How hard did Usher strike the chair? Suddenly, he realized that at some point, his memory had disappeared. The suppressed anger, the forgotten desire for revenge, the resentment and hatred for having tormented Belka, the sense of betrayal — all swirling together — created such a fiery heat that his mind was wiped blank. When he regained consciousness, he saw himself still lifting the chair. Had time not passed at all? For a brief moment, he wondered if he was mistaken. But then, it became clear; he saw Mac lying on the floor, unconscious.

    His bare body was marked with blue and dark red bruises scattered across it. The chair he held had shattered under the impact, fragments shattered and scattered on the ground. Yet, he still felt lacking. Even after his rage had flared intensely, the burning heat that still lingered like ashes urged him onward. His eyes caught sight of an axe that seemed to belong to Mac. The moment he threw aside the debris of the chair and reached for the axe—

    “Usher.”

    A calm voice, as usual, stopped him. As if trying to hold him back. The tone was so cold, almost reprimanding, that he couldn’t understand it.

    “Belka…?”

    He wanted to ask her why she was restraining him. The question was swallowed by his trembling, but the intent behind it must have still been conveyed. Despite this, Belka pretended not to notice. She approached from behind Usher, wrapping her arms around his trembling hands, which clutched the handle of the axe so tightly. Her cool, slender body seemed to quelch the fiery heat that had engulfed him. Even though he had just suffered such a terrible ordeal and deserved revenge, her hand — gentle as if urging him to calm down — melted the flames within him. Tempted by the urge to scream and cry out in frustration, he felt like bursting into tears.

    “Belka, please.”

    The gentle, almost begging hand that held his was the first time he felt such a desire to resist. The hand that was holding him so tenderly was the first time he wanted to push away. But he couldn’t. Instead, he dropped the axe, which he had been gripping so desperately, and sank down, sobbing uncontrollably. Belka, who was sitting beside him, wrapped her arms around him from behind and whispered.

    “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

    He wanted to ask what was okay. Why was she comforting him? The one who should be consoled was Belka, and the one who should be comforting was himself — yet she was the one doing it.

    “Hey, Belka! Belka!”

    But by then, his tears had already spilled over. All he could do was call out the girl’s name like a child. After some time had passed and his cries subsided, Usher managed to ask softly.

    “Sniff, Belka, don’t you resent that brat?”

    Seven years ago, it was Mac who had assaulted and killed Marie, who was like family to him. And to make matters worse, he had also violated Belka. Now, having learned everything, his sense of closeness to Mac had morphed into bitter betrayal — and all that remained was an all-consuming fury, a dark, fiery emotion that seemed capable of burning even the owner of the feelings.

    “…I don’t know…”

    Belka leaned against Usher, looking pained and unstable, as if it was hard even to summon the memory. His anger, which had been momentarily suppressed, flared up again, fueling his impulse to grasp the axe once more. But then,

    “No.”

    Belka pressed his hand, which was reaching for the handle of the axe, against her chest and wrapped her arms around it, as if to hold him back. As if desperately trying to suppress his fiery, dark warmth. Seeing such a pitiful, reverent girl made Usher feel like tears might burst at any moment.

    “Why?! Why are you stopping me?! That bastard made Belka suffer that way! He hurt you! So why are you holding me back?!”

    His words felt childishly petulant, like tantrums from a stubborn kid. Clinging to what couldn’t be achieved, crying, throwing a fit. Yet, despite everything, he couldn’t pull himself away from her hand, which was still enfolding his. Deep down, he was terrified of losing her — of the faint hope that if he let go now, he’d never be able to hold her again. Belka’s fragile strength felt more like an unbreakable chain than ever before.

    “Because I’m safe with you. Because if I have Usher, I can endure anything.”

    As if trying to soothe him, the girl gently cupped his cheek with her hand that was still holding his, wiping away his tears as if wiping away his pain.

    “Please, don’t hurt yourself. Just being with you like this makes me truly happy.”

    They say a woman who uses magic is called a witch. In that sense, Belka was undoubtedly a witch. Otherwise, just facing her smile alone would be enough to set fire to his heart — as if the dark heat that had been boiling inside him suddenly quieted, replaced by a gentle, tingling warmth that was almost fluffy.

    “Are you no longer in pain?”

    “Yes.”

    A little later, Belka, having regained her composure, was the first to do something: she tended to his injured wrist, which he had been busy trying to untie from the rope. Since the girl had herbs already finely ground and stored in a small vial, healing his bloodied wrist from the rough rope was quick. Although Usher had tried to stop her, suggesting they rest, he couldn’t bear to dissuade her stubbornness.

    “Next time, don’t push yourself so hard.”

