Became the Villainess’s Guardian

This world has a concept called plausibility.

If an admiral claimed to have defeated an enemy fleet of over 100 ships with a mere 13 vessels, anyone in this city would dismiss it as nonsense.

However, if those 13 ships were an aircraft carrier strike group, it becomes plausible.
As any educated modern citizen would know, the Japanese military of the Joseon era did not heavily invest in air power.

Of course, how that solitary king of Joseon could then expel an admiral commanding an aircraft carrier strike group would create another plot hole. But the point is that a reasonable pretext must be provided for the listener to be convinced.

“That house right there has a Demonic Tribe member.”

“So it’s an accursed dwelling……”

And within her organization, Freugne primarily employed this rhetoric of skipping the reasons and simply stating, ‘In any case, the reasons may not be precise, but eleven defeated over a hundred.’

For instance, suppose a canning factory in South Londinium were to catch fire tomorrow.
Since Freugne only knew the outcome without the exact details, she could only choose between saying, “I foresaw that a canning factory will catch fire tomorrow,” or simply, “A canning factory will catch fire tomorrow.”

The former would advertise her ability to glimpse the future, while the latter would imply she was the dark arsonist behind the fire.
And Freugne chose to become a dark arsonist rather than reveal her most closely guarded secret.

As a result, she became a mysterious dark figure to others or, more precisely, rendered Edan even more enigmatic as a dark figure by association in the eyes of individuals like the Earl of Norton or Superintendent Baldor.
However, after years of aligning with both lawful and chaotic factions alongside Ulr, Circe could vaguely discern the truth behind Freugne’s implausible rhetoric.

‘Freugne is indeed glimpsing the future by some means!’

Witnessing Freugne’s recent behavior, such as grasping Edan’s hand before exclaiming, “That lecherous uncle…!” and kicking the blankets aside, it did seem that such formidable power carried a corresponding backlash or side effect. Nevertheless, the capability itself was undeniable.

“Attack from the two o’clock direction immediately upon entry. There’s no need for concern, as this area is deserted.”

“But, but what if someone hears the commotion and comes?”

“I’ve arranged for today’s police patrol routes to avoid this area, and any civilians will be intercepted and deterred by our members.”

Initially skeptical, Circe had grown accustomed to Freugne’s rhetoric and nodded in acceptance.
It was far easier to simply trust her words rather than dwell on the reasons behind them.

And yet, this involved confronting a Demonic Tribe member.
Not some ordinary grunt the members could gang up on and pummel before dragging away, but an apparent high-ranking spy, a true operative.

Noting Circe’s anxious nail-biting, Freugne reassured her:

“Don’t worry too much. Everything will be fine.”

“Okay……”

Still, having the one who could glimpse the future offer such reassurance provided some comfort.

Circe’s academic test scores had been rather poor.
Her latest philosophy, history, and mathematics grades were so dismal that Freugne had felt compelled to disclose them personally.

While a tendency existed for better students to possess greater magical aptitude, the rule did not always hold true.
The most notable exception was Michael, the founder of electromancy, whose highest education was elementary school – an anomaly among anomalies that Circe also exemplified.

“I trust you.”

“I will strive to meet those expectations!”

“Good. That’s the confidence I want to see.”

In Freugne’s view, what Circe lacked was not knowledge but self-assurance.
After a reassuring pat on the back, Circe clenched her fists and rose to her feet.

While Circe herself had doubted her prospects of attending university, she possessed a recommendation letter from her magic instructor at school, just in case she changed her mind.
The contents were a cringeworthy string of praises along the lines of, “Her magical prowess was so formidable that any errors she made negated themselves.” Even coming from a high school teacher – considered an intellectual elite in Londinium – this attested to Circe’s exceptional practical abilities.

Freugne believed in rapidly nurturing her talent.
Even if they survived this crisis, they needed to be prepared for the next.

-Whoosh!

‘Ugh, cough. I thought I was done for.’

‘Remain calm. Our time has come.’

Freugne briefly closed her eyes, recalling the distant future she had repeatedly confirmed.
The vision glimpsed through Hugo – of Londinium engulfed in flames, people fleeing in terror as the Demonic Tribe trailed behind, unleashing magic. A grim future.

Freugne was no vengeful spirit harboring a vendetta against the Demonic Tribe, bent on purging them from this city.
Admittedly, she did harbor some personal grievances, and she agreed they should be expelled from Londinium, but that was the default mindset shared by all citizens.

At the very least, Freugne could be considered a moderate, as she did not advocate outright genocide.

And yet, to protect this city and, above all, the person living within it –
Or rather, the exceptional individual who occupied her heart – at times, extreme measures were necessary for that greater cause.

“Once we capture this Demonic Tribe member, you can take a break from combat operations for a while.”

“And after that?”

“After that… we must prepare for the next crisis.”

Taking positions on either side of the designated house’s entrance, Freugne silently mouthed a countdown.

-Three, two.

“One.”

-Crunch!

With a forceful kick, the door burst open, and the man in the white suit inside turned his head.

Alone, it seemed, as the hat he had always worn was resting on a table instead.
Unlike the stumpy, finger-sized horns of the Demonic Tribe grunts they had captured thus far, a pair of twisting, pitch-black horns protruded from his forehead, each as thick as an adult’s index finger.

Only now did Freugne understand why he had insisted on that tall, flat silk hat instead of a drooping baker’s cap like Hugo’s.

However, there was no time to ponder such trivial details.

-Fwoosh!

“Gahh…!”

From the moment the door opened, a blazing spear conjured by Circe’s gestures flew forth, embedding itself in his chest.
Unless one could constantly glimpse the future, no superhuman could adequately respond to an ambush. It was a time-honored tactic embraced throughout human history, and for good reason.

Unfortunately, Freugne’s personal magical achievements paled in comparison to Circe’s.
It was sheer folly to even attempt a comparison with one so innately gifted that she could teach herself magic.

While Freugne’s skills were among the finest within the school, she was not so petty as to resent Circe’s historical-level talents.
And Freugne too possessed an exceptional talent of her own – the power of authority.

-Click.

The ability to resolve with mere words what would otherwise require strict civilian licensing procedures, let alone for an individual student to acquire despite the bare minimum being a police superintendent father.

Just as the gun Edan had once aimed at her, Freugne mercilessly pulled the trigger.

Gazing out the window at the dimly lit streets, I glanced at the clock.
It was already past 9 PM. While no strict curfew was in place, was this not the natural concern of any parent?

“Freugne is running late……”

The house felt empty without the person who would normally be chattering by my side, holding my hand.

Hadn’t she mentioned studying with friends until late today?
Considering her impending graduation, she was likely being extra diligent. At this point, it seemed she had matured splendidly.

Given the hour, she had likely eaten already.

“I should prepare a snack.”

I flipped through a cookbook, searching for the most popular dessert among children. It had been quite a while since I had browsed one, as Freugne had been preparing meals for us lately.

“…Cucumber ice cream?”

There were even asparagus and oyster flavors listed. How dreadful.
After discarding the overly rich late-night options and excessively laborious recipes, the only feasible dessert with the ingredients on hand was this.

“Still, I should showcase my skills for once.”

If I offered Freugne a spoonful upon her return with words of encouragement, she would surely appreciate it.

Before the war erupted, it seemed wise to create such little memories, lest I regret not doing so later.

‘I wonder if Freugne would dislike me revealing it later.’

Not the dessert – she would undoubtedly claim it was delicious, even if subpar, bless her heart.

Rather, if war did break out and humanity faced potential defeat due to our disadvantages,
I intended to directly join the war effort instead of merely taking refuge in a bunker.