Lewd King's Bucket List

Nearly every crack in the stone was there, nearly every torch was in the correct position. Whoever's memory this was…

'They not only have an excellent memory, but they've been to the dungeon.'

Though, was their trip below as an overseer or a prisoner?

Seeing as this memory was conjured by Despair, who could only draw upon the most harrowing memories, it was most likely the latter. Yet, there was still the possibility of the former.

'But what prisoner would be so intimate with the palace?!'

Nearly every detail was correct, even outside of the prison.

As the thrall passed the first few levels of the dungeon, where minor offenders were held, heading for the lowest level, Ixion felt he might get the answer soon. The dungeon was probably where the poor lad was being held.

But also…

'What is Despair doing down here?'

Assuming the thrall was leading him to the real Despair.

Guarding the crux of the memory seemed redundant because nobody could enter without his express permission.

'Except me, it turns out.'

The thrall finally stepped onto the weathered stone of the lowest floor and pried open the heavy iron door.

In front of the thrall was a long pathway with iron-barred prisons on either side, each enchanted with an Aether suppressor. Then, there was a single cell at the far end of the hall with its door wide open, two thralls standing on either side of it.

And through the entrance, Ixion spotted a familiar back. Despair's back.

The thrall stepped forward, marching toward its master who cast a glare back at it. Since Despair held control over their minds, he'd also known what this thrall was doing all along.

Ixion was quite curious if Despair had him figured out.

But other than that…

'Come on, dumbass! Look side to side!'

The thrall continued marching forward, never bothering to swivel his head and gaze at whatever prisoners were chained in the cells.

Ixion was able to catch a peripheral glimpse of them, but that was all.

From what he could tell, none of these people were copies. All of their souls felt hollow, but real. They were not shells. Sadly, unlike Despair and Hope, most didn't have distinct souls, so he wasn't able to identify all of the prisoners.

However, there was one familiar soul which stood out…

'Drath Artoris…'

In the cell closest to the one at the end of the hall, Ixion sensed that man there, alive.

And, based on what he already knew…

'This is his memory.'

It made sense. Almost too much sense.

How else would such a man and his entire family disappear without a trace if not by being abducted into the memory world?

Not to mention the memory that manifested…

'It's that day.'

The day Despair declared he was leaving.

Coincidentally, that was also the day Artoris disappeared. And if the copy of Despair in this world wasn't a reflection of the noble ideal surrounding him, it was obvious what happened.

'Drath figured out something about Despair, and in that truth, his mind fell into a muddled, hollow mess.'

And it was as Drath was dealing with this realization that Despair pulled him into this world.

'He only gets more deplorable by the day…'

Then, after eternally imprisoning him, Despair somehow took his body out, but not him. He separated Drath from his essence. Then, he mutilated Drath's body, rendering his flesh in that atrocious state, and hid him in some random house.

In other words…

Even if Drath found a way to escape, he'd instantly die the moment he left the Memory Realm due to the state of his mortal vessel. However, since his essence was alive inside the realm, his body persisted even in that horrific state.

Like some suspended animation, waiting to die.

A sentiment that probably held true for all the other inhabitants of Despair's slaughter houses.

'How awful…'

That was really the only way to describe it. Not even Ixion could joke about something so horrific.

Nor did Ixion dare to risk suffering in such a state, which only made him more inclined to ride this one out in the thrall's body.

Finally, the thrall reached the end of the hall. It was then that Despair turned around and faced him.

'Ergh! I hate being this close to him.'

Despair, the real one, didn't even care to glance at him as he sauntered by the thrall and ordered:

"Keep watch over her."

'Phew!'

It was Despair who'd called the thrall here. What a relief!

'And what luck!'

As if such a thing as luck existed in Ixion's world…

Despair slammed the iron door shut, leaving the thrall in the cell with the lone prisoner.

'...'

Standing with his back to the closed door, all the thrall did was gaze upon the chained woman before him.

'...Dia.'

Her arms were bound by kyanite, the metal which possessed Aether-absorbing qualities. Each wrist was clamped to the wall, stretching out her arms. She wore only dirty rags around her body which served to cover her bust and lower half.

She was on her knees, her ankles chained to the floor, forcing this position.

Scars littered her body.

Lash marks from a whip.

She breathed heavy sighs, a few fresh cuts on her stomach and shoulders.

With blood dripping down her body, she picked up her head and met the thrall's hollow gaze.

"Bastard…"

Yet, it was clear she wasn't looking at the thrall. No.

She was looking at the man watching her through the thrall's eyes. She was looking at Despair.

Ixion was appalled.

From what he knew…

'Despair! She's your fucking daughter!'

Ixion wished he could save her. Or to at least unchain her.

But just like Dia, Ixion had his own chains.

They may not have been metal, nor clamped around his ankles and wrists. But they were just as fixed and solid as the ones binding Dia, if not more so.

All Ixion could do was watch the blood trail down her body as she breathed heavily and stared defiantly into his eyes.

As he did, he wondered:

'How did she manage to escape the first time?'