Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!

The village that morning was anything but peaceful.

Where once there had been the calm sound of vendors calling out dried fish and the soft chatter of townsfolk—now there was an excited, bustling energy echoing through the cobbled streets.

Through the great wooden gates, a steady stream of women were passing one by one, so many, in fact, that the guards had stopped even trying to count them.

Some were in their twenties, young, bright-eyed, and full of curiosity.

They walked with a bounce in their steps, some even fixing their hair or straightening their dresses as they entered. A few of them whispered to each other with giggles, excitement bubbling in their voices.

Then there were the women in their thirties, strong and confident, the look of wives and mothers who had long since learned how to keep their homes and families running.

They walked more steadily, chatting in calm, knowing tones about what the ’announcement’ might be about, though even they couldn’t hide the faint gleam of excitement in their eyes.

And among them were the older ones—women in their forties, their faces seasoned with experience and hard work, their hands calloused from years of cutting fish or throwing nets.

They didn’t chatter as much as the younger ones; they simply walked with a sense of quiet purpose, the kind that came from understanding how rare true opportunities were.

All of them—young and old, single and married, rich and poor, were making their way through the gates, toward the largest building in the center of the village.

It was an old granary, a massive structure of timber and stone, once filled to the brim with grain and sacks of food. But now, it stood empty, save for the workers preparing it earlier that morning under Cassius’s command.

Long benches had been placed in neat rows inside, with torches set along the walls, and a raised wooden platform at the far end of the hall that looked suspiciously like a stage.

And as the crowd grew, whispers began to ripple among them.

"Did you hear?" One young woman whispered to her friend, clutching the hem of her dress. "They said it’s for the Holy Guard themselves! The announcement came from the Holyfield Family!"

"Holy Guard?" Another asked incredulously. "Why would the Holy Guard need us?"

"They said it’s for some kind of special mission." Another answered excitedly. "Something about helping defeat that monster, the Leviathan!"

"Defeat the Leviathan?" A woman in her thirties gasped, eyes wide. "The same one that’s been destroying the villages?"

"Yes! That’s what they said!" First one replied, her voice almost trembling with excitement. "Apparently, they need women between twenty and fifty years old for the task. Doesn’t matter if you’re married, single, or anything else!"

Several others gasped or exchanged looks of disbelief.

A mother of three muttered under her breath. "That’s strange...Why women? Shouldn’t they be recruiting soldiers?"

Her neighbor, a plump woman in her forties, laughed and waved a hand dismissively. "Who cares? Ten silver coins for a single day’s work! Ten! That’s six months’ worth of wages!"

That got a loud murmur from the others around her.

"Six months’ worth, gods above..." Another woman whispered, clutching her chest. "I could finally fix our roof with that."

"I could pay my husband’s debts!" Someone else said eagerly.

A younger girl, no older than twenty-one, chimed in with a grin. "I could buy an entire ox herd for my father! He’ll be so proud when he hears!"

New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on 𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝗇𝖾𝗍

The crowd’s tone quickly shifted from confusion to excitement. The energy was contagious, hopeful, eager, and full of possibility.

But, of course, gossip spread just as quickly as hope.

"I wonder what the job even is." One woman murmured nervously, looking around. "They didn’t say, did they? Not even a hint."

"No." Another said, shaking her head. "But if they’re paying that much, it must be dangerous."

"Or tedious." Someone else added. "Maybe we have to stand guard all night, or carry heavy things for the soldiers?"

"I heard it’s something secret." A younger woman whispered with wide eyes. "My cousin’s husband said the Holy Guard has some kind of strange weapon, and they need women to help activate it."

A few others exchanged doubtful looks. "Activate it? What kind of weapon needs women?"

The younger woman shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know! But ten silver is ten silver!"

"Exactly!" Another agreed. "Work for one day, eat for a year, that’s a miracle if I ever saw one!"

Another added with a wry chuckle. "My husband’s been drinking the tavern dry, if this job means I can finally handle the money for once, I’ll gladly take it."

That seemed to silence the doubts.

And soon the whole crowd was murmuring with similar thoughts, voices overlapping, laughter breaking out here and there, some women looking genuinely joyful for the first time in months.

Times had been hard. The Leviathan’s attacks had devastated trade and ruined the farms along the riverbanks. Livestock were scarce, the lake was poisoned, and hunger loomed over every home.

So when a chance like this appeared, a promise of coin and salvation, wrapped up in the blessing of the Holy Guard, how could anyone refuse?

And so they came.

One by one, hundreds of women poured into the granary, each one hopeful, each one unaware of what truly awaited them inside.

