Chapter 256 Scheme to Divide -4
Chapter 256 Scheme to Divide -4
Pairan's refusal was immediate and naked.
"Why should I be the one begging you?"
"Because while I'm at it, I'll kill Lowchen too. You're alone. I have a faction. If you really want to stop Lowchen, shouldn't you be on your knees begging me?"
Pairan stared at him, incredulous.
"I'm with Purple. And in Waris, Leticia is a Purple Unique—"
"Oh? Who's that?"
Jiha smiled, and Pairan shut her mouth.
She knew it now. Leticiacia would put Jiha's words ahead of Purple's interests.
"...I can borrow Barjet's strength."
"Ah. She slept with me last night."
"What?!"
The shout burst out of Pairan before she could stop herself. Genuine shock.
Jiha's smile sharpened at the outburst.
"I'm pretty popular."
"...You would betray Lady Asira so easily."
"That's not what you should be shocked about."
Pairan fell silent.
There was nowhere left for her to ask for help in Waris.
She was alone. She would have to face her brother and his Shades by herself.
"......"
And Pairan knew exactly how slim her chances were in that fight.
Jiha watched her in silence, simply smiling. Her face twisted with chagrin. She had no idea what to do.
Pairan despised Jiha because Asira had become one of the women tamed by him.
And yet the only person who could solve this was the very same Jiha. She had to beg him.
"...You'll have to fight my brother anyway."
"I could toss you to him and call a truce."
Jiha spoke the words without meaning a single one. Then he pressed further.
"The reason he came all the way to the barracks to talk to you was to say: don't come at me. Join me while you still can. That was the real conversation, wasn't it?"
"......"
Right on the mark again.
Pairan had a straightforward temperament. She couldn't rest until she said or did what was on her mind.
Which made her easy to read.
"In other words, Lowchen does care about you in his own way. Sibling affection. Almost brings a tear to the eye."
"......"
Pairan hesitated for a long moment. Then she sighed.
Ultimately, she had to admit it. If she wanted to stop Lowchen, she needed Jiha and his faction.
"Fine. Help me."
"Kneel."
Jiha's face hardened. He barked the command.
"Bend more than just your body. Bend your heart too. Then I'll consider it."
"......"
Pairan looked revolted, but she was visibly fighting to hold onto her patience.
Swallowing her resentment, she rose from her spot and prostrated herself, forehead touching the floor. An unmistakable gesture of absolute submission.
"...Help me stop my brother."
"Still not enough."
"...Please help me."
Pairan ground the words out, syllable by syllable, swallowing her humiliation whole.
For a woman incapable of hiding her true feelings, this was pure agony.
Jiha looked down at her beautiful dark-blue hair. Then he rested his foot lightly on her shoulder.
She flinched.
He could feel her trembling with resentment.
"Is this what you Yogwi call submission? Look at that shoulder shaking. You're absolutely dying to kill me, aren't you?"
"......"
"Hurts, doesn't it? I bet you can't stand it. You want to kill me right now, don't you?"
Jiha let out a cold laugh.
A hunting dog that refused to submit could only be mastered with the whip.
Some people handled such creatures with love and friendship, or so he'd heard. But from Jiha's perspective, that was inefficient.
First, they had to learn to fear the whip. Only then would words reach them.
"Speaking of which. What do you think happens if Asira finds out about this little conversation?"
"...What?"
Pairan's head snapped up.
The urgency on her face overrode everything. Submission, hell—she forgot all of it. Jiha played innocent.
"I mean, you knew Kamain was scheming, and you still defected. That's practically the same as helping him, isn't it? You knew Asira was in danger, and you abandoned her anyway. And not just anyone—her own Super Rare. The one she made Super Rare because she recognized your skill despite you being a different species. And that person betrayed her."
"......"
"Asira looks endlessly good-natured, but she's surprisingly strict about hierarchy. She's a knight who sweeps battlefields. She takes the chain of command seriously. She's a generous superior, but she's no soft-hearted fool."
Conflict flickered across Pairan's face.
She understood now. Jiha had her by the throat. And this weakness would follow her for the rest of her life.
"Go ahead. Draw your sword if you want."
"......"
Pairan's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Jiha only smiled.
"Drawing it is fine. But you'd better be ready for what comes next."
Pairan hesitated for a beat, then moved to pull the longsword from her hip. Jiha kicked the sheath away.
A half-second slow to react, Pairan rolled backward and tried again to draw, but Jiha was already charging. Unstoppable as an enraged bull.
He couldn't let her draw.
In pure sword skill alone, Jiha wasn't outmatched. Even with Pairan's legendary combat experience, she wasn't an opponent he couldn't face. But once she activated her Gravity Field, any blade fight would turn against him.
So he wouldn't give her the chance to use it. Overwhelm her before she could.
Jiha was already surging forward, Mana flaring. Pairan had only just begun raising her own Mana and trying to draw. The initiative was his.
Reading his intent, she abandoned the draw and met him with empty hands.
Jiha blocked the sharp Hand Blade aimed at him with his forearm and pressed forward. Pairan had expected him to block and was already preparing to deploy her Gravity Field. Instead, his forearm caught her throat and drove her backward, step after step.
Realizing she was about to hit the wall, Pairan stopped resisting. She let her body go slack and collapsed her stance.
