Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 18: Your Loyal Servant Lynn Reporting, Your Highness!

[Plot deviation of E-ranked character “Nina Bellamy” has increased to 20.00%.]

As he walked across the lawn after leaving the side entrance of the estate, Lynn heard the familiar system notification.

He froze.

The words he’d shared with Nina had been spoken on impulse. He hadn’t expected them to impact the plot deviation at all, let alone to such a dramatic extent.

Curious, Lynn opened his system panel, only to find that his system points had not increased. After thinking about it, it made sense. If character ranks from F to S indicated their importance to the story, increasing plot deviation for higher-ranked characters would naturally be much more difficult.

Nina was E-ranked, one of the lowest levels, so even minor deviations could shift her trajectory. In contrast, it had taken every ounce of effort—and a near-death stunt—to raise Evester’s deviation by a mere 0.01%.

If he could raise Evester’s deviation to 100%, he’d earn 10,000 points. But for E-ranked characters, maxing out deviation to 100% would only yield... 0.1 points?

So, he’d need to max out ten E-ranked characters’ deviations just to earn a single point. No wonder there was no reward this time.

Lynn tried clicking on the wheel to see if he could draw a new ability.

[Spend 10 system points for an ability draw?]

As expected, the first draw had only cost him one point, but now it required ten times that. If it continued increasing this way, would the third draw require 100 points?

The thought made him shudder.

Just then, his gaze fell on the parasol in the distance.

Putting aside his musings, Lynn closed the system screen, schooling his expression as he walked toward it.

Beneath the parasol sat a woman in a black fringed gown, reclining with her legs crossed, sipping tea elegantly. To his surprise, Her Highness was not wearing her mask today, revealing her striking beauty. The elderly maid stood quietly by her side, silent as ever.

It was a peaceful scene, marred only by a patch of bloodstained grass a few meters away. Two prisoners, pierced by countless thorns, stood like grotesque statues in the center of a bloodstained patch, the bloody thorns feeding off their remains, with a scarlet rosebud beginning to bloom at their tips.

Next to these corpses knelt six other prisoners, trembling. Judging by the strange tattoos on their necks, they were likely members of a cult, captured for reasons unknown.

Despite the unsettling sight, Lynn approached calmly, meeting Evester’s cold gaze with unwavering composure. Memories of the humiliation and helplessness he’d endured at the Augusta estate surged up, and he clenched his teeth. ℞𝒶Ν𝔬𝔟Еŝ

He was a man—he needed to fight, to release the anger and bitterness he felt.

With a deep breath, Lynn dropped to one knee and declared, “Your most honorable and magnificent Highness, future Saint Roland VII, your loyal servant and inseparable family ally, Lynn Bartleon, reports for duty!”

---

Evester hadn’t expected Lynn to approach during her interrogation of the remnants of the Creationist Sect.

Seeing his resolute expression, she assumed he was here to request his release, to beg for freedom.

But to her surprise, he knelt and offered his pledge the moment he arrived.

“Your most honorable and magnificent Highness, future Saint Roland VII, your loyal servant and inseparable family ally, Lynn Bartleon, reports for duty!”

His gaze was filled with a fervent sincerity, like a devoted follower encountering a deity, sending shivers down her spine.

Even the elderly maid, usually calm and composed, twitched at the corner of her eyes.

As for Evester herself, she nearly choked on her tea.

Cough, cough…

She set down her porcelain teacup, a strange sense of delight rising within her.

"Future Saint Roland VII"—the title resonated deeply.

Surrounded daily by loyal yet dour subordinates, she found the unexpected flattery refreshing, like a mischievous rogue among loyal ministers.

With an amused glance, she asked, “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

Lynn shook his head earnestly. “I’ve reflected on my narrow-mindedness and foolishness. I’ve decided to stay by your side, Your Highness, and learn from your wisdom.”

He sneaked a quick glance at her, then lowered his head again.

Noticing the gesture, Evester’s good mood evaporated, a frown crossing her face.

She hated when people stared at her like that. Did he think she would allow him to act so boldly just because she’d spared his life?

The atmosphere grew tense.

But before the silence could drag on, Lynn spoke again.

“You are as stunning as always today, Your Highness,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “I hope I may have the honor of witnessing your beauty every day.”

Although she knew he was likely flattering her, Evester felt strangely pleased. Her previously icy expression softened, her mood brightening visibly.

Cough, cough…

Now it was the maid’s turn to clear her throat, casting a side glance at Evester. “Your Highness, the interrogation isn’t over.”

Evester nodded, averting her gaze from Lynn and returning her attention to the prisoners.

Seeing this, Lynn remained kneeling in place, using his peripheral vision to study the terrified cult members.

What exactly was happening here?

Evester’s voice broke through his thoughts, her tone as cold and merciless as ever. “Next. Heads or tails?”

The prisoner on the far left flinched, daring a glance at Evester, only to quickly avert his gaze, trembling all over.

Evester’s frown deepened slightly.

Yes, that was how most people reacted to her—unlike someone else in particular.

The prisoner she’d addressed swallowed nervously, glancing at the two bodies beside him. They had both chosen tails. Statistically, he figured, heads was due for a win.

“H-heads,” he stammered.

Ah, a coin toss game.

Evester didn’t react to the prisoner’s choice. She sipped her tea, while the elderly maid raised her left hand, back facing up, and flicked an ancient coin into the air with her right thumb.

The maid caught the coin, covering it with her hand, then slowly revealed the result.

“Your Highness, it’s tails.”

“Whoosh!”

Before the color could drain from the prisoner’s face, the thorns surged forward, piercing his body with countless holes.

He was left standing, held upright by the thorny vines like the two prisoners before him, his eyes reflecting despair and pain.

The blood-red rose in the center of the thorn patch bloomed a little more.