Near the entrance, two guards, recruited by Cassius himself, were checking off names and ushering the women in with polite smiles.

"Welcome, welcome! Please make your way inside and take a seat." One of them called cheerfully. "You’ll be given instructions shortly!"

The women nodded, their chatter growing louder as they took their seats. The air was filled with whispers, some nervous, some excited, some downright curious.

"Do you think we’ll meet the Holy Guard himself?" One whispered, eyes wide with awe.

Another laughed. "I just hope the ’job’ doesn’t involve wrestling that monster. I’m not built for fighting!"

A third shrugged. "Who cares? Ten silvers. I’d do just about anything for ten silvers."

"Same here!" Someone else agreed with a grin. "Even if they ask me to dance on one foot for an hour!"

There was laughter at that, a ripple of amusement and bravado that carried through the crowd.

But standing at the back of the hall, hidden behind the curtains of the raised platform, Cassius watched the scene unfold with a calm, devilish smile on his lips.

He could hear every laugh, every whisper, every excited murmur.

"Perfect." He murmured under his breath, his sharp eyes gleaming in the dim light. "The bait has gathered itself."

—

Outside, the steady rhythm of footsteps continued as more women arrived through the gates, each one unknowingly stepping straight into Cassius’s grand plan.

Eventually, the rumbling murmur of the gathered women began to dull as the massive double doors of the old granary creaked shut with a heavy thud. The iron bolts slid into place, sealing the building from the outside.

Inside, the once-empty warehouse was now overflowing. There wasn’t an inch of floor left untouched by feet, skirts, or stray baskets. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and the faint must of aged timber.

The headcount had been done twice by Cassius’s guards, both times producing roughly the same result—386 women had made it inside.

And there were still more outside.

Through the tiny gaps between the wooden boards, one could glimpse lines of women stretching down the dusty road beyond the gates—those who had arrived too late. Some were pounding softly on the doors, others stood with hopeful eyes and downturned lips.

But it was no use. The warehouse could hold no more. Even the benches and chairs that had been brought in from nearby homes were already packed shoulder to shoulder, filled with women sitting as straight as they could to make space for others.

Those who couldn’t find seats stood at the back or along the walls, pressing close, fanning themselves with shawls or folded cloths as the interior heat rose.

For the unfortunate ones outside, their disappointment didn’t last long.

But at Cassius’s order, one of the guards stationed beyond the gate was handing out small leather pouches, each containing ten copper coins.

"By decree of the Holy Guard." He declared to the women lingering outside. "You are rewarded for your willingness to serve, even if you cannot enter this time!"

The moment the first pouch jingled in a woman’s hand, the despair evaporated.

"Ten copper coins!" One gasped, clutching it as though it were gold. "That’s a day’s labor on the boats!"

Another woman laughed, giddy. "And we didn’t even have to do anything!"

The crowd’s mood lifted at once. Many thanked the guards profusely, blessing the Holy Guard and calling them generous.

"They truly be noble soldiers." One older woman murmured as she walked away, smiling in disbelief. "Even when we fail to serve, they rewards us."

And so, while the disappointed ones left satisfied and chattering about the mysterious generosity of the Holy Guard—inside the warehouse, excitement was reaching its peak.

Three hundred and eighty-six women, young and old, married and unmarried, noble and peasant, sat tightly packed within the granary walls, murmuring amongst themselves.

Then the heavy sound of boots echoed through the hall.

Heads turned. Whispers hushed.

Through the crowd came Julie, Aisha, and Skadi, each of them in their light armor, their symbols of rank glinting faintly in the torchlight.

They moved gracefully through the narrow aisles between benches, speaking softly to one another, occasionally checking the sealed doors or whispering to a guard.

The women’s eyes went wide.

"It’s them." Someone breathed.

"The Holy Guard’s leaders!" Another whispered excitedly.

"Lady Julie, the whispering blade! Miss Aisha, the Witch of Earth! And the Icefang Wolf, Skadi herself!"

The crowd practically trembled.

For most of the women there, these were living legends. Figures who had only existed in stories or on tattered parchment illustrations, heroes who had faced monsters and demons that common folk could only pray never to see.

And now they were here. Walking among them.

Excitement bubbled up like a storm through the crowd. Whisper after whisper filled the air, admiration, awe, disbelief.

"They’re so beautiful up close..."

"My daughter talks about Saint Julie every day, she’ll never believe this!"

"Skadi’s taller than I imagined!"

"Should we...should we ask for autographs?"

