Revenge: Shattering the Paladin

The Breeding Uncle didn't take long to track down that bitch for his revenge.

She was probably new to these parts. I knew the local terrain like the back of my hand.

That cunt was likely maniacally scouring just this area, desperate to find Seibul. Wounded beasts don't flee far. Her blood and flesh had trailed off right here.

She was probably assuming Seibul had croaked somewhere nearby and was frantically hunting the corpse.

I kept climbing the tall trees around, scanning the surroundings over and over.

Was it thanks to this title? I could feel my body moving faster and stronger than before. At the very least, I could execute every move I intended without major hindrance. That felt fucking great.

"Found you."

Wandering the forest in that steel plate armor, how could she not stand out? I kept overlooking from above, narrowing the search by spotting glints of sunlight reflecting off metal.

500m. 50m. 5m.

"Who goes there!"

Yeah, at this range, she'd start noticing.

I pondered for a second. Ambush right away?

Feels off. Not a good idea. Straight-up one-on-one then?

Even if she was just some scrub sent to nab Seibul, she was strong enough to join a dragon hunt. She'd trained swordsmanship at the temple too. No clue how she wielded Holy Power, but unless she was shit out of luck, she could probably self-heal with magic or whatever.

Gulp.

Exactly when does my job level up? How? No guarantees, but probably by raping women. The name screams Breeding Uncle, after all.

Self-defense. Only against those who come at me. To survive. To achieve my goals... no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠choice, I guess.

I want cool skills and to fight fair too, but this world's what made me this way, right?

I hold onto my beliefs and sanity as much as I can. Within limits. This is a necessary evil. That bitch killed Seibul.

For now... if I play the clueless fool like yesterday, maybe she'll drop her guard?

"Ah, ouch?! Knight lady??!"

"You... you're that guy from the cave yesterday."

Shing.

She drew her sword from her back. Something swirled around the blade. Fuck, what's that? Holy Power? Aura? Mana? No idea what fancy tech that is—ain't learned shit in this backwater village.

But... do I need to be scared? She's a paladin, after all. From experience, they're personality disasters—hot-tempered, violent pricks—but she wouldn't kill someone in broad daylight with witnesses around, right?

"Um, miss knight...? Why draw your sword? It's just a coincidence...!! Gotta hunt to eat tooo~"

Then our eyes met.

In her mind, I saw a blade slashing my ankles.

"You fucking—"

Shing~

I hurled myself sideways. A white-glowing blade sliced through where I'd stood a heartbeat ago.

"Oh, dodged that? Pig. Got some reflexes, huh?"

I drew my sword too.

"You psycho bitch—temple hack swinging like that? No human rights for you?"

She looked at me like I was insane.

"Why would a peasant count as human? Especially your orc mom. Heh. Guess it's fine to kill you~."

Hmm. Temple average, huh? Shouldn't have pictured normal religious groups. This world's blessed talents ain't gonna be sane.

She cackled, mocking me again.

"Blame your parents. You... piss me off. Fucking disgusting. So if I kill you, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even you might get it, right?"

The blade swung again. At my torso. I backstepped.

But I'd cleared the distance—yet my waist armor tore, blood flowing. The sword glowed brighter, extending. Not extending—shooting something.

Dragon Eye. Fuck, the whole area behind gets shredded—

I whipped out my dagger and flung it at her sword wrist.

Clang—

"Guh!"

Gauntlet. Doesn't matter. Disrupting her swing was the goal.

I leaped opposite as I threw, dodging her attack.

Kraka-boom!!!

Trees to my immediate left got obliterated. Monster bitch.

"Peasant scum... some guild merc?! Should I take this as your guild declaring war on the temple?"

"Fucking bitch attacks first then cries enemy? If you'd stayed put, we could've talked—"

Weeeeng~

Rolled forward to dodge. How many shots does that thing have? Seibul, watching from the sky— this ain't no scrub. Bro's about to die.

This qualifies as emergency.

I mentally selected the third skill I'd picked, learned it. Bit of a gamble... but fuck it. It'll work.

