Chapter 34
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Confinement 3
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Tak-.
The sound of Adella's hand swatting my wrist away was heavier than it was sharp.
The friction heat left by her calloused palm brushing my skin cooled instantly into the temperature of cold rejection.
"I'm fine."
Her voice was dry. She seemed calm on the surface, but her brown eyes were hardened with unwavering vigilance.
She quickly pulled her ankle back and retied her boot lace herself. There was no hesitation in her knot-tying hands. The taut sound of leather stretching filled the brief silence.
'Failure, huh.'
I awkwardly withdrew my hand and cleared my throat. Even the miracle of [Persuasion (Lv.2)] couldn't find a crack if the target's defenses were too solid.
To Adella, I was still someone she couldn't fully trust. The only times she'd let me touch her body were under the pretexts of 'survival' and 'duty.'
The forest evening arrived without warning. The branches outside the window stretched long black shadows, creeping into the room. The old watchpost was soon swallowed by darkness.
When I lit the fireplace, the crackling logs spat orange flames, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
As the night deepened, the forest's silence grew heavier.
Adella laid out straw near the fireplace and settled in. She didn't remove her armor. Despite how uncomfortable it must have been, she didn't even loosen the straps of her breastplate. She sat with her knees up, dozing off with her head nodding.
The firelight illuminated her profile. Her long eyelashes cast deep shadows under her eyes, and her tightly pressed lips refused to relax even in sleep.
I was curled up in the opposite corner, but sleep wouldn't come. Cool air seeped in from behind my back, untouched by the fireplace's warmth.
'Touch her.'
A whisper echoed in my ear. Hallucination. The emperor's instinct. The twisted remnants of suppressed desires from ninety-nine deaths reared their heads in the darkness.
'Right there. Defenseless. Your guard. She's duty-bound to protect you. She won't kill you if you touch her. At worst, she'll push you away or get mad.'
My heart pounded. I swallowed hard. Adella's chest rose and fell with her steady breaths. The pronounced curves bulging over her leather armor. The warm, soft skin hidden beneath.
'Go check. See if she really rejects you or if she's secretly waiting.'
Truth be told, I desperately wanted to touch her too.
I sat up. The rustling straw on the floor sounded like thunder. Adella didn't stir.
I crept closer. My shadow, cast by the firelight, loomed over her body like it was pouncing. Up close, her face was etched with exhaustion.
Dark circles under her eyes. Dirt smudged on her cheeks. A small drool mark at the corner of her mouth.
I reached out. My fingertips trembled. Even without [Delicate Touch] activating, her body heat rushed toward me. The heartbeat pulsing through her armor.
Whoa... I want to touch her so bad.
'Touch her.'
My fingers were just about to brush her shoulder.
"Mm..."
Adella shifted and let out a pained groan. Her brow furrowed in distress.
"Ugh... sorry... sorry, little brother... sorry."
Sleep-talking. The slurred words were clear enough. Little brother. She was calling out to the sibling she'd lost to the nobles' schemes long ago.
Her hand flailed in the air before clutching at her chest, as if desperately trying to hold onto something.
"I... I should've protected you..."
Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. A single drop trickled down, soaking into her ear.
I froze. My hand hung in the air, lost and motionless.
My desire cooled coldly.
Even in her dreams, she was fighting. Battling the guilt of a past she couldn't protect.
On the outside, she was a steel warrior, but inside, she was still a wounded big sister. What had I been about to do to her?
'Am I really this much of a pervert?'
Self-loathing surged. I'd tried to use her just to survive, just to indulge.
My hands that had kneaded her ass and groped for her breasts felt filthy now.
I bit my lip hard. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
I pulled my hand back.
Instead, I picked up the edge of her fallen cloak from the floor and gently draped it over her shoulders. Careful movements. I held my breath so as not to wake her.
Adella's breathing steadied bit by bit. Her furrowed brow relaxed, and the tension left her clenched fist.
I gazed down at her sleeping face for a moment, then turned away.
The fireplace flames were dying down.
I returned to my spot and lay back down. The chill at my back persisted, but this time, I felt like I had to endure it.
"Sleep well."
I murmured to myself in the darkness and closed my eyes.
A week in the black forest passed slowly. Time stagnated like stagnant water in the utter stillness where not even rustling leaves could be heard.
The wooden floor of the old watchpost creaked with every step, and the smoke rising from the fireplace left soot stains in the ceiling corners, swirling ever so slowly.
The first two days were filled with hope. The dimensional stone. The only key to escape this world. I pieced together fragments of game memories like a mosaic,
sketching forest maps and guessing locations of hidden caves and ruins late into the night.
But by the third day, the excitement faded.
Perfect isolation. And perfect boredom. The only thing boiling in that boredom was my pent-up desires.
'I just want to touch her tits at least.'
I chewed my lip staring out the window. A bitter taste lingered on my tongue.
The view was monotonous. An endless wall of dark blue trees. Inside the rundown building trapped between them, there was only me and Adella.
She still hadn't disarmed. She washed every day, but her leather armor clung to her like a second skin, and her longsword was always within reach at her waist.
I stole a glance at her. Adella sat by the fireplace, sharpening her longsword. The rhythmic scrape of whetstone on blade echoed steadily.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, glistening in the firelight. The outline of her breasts, pronounced over her armor, shifted subtly with her breaths.
But I quickly looked away.
Ever since hearing her sleep-talk a few nights ago, I couldn't look her straight in the eye.
