The Tyrant Tears the Semen Thief Apart - 2
“It looked rather interesting.”
In the Royal Palace guest chambers, Jenny smiled as she poured tea into the cup set on the table.
“Pardon? What did?”
The young mage Jane tilted her head. She had only come along because her master had said it would be good experience.
“That man clinging to the tyrant’s side.”
“You mean the Royal Consort?”
“Yes. The rumors about him being a lustful creature and so on were flying thick and fast… and it seems those rumors may have understated the truth.”
He looked delicate at a glance, yet he was as hardy as any male. Even among the rare male mercenaries and knights, few could match that level of strength.
Jenny was a mage, and so her experience of the outside world was thin—but not nonexistent. Between that and the gossip traders hauled in and out of the Magic Tower, she could hardly claim total ignorance of how the world worked. Still, her grasp of reality left much to be desired. Living shut up in a study had left her with precious little practical experience.
“Is that so? I wouldn’t really know.”
“Heh. Once you cultivate an eye for these things, you’ll understand naturally enough.”
At any rate, Jane fell quiet for a moment and took a sip of the steaming tea. Brewed from the leaves used in the palace, its fragrance and flavor were extraordinary.
“Haa…”
Clink. Jenny set her cup down, the soft rattle reaching Jane’s ears.
“Anyway. If the chance presents itself, I should collect a sample.”
“Excuse me? You’re going to lay hands on the Royal Consort directly?”
Has she completely lost her grip on reality from living locked up in the Magic Tower?
Jane’s eyes went round with disbelief. Having rolled through life as a slave before washing up at the Magic Tower, she was far more streetwise than Jenny.
“Hm? My, what wild notions you get.”
Jenny cocked her head as if Jane were the strange one. Fortunately, it seemed her sense of reality had not completely abandoned her.
“I hear the Royal Consort makes love every single day. In that case the bedding must get thoroughly soiled, and someone has to do the laundry.”
Apparently they put the maids to it rather than bother with purification magic. Jenny smiled, recalling the rumors she had filed away.
Jane nodded as understanding dawned.
“Ah… from there?”
“Mm. Collecting the semen left on the blankets and so forth should do nicely.”
“And what do you intend to use it for?”
“Well. For good research, of course.”
No ready answer came. Jenny sealed her lips with a sly little smile, and Jane quietly went back to sipping her tea.
Master and apprentice though they were, their relationship was distant; there was little real closeness between them. If anything, Jane was far better acquainted with the traders who came and went. She had stumbled into the path of a mage thanks to a chance talent for mana, but the temperament forged out in the world had not changed.
For a slave, what mattered was reading the master’s mood—more precisely, the mood of anyone above her. When a superior was pleased, you flattered them and scraped up whatever crumbs fell. When they were not, you stayed well out of their line of sight. Loitering where you could be noticed was a fine way to get badly hurt.
I’d better take her measure first.
Jenny was her master. But a master did not take responsibility for her life. Master or not, she was ultimately just a mage obsessed with magic.
Jane chewed on her private tension and offered a soft, practiced smile meant to soothe. Her flattery was polished enough that it never looked awkward.
Hmm.
The next day, after a solid night’s sleep, Jenny cast a spell to render herself transparent and slipped outside.
The subjugation force had not yet been assembled; it would be some days yet before they could leave the palace. In the meantime, she had resolved to pass the time by collecting Albert’s semen—or other fluids, and if possible even blood.
Having come this far into the world, securing as many samples as possible, and the best ones at that, was simply good sense. It was greed, yes—but for Jenny it was also the most natural feeling in the world. How could a mage without ambition ever reach the truth? That conviction was rooted deep.
Found her.
A maid came into view just then, arms full of thoroughly soaked bedding as she walked the corridor. Jenny naturally fell in behind her and followed all the way to the palace laundry.
The chamber, walled in gray brick, was vast and surprisingly well-aired.
“Hey, you’re here?”
A maid who had been hanging other blankets on the drying racks brightened and came over. Even unused guest rooms had to be kept spotless, so everyone—maids and servants alike—had to keep moving.
