How to Survive as a Trash Extra Villain

Chapter 89

Adela began descending the platform.

With me behind her, the gazes were inevitable.

She shot filthy looks at everyone, then turned sharply toward a tent.

A terrace-like “do not disturb” zone.

“Hmph!”

Striding forward, she snatched two wine bottles from a party table and entered the tent.

‘Ugh, Drunk Princess again?’

As I followed, she was uncorking a bottle.

“Princess.”

“Eek!”

Eek?

I stared at her blankly.

Embarrassed by her startled reaction, Adela glared at me and turned away sharply.

‘What’s with her?’

This fickle princess made my job hell…

Wait, was she ill?

Her cheeks looked flushed.

“Princess.”

“What is it?”

“Are you unwell?”

“What are you saying? I’m fine. You’re the one who might’ve gotten sloppy injuries in the tournament. Don’t go out and embarrass me—rest here.”

“….”

She resumed struggling with the wine bottle’s cork, her efforts clumsy.

‘Tch.’

Honestly, it was surprising she even asked if I was hurt, even in her snappy way.

‘But.’

What puzzled, baffled, and utterly confounded me was something else.

I’d debated asking her since the tournament ended and the banquet grew lively.

“…Princess, I honestly don’t get it.”

The system had said this tournament would mark a turning point for Adela.

At my blunt question, Adela let go of the wine bottle and turned to me.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re too different from the dungeon tournament.”

“Me? Different?”

When I perished alongside Sir Dominic at the dungeon tournament, Adela had called me out despite my death-induced trauma, keeping me by her side until the banquet’s end.

She’d been triumphant, as if proclaiming, “Look at me, whom you all scorned, now so great.”

Her smile never faded.

She’d reveled in the attention.

“I clearly fulfilled my duties as the Black Knight. I survived countless assassination attempts, contributed to hunting the Golden Bull, and took down numerous prey and participants.”

That was true, yet this time, Adela was ferocious, like she was chewing out vermin throughout the banquet.

Someone who’d basked in gazes was now irritated, storming off to the tent.

She told me to stick close, then to back off, and even jumped when I spoke in the tent.

“Your face screams irritation, and you’re all over the place—it’s not like you.”

I was annoyed too.

The system said a turning point was at stake, so I went through hell, but this reaction made it all feel pointless.

If she was dissatisfied, just say so!

Her silence, despite her usual brazenness, was infuriating.

I was curious.

What emotional shift had she undergone during this tournament?

“Above all, on the morning of the tournament, you suddenly said you’d abandon it—something you’d never do—then brushed it off as a joke. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Please, just tell me.

So I can decide.

“What’s got you so upset that you’re taking it out on me? Hate the tournament? Or did I do something wrong?”

Whether to kill you or let you live.

“Well, of course, you probably hate me altogether.”

“No.”

Her voice cut in sharply, with a clear sense of urgency.

She looked at me with a complicated expression.

“My Black Knight, I’ve never… hated you.”

“….”

“Your performance today was satisfactory. No issues at all.”

“….”

“It’s just… I’m confused, so leave.”

“….”

I could press further.

I had plenty to say.

But…

‘Damn it.’

I’d never seen Adela so drained.

She turned, reaching for the wine bottle again.

‘That’s the one thing I won’t allow.’

“No alcohol.”

As I reached for the bottle, my hand brushed hers.

“…!”

Adela, startled, dropped the bottle.

She stumbled back and collapsed onto a chair.

The bottle shattered on the floor, filling the tent with the rich scent of alcohol and grapes.

I looked at her, flustered.

What did I do to warrant this reaction?

But was it just Adela?

She was staring up at me with trembling eyes.

“Princess…?”

Adela today was truly strange.

“…Martin.”

“Speak.”

“Well, it’s…”

“…?”

“The meaning of what you said to Kazaks at the tournament—no, never mind.”

She shot up and ordered.

Her face, lit by the tent’s light, was redder than ever, almost scarlet.

“I’m leaving. Prepare the carriage.”

Some of the presences around the tent vanished.

Hoofbeats approached, as if waiting.

Adela moved to exit the tent but paused.

“…Follow me. I’ll take you back.”

She ordered me and left.

Her golden eyes urged me from the radiant golden carriage.

I boarded, and as soon as I did, Adela urgently commanded the carriage to depart.

The orchestra’s sound faded.

Leaving the banquet’s revelry, the carriage traveled a quiet forest path, descending underground.

***

“Because I, too, was a sinner. Thus, I entered the imperial court in the dishonorable Black Knight’s armor. Princess Adela gave me, fallen to the depths of ruin, a chance. She is my salvation, my guide, my oxygen, letting me breathe. Please forgive me for fighting for her.”

The words that fueled Elisha’s fantasies also shook Adela’s heart.

‘I’m going insane.’

She couldn’t breathe.

Her body burned.

The man sitting across from her consumed her thoughts to the point of madness…

For the first time, Adela felt ‘awkwardness.’

‘Awkward.’

She resented the imperial carriage.

Why was it so steady, so silent?

‘I’ve never felt this for anyone…’

Could he really see me that way?

