Chapter 292 Independence -21
Chapter 292 Independence -21
"Ahh......."
The moment Gashiel's eyes fluttered open, Jiha's fangs drove into her pale nape.
"Haa, haah......."
Still surfacing from unconsciousness, Gashiel jolted in shock and gasped for air.
Jiha drank in the scent of her soft skin as he drew sweet blood in long draughts.
"Heep, haaahk....... Ahhng......."
The beautiful angel sobbed and tried to push him away. This wasn't a cute protest—it was a struggle backed by Mana.
Thwack!
The sound was small, but a bare-handed strike like that would have ruptured a lung. Jiha ignored the blow and kept his lips sealed to Gashiel's throat.
Gulp. Gulp.
As Jiha's Adam's apple bobbed, Gashiel's face flushed. Unable to process what was happening, she struck him on reflex. When shoving him away failed, she tried to launch herself upward.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Jiha clamped both arms around her back, seizing the base joints of her wings, and wrapped his legs around her thighs. A full-body restraint. Gashiel, who had been beating her wings to take flight, flailed in alarm. With the roots of her wings pinned, she couldn't move.
"S-stop......."
Even for a Unique, experience with this kind of bare-knuckle brawl was rare. No—precisely because she was a Unique, she'd never been in a close-quarters fight where fists were actually thrown. Her best effort was a Mana-infused thrash. Jiha countered by generating his own Mana, shrugged off the blows, and pulled her in tighter.
In this position, standing strikes were useless. Getting into a grapple first gave Jiha a huge edge—he could simply use his weight to pin her.
"Ah, ahhng......."
A honeyed note crept into Gashiel's resisting voice. Alarmed by her own reaction, she struggled harder, but Jiha harshly seized the base joints of her wings.
"Ah, agh!"
Gashiel let out a sharp cry and stopped resisting. The spot where wing met flesh must have been sensitive.
Regardless, Jiha kept drinking. Aside from the sweetness, he felt his Mana returning with every pull.
"Heuhk, huuuhng......."
After Jiha had drunk for several dozen seconds, Gashiel's body slowed, then the strength gradually drained out of her. At first she'd been panicked and resistant, but soon the rising heat of pleasure swallowed her whole.
'Like a spider that's bound a butterfly.......'
The thought drifted through Jiha's mind as he drained blood freely. The poor butterfly caught in the web was losing strength bit by bit, helplessly quivering.
Once he was sure his prey had gone completely limp, Jiha slowly ran his palm from Gashiel's back down to her waist, then to the cleft of her rear.
"Ha, haaahk......."
Gashiel twisted her body, not knowing what to do with herself. Not that she could escape a man's hands and fangs. Her white liturgical robe was so thin that the brush of a palm was no different from touching bare skin.
Jiha traced her figure. Sleek and provocative. Long, elegant limbs paired with gracefully flowing feminine curves. The body of a well-proportioned, voluptuous model.
When his hand found the curve of her hip from above, Gashiel shuddered and resisted.
"Huuuhng....... D-don't touch me."
With his hands he savored her body, with his ears he enjoyed her moans, and with his mouth he drew sweet blood. Blood always tasted sweet once Mana began absorbing, but Gashiel's blood clung to his tongue with an unusual thickness. If most women's blood was a sweet chocolate drink, hers was as thick as honey.
By now, the drinking should have been over.
Just as the conversion into Mana was complete and he was about to remove his lips, the taste of her blood somehow grew even sweeter. A flavor he had never experienced before. Curious, Jiha sucked a little more—definitely sweeter.
"Ha, haak. Haht......."
Gashiel's voice now carried a thread of distress. This reaction was new: instead of growing feverish, her breathing turned ragged. Jiha pulled his mouth away. Any more and at the very least she'd pass out. In the worst case, she'd die.
"Hah, haa. Aaah......."
