Chapter 97: You’re Underestimating Me, Aren’t You?

Lynn rubbed his slightly groggy head, squinting against the piercing sunlight streaming in through the train window.

Feeling the subtle vibrations of the seat beneath him, a realization dawned.

Raising his head and glancing around, he found himself in a luxurious train compartment.

At this moment, the carriage was empty.

Lynn froze for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, standing up from the seat. He stumbled slightly as he moved toward the door.

The moment he pushed the door open, someone from the adjacent carriage seemed to notice him and hurried over.

“You’re awake, Young Master Lynn?”

The voice of the housekeeper, Kesha, reached him.

“Am I... on the train back to the Imperial Capital?”

Pressing a hand to his temple, Lynn looked at her with a puzzled expression.

Supported by Kesha, he followed her into the second carriage.

There, he saw several familiar faces seated on the chairs—some were staff from the Augusta Estate, while others were Yveste’s subordinates whom he had seen during meals.

He didn’t interact much with these people on a regular basis. Now, after briefly meeting their gazes, he discerned a mix of respect and seriousness in their expressions.

“Young Master Lynn, we’ll be counting on you to handle things for Her Highness moving forward.”

Someone in the crowd raised their voice.

Instantly, every pair of eyes, filled with various emotions—approval, confusion, and skepticism—focused on him.

Counting on me?

Lynn still hadn’t pieced together the current situation.

However, broken fragments of memory from the previous night suddenly surged into his mind, and the events came flooding back.

What is that woman even thinking?

Staring at the train that represented his pathway to freedom, Lynn didn’t feel the excitement he had imagined.

Frowning, he looked at the housekeeper beside him.

“Kesha, could you explain what’s going on right now?”

At his words, the aging housekeeper closed her eyes briefly before motioning for him to sit.

Once they were both seated, Lynn waited for her explanation but instead watched as she handed over a thick stack of papers.

“These are deposit slips from Her Highness’s personal account at the Glostein Central Bank. It’s the private savings she accumulated over the years, left for your use while staying in the Imperial Capital.”

With that, Kesha handed him a thin booklet.

Written on its cover was a signature that was bold and flamboyant, the strokes practically leaping off the page: Yveste Roland Alexini.

Lynn instinctively took the booklet, but for some reason, an image flashed through his mind—her sorrowful yet tender demeanor under the moonlight from the night before.

“This...”

His voice trailed off, an inexplicable heaviness settling in his chest.

Lynn was about to ask a question but was interrupted by Kesha before he could speak.

“These documents include the property deeds for Her Highness’s residences in the Imperial Capital. If the Mosgra Family’s influence causes issues for you upon your return, you can temporarily stay in one of her properties. That way, they won’t openly trouble you,” Kesha explained matter-of-factly.

“This one lists the connections you can rely on when necessary. While there aren’t many, they represent years of painstaking cultivation by Her Highness...”

“And these are...”

“Wait, wait!”

Lynn finally couldn’t take it anymore and cut her off.

Staring at the documents in his hands, he was overwhelmed by a sense of absurdity.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Lynn frowned deeply. “Why does it feel like I’ve just been entrusted with someone’s dying wishes?”

“Also, she has so many subordinates. Why would she hand this stuff to me?”

At that moment, he felt utterly at a loss. The sudden weight of responsibility pressed down on him, leaving him unsure of how to proceed.

Hearing his words, Kesha gave him a glance before responding with a blank expression.

“Young Master Lynn, you’re already aware of the details of Her Highness’s current task, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod.

The night before, Yveste had explained that she was undertaking a temporary mission ordered by Saint Roland VI to deal with an unknown Sealed Artifact. However, she hadn’t disclosed the specifics of the artifact to him at the time.

Kesha suddenly handed him a sheet of paper. “This contains the details of the Sealed Artifact Her Highness is tasked with handling.”

Taking the paper, Lynn scanned it carefully.

But the moment he saw the artifact’s name, a wave of unease surged through him, and his face turned deathly pale.

Artifact Name: Wishing Jar

Item Number: Not Yet Contained

Sequence Level: Unknown

Origin: A mysterious Sealed Artifact passed down through generations of the Creationist Sect, unknown to outsiders.

Effect Description: Grants the wisher any three wishes but fulfills them in the most disastrous manner possible.

Containment Recommendations: Personnel are advised to fully understand its specific characteristics before taking any action.

This was her mission?

Lynn’s hands began to tremble involuntarily as he processed the information.

Kesha, however, seemed oblivious to his reaction and continued in a calm tone.