Learned the skill and activated it immediately.

Crack. Grind.

Clang.

Suddenly, the paladin's sword grip shattered in her hand. The blade alone clattered to the dirt.

"Wha? Huh...???"

Yes! Exactly the effect I aimed for.

"Peasant, what did you do? My sword—?"

This skill triples the target's strength, as described.

When she swung earlier, she gripped the blade hard, channeling energy.

Dunno her grip strength, but knight-level—way above normal.

Tripled? Her power would skyrocket beyond imagination.

I'm no expert in this world's swordplay, but betting on basic human anatomy. If all her strength ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠triples—grip, swing, movement—could she precisely control balance and trajectory for advanced techniques?

Footwork, arm power—all altered. She'd struggle to adapt instantly.

Gamble. What if she just got 3x stronger without breaking shit? Predicted she lacked the battle sense.

Didn't predict pure grip strength snapping her own sword.

"Idiot."

You think I'd seriously buff her 3x just for that?

I gripped my sword like handling a baby—weakly—with 7x strength, then slammed it into her leg.

My blade cut through the unarmored spot like butter, shredding her left leg.

"Gaaah, kreeeeaaah!!!!"

Can't stop. Still no gauge on her power. Her guard drop and panic are my only edges.

Hard to control the sword not to swing wild, so I hurled it at her, then smashed my 7x fist into her jaw.

Oof. Jaw flew off. Gross.

I tore her armor like paper.

Hmm, prediction correct. Paladin's regenerating her jaw, going for counter.

"Fuckin' bitch, check those udders. How's a cow like you a knight?"

She'd expected an easy win over peasant trash—sword broken, jaw gone/regrown in agony, now pinned and stripped. My taunt hit perfectly; that one-second flinch was fatal.

How to handle a regenerator?

Hmm. No plans to keep her alive, so smash the spine fast—easiest control.

Even with regen, paralyze below the neck.

Grabbed my dropped sword quick, stabbed deep during her 1-second skill freeze.

Kwajik! Crunch. Grind.

Ignoring her screams, shoved hand into the sword gap, pulverized and yanked out spine chunks.

Fuck, she's strong. If regen held and she bolted to recover... no chance. Wow. Still alive? Gotta clear skill penalty anyway, but damn tough.

"Now, let's see... name."

"Kraaaah!!!! Kreuuuaaaah!!!!!!"

"Hey, keeps regening spine—hurts less if I sever it all, bitch."

"Huuuh, uhuuu...! Sorry, sorry!!! Please—"

"Name."

I kept grinding her regrowing spine with the blade. Fucking tough. Even stabbed, it blindly regens, bones creeping sideways to reconnect. Disgusting.

"B-Beatrice!!! Beatrice de Valois!!!"

"Good. What'd you do wrong?"

"Th-that—"

Hesitated—I gleefully reamed her back. Shredding 0-shaped regrowth attempts.

"Kyaaaah!!! Sorry for cursing! S-sorry for attacking!!!"

"Wrong."

Sigh. Does this fuck even know Seibul's name? Doubt it. No clue she's why I'm here. To her, I'm just a pissed-off redneck going psycho.

Not my bro. Too lazy to explain to trash. You killed my first love, you dogshit cunt. Suffer.

Tortured till her Holy Power drained. But no satisfaction.

Empty.

So goddamn empty.

Won't bring Seibul back with a snap.

Ha... reality hits hard with this shit.

"E, euk... Hiiik…"

Beatrice losing it, strength fading. Spine regen slowing. Yeah. Time to use her like a fleshlight. Planning to kill anyway.

I dropped pants, whipped out my dick.

"Hii, hiiiik!!!! Please, please!! That'll rip me apart, kill me!!!!"

Torture-weary, numb her—suddenly flailing in panic. Head only. Below neck, nerves still severed.

Slowly stripped her blood-soaked remnants.

"What, you pissed yourself?"

Pussy drenched.

No, not piss. Too viscous...

Stepped back instinctively.

