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Chapter 22

  1. Home
  2. From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid
  3. Chapter 22
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This work contains scenes of sadistic coercion and hardcore depictions of BDSM. Reader discretion is advised.

He raised his hand toward the woman who knelt quietly beneath him. Arzeletta’s eyes widened for a moment before shutting tight.

‘Again.’

Keeping her eyes closed, she braced herself for the pain she knew was coming.

But even after more than enough time had passed, the expected blow never came.

Arzeletta opened the eyes she had squeezed shut—and gasped.

It wasn’t her who had been struck. The man with the bulging pants now lay sprawled on the floor. Wiping blood from his split lip, he jerked his head up and growled, “S**t, which bastard…!”

He looked ready to draw his knife, but when he saw who had punched him, the words died in his throat.

Even in the dim bunker, the blazing red hair was unmistakable. It was Exion.

Casually rolling his wrist, still clenched into a fist, Exion looked down at the man slumped on the floor without a flicker of emotion.

“Did it hurt?”

“…Of course it did,” the man muttered.

“Then why were you about to throw a punch?” Exion’s voice was calm but cutting. “If your d**k’s hard and you’re embarrassed about it, just crawl out quietly. Yeah?”

“Ah, Captain, I… that is…”

The man grumbled in discontent.

Arzeletta kept her head down, her gaze fixed on Exion’s military boots. Faint traces of blood were still visible.

“She’s my guest. Get lost.”

“Your guest, sir?”

At those words, Arzeletta’s eyes widened. But she didn’t dare raise her head.

“Isn’t that right?”

So when he asked, Arzeletta didn’t immediately realize the question was directed at her.

Exion, who had been quietly watching the silent, doll-like Arzeletta with her head bowed, suddenly spat on the floor.

“……!”

When his boot suddenly came up beneath her chin, Arzeletta flinched and looked up in surprise. His boot, stained with dirt, blood, and all sorts of filth, forced her chin upward.

In the dim light, her eyes met Exion’s. He didn’t look pleased.

“Answer me. Isn’t that right?”

Only then did Arzeletta nod.

Exion lightly shoved her face with his foot, knocking her over. His boot then returned to the ground.

Only then did the soldiers’ expressions—previously filled with confusion at the word guest—ease with understanding. It was the familiar sight of their captain treating something lowly as it deserved.

They had lost their turn at amusement, but as long as Arzeletta continued to loiter around the village, there would be other chances. Chuckling mischievously, the soldiers patted Exion’s shoulder and dispersed.

Even the soldier who had taken a punch did the same. Spitting bloody phlegm onto the floor, he cast a revolting smile toward Arzeletta.

“See you around, pretty.”

With a whistle, he disappeared, and the bunker returned to its loud and rowdy atmosphere—as if nothing had happened.

“Get up.”

Arzeletta, still lying where she’d been tossed on the floor, looked up at Exion. He didn’t offer her a hand.

…Of course, she hadn’t expected him to. No one ever offered her that kind of kindness. Especially not in front of this many eyes.

As expected.

The gentleness she had felt by the lake must’ve been nothing more than a fleeting mood. Arzeletta swept away the confusion.

She rose to her feet and followed Exion, who signaled her with a jerk of his chin. Through the tattered rags hanging from her body, her bruises were clearly visible.

Her black hair slid over her frail body as she moved. Exion suppressed another flare of anger and strode quickly out of the bunker.

Arzeletta hurried after him, as if trying to escape the scorching stares that returned to her the moment Exion vanished.

“Hhk.”

They had barely walked a few steps when Exion shoved Arzeletta roughly against the wall. Her body collided with the cold bricks.

Gesturing at her barely covered body, plainly visible through the rags, Exion spoke.

“If you keep walking around like this, it starts to feel like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Be honest. Haven’t you sucked off every d**k in this territory by now?”

Arzeletta shook her head. In truth, she hadn’t even fully processed what Exion had said. She had just reacted instinctively, unsure of what else to do.

“If you’re going to keep this up, why not just leave the territory altogether? If you enjoy being dragged around by men so much.”

“…….”

“Just go to the capital instead. Wouldn’t that be better?”

Exion lifted her chin.

Sure enough, there wasn’t a trace left of the warmth he had shown before. His red eyes scanned Arzeletta’s face coldly, as if evaluating an object.

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    Tags:
    Female Protagonist, Obsessive Love, Past Trauma, Possessiveness, R19, Revenge

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    From the Tip of the Tongue of the Lowliest Maid

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