Pale-faced, Gashiel trembled, unable to stand on her own. Jiha finally lifted his head and looked her straight in the eyes. Even with her eyes closed, he'd been certain she was a beauty, and though he had glimpsed her from a distance before, seeing her up close confirmed it—a beauty touched with a sense of the sacred. Was this what an angel sent by a god looked like? The woman, bearing a grace both elegant and holy, was steeped in pleasure and struggled to glare at him through hazy eyes.
"A-away with you, barbarian."
"If I let go now, you'll collapse......."
Jiha broke off, startled by a rush of blood downward. He was suddenly, inexplicably hard. The violent surge pooling below made his head spin for an instant.
'......This is strange.'
This wasn't a sign of health. It was as though he'd taken a potency drug—his erection strained against his pants as if it meant to tear through them. The sharp drain of blood downward left his head hollow, his vision swimming.
"Wh-what......."
Gashiel also flinched and shivered when she noticed the bulge in Jiha's trousers as he held her. She tried to pull back, but Jiha tightened his grip.
"L-let go of me! You insolent barbarian!"
"Saved you and you still run your mouth."
Gashiel glared and tried to summon Mana, only to shudder, a tremor running from her shoulders to her thighs. She trembled and voiced a fragile, uncertain complaint.
"Heu, heuhk. Wh-what on earth did you do......."
"I should be asking what you did. This is your fault."
Jiha answered smoothly, but inwardly he was thrown off. Normally, the partner would be aroused and unable to use Mana. But this time, Jiha himself had gone into heat right along with her.
'Is it a Unique thing? Or something specific to the Celestial Tribe? Her blood was excessively sweet, too.'
Whatever the reason, he couldn't just stand here.
"Before we leave, let's wrap things up first."
"Wh-what exactly......."
Jiha took Gashiel's hand and walked ahead. She tried to snatch her hand free, then bit her lower lip. Her body wouldn't cooperate, her Mana wouldn't stir—she'd realized resistance was futile. And on top of that, she barely understood the situation.
As they climbed the stairs, Jiha asked, "Where's your bedroom?"
"Why should a human male Common like you need to know such a—"
"Want me to tear everything off and fuck you right here? Your first night gets settled like a dog in a dark cellar. Permanently memorable, I promise."
"......."
"Then talk."
Gashiel, who'd frozen, yanked her hand free. "......I can get there on my own. So I don't require an escort."
"Wow."
The admiration slipped out before Jiha could stop it. That she would spin it as him "escorting" her—the celestial Gashiel—was staggering. What sort of pride was this, exactly?
"Oh, sure. After you, then."
Jiha released her and stepped back. Gashiel led the way on trembling legs, climbing. Watching her try to hide that she'd gone into heat and still act arrogant despite the circumstances was both absurd and a little intriguing.
Jiha's gaze fixed on the white wings swaying ahead of him, and his hand rose.
Smack.
"Wh-what do you think you're doing!"
Gashiel, who'd been climbing the stairs with slow steps, whirled around in shock at the slap on her rear. She nearly threw a punch but forced her hand to open—she'd apparently realized she couldn't use Mana right now. Trying to stir her Mana only made her soak deeper inside.
"You're slow. Move faster."
"......Where exactly do you think you're touching? Not even death will gain you forgiveness."
Gashiel seared him with a furious look, but Jiha couldn't even muster a laugh.
"Keep moving like that and you won't earn any forgiveness from me tonight, either."
"......."
Gashiel shot him a look of pure wrath, but Jiha just raised his hand. Realizing he was about to slap her again, Gashiel spun around quickly and batted him with her wings.
Smack!!
"Ack!!"
"Don't flap those in front of me."
"Tw-twice now you've laid hands on my body......."
Gashiel turned back to face Jiha with humiliation and fury. He met it with utter calm.
"What kind of manners are those? Think of the person behind you. When you flap your wings, I get feathers in my face."
"Do you have the right to even mention manners! This mockery, this rudeness—I will never forget—"
"Keep talking and I really will do you here."
