Chapter 161: Exposure and Voyeurism
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 161: Exposure and Voyeurism
Sex burns fewer calories than exercise. However, depending on the position, duration, and intensity, it can sometimes be more effective.
Having met those conditions, Cynthia and I were utterly exhausted and sprawled out. When we regained some strength, we felt hungry.
That's why we went to the dining hall early in the morning. But there was already someone there.
“You're an early riser, Baron? Or did last night's commotion keep you up like it did me?”
Duke Signir was already eating. Isabel was seated beside him.
“Last night's commotion?”
I naturally joined their table. An uncomfortable-looking Cynthia sat next to me. I was facing the Duke, and Cynthia was facing Isabel.
“A certain couple made quite a racket last night, as if trying to wake the entire city. Didn't you hear it?”
The Duke narrowed his eyes at me, a sly grin playing on his lips.
He was clearly suspicious of me. Then again, there were only a few people with enough power to openly carry on like that within the inner castle.
“Hmm. A pity. I was tired from the long journey, so I went to bed early and heard nothing.”
Having anticipated this suspicion from the moment we started, I calmly feigned ignorance.
Cynthia was different. She had returned to her usual expressionless face as if nothing had happened, but now she flinched.
The Duke, focused on me, didn't notice her reaction. The problem was Isabel, who had witnessed the events of last night with her own two eyes.
“You must have been truly exhausted. A woman was crying out like some kind of beast, and it kept me up all night…”
A smirk.
Isabel, looking directly at Cynthia, curled her lips into a knowing smile.
Cynthia’s brow twitched. She didn't look away. After all, Isabel had also shown her vulva yesterday.
Just as sparks were about to fly from where their gazes met…
“Hah—”
Suddenly, Cynthia gasped and began to tremble, whipping her head around to glare at me. My hand was caressing her ass.
‘Are you insane?’
The dining hall was bustling with servants constantly carrying food. We could be discovered at any moment.
If we were, rumors that the Saint of Benevolence, famous for her charity, had engaged in lewd acts in a public place would spread like wildfire.
‘You know you like it.’
That's precisely why this environment was perfect for stimulating Cynthia's particular tastes. I grinned at the sight of her slightly flushed cheeks.
Meanwhile, Isabel, who had been watching her, widened her eyes slightly, and her smile deepened. Her face showed she guessed what I was doing with my hands.
Cynthia had now captured the Duke's attention as well. He looked at her with a wary gaze.
“Come to think of it, who is this person?”
The Duke was asking who she was to so brazenly join our table. Since I hadn't properly introduced her yesterday, his curiosity was understandable.
“This is Cynthia. A priestess who led efforts in poverty relief, known to the world as the Saint of Benevolence, isn't that right?”
“Ah, that…?”
It had been ten years since the Archbishop left the northern continent. The Pope had spared no expense in supporting Cynthia to fill that void.
It was all for his own goal of establishing a Holy Kingdom. Thanks to that, even a great nobleman like the Duke had heard of her.
The Duke's expression immediately relaxed. He didn't seem to think that the renowned Saint of Benevolence could be the cause of last night's disturbance.
“But… isn't she one of the Pope's lackeys?”
“She was.”
When I gave him a meaningful smile, the Duke's eyes widened.
“…Meaning she isn't anymore?”
“Aren't you curious? What kind of face would the Pope make if the saint he raised for propaganda purposes were to publicly support an antipope?”
Cynthia's existence would grant legitimacy to the Archbishop becoming Pope without the proper procedures.
“Hah… Baron, your resourcefulness is truly remarkable.”
The Duke, his expression now much more serious, exchanged a look with Isabel. Suddenly, the words he had urged upon his daughter last night flashed through my mind.
‘He tried to use my troops as sacrificial lambs, and now he’s trying to win me over with his daughter…?’
Given that the Duke had been trying to persuade me from our first meeting, he probably wasn't genuinely hostile. He likely just intended to weaken my forces to make me easier to use.
Still, to try and win me over with his daughter after pulling a stunt like that—wasn't that just too shameless?