“Yeah. Doing it again?”
“Of course we are! You’re not?”
“Obviously I am?”
Doing what, exactly?
Jenny tilted her head and watched the two maids from a few paces away.
The one with the bedding flung the wet blanket over an empty rack, and then—
What is she doing?
—buried her nose straight into the wet patch. Not content with that, she hiked up her long skirts with one hand and brought the other between her bare thighs. The maid on the other side of the blanket was doing the exact same thing.
“Ah… it’s so filthy… the smell…”
“I’m so jealous of Her Majesty. She gets to take this thick semen into her belly every day.”
They pressed their noses into the soaked bedding and began to masturbate in a frenzy. The maid who had carried the blanket was especially fervent with her hands. The steamy scent she had breathed in the king’s bedchamber was still vivid in her mind.
Unbelievable.
Masturbating while sniffing the bedding. Jenny sighed in exasperation even as she drifted carefully toward the blanket. It was soaked through; there was plenty to extract.
They look completely out of it, so I shouldn’t need any extra magic.
If the maids had been clear-headed, she would have had to put them to sleep. Fortunately that seemed unnecessary. Their heads clearly held nothing but thoughts of climax.
Jenny reached toward the blanket and raised her mana with extreme care. Too large a flow would alert the two females.
One drop.
Two drops.
Pearls of milky-white semen gathered at the edge of the fabric, then fell toward the floor—or rather, arced through the air in a neat parabola and were sucked into the small glass vial in Jenny’s hand.
She wrung the semen free the way one might squeeze a sopping rag, and before long the vial was full.
This should be enough.
Jenny calmly stoppered the bottle with a cork and left the laundry. She had no desire to linger beside maids moaning in heat.
Anyone who works under a tyrant is bound to be unhinged.
Birds of a feather. Jenny shook her head as she walked the palace corridors.
“Oh? Did you go out somewhere?”
When Jenny returned to the room, Jane greeted her while toweling damp hair. The concealment spell that rendered her body transparent had been dismissed long since.
“Mm. Just a quick look around. Were you bathing?”
“Yes. I went to the palace baths—they’re enormous. The baths attached to the Magic Tower were nice, but nothing compares to the palace.”
Jane’s innocent smile drew a gentle curve to Jenny’s lips as well.
“Well, wealth gathers here, so it can’t be helped. At any rate, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Yes. It’s all thanks to you, Master.”
“Oh, spare me the flattery.”
Jenny gave a short laugh, sat at the table, and drew out the glass vial she had tucked against her body. A bottle brimming with thick, white fluid—Albert’s semen.
“What’s that?”
Jane slipped into the seat opposite and asked.
“The semen I mentioned yesterday. The timing was perfect, so I went and collected it.”
“What? Really?”
That’s… that?
Jane’s eyes went wide, and Jenny’s shoulders lifted with pride.
“Yes, it is. I took a sniff while I was collecting it… truly potent stuff. My head nearly spun.”
“That strong?”
“Mm. The talk of him being extraordinarily virile doesn’t seem to be empty rumor.”
Vulgar as the ranking was, a first place was still a first place. Even Albert himself had felt a quiet swell of pride upon hearing that particular rumor—so there was nothing more to say.
Jane turned the vial this way and that with open curiosity, then slowly lifted her gaze.
“But what do you plan to do with this semen?”
“As I said yesterday, I’ll think on it carefully. I’ve already put it in a bottle under a preservation spell, so the sample shouldn’t spoil.”
“Ah… I see.”
Jane nodded vaguely and stared at the bottle of semen. She had heard that the obsession surrounding the Royal Consort ran far past ordinary. If word got out that someone had milked his seed like this—would they simply let it go?
All manner of worries and stray thoughts flickered through Jane’s mind.
Fortunately, nothing came of it. Time simply passed—until the day the schedule for capturing the experimental subjects was finally set.
“We march this afternoon. The subjugation force will use the troops stationed out that way, so we only need to bring ourselves. Travel light.”