A small cluster of younger girls giggled behind their hands, daring each other to approach. A few older women clutched their shawls nervously, whispering prayers under their breath as though they were in the presence of angels.

Julie, noticing the nervous stares, smiled warmly at them as she passed. That simple gesture sent a wave of whispers and squeals through the hall.

One woman, trembling slightly, couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She was in her late thirties, her hands rough and scarred from years of weaving nets.

Clutching a folded piece of cloth in both hands, she hurried forward timidly, calling out.

"M-Milady! Please wait!"

Julie paused mid-step and turned toward her, curious. "Yes?" She asked kindly.

The woman froze, nearly dropping the cloth.

"I, uh, I don’t want to bother you, my lady, but...my daughter, she...she adores you. She calls you her hero." She swallowed nervously, eyes flickering down. "I was wondering if you...if you could maybe...sign this for her? It’s just an old quilt, but it’s the only cloth we have that could hold ink."

A ripple of soft laughter and gasps went through the women nearby. No one had expected her to be so bold.

Julie blinked in surprise, then smiled softly. "Of course."

The woman’s eyes filled with tears. "R-Really?"

Julie nodded. "What’s her name?"

The question caught the poor woman off guard. "Oh! It’s...It’s Doris!" She stammered.

Julie knelt slightly, steadying the scrap of fabric on her palm as she carefully wrote ’To Doris, with love, Julie Hellbane’ in looping, elegant strokes.

She handed it back with a warm smile. "Tell her to stay strong, and keep helping her mother. The world needs good hearts like hers."

The woman clasped the cloth to her chest, eyes glistening. "Thank you, my lady. Thank you! She’ll treasure this forever!"

That moment, so simple, so human, spread like wildfire.

The rest of the crowd began to murmur again, but this time it wasn’t anxious. It was admiring. The fear of the unknown job, the nervousness about being locked inside, all of it melted away as they saw how kind and approachable the so-called Holy Guard’s champions were.

"See? They’re not arrogant at all!" One whispered.

"They’re so kind...I thought nobles would be cold."

"They’re real women, just like us!"

And before long, the trio found themselves surrounded.

Aisha laughed softly as a group of teenage girls crowded around her, asking about magic, about her staff, about how she learned her spells. She answered each question with good humor, making small sparks of light dance between her fingertips, earning delighted gasps.

Skadi knelt to let two younger girls touch her wolf ears and when she ruffled their hair, they squealed in delight.

Julie, meanwhile, fielded question after question from the older women about her training, her armor, her sword, her patience endless, her voice gentle.

The room, once anxious and tense, now brimmed with warmth and laughter.

Cassius’s plan to ease them was working perfectly.

But of course, not every woman’s curiosity could be satisfied with small talk.

Eventually, one of them, a middle-aged woman, cleared her throat nervously and spoke up from one of the front benches.

"Um...pardon me, Lady Julie." She began, her voice hesitant. "We’re very honored to be here, truly, but...may I ask...what exactly is this job we’ve been called for?"

A few others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

"Yes...we were told it’s something to do with defeating the Leviathan..."

"...and yet we’re all just sitting in a warehouse." Another added. "No soldiers, no tools...just us."

The room fell quiet again. Every gaze turned toward Julie.

Julie hesitated for a brief moment, then gave them a reassuring smile.

"I understand your concern." She said calmly. "And I promise, you will all be told everything, soon. But I’m afraid I can’t speak on it just yet."

A few women exchanged uncertain glances.

"Can’t speak on it?" One repeated. "Why not?"

Julie shook her head lightly. "Because I’ve been instructed not to. The full details will be explained shortly."

Her words carried weight. They weren’t spoken like a mere messenger. It was clear from her tone that she wasn’t the one in charge of this operation.

That realization passed like a spark through the crowd.

The women began whispering among themselves again.

"Instructed?" One murmured. "By whom?"

"Who could command someone like her?" Another whispered, awestruck.

"If someone can give orders to the Holy Guard’s champions..." A third said slowly, voice trembling with awe. "...then they must be a high general...or even a divine envoy."

Their imaginations began to run wild.

Whoever this mysterious figure was, he had to be powerful. Beyond powerful. To gather hundreds of women, to command saints, and to offer rewards so generous it defied logic...

It could only be someone powerful.

Someone holy.

And as they waited, the hum of whispers filled the granary once more, wondering, speculating, and trembling with anticipation to finally meet the person behind the mystery.

The person they believed to be their savior who will save them from the plight of the Leviathan—not realising that they had been lures into a trap set by Cassius to make them produce and collect enough ’bait’ for the necessary mission.