Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Despite the commotion, Argen’s eyelids didn’t twitch. She was deeply asleep, as though she were cradled in clouds. Her body was covered with love marks, but her face was the worst.

Valen pressed his palm to his temple, overwhelmed by a feeling of deep disbelief. The atrocities of the past flashed through his mind like a series of images, and a soft groan escaped his lips. Regret followed, as it naturally would.

“I’ve been drugged more times than I can count…”

Wherever he went, there were always those who sought to harm him—his life, his body. There were countless instances at banquets when his food had been laced with poison, and he had eaten it, fully aware. A desire, sharp and suffocating, simmered just below his stomach, but even in his intoxicated state, he had never once spent the night with anyone.

But yesterday, he had lost control.

Valen’s status, his circumstances, his goals, his relationship with Argen… all of the constraints that usually held him back seemed to melt away when it came to her. Completely, without leaving a trace.

The consequences of losing his reason were grim. Even though Argen was a demon, hadn’t he acted impulsively, without thinking? He could tell that, if no one had woken her, she might have slept for an entire week.

The other regret, aside from his overpowering desire, was this:

“Why didn’t I suspect…?”

It was the fact that he had mindlessly accepted the drink from the demon.

Was that all? He swallowed hard, a sense of futility sinking in. All the effort he had put into trying to defeat demons now felt pointless. How foolish he had been to give everything for creatures so backward. The emptiness and defeat he felt were too much to bear without the help of alcohol.

But still, he was deep in enemy territory. Even though he was always cautious about the drinks offered by human nobles, why had he been so careless here?

“Three months. ”

In just three months, the Demon King’s castle had become strangely familiar.

“Mhmm…”

Argen stirred in the large bathtub, her body half-submerged in water. Streams of water poured down from multiple directions, lapping at chest.

Valen removed his robe and stepped into the bath, settling beside her. He gently leaned her back against his chest and carefully began to clean the liquid from between her legs. Each time his fingers brushed against her sensitive core, she shuddered slightly.

He felt his face grow hot, and swallowed, trying to steady his breath and suppress his feelings.

What are you doing? After everything, you still want more?

One arm wrapped around Argen’s waist, while the other rested on the edge of the tub. He breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling. Was it right to still desire more, after everything that had happened? He waited for his body to calm down before continuing. For a long, long time.

  *

“Lady Argen! Please don’t walk!”

Finn sat down in front of Lady Argen, turning his back to her. He patted his lower back and, with a casual gesture, offered himself as a demon’s carriage. Lady Argen almost automatically tried to climb onto his back but stopped herself, hesitating. She glanced at Valen, standing beside her, and then shook her head.

Valen raised his eyebrows, surprised. She was actually concerned about something he had said while in a frenzy.

“I’m fine.”

“What? Lady Argen, the way you’re looking right now… Ugh, anyway, that’s not happening. If you insist on walking, you won’t get even one step forward!”

At that, Finn spread his arms and stepped in front of Lady Argen, blocking her path. Argen rolled her eyes in embarrassment.

“Well, that worked out.”

A bored voice intervened between them. It was Valen.

“Don’t make him come to you, just come here yourselves.”

There were plenty of empty rooms. All of the rooms around Argen’s bedroom were unoccupied. The demon race was small in number, and the Demon King’s castle was far more grand and spacious than any human kingdom’s palace. Naturally, it had countless unused rooms, as those in charge of it weren’t exactly efficient at utilizing all the space.

Valen grabbed any random door and opened it, sending dust flying into the air.

“Sh!~it. Seriously.”

He turned sharply, and the servants standing behind him flinched, quickly averting their eyes.

“Do you guys have any backbone?”

  *

An great cleaning of the Demon King’s Castle had begun.

Servants, who had been idly passing time somewhere, hurriedly gathered to tidy up the empty rooms around the bedroom. Under Valen’s supervision, they swept, wiped, and tore down the old curtains.

Finn, who had been grumbling about the pointless task, fell silent as he watched the once-abandoned rooms transform into usable spaces.

Meanwhile, Argen had fallen into a deep sleep.

Like a newly hatched bird, she nodded off, then naturally burrowed into the blankets. A breeze carrying the sunlight from outside the open window softly caressed her silver hair.

Valen, who had been assigning tasks to the servants, entered the bedroom. A sigh of disbelief escaped his lips as he saw that she was still asleep, despite having slept through the whole day.

“She’s not going to wake up, huh? Twenty hours, not just fourteen.”

Valen paced around for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. Even though he tried not to look, his eyes kept wandering back to her. Her long neck was marked with bruises from where he had left his mark. Wounds from sharp objects healed quickly, but bruises took much longer to fade.

Her face, already provocative enough to stir unwanted thoughts, was now covered in marks, making it seem even more er0t!`ic.

“…A succubus.”

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. He had heard that succubi left marks on their stomachs when they absorbed energy.

What about Argen? He couldn’t remember ever noticing such marks while they were together. The first time he was assaulted, she had been dressed in a gown, and even after that, they hadn’t been fully undressed. The first time he’d lost control, just two days ago, had been after drinking the demon’s liquor.

Valen frowned, trying to recall. He remembered her soft stomach, but he didn’t know if there had been any marks. He had been consumed by the impulse to possess her, and there wasn’t time to pay attention to such things.

“…”

He looked down at Argen, breathing slowly in her sleep. Gently, he lifted the blanket and pulled up her clothes. Her skin was mottled with marks, but there was no sign of the kind of mark he was thinking of. Was it something that only appeared when his seed was released?

Just as he was pondering, the door suddenly burst open.

“The task you commanded has been…”

The servant stopped mid-sentence, frozen in shock. His face contorted, and then his expression twisted, as though he had seen something blasphemous.

“It’s a misunderstanding.”

Valen said calmly, but the servant looked at him, doubtful. It was understandable, given the sight before them. They had barely let Argen leave the bed in over a day, and rumors were already circulating that humans were strange lu-st-driven creatures.

The servant bowed his head, his face still twisted with unease, and left, closing the door behind him with a loud thud.

Immediately, a commotion could be heard outside.

“Pervert,” “His mind is full of s3m#n,” “He’s got l#st in his eyes,” and various other insults floated through the air. Valen felt wronged, but at the same time, he couldn’t easily argue against their words.

“…”

He silently adjusted her clothes before leaving the room.

  *

When he was very young.

This was before Valen’s parents were killed by demons.

Though he was technically a noble with a fief, his life was no different from that of a poor commoner. The family’s only source of income came from collecting tolls, much like the street thugs who extorted passersby.

The Rudwick family’s land lay between plains and mountainous areas. They used this geographical advantage to collect tolls from traders and travelers passing through, barely making enough to survive. This income, in particular, was vital for paying the high cost of medicine for Leto, who had been born with an incurable disease.

It was when Valen turned ten that he started collecting the tolls in place of his grandfather. One day, an old woman with a hunched back approached, carrying a heavy bundle.

The sun was about to set.

Valen rushed up to her and took the bundle from her.

“Five Lopes.”

He quickly held out his small hand, but the old woman didn’t even pretend to reach for her purse. Instead, she folded her wrinkled face into a smile. Valen’s own face, however, twisted in frustration.

“You can’t pass without paying the toll.”

The fee was a pittance—barely enough to buy a piece of cheap bread.

“The village next door is asking for 3,000 Lopes. You’re too modest.”

“What? Those d#1mn crooks.”

Though they were in the same line of work, Valen exhaled in anger, as if facing some great injustice.

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