Chapter 38
Chapter 38
The girl’s shimmering pink eyes bothered him. The image of her face as she was dragged away lingered. It was the reason he sought out the stench of more blood. Yet, the discomfort persisted, like a hangnail that constantly drew his attention.
As the screams subsided, Benedict casually flicked his sword. Flesh and blood splattered. The pungent metallic scent filled the air. Disgusting. The scent and fluids of others had become repulsive.
The smell of blood was tolerable, but still foul. There was only one being he didn’t find repugnant. His white rabbit, whose sweet scent tempted him to devour her whole. The woman whose blood tasted as sweet as a ripe, overripe apple. His prize.
For Benedict, the greatest spoils of this war were undoubtedly his slave. Her unusual reactions, her unpredictable behavior that defied his control, irritated him, but it didn’t matter. Those traits would change with time. He was ruthless in achieving his goals, and he would make no exception in taming and reshaping his slave.
Having witnessed the thief’s punishment, she would remain silent as a mouse for a while. The sight of her pale, trembling form had been amusing. It was surprising that someone so timid would dare to intervene. Dismissing her inexplicable actions, Benedict pushed open the iron door. He appeared remarkably clean for someone who had just carried out an execution.
“Let’s go.”
Benedict left the dungeon and headed towards the training grounds. It was where he should have been according to his schedule. Moritz followed a step behind.
“The new recruits’ training should be underway.”
Benedict opened his pocket watch and checked the time. Moritz quickly added, sensing his master’s impatience, “Since we started the day early, the timing is actually perfect now.”
Benedict was a man of routine, disliking wasted time as much as he valued his plans. The execution had been a rather impulsive decision.
“….”
He was dissatisfied. Benedict recognized the returning wave of displeasure. It stemmed from the strange feeling that his choices weren’t entirely his own. Then, his sharp senses picked up something unexpected. He stopped abruptly.
“Where is she?” The question lacked context, yet Moritz understood immediately.
“Unless otherwise instructed, she would have been left there… Your Highness?”
Benedict changed direction. This new path didn’t even lead back to where the servant had been punished, causing Moritz to hesitate.
“Your Grace-”
“Check on the soldiers’ training and report back.” With a curt dismissal, he strode away. The presence he sensed grew stronger, solidifying Benedict’s certainty. His mood darkened.
“Be careful. This way…” He heard a soft voice, like the chirping of a bird. Almost simultaneously, his golden eyes found her. His small, white prey. Glacial fury tinged his gaze. His pace quickened. It was the injured servant who sensed the danger first. Even though escape was paramount, he looked back, instinctively aware of the approaching threat.
“Gah! Ugh!” The servant suddenly choked, as if strangled. The woman beside him reacted belatedly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Guh… Heek!” Unable to speak, the servant’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. T
he woman couldn’t support his unconscious weight. As their bodies separated, Benedict’s expression softened momentarily, but only for an instant.
“W-Wake up! You can’t collapse like this…!” The woman looked at the unconscious servant sprawled on the ground, unsure what to do. She knelt beside him, trying to shake him awake. Just then, his shadow fell over her. The sudden darkness made her look up.
“…!”
Benedict watched her wide, startled eyes and thought once more how much she resembled a white rabbit caught in a snare.
“My slave,” he said, a smile curving his lips into a picturesque arc, “What are you doing here?”
But his sun-bright eyes held no mirth, only a chilling gleam.
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