    Seeing his painfully battered wrist, she looked genuinely distraught, as if she had been hurt herself. It was fortunate that he accepted her suggestion to at least put on clothes before treating him. As for Mac—

    “Hrrr.”

    He had tightly bound Mac with a rope in the hut, leaving him in a corner so he couldn’t move. He kept checking to make sure Mac couldn’t escape, feeling anxious every time Mac let out pained groans. At times, he even thought he should finish Mac once and for all with the axe, but every time he looked at Belka’s cold, submissive gaze, he had to suppress the urge. Instead, he lay down on the girl’s lap, craving affection. As he rested like that, memories of Marie flooded his mind. Like Belka now, she had been taken and lost her life after suffering at the hands of Mac.

    “Hey, Belka. Will you listen to my story?”

    “Yeah.”

    Marie — someone with that name — was truly beautiful. Her shiny blonde hair reflected sunlight perfectly. Her turquoise eyes, filled with a warm, gentle light, always looked at him with such tenderness. Because she took on various chores around the village to earn money, her hands were rough and bumpy, but he liked that, too. Even when she fussed and begged him to play during the day, he couldn’t refuse. Later, at night, she’d light a candle and carefully sew or knit, even though her hands were often sore.

    She was just about his age, but she was wise and mature beyond her years. He was proud that she was admired by adults. He loved the way her hand delicately patted his head, telling him they shared the same hair color. Every small word from her made him so happy. Walking home together, he felt joyful. Playing together, he learned how to laugh. Falling asleep beside her, he felt warmth. Though his memories were patchy because he was too young back then, he knew they’d been happy days.

    Those days — so happy it felt like a dream now — were disrupted in an instant. Her hair no longer sparkled. He eventually realized that his own hair, with its yellowish, daffodil tone, was nothing special compared to her shining blonde. Her lively, sparkling eyes dimmed, and the warmth that once focused on him disappeared.

    “…Usher, you liked that girl, huh?”

    “Yeah. Truly, truly.”

    She was the person who called him family — someone who had treated him like kin. Just remembering her warms his chest. But after that day, just recalling her brought pain and suffering — so much so that he couldn’t tell Belka. How painful must it have been? How difficult? Usher couldn’t begin to understand Marie’s feelings after being so harshly and forcibly violated by Mac. The girl gently stroked his head, offering comfort. His tender touch made tears flow down uncontrollably. He wanted to stop, but as he wiped away tears that kept falling, the faint gold of Belka’s hair beneath her lowered eyelids finally caught his eye.

    “Belka? Why are you crying?”

    Hearing the concern in her voice, he asked nervously.

    “Is… is Usher, not upset with me?”

    “What? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

    Startled, he leapt up from her lap.

    “But I…”

    The girl hesitated and pressed her lower abdomen painfully, as if suffering. At last, Usher understood why she had spoken like that. Saying she wasn’t upset would be a lie. But that wasn’t about Belka.

    “Belka.”

    “Oh.”

    He pushed her down onto the bed. Mac’s violation of Belka made him uncomfortable just being on this bed, but since there was nowhere else for her to lie, he had no choice. As he ran his fingers over the bed, the lingering sticky, damp sensation from Mac’s traces made his stomach churn. The girl lay still on his lap, her crimson hair spilling around her, gazing at him softly with innocent gold eyes. She showed no sign of resistance or fear, unaware of what was about to happen.

    Seeing her, his desire welled up. He wanted to thrust his member into her delicate opening immediately. But first, there was something he had to do. He lowered himself beneath the bed, kneeling there. The first thing he saw was her smooth thigh beneath her dark red dress. He reached out and parted her slender legs.

    “Ah?! Usher?”

    His action made Belka question, but her legs parted slowly, just as he intended. His attempt to set her up with her dress as a barrier might have been symbolic, but it was useless — he raised her dress.

    “Ugh.”

    In a hurry, he hurried to treat his wounds, so he hadn’t even put on underwear, and her intimate opening was still visible to him. Her secret gap, still visible, was now exposed, her delicate petals revealed. The white, cloudy fluid seeping from her — more than enough, considering he had just stuffed his member into her. The sight was so lewd that his suppressed desire flared anew.

    The sight ignited a faint spark he thought had been extinguished. Hot longing surged through him. He wished he could cut Mac with that axe right now, but it was impossible. She wouldn’t want that. Then, where should this uncontrollable fury and disgust direct itself? He inserted his fingers into her slit, trying to remove as much of Mac’s semen as possible.

    “Uhh?!”

    A gasp from her, and her trembling slit. His fingers stirred, and the white fluid inside her — that pure white oil — began to leak out. The amount seemed too little, and he frowned, curling his fingers to scrape from inside her.

    “Ah, ugh! Hoo.”

