Chapter 3: The Loyal Bitch's Morning Service
In the luxurious bedroom, the thick scent of sweat mingled with a man's dense, musky night-bloom fragrance and a woman's sweet, briny tang, hanging heavy in the air.
On the marble floor, a torn silver breastplate and leather undergarments lay tumbled about like hideous wreckage, while the red velvet bed sheets were soaked through with the virgin blood the two of them had shed, damp love juices, and the milky fluid that had spilled out, painting deep, dark stains across the fabric.
Right in the middle of that tangled, obscene aftermath of the night's coupling, Adelia still knelt obediently, prostrate between Cassian's legs.
"Haah… slurp… hnn, shlp…"
She was the genius swordswoman of the Valentine Ducal Knights, hailed as the strongest in the Empire. An unprecedented hero who had reached the realm of Sword Master at the mere age of nineteen. A peerless warrior before whom anyone in the world ought to kneel and offer worship at her feet — yet not a single trace of that noble swordswoman remained in Adelia's current appearance.
With her enormous pair of breasts, each the size of a man's head, pressed flush against Cassian's firm thighs, she was devotedly lapping up his huge cock, which still pulsed heavy and full.
She carefully swept the bead of semen clinging to the tip of his glans — still boasting its monstrous thickness and grandeur even after ejaculation — onto her plump pink tongue and swallowed it, then nuzzled and suckled at every throbbing vein along his shaft as though each one were precious to her.
"Shlp, schlp… haah… Young Master, your cock… it's so delicious… hnn…"
Adelia took Cassian's cock fully between her lips, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked it deep into her throat.
With it stuffed to the root, her jaw ached dully and her breath kept catching, but her blue eyes brimmed with nothing but the blind desire to please her Young Master.
Cassian sat propped against the headboard, gently stroking the silver ponytail of Adelia as she bobbed her head diligently up and down between his legs.
"Khh… Adelia, you thrashed about so hard earlier, and now you can't even bear to let go of your master's cock."
"Hnn, slurp… hyuh! Of course not, Young Master…! Adelia's life, this body — didn't you give them all back to her…?"
Adelia let his cock slip from her mouth for a moment and whispered through lips glistening with saliva.
Deep in her lower abdomen, her newly reborn blue Mana Core was radiating a calm yet intense pulse of aura.
Her Mana Core had shattered in a death-struggle with a magical beast, and she had been rotting away at the bottom of a pit of despair — then the Young Master had poured his sacred yang essence into her and awakened her as a Sword Master in a single stroke.
He had raised her into the ranks of legends, counted among the ten finest warriors in all the Empire.
The way he had degraded her and violated her like trash was, in truth, a heartrending masquerade of a sovereign — a disguise to perfectly deceive the family's political enemies and the Empire's razor-sharp web of surveillance.
To offer anything to this great lord, her chastity, her honor as a knight, even her very soul were worth not a moment's regret.
"Adelia will devote her life… as your secret, personal sex-slave knight… Whenever and wherever you command, Young Master, Adelia will spread her legs and receive your cock…"
Tears brimming, Adelia buried her cheek against Cassian's thigh and fawned over him.
Cassian swept a hand through her hair, swallowing a hollow laugh inside.
Ah, whatever. I just pick out the women with killer bodies and fuck them, same as always.
Cassian had never had any intention of racking his brain over the matter.
Wondering why he had gained such a bizarre power, or why Adelia had become a Sword Master — even that was a luxury, a nuisance to him.
The woman's body had been absolutely divine, and that was all there was to it. Going forward, he would simply drag whatever beauty caught his eye into his bed and have his fill.
Then—
Knock, knock.
With a tidy, quiet knock, the bedroom door slid open.
"Did you call for me, Young Master? I've brought the washbasin and your clothing to prepare you for the Academy today—"
The maid's voice — she had been stepping into the room with a silver tray bearing warm wash towels and a stately set of noble formalwear — cut off mid-word.
Roberia.
The ducal residence's personal maid, with deep black eyes beneath a neat crop of short black hair.
She wore a modest, unadorned maid's uniform, but nothing could hide her overwhelming, bursting breasts — swollen to the point where the fabric seemed to scream — or her lush, voluptuous hip line.
