Chapter 562
Chapter 562
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 562
Chapter Title: Trouble (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
1.
There's a famous saying that anyone has heard at least once in their life.
You see as much as you know.
Knowledge is like the pixels of life in the first place—the denser they become, the sharper the world's resolution gets, as a matter of course.
And this truth of a proverb applies equally to the realm of emotions.
In short, it means that even similar events are perceived differently depending on how colorful one's emotional palette is.
Setting aside good or bad, Lurye had always been incredibly straightforward and simple by nature.
With extremely limited human relationships and long years spent in solitude, one could say her emotional hues were rather monotonous.
On top of that, her master Sharlit Nukelrabi had instilled in her a sense of chosen superiority, filling Lurye with an "I'm the best" mindset. She would show her displeasure immediately if something bothered her, smile when good things happened, and rage when angered.
In other words, she had never hidden a bad mood for days like this, hoping he'd notice on his own. Nor had she ever groaned under complex, ever-shifting unpleasant feelings that were hard to put into words.
She also would never have grown even angrier at his attitude of trying to gloss over his mistake with a half-hearted apology rather than the mistake itself.
"You did the same last time, and now again—treating me like some disposable plaything."
Lurye stomped back to the Akula alone, grumbling after leaving the Trial Room.
To explain why she was this furious, one must rewind time a little.
Exactly one week prior.
Up until the moment she issued her splendid declaration of war to Shin Si-woo's dark foxes, Lurye had been in an excellent mood.
It was a flawless proclamation, even upon reflection.
Afterward, she spent days overflowing with happiness.
Of course, immersing herself sincerely in the trials was enjoyable, but even better was the fact that she could fool around with Siwoo afterward—without any need to play push-and-pull games or watch for cues. Completely and legally, no less.
Sometimes it was intense. Sometimes it was sticky and sensual. And sometimes it was so sickeningly sweet that her tongue went numb.
Having discovered the world's most pleasurable pastime, any semblance of restraint had long since vanished.
After three straight days of trials and intercourse without a wink of sleep, Lurye finally collapsed in a heap, nosebleed and all.
But it wasn't anything serious.
For an ordinary human, perhaps. But Lurye was a witch. The durability and recovery of a spiritual body far surpassed that of any human.
A single day of rest would replenish everything.
The turning point where Lurye began harboring resentment toward Siwoo was that very day of rest.
Up until then, whenever she threw herself into the trials, Siwoo had held her every single day. But now, claiming he had his own trials to do, he hadn't properly cared for her.
Of course, as a fellow possessor of a spiritual body, he knew her condition wasn't dire. But that was that, and this was this.
"And now that you've become a duke, you shirk your duty to attend your queen for your own training?"
That marked Lurye's first stack of pouts.
That day, she lay in bed all day resting, eagerly anticipating when Siwoo might finally slip under the covers with her.
Though she had collapsed right after their lovemaking when she got up, so mana depletion wasn't the issue—what kind of lovers' intimacy was solely for recharging mana?
Naturally, she assumed he'd embrace her like before.
But he never visited the bedroom, utterly fixated on his own trials.
Pout stack two.
'Well, that can happen.'
Lurye tried to be understanding.
She had monopolized the Dream Cradle for the past three days, after all. Even with his exceptional stamina, holding relations for 10 or 12 hours a day meant he needed rest too. She consoled herself with that thought.
Come to think of it, had he ever initiated intimacy first?
Whenever such doubts arose, she pushed them away with the same rationale.
It left a slight unease, though.
'Ugh...'
But the longer she lay there alone, the more wild thoughts rampaged through her mind.
'Come to think of it, it's not like we're playing push-and-pull, but he won't hold me unless it's after trials.'
'Why only after trials?'
'Is he using intimacy with me as some kind of carrot?'
'So he can go meet those dark foxes once I finish my trials?'
When her thoughts reached that point, Lurye felt a surge of irritation that even surprised her.
His behavior, treating their relations as mere bait, infuriated her even more.
'Hoo... calm, calm...'
Even so, Lurye tightly suppressed her emotions.
It might just be speculation, after all. She decided to confirm one last time.
The incident that truly maxed out her pout stack, causing her to shun the trials altogether, was when Siwoo didn't proposition her even after she recovered and rose from bed.
His attitude—clearly implying they'd only be intimate after she finished her trials—cemented her hypothesis.
Shin Siwoo was using sex as bait to prod Lurye into completing her trials, all so he could rush back to those vixens at the first opportunity.
Even if it turned out to be a misunderstanding like last time, the fact that his actions could be interpreted that way made him culpable.
At that juncture, rather than exploding outright, Lurye opted to broadcast her displeasure through sulky displays, sprawling out dramatically.
Full "I don't care, I'm not doing it" mode—she wouldn't even glance at the trials.
'My merciful self must understand.'
In truth, this was already an immense act of leniency and her final chance for him.
If her behavior shifted this drastically, surely Siwoo would reflect on his words and actions.
