Ibaiyo Village - 3: Reigniting the Flame
I relit the extinguished candle. The flickering flames brightly illuminated the surroundings.
The men, clutching their crotches with both hands, had collapsed to the ground. They were all screaming in agony, their voices nearly shredding their vocal cords. Some couldn't endure the pain and passed out one after another.
"By the rules set by the village chief, I will cut off the manhood of everyone gathered here."
Castrating men was still unfamiliar to me. But once I thought of these scum's cocks as the root of all evil, any hesitation at the blade's edge vanished. With each swing of my sword, the repulsive things were severed in droves, sending waves of pleasure through me.
'Yeah, these bastards deserve to suffer like this.'
Now only one remained. I pulled a potion from my bosom and uncorked it, pouring the contents into the former village chief's abdomen.
As his wounds began to heal, his groans quieted. Just as he seemed to ease from the pain, I dropped the potion to the floor.
Crash—! The bottle shattered, sending glass shards flying everywhere. The moment the fragments hit the ground, I swung my sword.
"Gaaahhh!!"
The former village chief's penis was neatly sliced off, another scream of torment bursting forth. But that wasn't enough. With my toe, I kicked a glass shard into his ballsack, embedding it deep.
The former chief convulsed, reaching the limit of bearable pain. He could die from shock at any moment, but I had no intention of granting him an ordinary death. Borrowing the power of my aura, I erased the very concept of bleeding from his body.
Death was now impossible for the former chief. Yet even without bleeding, the excruciating pain wouldn't end. He flopped around like a freshly caught fish—quite the comical sight.
"Village chief, what do we do next?"
"We need to hand them over to the slave traders later, so lock them up and isolate them in this meeting hall."
"Sounds good. But won't we be short on village labor?"
"We'll buy slaves to fill the gaps. Apply the village's new rules to them and grant freedom in moderation—they'll work far better than these pieces of trash."
Slaves were bound by enslavement magic, making disobedience impossible. As long as the coachman—no, the village chief—held the reins, there'd be no issues. But one concern lingered.
"Is it okay to turn commoner villagers into slaves like this?"
"The lord only cares about population numbers. Slaves don't pay taxes, but if we pay that equivalent, it'll be fine."
"Sloppy population censuses aren't ideal, but it works in our favor here."
Turn the village men into slaves, then buy new slaves to replace their labor. It was a brilliant solution, earning my nod of approval. Normally impossible, but having lived long in Ibaiyo Village, they knew the lord's disposition well.
"By the way, any interest in renaming the village?"
"Sure. Got a recommendation?"
"Raniruba. Let's go with Raniruba."
"First time hearing it. Any meaning?"
"Yes. Pure love."
Reversing the current name Ibaiyo gives "Yobai," slang for night-crawling. So I reversed "vanilla"—symbolizing pure love—to Raniruba. The chief stroked his chin, then gave a thumbs-up.
"We'll rename it Raniruba. It'll take time to fully change, but someday we'll erase Ibaiyo from the empire's maps."
"The name can wait. Prioritizing the rot in this village comes first."
"Yes. I won't squander the chance you gave me."
I tied up the unconscious ones with rope, while inflicting extra pain on those barely clinging to consciousness until they blacked out. Not a single one escaped; I bound them all and tossed them into a corner of the building. To prevent escape attempts while I was away, I left a message in blood.
[Try to escape, and next I'll cut off your balls too.]
One might argue that without an exit wound, balls are useless anyway—but true suffering resides in the testicles. They wouldn't want pain worse than this, so they wouldn't dare flee unless desperate. If they did, I'd show them hell.
"Thank you for your help. I'll handle the rest."
"You sure you're okay alone?"
"I'm not alone. There are a few more victims like me in the village. They've endured daily torment too. I hope this sight brings them some solace."
Of course there'd be more victims. Leaving it to them would work out fine. Some revenge might happen, but I'd turn a blind eye—that much was deserved. Plenty of ways to revive them anyway, as long as they clung to life.
"Now that you're chief, you'll have to stay in the village awhile. Who'll drive the carriage?"
"I'll find a new coachman soon. Please stay here until then. Unless you're in a hurry..."
"No problem. I can wait as long as it doesn't take over a month."
I wanted out of the empire ASAP, but I couldn't ignore the tragedy here. Things were mostly sorted, but sloppy finishes often backfired. There's no harm in leaving after seeing the village normalized.
"It's late—let's discuss details tomorrow. I'll clean up, so rest first."
"Alright, I won't refuse the hospitality."
With all threats neutralized, I sheathed my sword and stepped outside. As the cool night breeze hit me upon leaving the meeting hall, I sensed a presence and turned to see Dalia bowing to me.
"Thank you for helping my father."
"You watched the whole thing, didn't you?"
"You knew?"
"Felt your intense gaze."
She'd overheard everything I discussed with the chief, so she knew our plans. Probably followed out of worry for her father. Despite witnessing the village men's dicks sliced off—including the former chief—she seemed unfazed. A dutiful daughter who worried about her father above all.
"Father suffered from those past events. He smiled and pretended to be fine in front of me, but wept silently behind my back."
"You knew he was being blackmailed?"
"Yes. But I didn't know what to do. I wanted to leave without being a burden, but I feared he'd take his own life if left alone."
"Running together would've drawn the villagers' ire—scary thought."
Dalia nodded in affirmation. Resenting her own powerlessness, she gripped her skirt hem tightly before letting out a deep sigh.
"I wanted to help Father somehow, but I couldn't leave the house. The villagers always watched me."
I recalled Dalia opening the door for me. Maybe to ask for help. But before she could, I'd already aided her father, leaving no time for talk. That's why we conversed now—but I shook my head.
"Save the thanks for later. Go to your father now."
"Huh?"
"Tell him how you feel. He's shed the regrets of the past that tormented him—now plant hope."
"...Thank you."
Gratitude can wait. But mending ties with her father? Now was the time. Not wanting to interrupt, I gestured for her to hurry. Dalia bowed again and entered the hall.
Romantic as it was, I didn't leave. I'd starved for too long. Since the NTR ending wrecked me, I hadn't seen a touching scene once. So the chief's revelation—that he'd raised her like a daughter despite not being blood-related—had secretly thrilled me.
A father who endured everything for his daughter's love, and a daughter who'd always worried for him. With evil's root excised, I couldn't miss the scene they'd create.
The father-daughter voices echoed from inside the hall. Anticipation building, I crept closer—and heard someone collapse.
"D-Dalia? What are you saying?"
"I love you as a woman, not just family, Daddy!"
What?
"Don't joke. We're family—you're my daughter!"
"Can't I be your wife instead? Wives are family too!"
"What nonsense is that! Find a proper man, not me..."
"No other man but you can be romantic to me!"
What the hell am I watching?
"You just haven't met other men yet."
"No, nowhere in the world will I find a man who cherishes me more than Father!"
"What's good about this old fart..."
"...Ha, you really drive me crazy, Daddy♥"
Riiip—! Dalia tore her clothes off mid-strip. In an instant, the pair were naked, reminding me anew: this was an eroge world.