“Why didn’t you try to seduce me like this before?”
“Huk… What? Me?”
“This feels incredibly good.”
Damian lightly licked my lips.
As his thick tongue brushed against my already swollen lips, a short gasp escaped me. Noticing him leaning in again to reclaim my mouth, I hurriedly tried to pull away, but at that moment, I bumped into something and stumbled. It was the same thing that had been poking my backside earlier.
Stealing a glance downward, I noticed a distinct bulge along Damian’s thigh.
...Why is it that big?
Noticing my horrified expression, Damian followed my gaze down to his lower body. Still looking somewhat dazed, he muttered under his breath.
“It would be… impossible for you.”
“…….”
Hey, I don’t know what you’re imagining, but I’m not doing that!
My face flushed a deep crimson. Shuddering with a mix of shock and embarrassment, I turned my back on him and bolted toward the kitchen.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind like a lightning bolt.
I whirled around and shouted, “Wait a minute! Last time you said I ‘couldn't handle it,’ so why is it ‘impossible’ this time?!”
“…….”
Damian said nothing. His red eyes simply followed me in silence.
That gaze sent a chill down my spine, and I scurried into the kitchen to hide.
“Crazy, this is seriously crazy…”
I grabbed whatever was in reach, ladles, pots, anything, trying desperately to keep my grip on reality. I think living with these monsters is finally making me lose my mind.
At least the silver lining is that he only asks for kisses. He’s not demanding my body like Geoffrey or anything.
...He won't ask for that in the future, right?
“No, he shouldn't. Not if he has a conscience.”
I thought back to the size I felt against my hip.
Even though it was through his trousers, I saw it with my own eyes. I finally understood why Damian always said, “You can't do it,” or “You’re too weak.”
It was the size of my forearm!
If he actually put that in, it wouldn't just be a medical emergency, it would be attempted murder!
I buried my face in my hands, accidentally banging my forehead against the ladle I was holding.
“Please, let him have at least a shred of a conscience, please…”
Why is every single one of them after my body?! Seriously, get a conscience, you guys!
***
04. The Beginning of the Original Story
Theord set out on his second journey with Amelia.
Officially, this was their first. Their previous mission investigating the border line had been an unofficial task, unrecorded in any archives.
The reason they were moving again remained the same. the hottest topic within the Empire, the ‘Unidentified Corpse.’
A body had been discovered near the border.
To the naked eye, it appeared to be just another unfortunate victim. However, a closer look at the surroundings told a different story.
Paths that were unnecessarily well-maintained, footprints that suggested frequent travel, and traces of a human touch that hadn't faded despite the heavy traffic. It was far too orderly to be natural and too deliberate to be a coincidence.
Adventurers and mercenaries were swarming near the border under the pretext of a subjugation, creating a loud commotion. Using that noise and chaos as a smokescreen, Theord and Amelia moved quietly.
The expedition had begun, but they remained out of sight.
While many prayed for the success of their journey, their true destination was written nowhere.
Because they were heading beyond the border.
Crossing the Monster Forest was no easy feat.
With every step, an eerie presence crawled up their spines. With every breath, the demonic energy of the monsters seeped into their bodies, as if the forest itself were trying to reject the intruders.
And that wasn't all.
The monsters that leaked outside the border were manageable for the Imperial Knights, but the monsters inside were on a completely different level.
They were not prey, they were the masters of this land.
As they encountered these creatures up close, the two realized the truth. the monsters pushed outside were merely the weakest of the pack. What the Empire had been "subjugating" all this time was nothing more than the dregs.
Even after successfully infiltrating, they had to move stealthily to avoid the monsters lunging from the shadows. Yet, they couldn't avoid them forever, moments of direct confrontation were inevitable.
Theord, hailed as the strongest in the Empire, suffered deep wounds in battle. Amelia, possessing holy power rivaling the first Saintess, was also growing exhausted.
Simply channeling her power drained her physical strength, and her fingertips had turned a deathly, bloodless white.
After an unknown amount of time, their grueling journey finally neared its end.
They soon discovered an old cabin. Beside it lay a small, humble graveyard. Though they were nameless graves, the two sensed that those buried there were likely human.
Theord stopped before the graves and offered a brief silent prayer. Meanwhile, Amelia turned her head at the sound of the cabin door creaking open. She let out a soft gasp and called out to him.
“Sir Knight…”
“…….”
Theord didn't answer. His gaze was already fixed on the interior of the cabin.
The weathered door creaked again, revealing the room inside.
The interior was devastating.
Old utensils, worn furniture, cracked plates, and eroded household tools. Yet, amidst the scent of mold and the dust of ages, everything was strangely organized.
The wear on the floor where someone had walked, the smoothed edges of furniture from frequent touch, the repetitive marks of daily life. It was as if someone had lived here day by day.
In a way, it was a mundane sight. But because it was so mundane, the mystery only deepened.
...Would a monster ever need a space like this?
There were stories of monsters that enjoyed fine dining. But even so, why go to such lengths to mimic a human lifestyle? The cooking utensils, the arrangement of the plates, the flow of daily movement…
It was too meticulous to be mere imitation.
Furthermore, the patterns engraved on the plates were familiar.
It was a style that had been popular in the Empire two hundred years ago, a design that had long since vanished from history.
“…….”
“…….”
A brief silence fell between them. In that stillness, both had reached the same conclusion.
A mysterious cabin in the heart of the Monster Forest.
The strangely vivid traces of human life left everywhere.
The scattered pieces of the puzzle clicked together, converging into a single, chilling realization.
...Deep within the Monster Forest, someone was breeding humans.
“…Ah, thank you, Sir Knight.”
Amelia staggered slightly, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the destiny unfolding before her. Fortunately, Theord immediately caught her arm to steady her. Amelia gave him a brief nod of thanks, whispering to herself.
‘I always wondered why I was born with such immense holy power… was it given to me to prepare for something like this?’
Whether it was standing here or witnessing this sight, was it all a divine arrangement?
If it was her destiny, she had to accept it, but Amelia couldn't help but feel a flicker of resentment toward the gods for thrusting this upon her.
The two hurried out of the forest with heavy hearts. Though they had survived on nothing but dried fruit and poor-quality jerky, their pace didn't falter. If anything, the urgency of their report drove them faster.
Finally, upon reaching the edge of the border, they were able to catch their breath.
They settled in a small clearing and lit a campfire for a brief rest. As the sparks flickered against the night air, Amelia sat down at the base of a tree, her strength spent.
The spot she sat in was unusually comfortable. Theord had cleared away the stray branches beforehand. Amelia glanced at him, touched by the subtle gesture.
A blunt, silent man.
There were many rumors surrounding him. the Cold-Blooded Knight, the Watchdog of the Empire… Hearing such titles, one would expect a wooden doll devoid of human emotion, moving only on command.
Yet, facing such quiet consideration made her think that perhaps, deep down, he was a kind person. It was the same earlier, hadn't he bowed his head in silence before those nameless graves?
Amelia studied him briefly.
His face looked as though God had sculpted it with the utmost care, paired with a muscular build and a stoic demeanor that hid a faint warmth.
Based on those traits alone, he should have been incredibly popular, but the man had one fatal flaw.
...He talks way too little.
It had reached the point where, during their journey, Amelia finally couldn't take it anymore and spoke up first.
“Sir Knight, if your throat is hurting, I can provide some treatment.”
It was her way of asking if he was always this taciturn, but Theord still didn't respond. It was unclear if he hadn't heard her or was simply ignoring her, though, knowing his personality after traveling together, it was likely neither.
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