Chapter 157

Claire van Sigmilus.

The face of the Third Prince’s faction and a pawn of the witch Isabella, she has been a villainess who ruined the lives of countless women.

In the end, it seems she was just a disposable card to Isabella.

I looked down at Claire, who was on the verge of death, and pondered her fate for a moment.

She might have had a tragic past worth whining about, but that didn’t mean she deserved forgiveness.

Her desperate struggle earlier proved she was of no use alive.

I didn’t know what she had done, but her last words gave me a rough idea.

She must have set something up at the Sigmilus mansion.

“Whatever it is, it seems like she pulled off something big. Still planning to keep her alive?”

“Yes. I plan to keep her alive.”

Ophelia, answering firmly, knelt down and looked at Claire.

“…Rather than giving it to me, you’d destroy it? Hehe… Sister, you really don’t know anything. What I wanted is already in my hands.”

Ophelia opened a vial and poured a purple liquid into Claire’s mouth.

Since an unconscious person can’t swallow, it just spilled out.

“What’s that? I thought it was poison, but was it a healing potion?”

“An antidote and a healing potion. Mixed with another poison. But she can’t drink it… Guess there’s no choice.”

Ophelia shrugged and brought the vial to her own lips.

The remaining liquid flowed into her mouth.

Wait, hold on. What’s this…?

“No, you don’t have to—”

Before I could finish, lips met lips.

A *smack* sound.

Ophelia’s tongue forced its way between Claire’s lips.

The healing potion, mixed with her sister’s saliva, seeped into Claire’s open mouth.

Ophelia held Claire’s head, persistently mixing her tongue until Claire swallowed the liquid.

No, even after Claire’s throat moved, she didn’t pull away, still savoring her sister’s lips.

It was like a mother bird feeding her chick.

Except a hundred times more obscene.

The squelching sounds, the heated breaths.

The crimson flesh, soaked in desire, left its mark inside Claire’s mouth.

Tongues tangled stickily.

A scarlet liquid, mixed with blood and saliva, stained the intertwined flesh.

“What… are you doing…?”

My words didn’t seem to reach her as Ophelia was solely focused on toying with her sister’s mouth.

So lewd that even I, watching, felt my face turn red.

Ophelia bit Claire’s lip, tearing it, and licked the flowing blood with a mesmerized gaze.

She coiled her tongue around Claire’s limp tongue, sucking and biting, then rubbed their lips together.

“Haah… Haaah…!”

Finally, Ophelia lifted her face, breathing heavily.

A thin thread of saliva stretched between their lips.

Her eyes, half-lidded with excitement and lust. Her cheeks, flushed red as if about to burst.

Her smiling mouth was smeared with Claire’s blood.

I stared at her in disbelief.

No, this crazy, this wasn’t in the original story.

The girl who was romancing Damien, what is she doing with her own sister now?

It didn’t end with just one time.

Ophelia gathered more saliva and poured it into Claire’s mouth, then kissed her again, fiercely tangling their tongues.

She supported Claire’s upper body with her burned arm while lewdly groping her chest with the other.

Claire, limp, twitched weakly.

Swallowing her sister’s lust-filled saliva.

“No. Hey, wait, you crazy bitch. This isn’t the time for this.”

Seeing Ophelia so engrossed in violating Claire’s mouth, curses spilled out of me.

The reed fields around us were burning fiercely, and who knows what’s happening to the mansion. How long does she plan to keep this up?

To make matters worse, it seemed like someone had noticed the flames. The sound of murmuring and horse hooves was approaching from afar.

There’s no village around here. So, are they soldiers sent by Isabella?

“Haah… It was just getting good.”

Ophelia sighed regretfully and picked up Claire, holding her like the Pieta.

Though she looked more like an incarnation of lust than a saint.

How did she hide this depravity all this time?

“Good or not, you crazy bitch. Was this your reason for saving Claire? Unbelievable. People are coming, what do we do now?”

“We’ll slip away. There are plenty of horses to ride.”

Ophelia headed toward the carriages.

The horses tied to the posts were restless, startled by the raging flames.

—

“Do you know who’s coming?”

Ophelia, holding Claire’s body tied with ropes, mounted a horse and pulled up her robe’s hood.