“As you can see, while the sequence level is unknown, the intelligence provided by His Majesty places it somewhere between second-tier and first-tier, but it will not exceed first-tier.”

“Based on this, Her Highness estimated that her period of unconsciousness after handling the artifact would be roughly four to six months.”

“With the Succession Ceremony at a critical juncture and the Imperial Capital’s autumn hunt approaching, she was unwilling to let these opportunities slip away.”

“Therefore, Her Highness decided to send some of her less combat-oriented subordinates to the Imperial Capital ahead of time to establish a foothold.”

“And since you are the person she trusts the most, she entrusted these tasks—and these people—to you...”

Lynn stared at the aging housekeeper, his thoughts spinning. The absurdity of the situation weighed on him. Yveste’s trust felt less like a privilege and more like a looming sentence.

“What did you just say?”

Lynn snapped his head up, staring at Kesha in disbelief.

“You are the person Her Highness trusts the most,” Kesha stated expressionlessly, as if declaring an indisputable fact. “There’s no need to doubt it. She said so herself last night.”

“...”

Lynn’s grip tightened around the Sealed Artifact report in his hand. Without thinking, he slammed his fist on the table.

Trust me?

What kind of joke is this?

From the very beginning, I’ve done nothing but dream about escaping from that lunatic psycho of a woman!

I’ve plotted, schemed, and lost sleep over it!

And now you pull something like this on me?!

And do you even know what this Sealed Artifact actually is?

Memories of the original novel flooded his mind, and the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place.

Why had the antagonist princess disappeared from the story for almost two hundred chapters after leaving the capital, only to reappear at the climax of the Succession Ceremony when the Second Prince and others were defeated?

The timeline spanned nearly a year!

He now understood why, after leaving the Pantheon last time, the Witch had spoken in such cryptic terms.

Not only had she asked for the exact date of the current timeline, but she’d also urged him to seize her one moment of weakness and return to the Imperial Capital ahead of schedule.

And finally, she’d asked him to pass along a message to Afia and the others.

At the time, Lynn had felt something was off but lacked the critical information to grasp the truth.

After all, as someone who had read the original novel thoroughly, his confidence in this ultimate antagonist’s capabilities far exceeded her own.

He’d never considered the possibility of something going catastrophically wrong.

But upon seeing the name of the Sealed Artifact, everything became crystal clear.

That idiot Saint Roland VI had fed them false information.

Because this “Wishing Jar” wasn’t some second-tier or first-tier Sealed Artifact...

It was Zero Tier!

A genuine Zero Tier Artifact!

Not only that, but the jar was inhabited by a terrifying demon—not at full power, but still an entity so formidable that it was a nightmare to deal with.

In the original story, even the protagonist and his companions were pushed to their limits. They only resolved the crisis by invoking divine intervention; otherwise, nearly half of the Saint Roland Empire would have fallen.

From this alone, it was clear—Yveste’s mission was doomed to fail.

Not only would it claim the lives of all her subordinates, leaving no survivors, but she herself would fall into a prolonged coma.

When she eventually woke, her personality would be drastically altered, and her body partially warped, leading to the infamous arc where she wreaked havoc in the Imperial Capital.

It all culminated in her eventual defeat by the protagonist’s party and her imprisonment in the Deadwater Prison of the Far North.

If the story followed its original trajectory, that was how things were meant to unfold.

A complete and utter tragedy.

Lynn’s expression flickered between anger and unease, his thoughts a chaotic storm.

Kesha, noticing his silence, said nothing further. Instead, she retrieved two more items and placed them in front of him.

“These are from Afia. She asked me to deliver them to you,” Kesha said, setting the items on the table. “Though she refused your proposal, she still accepted your gift. Her Highness has already chastised her for this.”

Lynn looked at the pristine pair of delicate princess shoes on the table, lovingly cared for as if brand new. His expression froze, conflicted emotions flashing across his face.

Then Kesha placed another item before him—a letter.

“This is from Young Master Greya,” she added.

Lynn instinctively took the letter and began reading it carefully.

There was only one sentence written on it:

"Her Highness says that anyone personally involved in this mission will receive a commendation from His Majesty as a reward. It’s an easy way to gain military merit! Haha, just don’t forget about me when you’re in the Imperial Capital. Wait for me, Greya the Great, to return victorious!"

...I’ve never seen a more textbook example of a death flag in my life.

And you’re not even an Extraordinary, so what the hell are you doing tagging along?

Lynn’s first instinct was to scoff, but he realized he didn’t have the energy.

Greya was one of the few friends Lynn had made since arriving in this world, and it pained him to see someone like that dragged into such a dire situation.

