The Fall 2023 Manga Guide

I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness

What's It About? 

Allen, a powerful sorcerer feared as the “Demon Lord” by all in town, wants nothing more than to enjoy his solitary existence deep in the forest—that is, until the day he discovers a young woman lying unconscious in his neck of the woods and saves her from a band of knights. He soon learns the girl, Charlotte, once betrothed to the prince of the neighboring kingdom, was framed by her fiancé for vicious crimes and forced to flee her home. Moved by her pitiful plight, Allen stakes his own life on a promise: to give Charlotte a crash course in all that is naughty and make her the happiest woman in the world!

I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness manga has a story by Fukada Sametarou and art by Ichiho Katsura. The English translation is by Jan Mitsuko Cash, with lettering by Kevin Luo. Published by Vertical Comics (September 26, 2023).

Is It Worth Reading?

Christopher Farris

Rating:

The title Crash Course in Naughtiness, alongside its opening pages, might seem to have been a bit misleading at first glance, but that is part of the joke. As we roll into the story proper, we quickly get the understanding that our leading sorcerer, Allen, is not so much a true "Demon Lord" so much as he's an amicable if antisocial type cursed with a debilitating case of resting bitch-face. So, of course, the "naughtiness" he's tempting former noble lady Charlotte with includes things like ruining her appetite with sweets or ordering stuff out of catalogs. That's the unique spin that our would-be villainess is being instructed by a bad guy who's not particularly good at being bad.

It's all appreciably cute once it gets going. There's something incredibly refreshing about a story in this sort of light novel framework, wherein our leads were betrayed and persecuted by those close to them yet don't turn to purely jaded self-satisfaction as a recourse. Allen may (unintentionally) put on a villainous face, but he's motivated by not wanting anyone else to feel the sort of sadness and isolation he was saddled with. Charlotte has struggled through her beat-for-beat version of just the depressing parts of the Cinderella story, and Allen's instruction of her is all about helping her learn to manage her feelings and emotions healthily. It loops together effectively as we realize that getting Charlotte to indulge is a byproduct of Allen indulging his whims, and this is just as much a story of him growing to trust and see the good in people more than he previously had.

It's generally heartwarming and overtly cute in so many places, thanks to the sheer dorkiness of our two leads. We know Allen is a nerd from the beginning thanks to the level of magic he practices, and his failures with an actual evil attitude are only as funny as poor, clueless Charlotte falling for them. They are two dopes with no idea of the way they're inching towards romance, and it's adorable. Sometimes, the cutesiness can be dragged out a little longer than is strictly necessary, as in the dozens of pages in the run-up to Allen convincing Charlotte to eat a slice of cake. But then we'll wander into goofier excursions like a stress-relief punching bag exercise or guest appearances by a funny delivery cat girl (where you can tell that translator Jan Mitsuko Cash was having too much fun coming up with tortured cat puns to pepper her speech with). Only a little about the plot seems consequential, but it's still an adorable entry into the increasingly crowded subverted-villainess genre space.

Rebecca Silverman

Rating:

Naughty is as naughty does in this book. A deliberate misdirection, the story is actually about sorcerer Allen teaching Cinderella-figure Charlotte about the joys of eating cake for dinner and staying up all night playing games. These are the sort of transgressions that only adults can get away with when they're living on their own (I, of course, have never had pastry for dinner. Really. I mean it.), but they're also not the first things that come to mind when you mention “adult naughtiness.” Unless, I suppose, you're either Allen or Charlotte, two peas in the same naïve pod. And that's a large part of the charm: Charlotte has been so beholden to the rules laid out for her by people who were determined to make her feel guilty for merely existing that she can't even fathom veering off the straight and narrow. Whether Allen lacks in other areas of adult imagination or is astoundingly bad at phrasing things is up for debate.

Another delightful part of the story is that it works within the now worn-out villainess genre and gently makes fun of it. Charlotte is a virtual paragon at least several steps above most falsely accused young ladies – this poor girl has probably never even breathed wrong. She's just an easy target for the real monsters, and that's both incredibly sad and a bit of a statement on the genre as a whole, which tends to favor more spirited heroine-villainesses. She's closer to Miyo from My Happy Marriage than anyone else. Allen, on the other hand, is more in line with the villainesses of most novels: he's not a bad guy at all, but he's been painted that way by others, and his decision to live alone in the woods in a big house hasn't helped public perception of him. If both he and Charlotte were ladies, you could paint this as a villainess-ends-up-with-the-heroine story, mainly because Allen seems to think he is devious in finding ways to care for Charlotte and help her deal with her emotional needs.

At the end of the day, this volume is about someone doing his best to help someone else. Allen is really invested in Charlotte's mental health and safety, and that's sweet to see. His methods of teaching her to relax are framed in an unorthodox way, making it fun and charming, which makes up for postal worker Miacha's annoying catgirl speech. (If I never see “meow” awkwardly shoved into a word again, it'll be too soon.) This is a good one.