Guardian: Derek Walker 20
The night road seemed darker than usual tonight. Her footsteps felt as heavy as if iron weights were stuck to her shoe soles, but Rita mustered her courage and took one step at a time. Finally, the temporary barracks used by the territory army came into view.
From the entrance, an indescribable foul aura enveloped her body. She hesitated to move forward, but thinking of the village's future, she gathered her resolve once more. She had already steeled herself for this.
Even though it was the dead of night with a full moon high in the sky, the barracks lights blazed brightly. The raucous chatter was clearly audible. It was a chaotic clamor without a shred of discipline. Rita knew little about the military, but she could tell right away this was a unit with lax discipline.
She swallowed hard and stepped forward one foot at a time. True to their status as regular troops, there were sentries guarding the entrance—though their shabby uniforms were patched in countless places. As Rita approached, one sentry thrust out his palm to halt her.
Halt. Who goes there?
A low voice rumbled from beneath his helmet. Rita's muscles tensed involuntarily.
Hey, isn't that the woman the captain mentioned earlier?
Another sentry recognized her.
Ah, yeah.
The two guards at the entrance eyed Rita up and down, exchanging words between themselves. Vulgar innuendos. Rita ignored the words she could hear, praying time would pass quickly.
Thanks to Phallax's prior notice, they let her in without any identity check.
Damn. Standing sentry on a night like this.
Tell me about it. Grunts like us don't even get to join the feast. Fuck, I gotta get promoted just to vent this frustration.
Rita left the grumbling soldiers behind and entered the building. Pushing open the worn wooden door revealed a long corridor stretching ahead.
Rita, who regularly cleaned this place with the villagers, knew the layout well. The boisterous laughter was coming from the mess hall. Straight down the corridor, then left—that led to the mess hall, a place she'd cleaned countless times.
She dragged her heavy feet forward. The closer she got to the mess hall, the louder the racket grew. Her anxiety rose in proportion.
Screeech~!
Rita cracked open the mess hall door and peeked inside. As expected, the knights and soldiers were gathered there.
To the victory of our territory army! Cheers! Those dumb orcs are no match for us!
The one raising a golden goblet with a hearty laugh was Phallax, the territory army captain. Centered around him, those who appeared to be knights clinked their glasses, reveling in the feast.
Haha! Yeah! It's an expedition, but it feels like we're on vacation.
Glug glug! This village brew packs a punch. Made with herbs, right?
Haha! Eat and drink your fill today! A soldier rests hard when it's time to rest!
Phallax looked different from earlier in the day. Instead of his leather territory uniform, he wore light cloth garb. The knights and soldiers around him were similarly dressed down.
Rita cautiously pushed open the thick mess hall door and stepped inside. In the rowdy atmosphere, they noticed her a beat late.
More drinks! We're running low! Tch! Wine's best poured by a woman...
Huh? That woman over there—isn't she the one the captain mentioned?
A sharp-eyed knight spotted Rita. Phallax burst into even louder laughter.
Oh ho! You made it! Perfect timing. Come here!
Gone was the fake politeness from earlier. With his face flushed from drink, Phallax patted the empty seat beside him, calling Rita over.
Rita approached with careful steps. A small shadow of dread fell over her face, contrasting the greedy smile on Phallax's.
The table was laden with a lavish feast. Local village brew filled the spots—strong stuff. The vibe resembled a village festival, but it felt deeply unsettling up close.
Wine's best when a woman pours it! Give it a try! Haha!
Phallax held out his glass. Rita carefully picked up a nearby bottle. At least this was manageable. If she could get him drunk before things turned dangerous, she might survive the night unscathed.
Clutching that hope, Rita poured into Phallax's glass. The liquid gurgled like a brook, filling it to the brim.
Glurk! Good stuff!
Phallax was notorious in the territory army as a heavy drinker. He downed the potent Allen Village brew in one go. With a satisfied face, he slammed the table and grabbed a snack before lifting his glass again.
Today's a great day. On a great day, you need strong drink and a beauty. Pour more.
Yes.
Rita refilled it. But this time, Phallax passed the glass to her.
Can't have me drinking alone on a night like this. You drink too.
......Understood.
Rita wasn't much of a drinker, but she could handle half a bottle. She often had a few glasses at village festivals.
She closed her eyes and sipped slowly. Fiery heat scorched her throat. It felt like poison. Losing consciousness in this den of disorder would spell disaster. Rita prayed her mind would hold out against the alcohol.
The knights clapped in delight, lower-ranking soldiers amped up the mood with dances and songs. The star of the show, Phallax, drained glass after glass, shouting joyfully.
Urk! Watching these guys dance is making my eyes sore. A dance needs a woman to shine. You lot! Don't ruin the vibe—get out!
The soldiers, prancing like performing monkeys, retreated at his command. His gaze turned to Rita, her face reddened from drink as she poured.