Hidden behind that pure, obedient shell, Roberia's true identity was an elite spy dispatched from the Shadow Snake, the imperial throne's highest-tier secret agency of intelligence and assassination.
Acting on secret orders from a throne grown wary of House Valentine's military might, she was a cold-blooded assassin planted inside to seize a fatal weakness of the sole heir — the degenerate Cassian — or to poison him should the moment ever come.
But the first sight to greet Roberia's eyes as she opened the door and stepped in was enough to shatter her cold composure to pieces.
……?!
The thick, cloying reek of semen that filled the room.
And on the floor beside the bed, Adelia — the genius knight of the ducal house's own knight order, once the proudest and haughtiest of them all — lay prostrate at Cassian's feet, wearing not a single thread.
Between Adelia's snow-white thighs and buttocks, the crimson virgin blood and milky fluid Cassian had poured into her were trickling down in a wet mess, and she was licking his enormous cock with an expression of pure rapture.
But what truly stunned Roberia was not that obscene tableau.
Th- that aura… it couldn't be…?!
Roberia's black eyes shook with extreme terror and dread.
The brilliant blue radiance rippling from Adelia's entire body, sharp and resplendent enough to sever space itself.
There was no mistaking it — the aura of a Sword Master, the symbol of an absolute powerhouse of whom only a handful existed in the Empire.
Impossible…! The reports said Adelia Vice's Mana Core shattered a year ago and left her a crippled wreck…?!
According to the imperial intelligence bureau's classified files, Adelia was a discarded husk living on borrowed time, her career as a knight finished for good.
And yet now she had not only perfectly healed her shattered Mana Core, she had smashed clean through the wall of high-tier Expert and awakened as a Sword Master.
And the author of that miracle was none other than the degenerate lounging lazily against the bed and looking down at her at this very moment — Cassian de Valentine.
D- don't tell me… all of it was this man's plan?!
Past events flickered through Roberia's mind like a lantern show, and a colossal misunderstanding, a web of deduction, whipped through her like a storm.
The imperial intelligence bureau had written Cassian off as a shameless piece of trash — a womanizer who ran wild on nothing but his family's power.
The horrific bloodbath he had unleashed in the ducal residence half a year ago was the prime example.
One day the Duke had abruptly brought home an illegitimate daughter named Luna, pure as an angel.
When the family's collateral relatives and the retainers angling for favor with the throne sneered at her as a concubine's brat and mocked her, Cassian's eyes rolled back and he drew his sword.
"Any bastard who spews that garbage at my sister — noble or servant — gets his neck wrung while he's still breathing."
Right then and there, Cassian snapped the neck bones of the kin retainers with his own hands, flayed the servants alive, and dyed the ducal residence in a sea of blood.
At the time, the imperial intelligence bureau had concluded it was nothing more than 'the maddened atrocity of a reckless degenerate who lost his mind over one bastard girl and butchered even his own family's kin.'
But… it hadn't been that at all.
Those the Young Master purged that day… were the secret collaborators and planted agents the throne had sown inside House Valentine to hollow it out from within…!
Ice-cold sweat poured down Roberia's spine like rain.
Cassian, playing the raving degenerate and wrapping himself in the justification of defending his sister, had severed the throats of every imperial plant and traitor lurking inside the ducal house in a single stroke.
Using his innocent little sister as his shield, he had completed the internal purge under a pretext so flawless that even the throne could not dare object — a masterpiece of long-game, deep-sunk scheming.
And now, by pretending to drag his crippled escort knight into his bed and violate her, he had perfectly blinded the imperial surveillance net and secretly awakened her into his deadliest instrument of murder: a Sword Master.
The worst degenerate alive…? Hardly…! This man is a monster who has set the entire Empire on his game board and is toying with the throne in the palm of his hand…!
And then, at this very moment—
To Roberia, it felt as though he had calculated the exact instant she would walk through that door and staged the whole display for her.
Cassian's languid, deep violet eyes were fixed on her face as though they saw straight through it.
It was the gaze of an absolute sovereign, coldly sneering: I saw through you long ago, you little rat the throne sent. The moment you try anything clever, I'll wipe out not only your miserable life but the imperial intelligence bureau entire.
A terror so absolute her heart threatened to freeze solid.
The dread of facing an untouchable beast of prey crushed down upon Roberia's voluptuous body.