"Fuck, spine shattered, dying—and you orgasmed? Ha. Temple psychos."

"Eh...? No, no way!!! Can't feel anything but pain...???"

Shoved my pussy-digging, sticky-fluid fingers in her face.

"Lies... I, Beatrice, temple paladin knight—"

"Sigh, seen few like you but can guess. Sexual deviants. Ha. You like torture? Gross. Went through hell to see you suffer, but you're creaming in delight."

"No, impossible—what—"

"Sigh, arguing's tiring."

Slammed my dick into Beatrice. Heard severed spine means no lower control—but her healing? Pussy clamping insanely.

"You regrow hymen too? No virgin with that fetish."

She was a virgin. But no time for excuses—I fucked her with bored, chore-face efficiency.

Beatrice could only gape in horror at her lower half swelling, pounding.

Not her imagined first time. No princely noble from romance novels, gentle confession, post-wedding warmth.

She wasn't short. But this overwhelmingly bulkier male. Good body? No—protruding gut, chest. Thick lips. Bushy brows. Orc-like, the kind she'd idly crush for fun.

That thing ravaging Beatrice. Not sex. Mating.

Couldn't lift head much—barely glimpsed massive cock bulging belly up-down.

How huge? How torn is my cunt? Can't stretch for that. Numb, so fine.

Dread built: reconnection of severed nerves, sensations flooding.

'Sister knights said first sex hurts. Then this...'

Monster pounding her. Ye-jun gripping slim waist, thrusting faster—couldn't even see belly anymore, just stared blankly at sky.

Till it ended. Till agony hit.

Waited,

waited.

On back, pounded. Face-down. Side. Hoisted. Hours of pistoning, cum splattering—numb time.

Sun dipped from midday.

Beatrice grew scared. Glimpses down: bizarre white fluid everywhere.

"Um..."

Ye-jun hilted deep, final load in womb.

"What."

"If killing... please... just kill me..."

Eh. Voice trembled? Weird.

"Got something to show."

"Eh?"

"Knew you felt nothing. Yet pussy kept clenching. Sucking like mad."

"Y-yes..? What—"

"Don't even know your own reactions?"

Ye-jun chuckled, pulled out—

Flop♡

She'd thought body shakes from pounding, gripping.

No. Body quivering solo on ground.

Choo Ye-jun cradled her head, forced downward view. First in hours—her body... changed.

Toes wriggling wildly. Hips-thighs trembling nonstop. No blood from pussy. Instead—gurgle♡ spurt♡♡

Cum gushing like faucet. Once-tight white pussy reddened, gaping—lonely without huge cock, gaping.

"No way—"

Ye-jun yanked blade, fed her potion. Holy Power recovered; blocked spine reconnected.

Chill. Bad feeling crawling spine. Killer suddenly merciful? No—

Ah.

Over.

21, Beatrice de Valois. Noble-born. Paladin.

Her brain broke.

Ugyaaaaaaaah―――!!!! ♥♥♥♥♥ Ugooooooh!!!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡ Heugiiiiii―――!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤

Overload. Nosebleed. Brain processed delayed info—body reacted consciously, intensely.

Back arched horse-like; geyser from legs.

Aaaaaah!!! Heeeurgh!!! 💗💗💗💗

Man spoke—inaudible. But bliss now.

Kraaaaaah―――!!! ♥♡♥♡♥♡ Uuuuaaaaah!!!!! ❤❤❤

Couldn't control mouth. Worse—instinct: endure or shatter. Knight identity, mind, personality—overwritten by this pleasure-giver.

Must endure.

Haaaaaaaah―――!!!! 💕💕💕💕

Endure... ♡

Ugooooooooh!!!!!!!! ♥♥♥♥♥♥

"Maaaster!!!! Feels so gooood??! Sorry!!!!!! Love you!!!!! Obey everything!!!!!!"

Words spilled. Beatrice didn't know his name, why tormented, why pleasure—didn't matter.

She loved him utterly. That was all.

Enraptured, she grinned droolingly at throat blade.