Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 114: You… You’re Alive?!

Ten Minutes Ago—Pantheon

Just as Lynn was about to ask another question, a faint force field began to repel him, pushing him slightly back.

“The shattering of the Chains of Order has triggered certain warning mechanisms within the Pantheon,” the Witch explained calmly. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“But before you go, repeat the task I just gave you.”

Wrapped in a blanket, Lynn drooped his head reluctantly. “When I return to the Imperial Capital, I’m to establish connections with Shirina and the others, use every possible method to gain their trust, and then use the Mark of Corruption to etch an unbreakable mark on them.”

Seeing his dejected demeanor, the Witch felt a subtle impulse rise within her.

He looked like a homeless puppy, sitting listlessly before her.

For a fleeting moment, she wanted to reach out and pat his head.

Though the thought crossed her mind, her expression remained perfectly composed. The only indication was the way her slender fingers clenched ever so slightly.

“You seem rather unwilling,” she said, looking down at him. “If I recall correctly, Shirina was once hailed as the most beautiful woman in the empire.”

“And not just her. Even the Saintess of the Silent Church and the others are rare beauties. You should feel pleased at the prospect of making such women your slaves.”

Her tone was calm, as if she were casually commenting on something utterly insignificant.

This was a dangerous question. The kind that could get a man killed.

Lynn studied the Witch closely—her slightly tilted head, the snowy white hair cascading over her shoulders—and didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“In my heart, there are only three kinds of women in this world.”

“Oh?” she asked, feigning disinterest. “What three kinds?”

“The most beautiful you, my mother, and all the others.”

Lynn’s expression was as solemn as a knight swearing an oath.

Of course, his answers varied depending on the person. If Yveste had asked him the same question, he wouldn’t have dared include “my mother” in his response.

The Witch didn’t show any visible joy at his reply. Instead, her voice remained cold as she asked, “The most beautiful me? Which me are you referring to?”

Was it his imagination?

Lynn couldn’t shake the feeling that the Witch was acting strange today. She still carried her usual aloof, world-weary air, but she seemed to be talking more than usual.

And much of her words seemed deliberately aimed at distancing herself from her past.

But Lynn knew how to handle this.

A naive, anime-style protagonist might respond, “Both of you are my wings,” but that was a fool’s answer.

Reason? Simple.

Her Highness isn’t here, so why wouldn’t you just heap praise on the Witch?

Without hesitation, Lynn gave her a thumbs-up. “Of course, it’s you, Witch!”

“Silver-tongued.”

The Witch snorted softly at his response, but her mood seemed to lighten.

“Come here.”

She raised her pale wrist, gesturing for him to approach.

“I’ll seal your memories now. To minimize the sense of disorientation, I’ll adjust them slightly. But don’t worry—it won’t affect your personality, and in two months, the sealed memories will return to you.” ṘΆＮ𝘖βË𐌔

Lynn obediently walked over.

As the Witch’s cool, delicate hand gently pressed against his forehead, he felt an inexplicable sense of peace washing over him.

But the next moment, a realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

His trust in the Witch had been so absolute that he had overlooked something critical.

The system and his past life!

Moreover, the Witch likely didn’t know that the hypnosis from back then had been fake.

Lynn instinctively tried to pull away from her hand, but then he heard a sudden, familiar chime.

[System Alert]

Detected external intrusion on host’s memory. Initializing countermeasures...

[Countermeasures complete!]

An invisible force rippled through him, shielding the memories he didn’t want the Witch to access.

Lynn stared at her, trying to detect any change in her expression.

And then, for a fleeting moment, he noticed a subtle furrow in her brow.

Did she notice the system’s interference?

His heart raced with tension.

But the Witch’s voice broke the silence. “Stop staring at me.”

Phew.

Relief washed over him. He obediently averted his gaze.

Still, a question lingered in his mind:

The system… its authority surpasses the Witch’s?

Given her near godlike status in this world, that shouldn’t have been possible.

And yet, she hadn’t detected the system at all.

Before he could ponder further, a wave of drowsiness overtook him.

Darkness enveloped him as his consciousness slipped away.

In the midst of that void, he felt a faint twinge of pain in his mind, as though something had been erased—and something else added.

