CHAPTER FIVE.
The Crisis?

A few days ago.

In the dark alley behind the commercial district of the kingdom ofLycius, the headquarters of the ‘Black Wings was located.

Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock.

After the rhythmic, coded knocking was heard, a small hatch attached to the wooden door opened. Through it, the light from the outside seeped in, drawing a narrow, elongated rectangle on the floor.

“Master.”

There was no answer from inside, but not expecting an answer in the first place, the visitor’s words continued without delay.

“I brought the problem.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Thump. Only the sound of the latch closing remained inside.

Cut off from the outside world, there was only darkness.

The owner of the room lay long on the sofa. Beside the sofa, the discarded navy blue robes of the novitiates, which he had thrown off as soon as he arrived in this space, were scattered haphazardly.

The man moved his body and rummaged through his pants pocket. In his movements, the muscles, tightly woven to his bare upper body, constricted and relaxed, gleaming in the moonlight that seeped through the gap of the hatch. His distinct eyebrows and bone structure, revealed beneath his silver hair, along with his cool, well-proportioned nose and the outline of well-developed muscles that adorned his well-shaped physique, stood out more prominently thanks to the dim moonlit shadows.

With a flick of his hand from his pocket, he unfolded the folded handkerchief in front of him. In the middle of the silk handkerchief, which was adorned with a lace border, a red rose was embroidered.

The embroidery was as meticulous and perfect as it’s owner’s hair color, radiating the warm light of sunset and the owner’s personality.

The man covered his nose and mouth with the hand holding the handkerchief. The scent of the perfume periodically sprayed by its owner, subtly mixed with the lingering fragrance of the woman who always carried it, and… blended with the smell of his own s*men that had been splattered on it. It had been two months since I had it, but luckily the original owner’s scent had not completely disappeared.

As the strong scent filled my nose, memories naturally followed.

‘It’s supposed to be like this, don’t you trust me?’
‘You don’t have to endure.’
‘Look at that. It doesn’t hurt anymore, right? It’s okay… right?’

Lionella’s worried face as she stroked his throbbing c*ck with her tiny hand, trying to soothe it, and then looking at him with concern to see if he was hurt.

‘Well, we should be committing a perfect crime.’
‘I told you, didn’t I? There’s nothing I won’t do for you.’

When she buried her face between my thighs to suck my p*nis, I saw the milky-white nape of her neck peeping through her vibrant red hair.

That adorable smile she had on her face without realizing she had my cum on the corner of her mouth.

And finally, that sweet face as she held my c*ck in her mouth and slowly bobbed up and down on it with her lascivious face, pretending like it didn’t hurt when it was definitely be heavy and painful.

It was definitely tantalizing.

It was only natural, since I couldn’t penetrate deep enough to be satisfied. But with each thrust of my thick-headed p*nis into that narrow passage, just the seething wave that was difficult to define as pain or pleasure in her pretty face made it seem like I had the whole world. That talk about my chronic disease was bullshit. It was natural for me to have an er*ction just thinking about her. Whether my lewdness, which she was completely unaware of, and the fact that what she offered to do it with good intentions and affection made it too obscene. Or maybe because of the situation itself, I couldn’t tell.

In my mind, I wanted to embrace that delicate body, bury her it my embrace, stain that white nape of her neck with my traces, and thrust my waist as I desired, but…

He preferred to keep it there for now. It wasn’t difficult, since c*mming while fantasizing about Lionella was something he did every day. Since it was Lionella’s first experience with a man, she inserted it with the sole purpose of making him cum, without getting excited herself, so he couldn’t let it continue.

It was a good decision. Besides, for some reason, Lionella seemed to think of him as the embodiment of purity, so it fit her beliefs.

‘When I first saw you, I knew you possessed a kind and pure soul.’

An innocent, ascetic, and noble soul, that he could never think of the idea of promiscuous f*cking, that it would be cheap and shameful, and that he couldn’t withstand the stimulation from an unexpected union of g*nitals.

‘My Lily, my lady….’

The man, Mishael, gripped the handkerchief tightly in his hand as he covered his mouth and nose. When he took a deep breath, his chest swelled, filling his nasal passages once again with the combination of Lionella’s fragrance and the fishy scent of his own desire.

Whenever he covered his nose with the handkerchief and took a breath, Mishael always imagined Lionella’s exhausted body due to their affair. The sight of her fair, delicate skin flushed like her hair from his possessive kisses and excitement alone was stimulating enough. Plus, her cute little c*nt would still be lukewarm with my cum, and she’d use them to lubricate my c*ck as I slammed it back in.

‘This is not because you can’t control your lust, it’s… a kind of chronic illness, isn’t it?’

No, Miss. You’ve got it all wrong.

I had an er*ction like that in front of you many times because of my lustful fantasies about you. And I have no intention of controlling them.