“Princess Adela. She is my salvation, my guide, my oxygen, letting me breathe.”

Her breath caught again.

A first.

She was at a loss.

Her legs, twisted tightly under her golden dress—were they visible…?

Only those who hated or sought to use her had surrounded her.

Fed up, she decided to take control.

She seized Martin’s weakness, forced a leash on him, and pushed him into danger.

Even when he completed missions, there were no rewards—just more tasks when needed.

She’d treated him with the worst possible taste.

If she were Martin, she’d resent her, hate her, be filled with thoughts of killing her.

‘If Martin truly sees me that way…’

What should I do?

‘Nothing changes.

I’ll keep him as the Black Knight…’

As the Black Knight, to what end?

Previously, dangerous missions would’ve flooded her mind, but now they sank into the abyss, erased.

‘As the Black Knight…’

She was annoyed.

After the tournament, sitting on the throne with Martin was pleasant.

But everyone was staring, weren’t they?

At her? Fine.

She’d revel in their vile gazes.

But she couldn’t stand them looking at Martin.

The Emperor looked pleased, Kazaks coveted him, and the masses judged and defined him as they pleased.

‘Jealous of Martin? …No.

Absolutely not. …I was annoyed. …Why?

Why was I annoyed?’

Now she could answer.

That others showed ‘interest’ in Martin.

She hated it.

It angered her.

‘Because Martin is mine.’

After her nursemaid, after Old Knight Harris, he was the man who declared before all the Empire’s nobles that he’d give everything for her.

‘Martin.’

That’s why she hated it.

She wanted him by her side, yet disliked that he was the Black Knight.

The title was dishonorable.

‘Someday, if I can…’

If she gained a stable foundation, she’d remove his Black Knight helmet and show him to the world.

This man is wholly mine.

‘No.

That’s not it.’

Perhaps locking him away forever would be better.

She feared someone recognizing his worth, stealing him.

She wanted to keep him in a room only she knew, seeing him daily.

His sharp gaze on her alone.

His rough voice for her ears only.

His muscular, sleek body…

‘…!’

Adela slapped her forehead.

‘You’re mad, Princess Adela.’

She tried to clear her mind, but Martin dominated her thoughts.

Finally, she admitted it.

‘I’m fond of him.

I’m seeing Martin as a man.’

The budding feelings of Adela, a girl never loved.

Unfamiliar with giving or receiving love, her possessiveness might be too intense, too clumsy.

Even though Martin’s words were likely to maintain his Black Knight persona, her overwhelming emotions couldn’t be suppressed.

‘No, not yet.

I’ll learn more about this man, Martin…’

The carriage stopped at the underground waterway’s dispersal point.

As it halted, Martin opened the door and stepped out.

“Princess, good work.”

“….”

I couldn’t respond.

I wanted to stay with him longer.

But Martin, thinking I wouldn’t acknowledge him, turned sharply.

“Wait.”

I knew I couldn’t let him go like this.

“….”

“….”

In silence, we gazed at each other.

I needed to say goodbye, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

Martin, waiting, furrowed his brow.

My heart sank.

“…Princess, if you’ve nothing to say…”

“Martin.”

I called him.

I didn’t know what to say, so I spoke what came to mind.

“D-Don’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles.”

“…?”

He looked at me like I was insane.

I hurriedly changed the subject.

“…You did well today. I express my sincere thanks for fulfilling the Black Knight’s duties.”

“….”

Words alone weren’t enough.

I quickly pulled out a gold coin pouch I carried and handed it to him.

“Your reward. A substantial sum.”

“….”

Martin, staring, cautiously took the pouch.

Like a wary hound accepting kindness from a cruel master, his demeanor made Adela’s heart pound again.

“I hope to see you again soon.”

“….”

Speaking with a trembling heart, Martin replied coldly.

“Is that all?”

“…Yes.”

He turned away ruthlessly.

Gazing after him, Adela resolved.

‘Right.’

Even if their start was tangled, it was firmly so.

She’d forced him through threats, and he’d braved dangers to protect those dear to him.

‘Slowly.

Slowly.’

She’d approach him as a person.

Make it possible to see him that way.

‘A way…’

Pondering, Adela thought of a perfect method.

***

“Wow, it’s been so long, everyone!”

“Tell me about it!”

Academy cadets in uniforms greeted each other warmly.

‘Ugh, back here again.’

The Café Exploration Club, the Vistavern Marquis terror, the Longevity Festival’s Drunk Princess, the shooting club, the Eudialyte Desert ruins, meeting the Star Child, preventing the Imperium Land terror, experiencing Martin’s past, and the hunting tournament.

The impossibly long month-long break had finally ended.

“Gilbert!”

“Bord!”

Gilbert and Bord high-fived and hugged tightly.

Nearby, Elisha and Mary asked Lina about her break.

‘Their faces—especially Gilbert’s—I have to see again.’

Honestly, I no longer held strong feelings toward Elisha, Bord, Mary, or Lina.

But Gilbert… I couldn’t stand him.

Above all, something was off today.

An unexpected figure was causing a stir.

Wild Instinct (Lv 3) whimpers to escape. It’s ominous. We shouldn’t stay here.