‘Nobles, I swear…’
This is an age of barbarism, where those with the power to take something do so as if it's their right. For nobles, especially high-ranking ones like a duke, such scoundrel-like behavior was common.
The Duke probably didn't even think he had done anything wrong.
“Excuse me.”
Just then, a servant brought our food, interrupting the conversation. As I withdrew the hand that was caressing Cynthia's ass, she let out a sigh of relief.
But it was too soon to be relieved.
“…!”
As soon as the servant left, my hand returned. This time, I went even further, my fingers delving into the crack of her ass.
This infiltration was possible because she was sitting with her rear perched just on the edge of the chair. There was a reason she was sitting so uncomfortably.
My fingers brushed against something hard in the cleft of her buttocks. It was the dildo I had inserted before we left the room.
Every time I nudged the dildo inserted in her asshole, Cynthia trembled violently. Her lower garments were growing damp, the fabric darkening in color.
I asked her with my eyes.
‘What are you going to do when it’s time to stand up?’
‘This is all your fault…!’
Cynthia answered my question by glaring daggers at me.
Enjoying her firm ass and sensitive reactions, I continued my conversation with the Duke.
“The end is truly near. Once we deal with the Alliance and the Pope's remnants, it will be decided who sits on the throne of the northern continent, won't it?”
Even with the throne just a step away, the Duke looked indifferent.
“Do we really need to worry about defeated soldiers? The Alliance's forces were reduced to a handful in the last battle, and the Pope, having lost the Holy Land, has suffered a massive blow to his authority and lacks the power to recover. Furthermore, we have intelligence that Count Momond was critically wounded and is on his deathbed, so there's no need to worry.”
It seemed the Duke was already thinking about his showdown with Dresden. Sure enough, after having a servant clear his place, he continued.
“You seem to be in a difficult position, caught between me and Dresden. How about you pull out at this point? This isn't your war. Without you, Dresden would never have even made it this far, so he can't complain if you back out.”
“Can you beat Dresden without me?”
The Duke smirked.
“A long time has passed since Dresden left the northern continent. To the northerners, Dresden is nothing more than an outsider.”
“So… if it becomes a two-way fight between you and Dresden, the north will side with you?”
“Because we northerners will fight each other to the death, but we unite when an external enemy invades.”
He was right. If it really came down to a two-way fight, Duke Signir would likely seize victory.
However, he was mistaken about one thing.
“By that logic, shouldn't the Alliance and the Pope have the upper hand? You, for a time, joined forces with Dresden, an outsider, to strike at the Alliance.”
The Duke frowned.
“As I said before, the Alliance and the Pope are no longer my competition.”
My goal was to make the three powers—the Pope, the Duke, and Dresden—destroy each other. To do that, I needed to show the Duke that, contrary to his belief, the Pope was still a formidable rival.
“That's a judgment you can only make because you don't know the cards the Pope is holding.”
“What are you—”
I placed a bottle of Holy Water on the table. To make it look more impressive, I had deliberately put it in an Eastern-made glass bottle. It was also a freshly produced batch.
Flinch.
Cynthia, who was already clenching her teeth to endure my handiwork, trembled violently. Her expression slackened slightly, becoming almost disheveled.
Fortunately, the Duke's gaze was fixed on the Holy Water. He tilted his head and spoke.
“What is this?”
“Holy Water. A special kind with exceptional healing effects on external wounds. According to Cynthia, the Pope has a mountain of this stuff in his secret vault.”
“Special Holy Water…?”
The Duke's expression was one of disbelief.
Instead of persuading him with words, I decided to show him its effects directly. I grabbed a servant who was carrying food and cut off his arm with a knife.
Blood sprayed from the severed limb, splattering across the table, the food, and the plates.
“Aahk—”
“What are you—”
Isabel screamed. The Duke shot to his feet. The servant whose arm had been cut off fainted from shock and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
I calmly placed the severed arm back against the stump and poured the Holy Water from the table over it.