My name is Lynn. I’m 17 years old, the last heir of the Bartleon family.

After being exiled from the Imperial Capital to Orne City, I was consumed with hatred, determined to seek revenge on those who had slandered me.

Stripped of my Divine Factor, I became weak and powerless.

No one would help me. Everyone was eager to trample on the once-glorious Bartleon family.

So, to exact my revenge and regain my strength, I turned to forbidden and unspeakable methods.

I prayed to an unknown being, begging for power.

Even at the cost of my soul.

And then… I succeeded.

In the Pantheon

In that sacred and ominous space, I had seen the most beautiful woman across two lifetimes.

The Witch of the End—Yveste.

I knelt before her and said, “Oh Great One, please take my soul, make me your believer, and grant me the power to exact my revenge!”

She had looked down at me with an almost amused indifference.

“Believer? I have no use for something like that. But... I do need a little dog to keep me entertained.”

And so, I became the Witch’s dog.

Under her guidance, my strength grew rapidly, and through the trials she set for me, I built connections with people and factions like the Augusta Estate and the Tyrius family.

Eventually, I even successfully resolved the riot caused by the Level 0 Sealed Artifact, the Wishing Jar, earning her unprecedented approval.

But during that disaster, due to being simultaneously possessed by two powerful demons, my memories became scrambled. It felt as though I’d forgotten something.

The Witch assured me it was nothing important, so I didn’t press the matter further.

Today, she issued two new trials.

The first: use the Mark of Corruption to exact revenge on the male and female protagonists of the original storyline.

The second: return to the present timeline and stop her ten-thousand-years-younger self from embarking on a path of vengeance against the entire empire, thereby altering the tragic future.

Ten thousand years ago, the Witch was still the Third Princess of the Saint Roland Empire.

I couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of person was she back then?

Back in the Real World

The sharp pain of falling from a great height jolted me awake.

Clutching my sore backside, I stood up, the chill biting into my skin.

At this moment, I had only a single blanket draped over me, making me look like some sort of crazed streaker.

Damn it, why didn’t I ask the Witch for some clothes before I left?

I tightened the blanket around me, glancing furtively at my surroundings.

But luck, it seemed, was on my side.

Just as I was contemplating my next steps, I heard a voice behind me.

“L-Lord Lynn?!”

The voice was trembling, a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

“Is that really you, Lord Lynn?! You’re alive! You’re not dead!”

I turned to see a familiar figure—one of the estate guards from Augusta Manor. The same one I’d once made cry during training.

He was accompanied by three burly men who looked like mercenaries. One held a lantern-like Sealed Artifact, likely being used to search for traces of life.

It seemed Augusta Manor hadn’t given up on finding me after the Wishing Jar incident.

Relief washed over me. At least I had a way back to the city.

Smiling, I began to speak. “Yes, it’s—”

But before I could finish, the unexpected happened.

“Shk!”

The sickening sound of flesh being pierced filled the air.

My eyes widened as I saw the estate guard in front of me stiffen.

Behind him, one of the burly mercenaries had silently drawn a blade and plunged it into his back.

The guard looked down at the blade protruding from his chest, his eyes full of confusion. Blood dripped from his lips as he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

The betrayal stunned me.

Augusta Manor had spared no expense, deploying every available guard and hiring mercenaries to search for me.

But now, just as they’d found me, their efforts had been undone in an instant.

The leader of the mercenaries—broad-shouldered, radiating the aura of a Second-Rank Extraordinary—stepped forward, wiping the blood off his blade.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice calm yet chilling. “Finally found you, Lynn Bartleon.”

The other two mercenaries, both First-Rank Extraordinaries, flanked him. Their faith and supernatural abilities were still unclear, but their killing intent was unmistakable.

It became evident that these men had been planted by some unseen hand to ensure I was truly dead after the incident.

And since I wasn’t, they were here to finish the job.

“Who sent you?” I asked, my voice steady despite the tension in the air.

At that moment, I gave off the appearance of a mere ordinary person.

The leader smirked, pressing his blade lightly against my throat.

“The Mosgra family... and the Divine Order Church,” he sneered. “They asked me to pass along their regards.”