"......."
Jiha thrust his hips forward slightly, and the prominent bulge advanced toward her. Gashiel, mid-outburst, gasped and quickly turned back around. He might actually pounce. She was powerless now; she had no choice but to save her revenge for later.
'She sees me as a piece of shit.'
Jiha read her thoughts as clearly as an open book and gave a wry smile. He had little intel on Gashiel, but the moment they'd met, her arrogant nature was obvious.
"......."
Maybe he should just crush her. An impulse surged up—to truly ravage her in this dark cellar. Rip her clothes apart, pin her down, and make her whine. That might teach her to see her own reflection.
"Huuuh......."
The urge came from the blood that still showed no sign of draining back upward. Jiha exhaled and forced down the desire. Work wasn't finished yet. Pleasure could come after.
His eyes caught the sensual, rounded silhouette revealed through the clinging white cloth, and his hand rose without thinking.
Smaack!!
"Wh-what! Why—why do you keep being so rude!"
Gashiel, who had been laboring up the stairs, erupted when her rear was struck yet again. Jiha chuckled.
"Just felt like hitting you."
"Wh-what an utterly vulgar barbarian....... This matter will not pass."
"If you can manage it."
Smaack!!
"......Nngh."
Taking the fourth slap to her rear, Gashiel let out a frustrated groan and started walking again, this time ignoring him. Arguing with Jiha was utterly pointless, so she had to endure.
They passed the first floor and climbed to the second.
Smack!
"S-stop hitting me!"
Gashiel's protests were now half anger, half pleading.
"You fell quiet, so I got bored. You're not trying hard enough to keep your companion entertained."
"Where does someone like you exist?! However lowly humans may be, there are limits!"
No man had ever dared lay a hand on her body so freely—a celestial, a Unique. In fact, regardless of gender, she had never even heard of such a person.
"Congratulations on advertising how sheltered you are. Consider this your education."
"......."
Gashiel pressed her lips tightly shut. Jiha lowered his hand.
"Your bedroom's on the third floor, right? Hole up there quietly. If you run, I'll kill you."
Gashiel was barely able to control her body as it was—fleeing wasn't an option. Even if she tried, without Mana she'd be caught instantly. Besides, Jiha had already acquired the floor plans and knew exactly where her bedroom was.
"......You knew all along and pretended otherwise!"
From Gashiel's perspective, she'd been completely toyed with.
"You were swaying your hips left and right. Thought I'd enjoy the view a little."
"......."
Gashiel's face cycled from red to blue—a vortex of emotions was clearly churning inside her.
"Be good and stay put. I'll be nice to you."
Having delivered the one-sided instruction, Jiha tore a curtain from a window and wound it around himself. The arrangement resembled a makeshift cloak. With his lower half so prominently tented, appearing before anyone else like that would undermine his authority, so this couldn't be helped.
Leaving Gashiel standing there dazed, Jiha headed toward the party hall.
The party hall.
Sure enough, Lowchen was gone. Pairan and Barjet, who wore exhausted expressions, hesitated when they saw Jiha return.
"......Big brother got away."
"The head count dropped by thirteen."
Jiha glanced at the survivors. Barjet looked appalled.
"......Wait, you actually kept count of all of them?"
"Counting a bunch of bean sprouts isn't hard."
Lowchen had killed people to summon shades, then used them as a shield to escape. Once Lowchen committed to fleeing like that, chasing him was a tall order even for two Uniques.
When Jiha scanned the survivors, every one of them bowed their heads unprompted. None dared meet his eyes. High society or not, they'd decided to submit to Jiha's power and follow orders.
"Good."
As Jiha delivered his assessment, he saw three fire arrows shoot skyward beyond the window. Three arrows—the signal from Asira and Yura.
"Done."
A success signal. The most important city in Warsland had fallen into his hands. Soon, everyone would find out firsthand what it meant for the world to change overnight.