"Hey, Roberia."
Cassian rose slowly from the bed, threw a silk robe carelessly over his shoulders, and spoke in a low voice.
Roberia jolted in alarm, dropped to her knees with the tray still clutched in her hands, and bowed her head as though to crack her forehead against the floor.
"Y- yes…! Young Master…!"
"Standing in front of the door first thing in the morning, dazed like an idiot — what's the matter, are your eyes broken?"
Cassian let out a wide, bored yawn as he strode over to Roberia.
The thick, masculine scent rolling off his powerful frame, laced with the heady smell of Adelia's love juices, stung the tip of Roberia's nose.
As he passed by her, Cassian gave her enormous breasts — straining so hard against the front of her maid uniform that they threatened to burst the seams — an idle smack with his palm.
Jiggle—!
"I'll say this for you — that body of yours is sinfully lush. Quit standing there like a fool and go draw my wash water. If I'm late to the Academy, I'll report you straight to the head of the house and beat that ass of yours until it's a bloody pulp."
Cassian had merely flicked the maid's breasts in passing — they were simply so huge and heavy that it amounted to nothing more than a bit of mischief.
But the instant his hand grazed across those massive breasts, a jolt of electricity shot through Roberia's entire body.
Hnn…?!
To Roberia, that touch was no idle teasing — it felt like the brand of an arrogant master flaunting that he had long since seen through her identity, that he spared her life only on a whim, and that he could trample her into his personal bitch whenever he pleased.
Along with the fear, an inexplicable heat surged up from deep within Roberia's belly.
The secret place she had kept shriveled and dead through a lifetime of training that killed all emotion to forge her into a cold-blooded assassin began, at a single domineering touch from Cassian, to dampen shamefully.
If I defy this man… I won't even leave bones behind — I'll die… no, something far more terrible than death… like Adelia over there, I'll be skewered on his cock and broken into a perfectly obedient bitch…
Gripping the tray tight with trembling hands, Roberia's already flushed cheeks burned even redder.
The loyalty to the throne that had taken root in her heart was slowly beginning to crack — giving way to primal fear of the great predator called Cassian, and to a lewd, creeping submission.
"U- understood…! I'll prepare everything at once, Young Master…!"
Hips trembling faintly, Roberia scurried in flustered haste to the washbasin.
Watching her go, Adelia fixed a frost-cold glare on the maid's retreating back.
How dare a lowly maid receive the Young Master's touch…
In the blue eyes of Adelia, newly awakened as a Sword Master, a razor-edged aura of jealousy flickered — the possessive hunger to monopolize Cassian all to herself.
Before long, washed and dressed, Cassian boarded the enormous carriage waiting before the ducal residence's front gate.
It was a carriage of the very finest grade, the black dragon crest that was the symbol of House Valentine emblazoned in brilliant pure gold.
Inside, plush tiger-hide seats were laid out, and chilled wine and sweet confections were stocked to perfection.
Across from Cassian sat Adelia, composed and demure in her freshly donned armor.
To all appearances she was exactly what she ought to be — the austere, glacial escort knight of the Empire's foremost house — but beneath her silver armor, from the waist down she wore nothing at all by Cassian's command: completely, utterly pantyless.
Every time the carriage jolted, Cassian's semen, still brimming deep inside her narrow flesh, dribbled in thin threads down the inside of her thighs.
"Nn… hnn…"
Twisting her thighs together, Adelia stole glances at Cassian with her face flushed scarlet.
Merely knowing that the Young Master's seed filled her to her very depths was enough to make her nipples draw taut and her lower belly throb with excitement.
Cassian crossed his legs, gazed out the window, and smiled a lazy smile.
In the distance, the Esteban Imperial Academy was coming into view — its colossal, majestic spires thrusting skyward as if to pierce the heavens.
A cradle of elites, drawing nobleborn scions and genius mages and haughty imperial princesses from every corner of the Empire.
But to Cassian, it was nothing more than a gilded den of pleasure — a lavish playground stocked with lovely noble daughters to sweeten his boredom.
"The Academy, huh… I wonder which pretty young lady will be waiting for me today."
The carriage bearing the degenerate of House Valentine rolled on, unchecked, toward the great front gates of the Academy.