Chapter 116 Incestuous Family (Slightly NSFW)
Chapter 116 Incestuous Family (Slightly NSFW)
“Come on, move faster, you worthless beasts! Or do you want to become feed for the lake?”
An executioner cracked his whip across the chained demi-humans, forcing them to drag the massive carriage like draft animals.
The crimson sun finally sank below the jagged peaks, plunging the valley into shadow.
The small army wound its way along the trail—a column of mounted warriors, archers, mages, and foot soldiers. Their march pulsed with eerie music and the haunting voice of the black-haired singer. Dancers swayed in rhythm on raised platforms, their movements both graceful and unsettling.
At the center, sprawled on his throne-like carriage, lounged the blond man—handsome, bare-chested, eyes glinting with madness. A naked woman bounced on his lap, her soft whimpers lost in his guttural grunts.
“Faster, bitch. Tighten up that pussy,” he snarled, slapping her flesh. Moments later, he shoved her aside with contempt. “Stop. You don’t know shit. I’m bored.”
The woman collapsed to her knees, tears streaking her cheeks. Hands clasped, she begged:
“I’m sorry, Master, please—I’ll do better! Don’t cast me away, please!”
He tapped her cheek twice, almost playfully.
“Scoot out. You’re finished.”
His voice rang out: “Laila—come here.”
The tall, black-haired singer stopped mid-note. For a split second, her face twisted with contempt—but it vanished as quickly as it came. She leapt gracefully from the platform, her long black dress flaring, landing so lightly it was almost soundless. With a silent wave of her hand, she approached the blond man.
“Yes, my lord,” she said, her face devoid of emotion.
He patted his lap. “Show this girl how it’s done.”
With fluid, deliberate movements, Laila opened her legs and straddled him. She began to ride him in a slow, controlled rhythm, her body swaying with practiced ease. Her voice returned—softer now, low and melodic—threading through the crack of drums and the groans of chains.
The rejected girl sobbed quietly, lowering her head to the floor. Each frantic bow drove her forehead harder against the boards—thud, thud, thud—the dull impacts blending with the wet, rhythmic slaps echoing from the throne.
Inside the crimson prison, Iryoku glared through the haze. He couldn’t move, couldn’t turn his head; even sound reached him faintly, muffled as if underwater. His body was locked in stone-like paralysis. All he could do was watch—helpless—as the grotesque parade unfolded before his eyes.
I need to go back. He strained against his bindings, rage and frustration burning hotter with every breath. Girls… please, be safe. Please escape. Panic flared, but he forced himself to focus. Where are they taking me?
He could sense the other captive nearby, trapped in the same living prison.
Hours dragged on as the warband pressed forward through twisting mountain paths and jagged canyons. At last, the terrain opened. Before them stretched a vast lake, shimmering beneath the light of torches.
The army advanced onto a wide bridge spanning the waters. Then, a shadow stirred. Iryoku’s eyes widened as one of the naked women serving the blond man was thrown into the lake. She surfaced, crying, thrashing desperately as she tried to swim back toward the bridge.
Suddenly, the water exploded. A gaping maw lined with serrated teeth surged upward—and the girl vanished in a bloom of blood.
Iryoku trembled within the prison. Horror burned through him.
I need information. He forced himself to steady his breath. Slowly, he extended his senses, closing his eyes. He focused inward—his heartbeat, his lungs, the pulse of blood flowing through his veins. Then outward—detecting faint vibrations against the sphere: footsteps, the creak of carriages, the rattle of armor, whispers of voices, even the eerie singing of the black-haired woman.
Close by, he caught fragments of a conversation between two men.
“Damn, that girl was really pretty… such a waste, feeding her to the lake. Wasn’t she one of the new virgins Lord Alexander gave to Lord Magnus?” one muttered.
“Shhh, don’t say that! If Lord Magnus hears you, we’re dead,” the other hissed.
Shit. Iryoku cursed inwardly. It’s true… they’re taking us to that bastard. The Death Tree. Fuck me sideways.
