Count Melrn (1)
A bizarre tattoo floated on Emilia's lower abdomen. Mona examined it slowly, as if savoring the sight, then stomped hard on Emilia's groin with her boot. Emilia, frozen in place and merely heaving her chest like a bellows with each breath, let out a sharp cry.
"Ahhh…?!"
Mona's boot—its hard sole—crushed and ground against Emilia's slit. At that stimulation, and the humiliating shame of not only exposing her pussy to another but having it trampled so wretchedly, Emilia's delicate eyebrows twitched like trembling willow branches as she exhaled a ragged sigh.
But it wasn't just simple shame... No, there was something else... something strange... a prickling sensation...
What... is this feeling...?
It's weird... something itchy... what is it...?
It's being stepped on with a foot... but strangely... it feels... keeps feeling... more and more...
"Hehe, perfect. No problems there."
Mona looked down at the puzzled Emilia with a beaming, delighted smile, then rummaged in her bosom and pulled something out, stepping closer. A sharp click echoed from around Emilia's neck. It took her a moment to realize it was a collar, the kind used on dogs or slaves.
And this wasn't just any collar.
"It's a magic tool enchanted with the Absolute Obedience spell. Your first time with one of these, right?"
"...What...?!"
"Ufufu, it's not much use on its own... You have to meet some tricky conditions to activate it..."
Mona chuckled as she teasingly traced a finger over the ornate tattoo on Emilia's smooth, lovely lower abdomen—a mark shaped like a womb. Emilia, hypersensitive for some inexplicable reason, let out a pathetic moan from that alone.
As long as this tattoo remained, she could never escape the collar's spell. And once fastened, it was over. The enchantment was already etched into her soul; even destroying or removing the collar wouldn't free her.
Mona attached a silver chain—prepared as a set with the collar—to it, then yanked the leash and dragged Emilia out of the altar room.
Under the spell's dominion, Emilia followed obediently without a hint of resistance, stumbling along as Mona led the way. She couldn't even cover her naked body, parading her shameful, fully exposed form down the corridor...
* * *
What the hell... happened to me...?
And what happens now...?
Emilia lacked even the energy to voice such questions, and Mona probably wouldn't answer anyway. She just bounced along the corridor with buoyant glee, heading somewhere.
Emilia's hands were bound behind her back with leather cuffs—unnecessary given the spell, but apparently Mona felt it looked too empty without them. With Emilia's strength, she could shatter the ordinary cuffs in an instant if she channeled her magic and power. But for some reason, the will to do so simply wouldn't rise.
It felt as if her very intent to rebel had been uprooted entirely.
"We're here," Mona announced, stopping before a door. It was no less magnificent than the altar room—perhaps even more opulent. She opened it and strode in, tugging Emilia's leash.
"Yat-ho~! We've arrived~♪"
Beyond the door lay an astonishingly vast, luxurious, and opulent chamber. Mona entered with a jaunty salute of one arm. At the commotion, a man who had been sipping from a glass while gazing outside turned toward them.
He seemed to have been preparing for something, clad only in a thick white bathrobe. In the room's soft lighting, there—at the far end—sat the man Emilia had so desperately hunted.
A sturdy build, taller even than her father. Sharp features behind glasses that held no memory for her, an impression of cold detachment. Though she'd chased him in rage just moments ago, his face and appearance matched her recollections almost perfectly.
"Count... Melrn...!"
"......"
Count Melrn. The sworn enemy of Emilia and her house. The man himself approached with emotionless slippers slapping softly against the floor.
Arms pinned behind her, Absolute Obedience collar around her neck, eerie tattoo glowing faintly on her lower abdomen—she stood utterly exposed before him. Yet even with the enemy right there, she couldn't cover her nakedness. He scrutinized her shameful state from every angle, head to toe.
"Ugh..."
Those inorganic eyes, appraising her like an object, sent chills down her spine. She shrank back instinctively—but his hand shot out, forcing her to stand straight. She couldn't even avert her gaze.
"...Hmm."
The man—Count Melrn—reached out impassively, gripping her dainty chin and lifting it. He turned her face this way and that, inspecting it closely, then brought a strand of her golden silk-like hair right up to his eyes.
He met her gaze, staring deep as if to drag out her very soul. Satisfied, he released her face.
And then, finally—he examined her right hand.
The crude tattoo there: sword, sun, scales. Proof of the Hero's Blessing, the vivid, intricate mark declaring her the hero.
He peered through his glasses intently.
And then—he laughed.
"...!"
Screeeeech, his mouth splitting wide to both sides like a monster's, twisting into a grotesque, horrific grin that ruined his otherwise refined features. Yet he made no effort to hide his joy, laughing with utter, unbridled intensity.
What... what the hell...?
Emilia swallowed hard and instinctively stepped back, but Count Melrn's hand seized her arm, yanking her forward.
He laughed. Laughed. Laughed.
Count Melrn loomed over her, laughing.
"Ehi,"
"Ehehe,"
"Ehehehehehehehehe,"
"Ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe――"
"Eheheheheheheheekheheheekheheekheekheekheekheheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahehehehkheekhahufuhuhihihihihehehahhakufuhukkeekakukkeukkukkukkukkukkukkukkkukkahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!"
The horrific laughter poured right into her face. Emilia's slender shoulders trembled.
She knew she shouldn't, but faint terror crept into her eyes anyway.
――What the hell is this.
――Why is he laughing like that...?
That grinning face was utterly horrifying. That voice was utterly horrifying. His gaping maw looked like the jaws of the Gluttony Devil itself, poised to devour her. Ridiculous as it was, she feared he might swallow her whole.
Her heart pounded; she tried to steel herself, but it crumbled right alongside her resolve...
* * *
"Aha, aha, aha, ahahahaha..."
"Fuuu... my apologies."
And so it was—only when Emilia's face twisted in revulsion, on the verge of breaking—that Count Melrn finally ceased his monstrous cackle.
Unlike his initial doll-like impassivity or the madman's glee that followed, he now wore a calm, intellectual smile. She couldn't keep up with the shifts. Which face was the real one?
She had much to say, but first, furrowing her delicate brows, she spat out what rose foremost.
"Laughing in someone's face is rude. What the hell are you?"
"Forgive me, I got carried away. How could I stay calm when the treasure I've thought of every single day for years is finally before me?"
"......"
It grated on her. She wanted to punch him. Facing her nemesis, Emilia scowled and summoned her rage—the hatred she'd nursed without fail every day.
She hurled it at him like a sharpened blade laced with killing intent.
Filthy bastard. Drop dead.
"Hero Emilia, at any rate, a pleasure. I'm Count Melrn... You know me?"
"...You fucking dogshit. Damn trash! As if I'd forget you! You haven't forgotten me either, have you?!"
"Of course not. I've thought of you every day for years."
Count Melrn's lips twisted strangely once more, caught between that horrific grin and his more ordinary intellectual smile—distorted in a bizarre limbo.
"I am your sworn enemy, Hero Emilia."
"The man who killed your father, Edgar Edenberts, and raped and defiled your mother—that man is me."
"...How about it? Feel like killing me a little?"
Arms spread wide, he declared it proudly. At that attitude, those words, Emilia's fury surged past its limits—she could almost swear lights flashed before her eyes.