    This caused her slit to release more of the cloudy fluid. When his fingers withdrew, they were coated with a milky, whitish residue. Though it resembled his own semen, just the thought that it belonged to Mac made him feel disgusted. The fact that it had forcibly entered her made it even worse. He roughly wiped his fingers and pushed them back into her slit again.

    “Ahh!”

    Hearing her moan, he continued to stir and push inside her, trying to expel Mac’s semen. When no more cloudy fluid flowed out, he rose from beneath the bed and looked into Belka’s face.

    “Huh.”

    It was meant to be a simple task — removing Mac’s semen — but was that because the area was so sensitive for her? Belka’s face was stained dark, and she looked helpless. Wanting to see more clearly, he leaned down beside her and simultaneously reinserted his fingers into her slit.

    “Ahh! Usher!”

    Her voice, trembling, as she called his name with a sweet, melted tone — as if she was dissolving in pleasure. Her reaction brought a peculiar satisfaction. With her discomfort about using his index finger, he switched to his middle finger for more comfort. Exploring her tender folds, he traced down here and there.

    “Hwoah! Ahh!”

    Every time he lightly scratched or tickled her inside, as he had with the semen earlier, she twisted in discomfort, her legs clinging tightly. But from her vocal responses, it was clear she was also experiencing pleasure. She couldn’t hide her embarrassment, clutching onto his arm and moaning.

    “Huh! Ah! Hng!”

    Could Belka even make sounds like this? His face contorted with surprise, curious about her uncontrollable reactions. Then he remembered — this wasn’t the first time she showed this side. When she first learned about such acts, she had looked similar. Yes, she was scared, but she had still shown that very expression.

    “Huh?!”

    At that moment, her waist arched like a bow, as if her back was contorting from his middle finger’s pressure. When her waist returned to normal, she looked exhausted, panting heavily and gazing at him.

    “Haah.”

    Seeing her completely disheveled, Usher couldn’t hold back anymore. He removed his clothing and got on top of her. Their bodies pressed together — he could feel the soft girl’s warmth and the gentle heat through her clothes. But what struck him most was her petite frame. How could such a tiny body accommodate Mac’s enormous member? The feeling of revulsion started to swell again, and he frowned at her. Belka looked at him anxiously.

    “Huh?!”

    He attempted to erase her anxiety by placing his member inside her. Her slit was so sticky, so wet, that it swallowed him smoothly. Her slippery, delicate flesh constricted around him. Every time he pushed in and out with his hips, her body trembled and moaned.

    “Haah! Yes! Huh!”

    What caught his eye was her slender waist. Did Mac really hold her that tightly, like an object? When he placed his hand on her waist, her moan shifted into a slightly different sound, and as he reached the peak of pleasure, he poured his semen into her.

    “Ehh!”

    As soon as he emptied his load inside her, he moved his hips again.

    “Huh?!”

    His actions didn’t stop easily. Her hot, mucus-like insides, that he had become addicted to, seemed to cling to him. In the blissful pleasure, he desperately wanted to erase all traces of Mac’s assault inside her, filling her with his own semen. He couldn’t leave her body for a while — he wanted to drown in her, filling her to the brim with his essence. Eventually, his uncontrolled lust diminished quietly, and Belka leaned into him, breathing heavily, exhausted.

    “Now you’re not upset, right?”

    In the silence, it was Usher who broke the quiet first.

    “Yeah.”

    She nodded slightly at his question. As he lay with Belka, he reflected on her words — perhaps she wasn’t simply feeling discomfort at all. Maybe she wasn’t only troubled because he had hurt her — but because she herself was painfully aware of being forcibly violated by Mac. They held each other for a while longer, feeling it was no longer appropriate to linger here, and decided to leave. But there was a small problem.

    “Ugh!”

    “Belka?!”

    Belka, who had been sitting on him, suddenly stood and collapsed, prompting Usher to catch her. Just then, a faint sound of droplets falling was heard from somewhere. Looking down, he saw her trembling legs, like a newborn fawn, trembling uncontrollably, trembling like a delicate thread. But that alone couldn’t diminish her fragile beauty. Her tiny frame, too delicate, somehow suited her pitiful look.

    Yet, aside from that, beneath her dress, on the inside of her thigh, a white stream was flowing and dripping down to the floor. It was definitely semen. Just moments ago, he had stuffed his cock deep inside her and poured into her — so it was clear that the owner of that fluid was her, overflowing from a body beneath the dress. It was an utterly lewd sight, and even though he had thought his desire was suppressed, it stirred once more.

    Noticing this, Belka’s face flushed deeply. She clutched the hem of her dress tightly and pressed it down. Then she looked up at him.

    “Ugh, Usher… you’re a pervert.”

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