He opened his eyes, staring at the dark waters until the bridge ended. Beyond stretched fertile plains, vast fields of crops rolling across the land.
Even at this late hour, countless demi-humans—men, women, even children—were forced to pick the crops, their movements sluggish with exhaustion. Rough warriors, whips in hand, stood over them, supervising every motion.
Then, a deep bell tolled in the distance.
One of the warriors barked, “Time to rest, animals—back to your cages!”
The demi-humans shuffled toward a massive building, herded inside.
Iryoku’s group pressed on until they reached a looming wall. The structure was dark, built in a strange, unsettling style.
After passing through, he found rows of houses laid neatly along well-maintained stone streets. The group advanced deeper, and soon Iryoku caught sight of a grand castle-like structure. Its architecture was gothic, adorned with intricate carvings, banners of the Death Tree sigil fluttering in the night air.
He noticed warriors splitting off in all directions, but the throne carriage, the pulsing flesh prison, and the women on the platforms were ushered elsewhere—toward a fortress built directly into the side of a mountain, like some massive mine.
Suddenly, the group halted.
Iryoku tensed, every muscle ready for whatever was next.
Muffled voices drifted from ahead. “What do you want…?” He couldn’t see who spoke, but the tension sharpened.
Then his expression hardened into a frown.
Magnus—the blond man—emerged, flanked by two women. One was Laila, tall and black-haired, her beauty radiant like a singer stepping onto a stage. The other was new: a shorter woman with cropped brown hair and scars etched across her face. Despite them, she carried an undeniable allure. Leather armor clung tightly to her frame as she moved with a predator’s confidence.
She smirked, leaning close to the pulsing orb of flesh that held him. “Eh? So this is the killer everyone whispers about?” Her grin soured into disgust. “Tch. Not my type.”
Iryoku glared back, unflinching.
Magnus held Laila against him, his arm coiled around her. His hand slid lower, playing with her naked womanhood as he spoke.
“Big sister Vadia, I don’t give a damn about your types. This bastard killed big brother Max. He’ll face Father’s wrath. Speaking of which—where is he?”
“Oh, the old fart went south, chasing after this guy. Said he got some leads… and that he wanted to ‘have words’ with the stupid king too.” Vadia’s tone was flippant, but her eyes glinted as she circled the prison. Then her face lit with hunger. “Hey, Magnus—who’s this one?”
Her gaze locked on Mr. K, frozen inside the crimson haze. Her tongue wet her lips. “Little brother… give him to me. He’s my type. So pretty, so delicate. He screams to be dominated.”
Magnus scowled. “Whatever. I don’t even know who he is. But you know Father doesn’t like you fucking with demi-humans.”
“Ha!” Vadia barked, saliva stringing down her chin as she laughed. “That old bastard can suck my pussy. Actually… now that I think about it, he hasn’t been to my room in a while.” Her eyes gleamed with filthy delight. She leaned closer, whispering with perverse nostalgia. “But you know he can’t resist me when I strip bare in front of him. Even at his age, he still bends me over like the old days… uses every hole. Heheheh. After that, he always does what I want.”
She pressed herself against Magnus, her hand sliding down to rub his cock through his trousers. “So what do you say, little Magny? Why don’t you, me, Laila, and this pretty man here have ourselves a foursome?”
Magnus snorted, dismissive. “Tch. You know I don’t like men involved when I’m fucking. If you’re that desperate, let’s go to my room—and bring a couple of your servant girls.”
Vadia pouted, her lips curling. “Eh, but I want the pretty boy too…”
“Anyway.” Magnus gestured lazily toward the fleshy sphere. “I just sealed them in the orb. It’ll take a couple of days before they’re released.”
He raised a hand, signaling a nearby executioner. “Put them in a cell.”
The carriage creaked forward, dragging Iryoku and Mr. K into the fortress cavern. Darkness swallowed them whole as he strained to catch the siblings’ vile words.
“Then what else has that research on demons uncovered—the one Father’s man found…?”
The voices faded as the orb was dragged deeper into the mountain’s depths.