Let's see those dance moves! Heat up the atmosphere right, and I'll give you a big reward. Kra ha ha!
At his words, Rita set down the bottle and stood. Her legs wobbled from the buzz. But she took a deep breath, steadied her mind, and straightened up.
Phallax swept the food from one corner of the table with both arms, grinning broadly. Plates crashed to the floor with a sharp shatter, food scattering into trash. Having cleared space, he pounded the table.
Now everyone can see—a fine stage! Haha! Dance your heart out here!
Yes....
Rita climbed onto the table carefully, avoiding a fall. Her long skirt caught slightly on her legs, but she balanced with minimal movement.
Up on the table, she faced a sea of leering, greedy eyes. They were surely imagining her naked. Reading men's minds was surprisingly easy.
A crawling-bugs sensation prickled her skin. Rita squeezed her eyes shut.
What are you waiting for!? Start already!
At Phallax's bellow, Rita began to move slowly. She waved her arms gracefully, crossing her feet to a light rhythm. It was a traditional dance from the western Miles Kingdom—subtle motions typically performed by women at autumn harvest festivals.
Rita's delicate, fluid movements perfectly softened the overheated drunken revelry. Soldiers who had leered with crude smirks were captivated by her graceful form; even knights who had stripped off shirts to chug booze set down their glasses to watch.
Kra ha ha! I like it!
Phallax clapped happily too. Rita's air of refinement appealed to him greatly. The more he watched, the more he wanted her for himself. Born to nobility, she'd fetch a high price. She didn't belong in a backwater like this.
But... it's still lacking. Let me teach you something better.
Drunkenly bold, Phallax suddenly stood. He lumbered to Rita, climbed the table, and embraced her from behind.
Eek!
Startled by the abrupt contact, Rita cried out. Phallax tore her top off casually.
Riiip!
No matter how drunk, a knight like Phallax could shred rags effortlessly. He roughly stripped her undergarments too. Rita tried to resist, but she couldn't match his strength.
As her breasts bared, knights and soldiers cheered and clapped.
As expected of the captain! So bold! Heh heh!
First appetizer this tasty! You know your stuff!
Haha! Breasts as pretty as her face! Definitely not the village type!
Phallax appraised her bare chest. Rita covered with her arms, but he forced them down.
Dance already! The mood's heating up—don't kill it!
Phallax roared. Rita's face flushed with humiliation. But the others, including him, clapped gleefully at the sight.
Heh heh! Forgot why you're here? Dance!
Captain! This bitch seems broken—let me fix her.
A knight beside Phallax approached Rita suddenly. He ripped her long skirt with brute force. Rita shrieked and shrank back again.
Kekeke! Won't dance? We'll strip you bare.
I-I'll dance! I will!
As the knight went for her last panties, Rita cried out in terror.
Rita bit her lip and resumed dancing. Her arms naturally fell from covering her chest. Tears streamed as she moved. The audience howled with laughter, clapping in delight.
Captain. You planning to have her tonight?
Heh heh! Obviously. Gotta replenish before deployment, right?
Th-then maybe I could...
Rengen. Don't cross the line.
Phallax's subordinate Rengen flinched at the sudden chill in his voice and nodded.
Phallax was infamous in the territory army for his brutality—even to underlings, he showed no mercy. His one redeeming trait was this bold flair.
Good. I've waited long enough. Time to taste this bitch's insides!
Phallax stood, stripping off his pants. Rita's lewd (self-made) dance had stiffened his member.
Seeing Phallax approach with a lewd grin, Rita toppled from the table. Having fallen on her butt, she scooted back, crying out.
C-Captain...!
Didn't you come prepared!? Heh heh! Don't worry. I won't make it hurt!
Phallax's bloodshot eyes resembled a monster's.
Why is big sis here...
Bianca, who had secretly tailed her sister, tilted her head seeing Rita enter the support troops' temporary warehouse. A bad premonition stirred.
'Sentries there. Must be a back way in...'
Slipping past the entrance guards was easy. Bianca, who had cleaned here often with her sister, knew every nook. Probably most villagers did.
Bianca prowled the warehouse perimeter, eavesdropping. Noisy voices came from the mess hall side.
She crept along the wall to the mess hall door, peeking through the crack. She saw soldiers reveling in debauchery. Her sister was pouring drinks there.
'W-what? Why is big sis pouring drinks in a place like that...'
Bad feelings always proved true. Bianca fidgeted anxiously, staring at the mess hall.
When her sister danced with a humiliated expression, she nearly burst in. But charging would solve nothing. She couldn't decide what to do.
-Let me teach you something better.
S-Sis!
As Phallax tore Rita's clothes and toyed with her, Bianca's rage peaked. It didn't end there—Phallax outright mounted her.
Sis!
Unable to endure, Bianca flung open the mess hall door and charged in.
Bianca!