Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 80: Report to Her Highness, Mission Exceeded!

The moment Mozel saw the scene outside the window, it felt as if his very soul had been drained dry. His spirit, once brimming with confidence, was utterly shattered.

At the same time, as Lynn uttered his second sentence, a flicker of realization flashed through Mozel’s previously foggy mind.

Yes, the Samuel Festival wasn’t in seven days. So why was I so convinced…?

He turned his hollow gaze toward the architect of this disaster.

Noticing Mozel’s expression, Lynn smiled faintly. “You’re a pig.”

“Yes, I am—wait, no!” Mozel snapped back to awareness, shaking his head violently.

Mental control? Hypnosis?

No, if it were techniques like those, the sealing artifacts he carried to ward off soul attacks would have been activated.

Meanwhile, the crowd of believers and citizens below, seemingly recovering from their initial shock, began to stir. Their angry eyes fixed on Mozel as fists were raised, curses flying from their mouths.

Oddly, despite being only a few floors up, Mozel couldn’t hear a single sound from outside.

It was as if the world around him had been muted.

“What have you done?” he asked blankly.

Lynn reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm-sized magical stone engraved with a shimmering magical array.

“Sound isolation magic,” he explained, tapping a specific node on the magical stone.

The next moment, the invisible barrier within the room dissolved. A flood of furious shouting and roaring surged in through the open window, like a tidal wave crashing into Mozel’s ears.

Mozel’s face turned even paler.

“And… amplification magic,” Lynn added, tapping another node on the array.

Instantly, his voice was magnified several times over, echoing from the clock tower and reverberating across the square below.

The magical device had been custom-made for him by Lady Milanie. Its principle was straightforward, with built-in cloaking measures. Without detection-specific sealing artifacts, it was practically invisible to the naked eye.

Mozel stared at Lynn in disbelief, a sense of absurdity welling up within him. “My subordinates and I have been guarding this place since yesterday. There’s no way you could’ve set all this up without us noticing!”

“You’re so naive,” Lynn sighed. “Of course, it wasn’t yesterday. It was at the very beginning.”

“The beginning?” Mozel clenched his fists instinctively.

“Yes, at the start of it all,” Lynn said, stepping forward to pat Mozel on the shoulder. “Long before you ever suspected.”

“On the night I decided to ally with Duke Tyrius, I’d already begun setting everything in motion.”

“Impossible!” Mozel gritted his teeth, utterly refusing to believe him. “Do you think you have the power to predict the future?”

In a way, knowing the original story, I kind of do.

Lynn thought wryly but maintained a calm facade.

“Let me teach you something,” Lynn said.

“The first step in crafting a perfect plan is to be crystal clear about your goal.” Deactivating the amplification magic, he tucked the stone back into his pocket.

“You think my purpose was to curry favor with the Duke by robbing the Church of its funds, don’t you?”

“Wasn’t it?” Mozel asked with a bitter smile.

“Wroooong!” Lynn drawled lazily.

“Mozel, you misunderstood me completely. I’ve never cared for the measly coins you hoard. Making money is far too easy for me.”

“My goal, from the very beginning, has only been one thing.”

“To eradicate you and the Divine Order Church you represent.”

Exactly.

Lynn’s objective had never been financial gain—or rather, if it was, it was merely a side benefit.

His primary mission had always been to complete the trial assigned to him by the Witch of the End.

Hearing this, Mozel was thrown into unprecedented confusion.

He couldn’t fathom what grudge Lynn held against him to warrant such absolute destruction.

Even vengeance for a murdered father wouldn’t warrant this level of animosity.

Could it really all stem from that minor slight at the banquet, where he had offended the Third Princess?

A bolt of realization struck Mozel like thunder.

Just for that?!

Mozel felt a wave of absurdity—he wanted to laugh at the situation, but no sound came.

He felt like a clown.

Seeing Mozel’s apparent mental chaos, Lynn continued calmly:

“When your goal is as clear as mine, everything begins to make sense.”

“To destroy you and the Church you represent, I first needed to shatter the blind faith of the people.”

“And to do that, I had to ignite their anger and break their worldview, making them feel utterly betrayed.”

“To achieve this, I had to expose the vile thoughts you’ve kept hidden deep inside, for all to see.”

“From the moment the banquet ended, every step—including coercing you into this negotiation—was part of the plan.”

Lynn’s tone was serene, but for Mozel, every word felt like a nail sealing his coffin.

The absurdity grew unbearable.

The negotiation had been initiated by his side; even the location, the Samuel Clock Tower, was his decision.

Was this boy trying to claim he had foreseen the choice of location? That was tantamount to calling Mozel a fool!

Noticing Mozel’s confused and angry glare, Lynn shook his head slightly.

“It doesn’t matter where you chose for the negotiation.”

“You’re a cautious man, and you came here intending to kill me. Naturally, you would pick a location under your control.”

“With the intelligence network of Duke Tyrius, I had already identified all your hidden properties in Orne City. I sent people ahead of time to set up the magical arrays you just experienced.”

“Even if today’s negotiation were in one of your private residences in the city, the result would’ve been the same.”

“But perhaps it’s fate,” Lynn added, smiling faintly. “This place, the burial ground of the first bishop—a hero—now becomes the tomb of you, the final bishop. A poetic ending, wouldn’t you say?”

To Lynn, the fallout of this incident was clear. The Divine Order Church’s reputation in Orne City would be irreparably damaged.

They might even abandon this city entirely, leaving behind a polluted source of faith.

“...”

