Ch.254254. Confinement (3)

Those who can touch the body of 11-year-old Cecilia are extremely rare.

And for good reason—the word “royal body” exists specifically to describe an emperor’s physical form, making her body and health matters of utmost importance.

Naturally, besides physicians and the handmaidens assigned to serve her, no one has the opportunity to touch even a hair on her body.

Therefore.

This man who casually approaches her, lifting her chin with his fingertip, must surely be committing an outrageous act.

And the fact that Cecilia the 11th complies with this gesture without a peep is equally abnormal.

‘…Ah…’

The Emperor unconsciously swallowed hard when her eyes met Darwood Campbell’s.

His gaze is stern. She can deeply feel how he clearly stands in a “superior” position, “looking down” on her.

She should feel offended. She should feel violated. She was born and raised in a position where such treatment would be unthinkable.

But instead.

“…”

Her legs tremble. A flush of heat rises throughout her body.

Underlying it all, though she hates to admit it, is:

Satisfaction.

The way this man “handles” her sends shivers down her spine. Goosebumps rise all over her body.

But it’s not an unpleasant feeling. There’s even a tingling pleasure.

Meanwhile, Darwood slowly bent his head to bring his lips to her ear.

“What were you thinking.”

His voice, smooth as if dissolved in poison, followed.

It’s like a sweet scent mixed between silk threads.

Like a drug. She clearly knows it’s harmful, but she simply cannot stay away.

“Coming here with Faynol Leiphec?”

“…”

“Did you come with vulgar desires?”

“…”

“Answer.”

At his chilling voice, the Emperor flinched and slightly averted her gaze.

“…I cannot… deny it.”

The Emperor finally squeezed her eyes shut and admitted it.

It’s embarrassing. She feels like her insides are melting and dripping away.

But.

Facing such a gaze, what else could she do but spill her honest feelings?

There would be no point in lying at this stage.

But the man before her showed not the slightest intention of letting her go despite her embarrassing confession.

He grabbed her chin again, forcing her lowered gaze to meet his eyes.

“So the Imperial Majesty, the mother of all who should embrace all citizens of the empire, came here ‘expecting’ to be handled so carelessly by a mere man.”

“…”

“Answer.”

“…Y-yes… I…”

As she trembled and confessed with a thoroughly reddened face, Darwood’s lips twisted a bit more.

“How undignified.”

Such a scornful sentence cut sharply through her barely coherent words.

The Emperor collapsed onto the bed as her legs gave out, but this man showed no intention of stopping.

“In public, you always pretend to be pure, pitiful, benevolent—you wear all these masks.”

“…Y-yes…”

“And yet, such a person.”

His eyes draw closer.

The Emperor could only gasp, feeling as though her breath might stop.

“Being handled so roughly by a good-for-nothing like me.”

“…Y-you—”

“Why do you look so ‘pleased’ about it?”

With those words, Darwood turned her head to the side.

A mirror there perfectly reflected her face.

“…”

Is this…

My face?

Such a question crossed the Emperor’s mind through her heat-filled consciousness.

Undoubtedly.

Even while receiving such harsh treatment.

It’s a face that looks ‘pleased.’

Something within her is satisfied.

Perhaps.

Even appearing to desire ‘more.’

“What are you imagining right now?”

“…”

“Answer me, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor gritted her teeth.

Her brain feels like it’s boiling. She can’t even guess how much heat is coursing through her body, which feels even hotter.

Her lower abdomen keeps twitching for reasons she can’t understand.

In that state.

Her next words came without her even realizing what she was saying.

“…I don’t even expect to go all the way—”

The Emperor spoke in an almost pleading voice.

It was such a desperate tone that she herself couldn’t remember ever speaking to anyone like this in her life.

“Please, please, allow me to embrace you, even just a little—won’t you show me some mercy—”

The ruler of the Empire.

A person whose every word could cause upheaval across the continent.

Is begging a mere man to embrace her.

After hearing this, Darwood’s lips split into an even wider grin.

“If you insist so much.”

Then, his head slowly lowered.

The Emperor, her eyes trembling, slowly closed them. Eagerly imagining the ‘intense contact’ that would follow.

But.

-Smooch.

“…Huh?”

The Emperor unconsciously let out a questioning sound.

A light touch of lips.

On her forehead.

“No.”

“…”

“Take care of your body, Your Majesty.”

She blinked blankly.

Faynol, who had collapsed beside her with weak legs, had at least received a sticky, wet kiss.

But for her?

Just a kiss on the forehead?

Really?

“You, you’re too cruel…!”

“No. That’s because.”

Before the Emperor’s tearful sentence could fully emerge, Darwood pointed behind him with a grin.

It was that self-satisfied smile he always wore when committing ‘underhanded acts.’