Let’s see… The heavy sound of horse hooves, clanking metal. The stench of iron and blood.

Given the chaotic surroundings, I couldn’t be sure of their numbers, but I had a rough idea.

“…Knights, it seems. Heavily armed ones at that.”

“Knights? Patrol knights wouldn’t find us this quickly. Did the Empress send them…? Or did Sister…?”

“Are these the guys they prepared…? So, can we break through?”

“Well, no problem at all.”

Breakthrough? If we take some time, annihilation is possible too.

I didn’t really want to do that, though.

If they’re not knights sent by Isabella, then they’re just innocent folks who rushed to put out a sudden fire.

Guess we’ll find out when we meet them.

I put on a robe and picked up a longsword lying on the ground.

Durandal would be too conspicuous.

“Then, take care until the end. I’m about to run out of magic.”

“Run out? Are you going to put out the fire or something?”

Well, to extinguish a fire of this scale, you’d need to expend quite a bit of magic.

“Put out the fire? No way. Quite the opposite.”

Ophelia grinned and converted all her magic into flames.

A wave of fire surged.

The flames that had been flickering through the reed field swelled in an instant, sweeping across dozens of meters.

It was like a piece of the sun had been torn off and thrown down.

“No, what is this…?”

“Just in case, we need to erase the evidence. With this much firepower, even the bodies won’t remain, right? Let’s go. We need to move together until we’re near the capital.”

Ophelia pulled on the reins.

Like an arsonist who had started a massive fire visible for kilometers, she smiled refreshingly.

A terrorist who burned down a village once smiled like that.

I don’t know. Let it be as it will.

They’ll figure out how to put out the fire.

I carefully nudged the horse’s side.

You could call it spurring. I had to be careful with the force.

If I kicked it like other riders, the horse wouldn’t run but would collapse with a burst belly.

The startled horse began to gallop.

Pulling the hood down deeply, I rode towards Ophelia.

—

The knights rushing towards us were, as Ophelia expected, Isabella’s subordinates.

How did I know? Simple.

They didn’t even ask who we were; they just pointed their lances and charged.

The black iron armor gleamed heavily.

They must have been seasoned warriors, as their charging momentum was quite fierce.

“If we get caught here, it’ll be troublesome…!”

“Don’t worry, just keep running!”

Two cavalrymen.

I threw the longsword I was holding towards one of them.

A flash of light shot towards the knight’s neck like a bullet.

The charging black iron knight raised his shield. A textbook response.

The thrown sword was just ordinary steel, so it couldn’t penetrate the black iron shield.

But it was a miscalculation.

– Kwaaaang!

I didn’t intend to pierce it anyway.

The black iron knight who blocked the sword was sent flying backward as if hit by a truck.

A natural result.

The speed of the horse, my strength, and the knight’s own charging speed all combined into that impact.

No way he could withstand that with just a shield.

The sword, crushed from tip to hilt, rolled on the ground like a stomped soda can.

The other knight’s lance charged towards my chest.

A lance charge imbued with a master’s strength.

Like my throw, it wasn’t an attack to be blocked barehanded.

So, I dodged.

Drawing Durandal, I grabbed the reins and spurred the saddle, lifting myself into the air.

I didn’t jump too high. My horse would just die from the shock.

Flipping like an acrobat, I looked down from above.

The lance, having lost its target, pierced through empty air.

Watching the blade pass by my inverted hair, I swung Durandal lightly.

The knight’s head was effortlessly severed.

Our eyes met.

I smirked at the upside-down face and sat back on the horse.

The headless knight spurted blood like a fountain and collapsed sideways.

His foot caught in the stirrup, he was dragged along the ground, leaving a long trail of blood.

That one’s done, and the other one…

I quickly scanned the surroundings.

The black iron knight who was hit by the throw.

The impact of the fall seemed severe; he was still staggering, barely getting up.

He had dropped his lance and shield.

I turned the reins and charged towards him.

Before he could draw his sword, Durandal ended his life.

“…Impressive horsemanship.”

“For the Ka`har, this is basic. Even a child could do it.”

I joked to the admiring Ophelia and rode towards the capital again.