After all, aside from him, none of them had the ability to see the future or even a clue about the dangers that lay ahead.

Noticing Lynn’s stunned expression, Kesha finally broke the silence.

“Young Master Lynn, you appear to be unwell.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lynn replied reflexively, shaking his head before looking at the princess shoes on the table.

“My first time receiving a pair of worn shoes from a beautiful girl... I’m a little emotional.”

“...”

Kesha remained silent, not indulging his humor.

“By the way, is there a washroom around here?”

Lynn suddenly stood up, his movements unsteady, as if still under the lingering effects of the sedative—or something else.

After Kesha pointed him in the right direction, he hurried off, disappearing into the restroom as if making an escape.

Once inside, he turned on the faucet, scooping cold water onto his face in an attempt to clear his head.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, the black-haired boy with a damp face took a deep breath.

“I’m happy,” he muttered. “Happy to have escaped from that woman’s grasp.”

A lie.

The moment he finished speaking, the Lie Eater’s innate ability kicked in, detecting his untruth.

A lie?

How is that possible?

Lynn stared at his reflection, noticing how pale he looked.

He couldn’t figure out what was going on between himself and Yveste—or what he truly felt deep down.

His thoughts were a tangled mess.

In his confusion, he resorted to this self-interrogation, hoping to uncover the real answer.

“I...”

He tried to say something but found the words muddled, slurred by the lingering effects of the drug.

What was I going to ask?

He attempted to calm himself, but the answer seemed just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Smack!”

Lynn abruptly slapped himself hard across the face.

Got it.

The thought that had been echoing in his mind moments earlier wasn’t random—it was a sentence.

A trivial remark he’d once shared with Milanie during a casual conversation.

At that time, he had asked Milanie what she thought was the most profound emotion in the world.

Milanie had smiled and answered him: regret.

That’s right.

The most profound emotion in the world wasn’t anger or despair—it was regret.

Time couldn’t turn back. No matter what choices you made in the moment, you could only move forward along the path you chose, without any chance of return.

And the emotions that grew stronger, polished by the relentless flow of time, were those of regret.

Regret for making the wrong decision in the past.

"If I were to simply walk away today... I would regret it in the future."

This was the truth.

The Lie Eater confirmed it.

Why?

Lynn couldn’t understand.

His heart was a storm of conflicting emotions, too tangled to sort out clearly.

Yet time was running short; this wasn’t the moment for deep contemplation.

So, he decided to stop overthinking.

He placed his trust entirely in the Lie Eater.

At the same time, he caught a surge of fierce emotion rising in his chest.

"I’m angry right now."

This, too, was the truth.

Unbidden, his mind replayed the scene at the Pantheon when the Witch had told him to leave Orne City.

And... the silent tears that had slid down Yveste’s cheek last night.

It all clicked into place.

Everyone had been treating him as if he were the weakest link in this situation.

Her Highness? That was understandable.

But the Witch?

She had entirely resigned herself, believing he was powerless, incapable of doing anything to change the outcome. She’d defaulted to preserving his life, urging him to flee back to the Imperial Capital and save what little strength he had.

As for the unimaginable suffering she would endure in the aftermath? That didn’t seem to matter.

Was this the greater good?

Accumulating strength for a brighter future?

Perhaps it was the correct, rational choice.

But it wasn’t a choice that had sought his consent.

Everyone had overlooked one crucial thing.

"Witch, and Her Highness the Princess... aren’t you both underestimating me just a little too much?"

Lynn took a deep breath.

At that moment, he felt as if he had returned to the calm, composed version of himself.

Moreover, with an event of this magnitude—one that could rack up points and alter a critical historical juncture—how could someone like him possibly miss it?

"Lynn Bartleon, you will change everything."

Staring at the black-haired boy in the mirror, Lynn spoke each word with deliberate clarity.

Was this a lie?

A voice seemed to echo from the depths of his subconscious.

"No, this is a promise."

"Because I already vowed to the Witch that I would please her."

"Whether it’s the present her or the future her, it makes no difference."

“Madam Kesha, something terrible has happened!!!”

A subordinate suddenly came rushing in, panicked and out of breath.

“What is it?” Kesha asked calmly, sipping her tea.

“It’s Young Master Lynn... He jumped out of the train window and ran away from the washroom!!!”

The news struck like a bolt of lightning, throwing everyone present into a flurry of chaos and alarm.

Everyone, that is, except for Kesha. She remained seated, perfectly composed.

“I see… Also, inform the conductor. The train may now proceed at full speed.”