An illness… well, maybe it is an illness. Whenever I think about you, things end up like this. It’s probably natural. From the moment I saw your foolish smile on the day we first met, I couldn’t follow anyone else but you. Even if you were a praised deity from a distant realm…

You’re half right and half wrong, my arrogant and shallow young Miss…

15 years ago.

How many times had the boy been taken to a mansion. After losing his family in a disaster that his young memory couldn’t recall, his life consisted of trembling from one place to another, depending on the pockets of others. Sometimes it was a fancy mansion, but mostly it was slums, brothels, and dark alleys.

While moving from one temporary residence to another, by some stroke of luck or by some other means, he somehow found his way to Lycius, which bordered his homeland, where he crossed the border and ended up being sold as a slave in a fine mansion for the third time in a row.

The place where the new recruit arrived in exchange for his master’s gambling debts was the mansion in Parma.

The girl he met there was, well, quite amusing.

With emerald eyes that shone bright like peridot, she was incredibly enchanting. She looked just like the ceramic doll he used to play with when he was very young and lived in a large mansion…

‘You do realize that exchanging a person for money, including slavery, is a form of human trafficking and is an illegal offense under Article 27 of the Kingdom’s Criminal Law, right?’
‘So you’re saying that you brought this kid so I could have him as my own whipping boy?’

At first, it was laughable. After all, sooner or later, she would become just like her father. Mishael wondered why she acted so superior towards him and her father.

‘If you sincerely apologize for something that you didn’t actually do wrong, do you really think it’s going to make things right?’

While putting on an act of an arrogant lady, she would get startled whenever our eyes met. It was amusing, so Mishael deliberately acted more like a wretched slave. Somehow, the more pitiful he behaved, the more that seemingly refined lady seemed unable to bear it.

What on earth can I do? I came to a foreign country after losing my parents and status, going through all sorts of hardships. The only thing I can do is silently envy someone else, thinking that she could become just like me someday.

As for what I can do right now… it’s to stir up the guilt of that young lady who is acting all high and mighty like she’s different from the haughty people of Lycius.

And so, Mishael, according to the wishes of the Lycius nobles, became a pitiful, obedient whipping boy who obediently endured beatings. Easily kneeling down and pretending to be accustomed to such abuse whenever the cane struck, he acted as if enduring was his duty. It wasn’t difficult at all. Actually, it wasn’t his first time as a whipping boy in Parma.

By continuing to act so pitiful, wouldn’t that young girl, who grew up without ever knowing the hardships of life, learn the limits of her own hypocrisy?

Rather than being having your guilty conscience stir up inside of you, wouldn’t it be easier for you to treat me as your slave?

After all, you’ll end up the same as I did.

‘Sorry, Mishael… Did it hurt a lot?’
‘Let’s share this in half. I had too much tea earlier, and now I’m full.’

After saying that, the girl smiled softly, and in that moment, Mishael felt that all the swirling dark emotions in his stomach were utterly meaningless. That smile was like a splendid sunset, much like her own hair. It was so dazzling that one had to squint their eyes to look directly, like it was the sunlight. And yet, the beauty of it was so unmistakable that you couldn’t help but stare at it……

She acted like a noble young lady in front of her father, her governess, and her other servants, so why does she show such an unguarded smile in front of me?

But that doubt was short-lived, and it alone did not completely shatter the defensive mechanism that Mishael had developed to protect himself. The boy continued to observe the girl without letting go of his guard.

Whether your hypocrisy lasts longer or my hatred lasts longer, he continued his bet with the unknowing Lionella.

However, the girl was fascinating. She managed to maintain a delicate balance between seeming to do things solely for my sake and not making herself miserable.

Having traveled from place to place for years, the boy knew all too well that someone’s kindness could become poison to the other person. It was still unknown what would have happened if his family had not fallen and he had not become a wandering soul, but if it were a young noble like this girl who was only seven years old, it would be even more unpredictable…

It was strange.

If I sympathized and obeyed foolishly, she would probably treat me like a doll, but she had no special favoritism towards me. She only treated me to flavorful refreshments, claiming it was etiquette practice when no one was looking. She would leave all the leftovers for me to eat, pretend to blame me, and deliberately read a book aloud so we could study together…

As a result, Mishael was able to enjoy a prosperous life, but the girl never showed condescension.

Was it really just a coincidence that I happened to receive the young lady’s kindness due to a mere whim? Or was it because this insincere lady cherished me, whether out of pity or hypocrisy?

Because he had lived a difficult life from a young age, the boy prided himself on being observant, quick-witted, and good at understanding people, but he couldn’t figure out what this was all about. In the midst of all the confusion, and without being able to draw any conclusions, Mishael settled into Parma as if it were his own. He no longer had to worry about being sold to another house, and there were no longer any troubles from the other servants, who treated him like a rolled stone¹a proverb often used to describe a situation where a newcomer, who has recently joined a group, tries to expel or harm an old member with a pretty face. With the lady always by his side, he was accepted by everyone.