At last Beatrix summoned Jenny to the reception chamber and declared her intention to set out. The long-awaited moment had arrived, and Jenny’s face bloomed with a broad smile.
“I am most grateful, Your Majesty.”
Jenny bowed her head with formal courtesy, and Beatrix gave a small nod in return.
“Go prepare.”
“Yes. I shall take my leave.”
Jenny finished her hasty farewell and left the office, then went straight to the guest chambers to ready herself for departure.
“We’re finally leaving?”
Jane asked as they packed together. The thought of leaving the palace left a strangely wistful look on her face. After the comfort they had enjoyed, that was only natural.
“Yes. We’re finally heading out. I want to get my samples and return as soon as possible.”
The experimental subjects she desired danced before her eyes, and Jenny looked especially elated—enough that Jane wondered if she might do something careless.
Jane finished packing in silence, then met Jenny’s eyes. Distrust was written plain in her gaze.
“By the way… that semen. Will it really be of any use?”
She knew bodily fluids like blood could serve as materials, but semen… Jane trailed off, and Jenny answered with a smile.
“Everything has its uses. I’ve been thinking these past few days—it might even be applicable to the subjects we’re about to capture.”
“Pardon?”
“The experimental subjects. I hear there are a few males mixed in among the females here and there. If we use the properties of this semen as a base to condition them, couldn’t we produce sturdier bodies? He is a powerful male, after all.”
“Uh… I’m not sure I follow.”
“Hm… really?”
Jenny set her packed bag on the floor and folded her arms, considering how to explain more simply.
“Ah.”
After a brief pause she clapped her hands and answered.
“Put simply, think of it as increasing the number of men like the Royal Consort.”
“…What?”
In that instant Jane’s eyes went enormously wide. Her pupils shook without mercy.
*
Late at night.
A campfire burned, and a few tents stood scattered across the campsite. Beatrix sat in one of them with her arms crossed. Before her, a woman in a robe knelt on one knee.
“So that’s how it is.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Requesting an audience and asking for personnel—that much Beatrix could accept. But this crossed a line.
Beatrix frowned at the report her shadow had brought. The interior of the Royal Palace was as good as Beatrix’s own stomach. Jenny had known that well enough, yet she had never imagined the queen would keep a shadow on her the entire time. And so she had spoken her true intentions freely to Jane—and those intentions had reached the shadow’s ears intact.
“Leave us.”
“Yes.”
The shadow slipped quietly out of the tent, and a thin sigh escaped Beatrix’s lips. An eerie light gleamed across her eyes.
Copying Albert.
There was exaggeration and misunderstanding in it, no doubt—but one hard fact remained.
She had stolen Albert’s semen.
The king’s property—and of all things, Albert’s seed, which could fairly be called the most precious of it. Steal that, and even a death sentence would leave no room for complaint. Even if the source had been waste destined for the drain.
“Pardon the intrusion.”
While Beatrix was pondering how and where she would tear the woman apart, the knight standing guard outside entered carefully.
“What is it?”
Beatrix asked in a thoroughly settled voice. Fresh from unpleasant news, her mood was foul. The knight swallowed dryly and reported that a guest had arrived—not an especially welcome one, but one who piqued her curiosity.
“The mage’s apprentice? Send her in.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Permission granted, the knight stepped back outside. Shortly after, the robed mage Jane carefully set foot inside the tent. She fidgeted, clearly terrified.
“Ah… a-ah… I present myself before Your Majesty.”
Jane bowed her head with utmost care. Her voice was shaking badly.
This is absurd.
Beatrix sighed as if emptied out and asked,
“What do you want?”
“Ah… I, that is…”
Jane stammered, struggling to steady her racing breath. She had come to save her own life, but facing Beatrix alone filled her with fear. Standing before a tyrant who treated human lives as nothing, how could it be otherwise?
Beatrix furrowed her brow and almost spoke—then quietly folded her arms instead. She knew that in moments like this, waiting was more efficient than pressing. More precisely, waiting until the girl could master her own emotions.
After a few minutes had passed,
“I… I have something I must tell Your Majesty.”
At last, Jane’s mouth opened.