very first meeting.

But Yveste’s tone remained indifferent: “Let’s skip the jokes.”

Shirina gave her sister a curious look.

As her older sister, Shirina knew Yveste well—her body language, her expressions. Normally, Yveste should be in a good mood right now.

Yet for some reason, she seemed cold and distant, her demeanor warning others to stay away.

Did they have a fight?

For Shirina to complete the task Saint Roland VI had assigned her, building a closer relationship with Lynn was an essential step.

As she looked at the two of them, who seemed like a mismatched pair, an idea suddenly sparked in Shirina’s mind.

“Move aside,” Yveste said before Shirina could act, her tone sharp with tension.

Shirina wasn’t offended by such a minor display and responded with a soft smile. “Of course, but before you enter, you’ll need to complete a little icebreaker game.”

“Pointless.”

Yveste crossed her arms, her tone indifferent. She neither agree nor outright refused.

Noticing this, a small smile played at the corners of Shirina’s lips.

“There are two options,” she began, looking between Yveste and Lynn. “Truth or Dare?”

“I’ll take Dare,” Lynn said, jumping in before Shirina could continue.

As expected.

Shirina smirked inwardly, then turned to Yveste. “Since Lynn chose Dare, according to the rules, you’ll have to choose Truth.”

“Alright,” she continued, her gaze turning playful, “what’s on little Yve’s mind right now? You seem to be in a bad mood.”

“Thinking about how to kill you,” Yveste replied flatly, her cold eyes locking on Shirina without hesitation.

For Yveste, the woman before her—responsible for her mother’s death—was a target she intended to deal with one day.

But not now.

Yveste had agreed to attend this masquerade ball for two reasons: first, she had just returned to the capital and didn’t want to appear weak in front of Shirina; second, she had something she needed to discuss with her.

Hearing her sister’s ruthless answer, Shirina sighed inwardly.

Noticing the noble girls nearby growing pale at the sharp exchange, Shirina decided not to pursue the topic any further. Instead, she turned to the young man standing beside Yveste.

“Well then, it’s time for the Dare.”

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled warmly at Lynn.

Despite her serene appearance, Shirina harbored lingering displeasure toward Lynn, who had diminished her status during their first encounter.

But tonight, she had no choice but to approach him.

The mini-game she had proposed was a deliberate move to create opportunities to bridge the gap between them—or better yet, to sow discord between him and Yveste.

“For your Dare,” Shirina continued with a gentle smile, “I want you to passionately praise someone here—be it for their charm, appearance, or figure. The only condition is that you must already know the person… Of course, little Yve is excluded.”

Lynn was about to say how simple the task was, but her final condition left him speechless.

Without Yveste as an option, this challenge had suddenly taken on a whole new level of difficulty.

Whoever said this Dare was easy? It was impossible!

He never expected Shirina to pull a move like this right out of the gate—jumping headfirst into a minefield. This was a trap of traps.

The precondition was practically screaming, “Go ahead, compliment me!”

After all, apart from Yveste and Shirina, Lynn didn’t know anyone else at the banquet.

But if he were to actually praise Shirina in front of Yveste, even with just a single sentence, he could already imagine how terrible the aftermath would be.

In short, this was a death sentence disguised as a game.

Noticing the growing tension, Yveste remained outwardly composed. “Don’t mind me. Just do whatever you want,” she said calmly.

Look at her!

So confident, so composed… not.

For a woman like Yveste, especially a woman like Yveste, her words had to be taken in reverse.

The calmer she appeared, the less she wanted to lose face in front of Shirina.

Taking a deep breath, Lynn steeled himself.

“Let me confirm something first...” He glanced at Shirina. “I can choose anyone here, correct?”

“Of course,” Shirina replied with a nod, her smile growing more pronounced. “But as I mentioned, it has to be someone you know.”

“In that case, I’m ready.”

Lynn cast her a deliberate look.

At the same time, Yveste’s gaze subtly shifted toward him.

Though she seemed composed, she was already on the verge of losing her mind.

If my adorable little dog really betrays me in front of everyone, I’ll be so, so hurt.

And even that damn woman from the future wouldn’t tolerate such behavior.

If Lynn dared to praise Shirina in public, it would, in a twisted way, create a rare alliance between Yveste and the Witch.

Disloyal little dogs must be punished.

With this thought, Yveste silently fixed her eyes on Lynn, her calm exterior masking her inner storm.

“The person I’d like to praise is... myself,” Lynn said slowly.

Shirina blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “That’s cheating.”

“Your Highness Shirina, you never specified that I couldn’t choose myself,” Lynn countered immediately.

Hearing this, Shirina chuckled lightly. “I didn’t, but… fine.”

Watching Lynn dodge the trap with such a cheeky maneuver, the crowd couldn’t help but find it amusing.

Yveste, on the other hand, let out a subtle sigh of relief.

His answer was neutral, neither giving Shirina the satisfaction she sought nor provoking her ire.

However, compared to Lynn’s usual problem-solving flair—the kind that always surprised her—Yveste couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of disappointment at his safe choice.

Still, one couldn’t have it all.

At least he hadn’t humiliated her in front of Shirina and the crowd. For that, he had passed her test.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, Lynn spoke again.

“Wait a second. Before we go, don’t you all want to know why I’m praising myself?”

Shirina stopped in her tracks, a faint unease blooming in her chest.

For some reason, she suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

“As you can see,” Lynn began, his lips curving into a faint smile as he glanced around, “I have a pair of beautiful eyes.”

“Their color is like the shimmering blue of the ocean, and their shape resembles finely cut gemstones. If you look closely, you might even catch reflections of mountains, birds, the sun, and the moon.”

Hearing this, the crowd erupted into laughter, their gazes toward Lynn filled with amusement.

No one had expected him to be so entertaining.

Praising himself, yet managing to turn it into such an elaborate performance?

Only Shirina didn’t laugh. Her expression grew more serious.

With her understanding of this guy, there was no way this would end so simply.

Sure enough—

The next moment, under everyone’s watchful eyes, Lynn suddenly turned toward Yveste.

Lowering his gaze to meet hers, his tone softened.

“But none of that really matters,” he said gently.

“In my eyes, their beauty comes from only one reason.”

“And that reason is you, my dear Princess.”

For a split second, an inexplicable sourness surged in Shirina’s heart.

I knew it!!!

Watching the pair of master and servant once again steal the spotlight, Shirina’s heart churned with unspoken frustration.

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