At the end of his finger was a door that had been flung wide open.

It was evidence that the two women, completely defeated by one lip kiss and one forehead kiss, had experienced pleasure typically only attainable through ‘intense sexual contact’…

“I have no reason to do more.”

“…”

“…”

The Faynol-Emperor duo.

Utterly defeated in this match.

●

After escaping that strange room and walking down the corridor for a while.

I glance around slightly to confirm no one is around.

And then.

“…Haaaah…”

I collapse with a deep sigh.

“I survived…”

To be honest, I’ve faced so many crises like this that I’m becoming somewhat numb to them.

But ‘sleeping together’ is truly the final bomb that could completely overturn my precariously maintained relationships with the Vessels.

Of course, the Grey Demon forcibly took it from me, but given its tendency to rarely show itself outside, it probably won’t go around blabbing about it.

‘Please, please stop coming after me…!’

The moment I seriously ‘do it’ with a demon other than the Grey one, it could become the starting signal for a world-ending great demon war…!

[…By the way, that was impressive just now. Seems like you’ve built up quite the experience from all your philandering.]

“…”

I’m not happy about that at all.

As I glare at the Soul Linker thinking this, an unpleasant window suddenly appears before my eyes.

If I search my memories.

I definitely have this ability.

< System Message >

[ Legendary Heart-Melting! ]

[ The proficiency of ‘Title: Playboy’ increases! ]

“…”

What is this?

If I search my memories, I definitely had this ability.

< System Log >

[ Your current title is ‘Playboy’! ]

[ When you flirt with women, you can use more skilled, versatile, and adept techniques than before! ]

[ Your technique was extraordinary, beyond the abilities derived from the title! ]

[ Bonus proficiency is added to your title based on the depth of emotions you made them fall for! ]

So.

To interpret, the title is being upgraded because my woman-seducing skills were more impressive than what the title itself provides.

“…”

That’s annoying?

Well, whatever.

One lesson I’ve learned from getting entangled with these Demonic Vessels is:

The more aggressively these people try to cross the line, the more easily they fall when I push back with proper determination.

Those who quietly watch from afar, waiting for opportunities, are actually much scarier. You know what they say—the dog that bites doesn’t bark.

Now that my push-and-pull skills have improved through all kinds of chaotic experiences, I can quickly counter these amateur ambushes—

[Disgusting…]

“…”

[Now you’re not even trying to deny that you’re some kind of bomber—]

Shut up, please.

What’s this bomber nonsense about?

“…That’s not what’s important right now, Calivan.”

I think this while glaring at the window before me.

Setting aside this unpleasant window, there’s one strange point.

< System Log >

[ Detecting extremely intimate contact with a Demonic Vessel. ]

[ The target’s demonic energy is charging the ‘Seal of Transcendence’! ]

[ Target ‘Red Demon’s’ demonic energy is rising! ]

There’s nothing strange about this part. I’ve seen it before.

The strange thing is:

‘…Why isn’t the other one collecting?’

The Brown Demon’s demonic energy doesn’t show any movement at all.

More precisely,

It’s as if it doesn’t respond to my ‘fatal charm’ skill at all.

The Red Demon didn’t accumulate affection for me either, but this one’s case is somewhat different.

If Faynol was closer to simply not being interested in me, the Brown Demon is more like…

“…It seems like it’s avoiding me?”

[What?]

“You know, that feeling when… just from the atmosphere…”

I swallow my words before speaking further.

Even I thought it was a rather strange statement.

“…It feels strongly like someone who dislikes me.”

[…What?]

Calivan responds with a voice of disbelief.

Good heavens. A Demonic Vessel that dislikes me.

Even I find it an absurd assumption…

[…So gross.]

“…”

What do you want me to do?

I can’t help but be shocked since there hasn’t been a single counterexample until now.

‘Actually, it’s not just dislike…’

There’s a very sinister smell to it.

Among emotions of dislike, it’s particularly malicious.

The kind of dark malice that’s concentrated with thoughts of harming the other person at any opportunity.

‘…The Brown Demon, well.’

At the very least, based on the settings I know from the game, it shouldn’t be that bad of a character.

Though the environment was certainly conducive to developing a twisted personality.

[So, what are you going to do?]

While I was thinking about this, Calivan threw that question at me through the Soul Linker.

[The talent show is just days away. You said you need at least three types of demonic energy, right? You definitely need to get one more.]

“…There’s only one option left now.”

I answer with a sigh.

Calling Riru again to charge demonic energy is an option, but there’s something else that’s more ‘concerning.’

Someone who has remained quiet while all these other women have been charging forward aggressively. Someone who normally would have been at the forefront of that charge.

So, what’s left is:

In both figurative and literal senses:

“…Let’s go see Elnore.”

The final boss.

●