She could forgive him with an honest apology and plea for understanding.
It irked her that he yearned for other lovers even with her right there, but she could empathize if she put herself in his shoes.
By now, she'd endured plenty.
Endured enough to feel a swell of pride in her own mental growth.
"But... not even knowing what he did wrong and just blurting out an apology first!"
And above all else, Siwoo's attempt to brush it off so carelessly had ignited her fury.
"You idiot! Useless fool! Just watch—I won't do a single trial from now on! Not a one! No more trials ever!"
Lurye's rage-filled roar echoed down the quiet corridor at that moment.
Suddenly, the lamps lining the hall flared red and began spinning.
Red lights meant one of two things:
Combat drills. Or actual danger detected.
The sonar chief's voice rang out through the corridor speakers.
-Captain, please report to the control room. Provisional submarine alert.
And today was no scheduled drill.
Lurye bolted toward the control room.
2.
Immediately after receiving provocation from the Deep Sea Witch.
They desperately wanted to punish the insolent Deep Sea Witch right then and there, but the three opted for just one day of rest.
It was nearly two months of scouring the vast ocean for Siwoo without proper sleep.
Submerging, casting detection spells—all manner of hardships had pushed their fatigue to the limit.
Haste was fine, but overexertion only hampered efficiency.
It wasn't their preferred approach, but Siwoo's safety was secured for now.
With the urgency and anxiety lifted, they could finally catch their breath, if only a little.
The guest room courtesy of the Oakland branch chief was a suite in a five-star hotel overlooking Auckland's famed Harbour Bridge—New Zealand's largest city's pride.
With two attached bathrooms and three bedrooms, Amelia and Sharon had each retreated to their own rooms to savor the sweet repose of late evening.
"Hmmm..."
Meanwhile, Eloa fidgeted restlessly before an old radio-cassette deck.
Inside it was the Deep Sea Witch's recording tape.
She stared at the deck as if it were her lifelong arch-nemesis.
Her furtive glances around the room only made her look all the more suspicious.
Eloa had brought it to her room under the pretext of analyzing the recording more meticulously.
But she knew full well it was just an excuse—for others and for herself.
Eloa took a deep breath, turned the volume down to the barest whisper, and pressed play.
-Hng! Sniff...! Hic...!
The heartrending moans spilled out immediately.
-Heok! Heok!
And Siwoo's ragged breaths, faint but discernible with focus.
-Splash! Splash!
The lewd sounds of sweat-slicked flesh slapping furiously during intense copulation filled Eloa's ears.
Eloa rose from her seat and circled awkwardly near the table holding the deck.
Dry swallows kept forcing their way down her throat.
In truth, she had tormented herself alone many times before by peeking on Siwoo's intimacies.
The guardian contract had forced her to witness his fierce lovemaking with Periwinkle. She'd soaked her underwear spying on him and Sharon through a keyhole. She'd even masturbated to the sounds of their sex in the next room.
Eloa remembered the inexplicable thrill and depravity she'd felt then.
But after becoming proper lovers, she had deliberately avoided such scenarios.
Voyeurism, of all things.
Deriving sexual excitement from watching her beloved disciple and lover, Shin Siwoo. For the upright Eloa, it was utterly unforgivable.
Yet unlike back then, when she'd only known sensuality superficially, Siwoo had fully bloomed her erotic potential.
And with months of enforced abstinence due to worldly troubles separating them, her body was ravenous.
Women, as a rule, found auditory stimuli more arousing than visual ones.
Eloa was no exception, and her personal history had unwillingly etched voyeuristic thrills into her memory. Today's recording was incomparably provocative.
Siwoo was safe now, and she was only listening quietly without his knowledge. Surely this much was fine?
Her iron will, unyielding under normal circumstances, wavered like a fragile willow leaf today.
"......"
Eloa bumped the table as if by accident.
Without retreating, she sidled up close to the table's rounded corner.
Lifting her skirt just a bit, eyes closed, she began slowly grinding her crotch against it.
"Uht...!"
After just one or two motions, a crisp pleasure washed over her—like scratching an itch that had plagued her for years.
The psychological barriers and guilt melted away cleanly.
"Haa..."
Her beautiful eyelashes fluttered like falling cherry blossoms, a thick sigh escaping her lips.
Just as she began swaying her hips in time with the lewd sounds from the tape—
"Lady Tiphereth!"
Sharon burst through the door.
So deeply immersed was she that she hadn't sensed a thing.
Eloa summoned superhuman reflexes to straighten her skirt, hit stop, and slide onto the sofa.
"Wh-wh-what's wrong?"
But the terror of her secret moment nearly being exposed left her face ashen, her posture awkward, her voice trembling—all too obvious.
Sharon stared at her in bewilderment before suddenly remembering why she'd rushed in, blurting out—
"Th-the Progenitor Witch...!"
While they'd hurried to Auckland upon the urgent report, leaving her alone atop the search vessel, Progenitor Witch Clech Asmode had vanished without a trace.