Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Going In!
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The lump of flesh squishing in my palm was utterly pliant.
Instead of the resilient muscle one would expect from a warrior's ass, honed by swinging a sword, there was only the subtle give of waterlogged cotton—soft fat sinking into the gaps between my fingerprints.
I tightened my fingers, grabbing a fistful of her buttock like I was ripping it free. Through the thick shell of her leather pants, the tender flesh beneath quivered in terror at the grip of my hand, the sensation transmitting perfectly.
99 deaths.
The chill of my throat being slit, the searing agony of my heart pierced, the horrific melting of my guts from poison—they exploded in my mind like fireworks.
Standing at the end of all that torment, with this woman in my grasp, certainty surged through me: she was the one who'd stolen one of my lives last night. A dark crimson desire boiled up from the depths of my gut.
It wasn't mere revenge. It was the twisted instinct of a lecherous emperor, desperate to bury the terror of death beneath the most primal act of life.
"Hngh!"
The moan escaping her lips was muffled, but laced with unmistakable coquettishness.
She twisted her waist, clutching the iron bars, trying to evade my touch—but I shoved her hips harder against them.
Thud. The dull sound of her pubic bone smacking the cold bars echoed.
My hand delved insistently into the cleft of her ass. The taut seam of her pants scraped against my nails.
Her hot body heat seeped through the leather into my palm. Her sweat-scent hit me—a sour-sweet feminine musk that filled my nostrils and numbed my reason.
'You dare steal my life? Then you owe me yours.'
I pressed my lips close to her ear, growling like a beast as I huffed my ragged breath into it.
"Don't you usually finish with a proper goodbye, Captain?"
My hand slid up to her waistband. The belt buckle was already loose. Without hesitation, I yanked roughly at the waist tie of her pants and tunic.
Riiip.
With a harsh friction, the pants slid down to mid-thigh. Half of her pale ass was exposed raw in the dungeon's gloom.
Goosebumps prickled visibly across the skin exposed to the cold air. The plump, succulent cheeks trembled defenselessly before my eyes.
I thrust my hand through the bars, gripping her hips tight and pressing my lower body flush against the iron.
My already rock-hard cock wedged through the gap, prodding the cleft of her ass.
"Spread 'em. You know the drill."
Her body jolted like she'd been electrocuted. No more moans—just ragged breaths thick with terror and shock.
Her hand shot back desperately, trying to block my wrist.
"What the hell! We never did it like this!"
Her voice trembled, laced not with acting, but genuine bewilderment. The dry, mimicking tone of fake Adella was gone, replaced by a stranger woman's shrill cry.
I sneered at her resistance, clamping my fingers deeper into her flesh, hard enough to bruise.
"What're you talking about? Every night, you shoved it back at me first. Ass spread wide, waiting."
Pesuasion (Lv.2)
Infused lie weighs heavier than truth.
Her pupils shook like there was an earthquake. Chaos exploded in her mind. Had the real Adella really done this?
The emperor was acting so brazenly—it might be true. If so, did she have to go along to maintain the disguise?
But the hot, rigid shaft rubbing between her cheeks, probing to invade, far exceeded her tolerance.
"Th-this... this can't be real."
She muttered. The wall of rationalization cracked. Her assassin instincts smothered the shame, signaling survival.
Her body froze in an instant. As she tried to pull her ass back, her upper body spun like a top.
Whoosh—
A sharp tearing sound cut the air.
Something flashed from her hand, flying straight at my forehead.
"Die!"
Flash.
----A streak of light shot in.
Clang!
A sharp, clear ring pierced my eardrums.
The silver dagger flying straight at my brow halted mid-air, as if slamming into an invisible wall. A bluish ripple spread from the tip like waves.
The space between the bars shimmered momentarily, the air condensing like jelly in a bizarre spectacle.
Clink.
The powerless dagger dropped limply to the floor. The metal bounced and spun noisily on the stone, coming to rest at my feet. The dim torchlight glinted off its keen blade.
I stared blankly at the weapon on the ground. A bead of cold sweat trickled down my spine.
My heart pounded like it would shatter my ribs. Just 0.1 seconds ago, I'd imagined that blade piercing my brain.
'I lived.'
A sigh of relief escaped as a hollow chuckle. As expected of the imperial dungeon. That tiny footnote in the setting guide.
[The underground prison where imperial blood is held operates an ancient ward at all times. Any attack—physical or magical—carrying clear killing intent toward the prisoner is automatically blocked.]
Attack with killing intent blocked.
That's why they'd gone for elaborate poison in the food instead. Stabbing with a knife would've been easy—now I felt it in my bones.
"I figured you knew... but no helping it."
She spat lowly. Resignation outweighed shock in her voice. Swift acceptance of an unavoidable force beyond her mistake.
She didn't hesitate. The instant assassination failed, her body reacted.
Even with her pants sagging awkwardly, she leaped back with astonishing spring.
"Hup!"
Her motion to hike up her pants was too fast to track.
She roughly buckled her belt, kicked the fallen helmet into the air, snatched it mid-flight, and tucked it under her arm—all in fluid sequence.
Fake Adella's eyes flicked to me one last time. Shame, rage, and strange astonishment mingled there.
'This guy's insane.'
Her gaze screamed it. An emperor standing there shamelessly pants-down even in the face of death.
Tap-tap.
She spun and bolted. Her leather boots struck the floor with light, stealthy rhythm—nothing like Adella's heavy tread.
Her silhouette melted into the shadows, receding swiftly.
"Hey! You bitch! Where do you think you're going!"
I gripped the bars, bellowing. The chains rattled against the iron.
"You owe me one—take responsibility!"
My shout echoed off the corridor walls, but she didn't look back. Her cloak fluttered like a snake's tail, vanishing around the corner.
Silence fell. Only the fallen dagger and my heaving breaths remained.
I leaned my forehead against the bars, steadying my ragged breathing. My stomach churned. Lust, fear, and fury roiled together inside me.
A chilling thought flashed through my mind.
If she's the fake...
Where's the real one?
The woman who'd gruffly brought water every night. The one who'd stripped naked before me, pretended not to blush, and grumbled. Where was the real Adella now?
The fake had worn her armor. Her helmet. Even carried her waterskin. So the real Adella was disarmed—or worse.
An ominous premonition chilled my spine.
"Hey! Anyone there! Hey!"
I bellowed until my throat tore.
"Guards! Get over here now! Alert!"
Murmurs rose from the corridor's dark end. Distant sentries reacting to my yells.
Urgent footsteps approached. Shadows flickered with torchlight.
"What happened!"
The soldier skidded to a halt before the bars, panting. His eyes widened, darting between the dagger on the floor and my raging form.
"Catch Patrol Captain Adella! That woman who just left—she's a fake!"
I jabbed a finger, shouting.
"Seal it off now! And find the real Adella! She might be dead!"
The soldiers milled in confusion.
"Prisoner, what're you talking about?"
"No time to explain! Your real captain's in danger! Shut up and fetch Duke Karls—right now!"
My persuasive roar echoed thunderously. A few soldiers bolted off.