The severed surface bubbled and sizzled, then slowly began to knit itself back together. When I poured water over it, a smooth, unblemished arm was revealed, as if it had never been cut.
“No, how is this…?”
Needless to say, the Duke was once again astonished. I woke the fainted servant, had him confirm his arm was moving normally, and then spoke.
“Count Momond will recover, just like this man. And is that all? Think about it. An invincible army that never retreats, even when stabbed by swords or their limbs are cut off. And us, having to face such an army.”
No matter how many times you swing your weapon, the enemy doesn't die. Meanwhile, your allies are cut down without end. The moment our soldiers witness that, their morale would plummet.
“If Count Momond and the Pope rally their forces and receive more support, they will become increasingly difficult to deal with. In other words, time is not on our side.”
Now, while we held the advantage in the quantity and quality of our troops, was the only chance to deal with such a powerful enemy.
“And in this situation, you're preparing for a showdown with Dresden? The Pope, who stands to gain from your conflict, will be clapping his hands in delight.”
And if we missed this opportunity, the Duke's dream would vanish into thin air forever.
Having witnessed the effects of the Holy Water with his own eyes, the Duke no longer refuted my words. Instead, he collapsed back into his seat with a sigh and asked me.
“There's one thing I don't understand. You've been hostile to the Pope from the very beginning. Why are you so hell-bent on killing him?”
What's in it for you?
That was probably what the Duke wanted to ask.
He suspected my ulterior motives. After all, my actions went a bit too far to be explained away by my contract with Dresden.
“If the Pope were to win by default and establish his Holy Kingdom, wouldn't that put the cities of the Coastal City Alliance, which I worked so hard to conquer, in a difficult position?”
The Duke nodded. It seemed my prepared excuse had worked. However, his suspicion wasn't completely gone.
“Hmph. Let me be frank. Aren't you and Dresden close? If you two join forces and stab me in the back after we finish off the Alliance and the Pope, I'll end up doing all the hard work for a pair of traitors.”
“That seems like an excessive worry. Isn't your force larger than mine and Dresden's combined?”
The Duke let out a short laugh.
“I have seen a single superhuman turn the tide of a losing battle time and time again. And you, Baron, are the one who brought down such a superhuman.”
It seemed that by demonstrating my competence in both martial prowess and strategy, I had earned the Duke's wariness.
“So, are you saying you're going to give the Alliance and the Pope time to recover?”
“Not at all. I agree with the fundamental premise that we must deal with the Alliance and the Pope first. However, I need a guarantee that you won't stab me in the back.”
“You sound like you have something in mind…”
The Duke raised the corner of his mouth and turned his head to the side. I quickly nudged Isabel's leg and gestured with my eyes toward the Duke.
Isabel, who had been completely focused on the fidgeting Cynthia, finally snapped back to reality.
“Father?”
With his hand on Isabel's head, the Duke turned back to me and smiled again.
“What alliance is more trustworthy than one sealed by marriage?”
When the master of the house is away, the neighborhood thieves' eyes will surely glint.
The Duke mentioned that I would eventually have to return to my base in the western continent and said he could help me manage the Coastal City Alliance.
“Are you telling me to betray Dresden?”
“There's no need to go that far… All I want is for you to stop here and go back.”
He just wanted me to stop helping Dresden. In return, becoming the son-in-law of the King of the North was a profitable deal.
“Even so, a betrayal is a betrayal.”
I shook my head. Knowingly ignoring the Duke's scheme was no different from betrayal.
Furthermore, I doubted the Duke would truly trust someone who so easily betrayed an ally for personal gain.
And the price for this betrayal was merely help in managing the Coastal City Alliance.
For proposing something as momentous as betrayal, his offer was too clumsy. As if he had some other hidden agenda.
“So, are the negotiations off?”
“If those are the terms, then I have no choice but to refuse.”
Therefore, when the Duke sought to confirm, I gave him a firm refusal.
The Duke frowned. As silence fell, only the sound of his fingers tapping on the table continued for a long while.
Then, just as I was beginning to think my judgment had been wrong…
The Duke grinned.
“You pass.”