The Vengeance of Betrayal Cannot Be Forgiven Even in Death
Ferdinand sat upon the emperor’s throne, gazing at the exquisite Irene standing before him. This twenty-eight-year-old beauty possessed hair that cascaded like molten gold to her waist—still dazzlingly radiant—while her figure had matured into an incomparable vision of voluptuous perfection. Nine years earlier she had carried his child, and eight years ago she had given birth to their daughter Seria, the current imperial princess of the Habsburg Empire. Yet her body remained untouched, her breasts even fuller and more voluptuous, her carnal allure intensified until she appeared more exquisitely beautiful than ever.
Beyond her golden locks, Irene’s beauty defied words. Her sapphire-blue eyes, sharp aristocratic nose, lush crimson lips, flawless ivory skin, and long, slender limbs all conformed to the ideals of feminine perfection. Her breasts and hips were generously rounded, yet every other curve was sculpted with taut muscle and flawless lines. Now a mature beauty, her face blended innocent purity, delicate cuteness, and unmistakable sensuality in perfect harmony.
Her attire, however, was shockingly provocative. The bodice barely contained her cleavage, leaving shoulders and navel exposed, while the skirt was an obscenely short, white mini-dress slit high up her thighs. A woman of such ample beauty and curves should have looked indecent in such garments, yet the sight only intensified the carnal heat that seemed to radiate from her.
Ferdinand himself had been the one to dress her in such attire. He had spent sleepless nights devouring her body, and only through sheer will had he managed to maintain his composure before her. Yet the one thing he had lost was the pure Irene of old. The innocent smile she once directed at him was gone forever. Still, simply possessing her filled him with satisfaction.
When Irene had first been brought to him, brainwashing had been applied, but it had not been total. Her resistance had been limited to refusing his orders and avoiding harm. Completely breaking a mind as steadfast as hers required far more. Even though her powers were sealed and her body weakened, her spirit was unbreakable.
He had shattered her spirit by forcing her to endure countless acts of violation until she finally broke. Three months later he had placed her in the imperial palace, crowned her empress, and watched her bear his daughter. Now, with his brainwashing complete, Irene knelt before him with flawless obedience.
“Hmm… Irene.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Irene answered with perfect deference.
Her mind fully molded to his desires, she had become the ultimate toy—never tiring of his pleasures. Though the world saw her in elegant gowns, she actually wore nothing more than the barest scrap of cloth over her most intimate parts—or nothing at all. Using her own illusion magic, she appeared fully clothed, deceiving countless eyes. The illusions were so flawless that even dragons could not tell they were mere figments.
To Ferdinand, however, they were always real. He could feast his eyes on the naked Irene no one else was permitted to see, and the knowledge that he alone possessed such a privilege tasted like victory.
Each day he reveled in her flesh, taking immense pleasure in breaking the continent’s greatest beauty. As emperor he wielded absolute power and conquered the greatest empire on the continent. Holding Irene in his grasp, he felt he had everything.
No matter how strong she grew, her shattered mind would never recover. The brainwashing was absolute, and her spirit had already been crushed. She no longer possessed the will to resist.
“Lift your skirt yourself.”
“Yes.”
Irene obeyed without a trace of shame, raising the hem of her skirt. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with genuine joy at the act—joy that was only an illusion implanted by brainwashing. She wore no panties, as she had not done for so long. Her most private places were fully exposed before him.
“Oh~ Even after all this time, she remains magnificent.”
Ferdinand sighed in admiration, his gaze devouring her exposed body with raw hunger. He had not yet realized that the punishment he was about to unleash would be far worse than mere death. He had no idea he was about to create the worst demon in history—and that the once-defeated Archdemon Laylana would soon become another such monster.
The following day, through reports from the dragons, Ferdinand received shocking news: the Demon King’s arrival and the collapse of the Holy Kingdom of Astraea.
***
The next night, in the very same Colosseum that had once stood in the Holy Kingdom of Astraea—now the Dark Empire—torches and magic lamps illuminated the ancient arena. Though it was deep in the night, the structure glowed with countless enchanted devices.
The Colosseum had long served multiple purposes: humans versus monsters, humans versus humans, or condemned prisoners fighting to the death for the entertainment of the masses. In the Holy Kingdom such spectacles among the condemned had been strictly forbidden. Instead, it was common to see skilled warriors sparring or public hunts of captured monsters and magical beasts.
But now the arena was being used for something else entirely.
A few hours earlier, the forbidden act of humans killing one another had finally begun.
“…!”
The mastermind behind the fight, Irene, watched from the VIP box, her knees resting on the seat. No matter whether the combatants were demons or former servants of the Darkness Army, everyone could see from her calm expression how dearly she cherished the boy before her.
Yet Irene knew he was thinking of another woman.
“My King, are you thinking of Lady Irene?”
She asked cautiously. She knew her own appearance reminded him of Irene, and she knew the truth.
“There is no such thing.”
Irene answered coldly, then leaned close to whisper into the boy’s ear.
“Your duty is simply to serve me well at night. That is all you are required to do.”
As he spoke, his rough hands mauled her chest.
“Hahk!”
A pained whimper escaped her, yet he felt no remorse. He played with her breasts only briefly before stopping.
“Although you are smaller than Irene was at your age, you are still quite well developed. Perhaps you were never well fed or cared for.”
The words struck a chord of feminine pride, but Irene only bowed her head submissively.
“Tomorrow Irene will once again belong to me. And tomorrow the cursed crown prince—now Emperor Ferdinand von Habsburg—will learn exactly how wretched it is to watch his saintess, Lucretia, suffer as she might have thought it a blessing. Heh heh heh… the ten years I have dreamed of are finally here. Do not interrupt my reverie.”
“Yes, my king. I am sorry.”
Irene immediately apologized.
Ferdinand nodded in satisfaction.
“Besides, it would be a waste to send you away so soon. It is late. Use that mouth of yours properly tonight.”
Irene understood his meaning at once. She slid from his lap, knelt before him, and carefully lowered his trousers. When his erect shaft sprang free, she took it between her lips and began to suck with eager devotion.
Slurp… slurp…
While servicing him, Ferdinand turned his gaze back to the arena and wore a cruel smile filled with cruel pleasure.
“Ugh…”
The knight standing alone on the arena floor clutched his sword, body tense. In his late forties, he had once been among the traitors who betrayed the Demon King years ago.
It had not been the sword pointed at the boy’s throat that caused the betrayal—it had been the silence kept to protect secrets. Still, it was betrayal.
Only one knight remained on the floor. The others watched from the stands, relieved that they were not the ones chosen first. They knew exactly what awaited the man they had once called brother.
Clang!
The gate on the opposite side opened, and the enemy finally appeared.
“W-wife?!?”
Jack’s eyes widened in horror. The figure standing before him was none other than his own wife!
Beside her, his eleven-year-old son—born late in life—clutched a dagger with the same insane light in his eyes.
“Ehehe… you bastard, Jack! I will kill you! You rotten filth worse than garbage!”
“You betrayed the hero who saved the world, so you betrayed your own family! Curse the day you became a father! You wretched man!”
The wife and son hurled curses at Jack while the gathered knights and priests finally understood the true purpose of Ferdinand’s arrangement: he wanted to watch the traitors fight to the death with their own families.
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