Chapter 48: She Needs a Master!

As the wine slid down their throats, the 17 noblemen felt like dozens of needles pricked their minds. Their faces reddened, and their eyes went bloodshot.

"U-ugh—aaaaargh!!" In tandem, they clutched their heads, groaning in anguish while a miniature version of Kilian appeared within their souls: thrall lords.

Lilac mist swirled around the thrall lords, their eyes opened, and in that instant, although they couldn't quite name what it was, the 17 noblemen knew that something had been robbed from them.

"Stand up," Kilian ordered, and instantly the 17 nobles rose from their seats, standing straight like arrows.

"Kneel," Again, a simple command, and they all dropped onto their knees, unable to resist Kilian's will. Their eyes widened in fright! Although they knew the wine contained something that'd ensure their obedience, never did they expect Kilian's control over them would be so absolute!

"Now, now, forget that you ever saw me, that any of this ever happened, give up your harebrained scheme, and return to your lives of debauchery. When I need you, you will know." With those words, Kilian stood up and walked out of the room. The thrall lords relayed the command, and the 17 noblemen forgot all that occurred in the room, not even aware that their lives and death belonged to someone else.

Confused, they exchanged glances, wondering why they gathered in the first place.

"Actually, don't you think that we've been too rash?"

"Your grace speaks true. What need is there to bully the little Olaf when we can just enjoy the fruit of his labor for coin we will not miss?"

"Well said, friend. Now now, where were we?"

…

Meanwhile, Kilian crossed Ostria's streets to return to the castle—walking at a speed that prevented the bystanders from spotting his form. In less than a minute, he was back into the castle and made his way toward his chambers. At first, Kilian considered having Ralph abdicate his title to Olaf. Not only would this grant him direct control over the entirety of the duchy of Verden, but it'd also minimize the nonsensical issues he knew he'd have to deal with in the Imperial Academy.

After all, a world-sized difference stood between the twilight child of a duke and the twilight child of a viscount. However, he ultimately reasoned against it. The move would trigger far too many questions, and bring even more eyes toward Ostria. Of course, that wouldn't stop him from having those dukes and marquises covertly send resources to Olaf.

And thinking of how he could dictate the lives, emotions, and sensations of the 17 fools without them even realizing it, Kilian was forced to recognize the undeniable appeal of pulling the strings. It wouldn't take much for even the puppeteer to lose himself in the yoke of such powers.

Did Klaus ever experience the same feeling?

But as Kilian's thoughts drifted to his father-nemesis, the sound of chatter echoed from his room, drawing his attention. Pushing the door open, Kilian walked in and was startled to see Jezebel and Lena sitting on his bed, engaged in a wild debate.

"Bah, with boobs that size, who cares about feelings? Just press yourself against him, and he will do the rest!" Jezebel exclaimed while swinging her arms in theatrical gestures. Hearing this, Kilian narrowed his eyes at her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kilian asked, awakening the two to his presence. Seeing him, Lena diverted her gaze, a vain attempt to conceal her flushing cheeks. Jezebel, however, leaped from the bed and wrapped her arms around Kilian's.

"Perfect timing, you sure do know when to make your entrance. Come, come, you're going to love this." She rattled off. Meanwhile, Lena's cheeks neared a crimson shade. Kilian's eyes went between the two, and judging from the atmosphere, he quickly got the gist.

"So, Lena here used to be a little tsun, but after turning into a hellhound, she is now also a dere. Since she returned to human form, she's been experienced the hellhound need for carnal affection and wakes up every night from dreams of you plowing her cunt. Basically, she needs a master!" Jezebel explained while dragging Kilian toward the bed.

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Unable to endure this level of bluntness, Lena spun to face Jezebel, eyes daggering her with a glare of indignation.

"You didn't have to say it like that! What are you trying to make me look like?!" She snarled while clutching the bedsheets in a mixture of shame and outrage! At this point, Jezebel might as well call her a bitch in heat!

Alas, Lena's words had no effect on Jezebel, who gleefully carried on.

"No need to thank me little tsundere. I know your kind better than most. There is only one solution to your problem, and it's right here," Jezebel straightforwardly replied and emphasized her words by copping a feel of Kilian's crotch. Having never expected the woman to go to such lengths, Lena stared slackjawed, not knowing how to react.

At first, having no one else to discuss the sensitive topic with, Lena chose Jezebel, hoping to gain her expertise. But never did she expect the woman's shamelessness to reach this extent! No, the word "shameless" no longer was enough to describe this paragon of depravity!

A small voice in Lena's mind wanted to shove Jezebel away from Kilian to prevent her perverted presence from corrupting her stately justiciar. Kilian, however, inwardly sighed.

Fehl mutations weren't unique to the individual and typically belonged to one category or another. Through the Compendium of Species, he'd learned of all the mutations and the various beasts they produced.

Just like fehl daemons, fehl beasts possessed specific quirks. Though tyrannical in nature, Hellhounds, for example, bonded to the one that managed to defeat them and innately yearned to make them their mate. For Lena to develop such feelings after regaining human form stood within reason.

"Lord Justiciar, d-don't misunderstand. It's not like I l-like you or anything. It's just..." Lena mumbled, nervously playing with her fingers while avoiding eye contact. The words made Kilian roll his eyes. Could she be any more cliché?

"See? I told you. She just gave you the signal. At this point, her panties are probably dripping wet. Don't disappoint her expectations," Jezebel jested, tapped Kilian's shoulder, and vanished in a crimson haze, leaving the two behind.

A brief silence followed, with Lena playing with her fingers while Kilian stepped closer toward her.

"I dislike women that don't know what they want and do not play games with my own. If you want something, say it with confidence, regardless of the possible result." He stated, lifting Lena's chin to have her face his hazel gaze.

At first, the sensation of Kilian's hand on her chin threw Lena's mind into chaos. But when his words resounded, her mind cleared, and nervousness made way for determination.

"First, I must ask you something. What happened to him?" Lena inquired, obviously referring to her previous flame, Lukas.

"My previous words were not far from the truth. He was betrayed by the organization he worked for and sacrificed in an infernal ritual. I used the opportunity to make his collapsing vessel the foundation of my new body, killed the cultists and joined Ostria.

As for Bjorn, he's safe and thriving—probably," Kilian replied, and applying a mild pressure on Lena's chin, lifted her from the bed to stand before him.

Having already guessed the gist of Lukas' fate, Lena heaved a sigh. But though she wished to give him one final thought, as she stood before Kilian, her mind couldn't drift.

Their looks might have seemed 80% similar, but now that Kilian no longer concealed his true figure, Lena could see the staggering gap in handsomeness between the two. If the original Lukas stood above average, then Kilian represented divine perfection.

Logically, such an enrapturing figure should have never appeared threatening. But in Kilian's poised gaze, a mountainous pressure rippled, overshadowing all the rest. Trapped in the yoke of that pressure, Lena silently quivered and, for a second, wondered how it'd feel to have his hand clutch her neck.

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