It was a deliberate decision. The more she resisted, the easier Jiha could shove her.
Not bad.
She had considerable depth in close-quarters combat.
Inwardly impressed, Jiha still swept a low kick into her shin. Pairan tried to take the hit and hold her ground despite the unstable footing, but Jiha crushed her down as if pinning her.
Pairan tried to roll her body and slip free, but Jiha read the move. He seized her collar and held fast.
Thud!
The two tangled and crashed to the floor.
Jiha's forearm pressed against her throat. His other hand gripped her head. Pairan, in turn, had her Hand Blade poised against his side.
Mana coiled around both their hands.
"......"
Pairan could plunge her hand into his side and shatter his ribs. But in that same instant, her head would be crushed.
Unique or not, when your vital points were locked down like this, there was no way out.
"Shall we continue?"
"......"
Pairan let out a bitter sigh. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his side.
Jiha, naturally, did not withdraw his.
I thought she was impressive the first time, but she's genuinely outstanding...
That brief exchange had demanded considerable focus from Jiha too.
From the start, Pairan had been kneeling while Jiha sat in a chair, looking down at her.
If she'd lunged at him with her bare hands immediately, things might have been different. The moment she reached for her sword, the initiative was forced into Jiha's hands.
Humanoid combat generally begins from a standing position.
Rising from a seated position versus rising from a prone position—the former obviously had the advantage.
On top of that, Jiha had deliberately baited her with the remark about drawing her sword, making her waste one more motion on the draw.
Under normal circumstances, maybe it wouldn't have worked. But the moment he mentioned Asira, Pairan's psychology destabilized. She'd walked right into every layer of the trap.
"Now then. Time for the victor to enjoy himself."
"......"
Pairan glared up at him, seething.
Her face was the face of someone only now realizing she'd been thoroughly played. Manipulated because she'd been shaken by Asira's name, and subdued because of it.
"You filthy bastard. Using people's hearts."
"And you didn't?"
"What do you—"
"You came here expecting Asira to treat you kindly, didn't you?"
Jiha snorted.
"Everyone uses other people's hearts. Anyone who says they don't is soft in the head. The only difference is how they use them."
"......"
Completely pinned, Pairan stared up at Jiha with apprehensive eyes.
"What... are you going to do?"
She'd tried to draw her sword and been subdued. If he killed her, she had no grounds to protest.
One hand pressed against her throat, holding her in place. With the other, Jiha drew the Grade 2 dagger he always carried.
"This."
The moment she saw the blade, resolution settled over Pairan's face.
Jiha smiled coldly. Deliberately, pointedly, he brought the dagger down and cut her clothing open.
Riiip.
The skintight tights split apart.
The dagger moved slowly, cutting only fabric, never grazing skin. Shame and humiliation flooded Pairan's expression.
"...You intend to disgrace me."
"Would you rather I kill you?"
"Rather than be defiled by the likes of you—"
The reflexive words died in her throat the moment her eyes met Jiha's.
A cold gaze. The gaze of a merchant assessing a product's value.
If she told him to kill her, he really would.
"......"
That instinct sealed her silence.
Seeing the wild filly freeze, Jiha laughed softly.
"There we go. Finally starting to realize who you're dealing with."
He dragged the dagger downward with deliberate slowness.
The blade slipped between the provocative swell of her breasts. Fabric split, revealing a red brassiere beneath.
Ornate underwear with black embroidery.
"Pretty. I like it."
"......"
Jiha taunted her, but Pairan only bit her lip and said nothing.
Her expression finally showed she understood. In this situation, whatever Jiha said, whatever he did, she had to endure.
No choice but to swallow the humiliation.
Pop!
Even the brassiere split open. Her breasts sprang free, shoving the torn fabric aside.
Jiha looked down at the defiantly heaving chest. He pressed the flat of the dagger lightly against one breast.
"What now?"
"......"
"Answer me, Pairan."
He could do anything right now.
Was he asking only to humiliate her further?
Inner conflict churned through Pairan, but Jiha's cold face offered no answers.
The flat of the blade pressed deeper into her tender breast.
Even the flat of the blade, a cold metallic threat against warm flesh, made any woman flinch.
"...Stop."
"You're using casual speech? In your position?"
Jiha rolled the dagger slowly over the mound of her breast. The blade found the nipple hidden beneath what remained of her clothes.
The cold steel pressed against the sensitive nub.
Pairan's mouth fell open.
"Ah..."
A frightened moan, torn out of her involuntarily. Jiha looked down at her with icy calm and brought the cutting edge to her nipple.
Without hesitation.
It would be cut off.
The cold terror against that exquisitely sensitive nub. Pairan spoke reflexively.
"St-stop, please."
"......"
The words had escaped her before she even knew it. Pairan's face said she couldn't quite believe she'd said them.
Jiha spoke evenly.
"What? You started this, and now you want to quit whenever you feel like it? Must be nice, living life on easy mode."
"......"
Tap. Tap.
Jiha flicked the knife's edge against her nipple as he snapped at her.
"You don't know your place, you yapping bitch. Do I look easy to you? You try to kill me first, and now you think tacking on one polite word cleans it all up?"
"That..."
The blood drained from Pairan's face.
Jiha fully intended to humiliate her.
To make sure she never dared challenge him again.