Mozel could no longer muster a response. He was drowning in despair.

...No. There was still one path left!

In the throes of desperation, a thought flashed through his mind.

Mozel’s rationality had long since been consumed by panic. His bloodshot eyes fixed on Lynn with murderous resolve.

If he could kill the mastermind behind all this and silence the rabble outside, then no one would know what had transpired tonight!

As a Fourth-Rank Extraordinary armed with powerful sealing artifacts, Mozel believed it was entirely within his ability to achieve this.

A faint purple glow of Divine Factor began to radiate from Mozel’s body. The intense gravity he generated warped the air, causing the floor to sink slightly. The windows shattered, unable to withstand the pressure.

In a backwater city like Orne, his Fourth-Rank strength was unmatched.

That devilish woman, Yveste, was away on a mission, leaving Lynn vulnerable.

As long as no Fifth-Rank Legendary appeared, he still had a chance—

“You must be thinking,” Lynn said abruptly, snapping his fingers, “that if I don’t have a Fifth-Rank protector, you still have a shot at victory?”

“Well, guess what? I do.”

At that moment, the burly man who had been kneeling under Mozel’s gravity stood up and removed his cap.

Mozel froze. He couldn’t detect any threat from this stranger’s aura. But then the man spoke:

“Oi, kid, what’s with the snapping? You think I’m your summoned beast or something?”

The voice sent a chill down Mozel’s spine. It was unmistakable.

It took only a moment for Mozel to realize that the burly figure before him was a disguise.

Duke Tyrius himself had come!

Cold sweat drenched Mozel’s back.

“My apologies, Duke, but I’ll leave the rest to you,” Lynn said, stepping back with a grin and gesturing for the Duke to take the lead.

Though Tyrius had been overpowered by Yveste at the banquet, it didn’t mean he was weak. Quite the opposite—anyone capable of standing against her, even briefly, had immense strength.

Duke Tyrius shook his head as he looked at the utterly defeated Mozel before him. "The outcome is clear. Surrender quietly and save yourself the trouble."

"Mozel Brandy, for desecrating the faith of the Divine Order Church, I, as the Governor of the Southern Province, hereby arrest you on charges of heresy. You may—"

“Why waste words on this scum, Duke?” Lynn suddenly interrupted with a smirk. “Now that we have a valid excuse to confiscate his assets, shouldn’t you get to it?”

“As for this guy… just string him up on a lamppost or something.”

It would serve nicely as a "welcome gift" for the Second Prince upon his arrival in Orne City.

That very night, explosive news spread like wildfire throughout Orne City—the downfall of Mozel Brandy, the current bishop of the Divine Order Church.

But that wasn’t all. A certain insider rumor quickly circulated among the other churches:

“Never offend the Third Princess, even in passing. She has a mad dog by her side who will bite anyone on sight!”

Mozel’s fate was the prime example, punished so severely for just a single insult to Yveste.

The Next Day, Noon

At the Augusta Family estate, in the middle of a lush green lawn.

"Are you sure Her Highness will be returning today?" Lynn asked Duke Tyrius, gazing up at the clear blue sky.

“She should be... Hey, aren’t you getting a bit too casual with me lately? Not even a ‘sir’ anymore?” Tyrius said, slightly annoyed.

But as he glanced at Lynn, seated comfortably atop a massive wooden crate brimming with gold coins, Tyrius couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation.

The crate contained the spoils of the previous night—90,000 coins from the other churches combined, and 110,000 from the Divine Order Church. A total of 200,000 gold coins, an astronomical sum.

For years, Tyrius had eyed this "mountain of treasure," but with the churches tightly united, he had been unable to find an opening to act.

Now, thanks to Lynn’s flawless setup, he not only had a justification to strike at the Divine Order Church but also left their reputation in shambles.

The scandal had shattered the public’s faith in the Church and severely undermined the Empire’s credibility. After all, corrupt officials and nobles had long been exploiting the people alongside the clergy.

After handling Mozel, Tyrius eagerly led his men to confiscate the Church’s assets. While he refrained from touching their sacred artifacts or relics, he seized every last coin.

The gold coins were now worth four times the 50,000 Tyrius had initially needed for military funds.

At Lynn’s request, however, Tyrius hadn’t immediately pocketed the gold. Instead, he cooperated with this theatrical stunt, awaiting the Third Princess’s return.

“You really enjoy being the center of attention, don’t you?” Tyrius asked, watching Lynn bask in the awe and admiration of onlookers.

Lynn shrugged. “What’s the point of living if you can’t flaunt a little?”

“By the way, Duke, what did you and Her Highness discuss after the banquet? And where has she been these past few days?”

Tyrius’s expression turned serious. “That’s classified.”

“Fine, don’t tell me then... Oh? Looks like she’s back.”

Lynn’s gaze shifted upward to a shadow circling high in the sky.

A massive black dragon, its wingspan spanning dozens of meters, descended rapidly, trailing gusts of wind and turbulence as if a meteor were crashing to the ground.

Standing atop the dragon’s head was a striking woman in a regal red dress, exuding an aura of authority.

Behind her, perched on the dragon’s back, were familiar figures—Morris, Afia, Rhine, and about a dozen others—all looking travel-worn.

Lynn’s attention skipped over the others, locking eyes with Yveste’s piercing crimson gaze in midair.

Facing her cool and aloof expression, Lynn didn’t hesitate. He hopped down from the crate and, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, flung open its lid.

“Report to Your Highness—I have exceeded the mission’s requirements!”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!