'Sorry, little brother.' The image of her tormented by guilt even in dreams was burned into my mind, unerasable.
The tear that had fallen just as my filthy hand reached out crushed a corner of my heart like a hot lump of lead.
I consciously avoided her. At meals, I didn't meet her eyes. When sleeping, I lay as far away as possible, back turned.
When she spoke to me, I gave curt replies and excused myself.
It was consideration—and self-defense. If I got any closer, my perverted desires might burst through the thin membrane of reason.
And I feared that desire would wound her again.
'Damn it.'
I yanked at my hair and leaned my head against the wall. Prison was better. At least there, survival gave me an excuse.
I'd kneaded her ass freely once,
but here, I was just a pathetic man frustrated with unfulfilled urges.
Scrape. Scrape.
The sharpening stopped.
"Lord Batanias."
Adella's voice pierced the silence.
I flinched and answered without turning.
"What."
"You need to eat. Lunchtime passed a while ago."
She stood and approached me. The sound of her leather boots pressing the floor grew closer.
I forced myself up and sat in the chair. On the wooden tray she offered were hard bread, a few strips of dried meat, and fruit.
She set it down and stood across from me. She didn't sit.
"Is something bothering you?"
She asked. A subtle tremor laced her voice.
"No. Nothing."
I picked up the bread and averted my eyes. I glared only at the worn leather strap of the scabbard at her waist.
"For the past few days."
Adella took another step closer. Her shadow fell over me.
"You've been avoiding me."
Right on the mark. My chewing jaw stopped. I swallowed and coughed awkwardly.
"Avoiding? Nah. Just got a lot on my mind."
"That's a lie."
Her firm voice cut off my excuse. She stepped right up, bending at the waist.
Her face lowered to my eye level. Her brown eyes bored into me.
"You won't look me in the eye. You barely talk, no jokes."
She was close enough to feel her breath. Leather scent from her armor gaps mixed with her unique body odor wafted over.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Her question was pure. And that purity made me feel even more wretched.
It's not you who messed up—it's me being trash. I avoid you because I'm a pervert fantasizing about groping your ass and tits whenever I see you.
But I couldn't say that.
"No. It's not that."
I turned my head and tried to stand.
Tak.
Adella's hand pressed my shoulder. Strong grip. She pushed me back into the chair and stared straight into my eyes.
"Tell me. I need to know to fix it. I'm your guard. If you're uncomfortable, I can't do my duty."
Her gaze was earnest. Knightly duty. But beneath it flickered anxiety about me.
Clearly confused by how I'd gone from casually touching and joking to suddenly cold.
I sighed. No escape.
"It's not discomfort."
I licked my lips.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"A few nights ago, when you had that nightmare. I tried to touch you."
I blurted it out. Screw it. Words tumbled freely.
Adella's eyes widened.
"Touch me?"
"Yeah. Wanted to grope your sleeping body. Ass, tits, whatever. I stopped when I heard you sleep-talking in pain. But I'm sorry. Embarrassed that I tried to take advantage of my own guard."
I'd said it. Relief mixed with burning shame. She'd despise me now. Maybe slap me and call me a pervert.
But Adella didn't get angry. She stared blankly, then slowly withdrew her hand.
"That's why?"
Her voice was oddly subdued.
"Yeah. So don't worry. Won't happen again."
I muttered.
"I already knew."
'...Huh?'
Her tone was calm, like pouring water into a teacup.
Her brown eyes curved softly toward me, a quiet smile forming.
"Don't underestimate a knight. I heard you tossing all night, holding your breath. Felt your hand reaching then stopping. I grew up in war camp barracks. Trained to wake at a leaf brushing the tent."
I froze, bread crumb clutched in my hand. Crumbs sifted through my fingers.
"Ah."
I fumbled for excuses, but my throat clogged.
She knew. All my restrained desires—she'd heard and sensed them in the dark.
Adella shrugged at my fluster.
"But it's fine."
She rolled up her shirt sleeve and sat in the chair opposite. The old wood creaked.
"You stopped. Reached out but didn't touch. Desired but didn't act. That's what matters. So don't apologize. Better you show desire than make things awkward. Nothing harder for a guard than her charge avoiding her."
Her words were logical, knightly. But laced with subtle generosity.
Effort to see me not just as a protectee, but as a man with desires.
"Treat me comfortably. Like before."
She said, popping a cooled meat strip into her mouth. Her chewing lips looked unusually red.
A few more days passed after that.
The forest time dragged, but my body's clock raced. Comfort was poison.
Relaxed flesh screamed to fulfill breeding instincts over survival. Pent-up lust surged through veins, dominating my brain.
Adella kept her promise, treating me casually. Laughing at jokes, staying by my side on forest walks.
But that ease only tightened the noose. Her shaking breasts when she laughed, her taut ass line when she walked. Every glance layered with lewd fantasies.
My complexion darkened to ashen death. Dark circles settled under my eyes; lips cracked dry.
"Are you sick?"
Adella asked worriedly. Her hand reached for my forehead. Her cool palm touching sent chills down my spine.
"No fever, but you're pale. Barely eating."
She cupped my cheek, meeting my eyes.
"What's wrong? Tell me. I'll do anything I can."
Her sincere gaze. Her flesh scent teasing my nose up close. Sweat, soap, leather— that subtle aroma snapped reason's thread.
"Actually..."
My mouth moved on its own.
"I want to touch your tits."