Taming The Villainesses novel Chapter 409

Balan de Sabrenac.

A genius of dark magic. When it came to the study of things sinister, cursed, and ominous, no one in Arc could rival Professor Balan.

But that reputation was the result of her tragic fate.

She had spent a lifetime tormented by nightmares, shackled by transcendental magical parasites. Her ascent to professorship at Arc was nothing more than the outcome of her desperate struggle to break free.

In the end, she had managed to accept herself—at least to some extent. ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) And it had seemed like she’d finally found peace of mind...

But she had still once fallen to madness and committed atrocities against the Drayco family. She remained a person of interest. A risk.

Yet I hadn’t paid her much attention.

That was because there was something I trusted about her—not her talent, necessarily.

In truth, it was her incompetence.

Yeah. To be blunt, Balan was... kind of useless.

She was scatterbrained, clumsy, incapable of following through on even simple tasks. Outside of her field of expertise, she was the kind of person who couldn’t even tie her shoelaces properly.

But it was that very incompetence I trusted.

—Honestly, I can’t trust Professor Balan.

Mirna would often say that with a sharpened glare.

But I did trust her—in the sense that I believed she was incapable of causing any real trouble.

And yet.

There’s no such thing as absolute.

“Professor Balan...!”

Marmar was so flustered she looked like she was about to foam at the mouth. Her tail swished back and forth so wildly, it was starting to make me dizzy.

Looks like I’ll have to use it here—

Fairy Technique:

—Nymph Tail Grab!

Snap.

I reached out and caught Marmar’s diamond-shaped tail, swinging like a broken metronome.

Just like that, the panic drained from her shoulders. She finally took a breath and said:

“Ack...! I told you not to grab that! You’ll rip it out!”

“But nothing calms you down like this.”

I’d read somewhere that men, when trying to calm themselves down, instinctively reach for the thing that sticks out in front of them.

A man’s thing was like a forward-growing tail. So I figured maybe a rear-growing tail would also work for calming. It did.

The now-calm Marmar spoke:

“Professor Balan... she attacked the Saint and got captured!”

“HIEEK...!”

I felt the world spin around me.

How could anyone stay calm after hearing that?

While I was still panicking, Marmar grabbed my hand.

“Come with me, quick!”

“Right!”

As I ran, holding Marmar’s hand, thoughts raced through my head.

The Saint was the religious leader of the Church. A figure of reverence and faith.

I didn’t know why Balan would lash out at her—but this wasn’t something we could just ignore.

Apparently, Balan was already imprisoned beneath the Gracia Basilica.

Mirna commented:

“This isn’t good. The Gracia underground cells were once used for heresy inquisitions. No one’s ever come out of there unscathed. Balan might have already spilled everything...”

I imagined Balan tied to a chair in the basement, doused with cold water.

Pitiful and worrying—but also tense.

Balan knew a lot of my secrets. If she leaked even one of them, the Gracia Church might use it against me.

So I had no choice but to rush to the Basilica, even though it was late evening. But the gates were already shut tight.

Two paladins crossed their halberds to block me.

—Visitation hours are over.

—Please leave.

Was it too dark for them to recognize me?

With no choice, I pulled off my hood and showed my identity.

“I’m Teo Gospel from Angmar. I have urgent business with the Saint. Please let me through.”

The guards exchanged glances, silently asking, Is this for real?

Then one of them ran off.

About five minutes later—

Clank.

A knight of the Basilica unbarred the gates and bowed slightly.

“You have permission, Sir Teo. Also, I watched your match in the tournament. You were amazing. Could I... have your autograph?”

I raised a finger and summoned a small flame, tracing letters on the front of his armor.

T

E

O

As the glowing signature cooled, the knight lit up like a giddy child.

“Hehe! I’ll personally escort you inside.”

I followed him into the Basilica. Roman and Gracia—both religious headquarters in a single day.

There’s probably no one else in the world who could pull that off.

After a while, we finally arrived at the door of the office where the Saint awaited us.

Knock knock.

The knight didn’t say a word—just knocked twice. It felt like part of some formal ritual.

Then, a soft voice came from within.

—Please come in.

***

Saint Frigga Nightfall.

I’d heard she was once a student at Arc herself. Exceptionally talented.

And eventually, despite her young age, she was exalted as a Saint.

Traditionally, Gracia’s Saints were older women.

The youngest until now had been barely over forty.

So for someone in her late twenties or early thirties to hold the title was unprecedented.

Which also meant she was exceptional.

And she was impressive—powerful, even.