Salvation of the Fallen - Chapter 15
As Viareche shouted, unable to control her anger, tears streamed down Arsena’s eyes. At that pitiful sight, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly. It was exactly as Morpheus had imagined. Only then did he realize. Ah, I wanted to see that child crying, he thought.
That’s why he had yelled at Arsena, who was too frightened to do anything. He wanted to see her crumble, cry, and cling to him. The reason didn’t matter. However, the thought of someone else’s marks on that snow-white skin was unbearably wasteful. It was an emotion he couldn’t understand himself.
“Mother. I’ll do it.”
As Morpheus grabbed her arm and signaled with his eyes, Viareche suddenly stopped her trembling body and looked around. Many eyes were watching. She couldn’t believe how she had become so agitated. The nobility she had built up over a lifetime was crumbling. All because of something like that.
“…Alright. Go ahead.”
As the flustered Viareche hurriedly left, Morpheus licked his lips.
Ever since he had grabbed that insignificant ankle at the temple, conflicting emotions had boiled up every time he encountered Arsena. The more he saw her, the more unpleasant he felt, yet he wanted to keep her in his sight. On nights when darkness swallowed the light, he would secretly think of Arsena. What kind of appearance would she have now? His blood would surge when he thought of Arsena whimpering with her defenseless white legs exposed. Morpheus wasn’t foolish enough not to know what his feelings were.
Morpheus had never paid attention to such lowly chatter before. He thought they were inherently different. But to be ar*used by such a trivial child, and at her trembling appearance at that.
It was hard to tell whether some hidden instinct had awakened within him or if he had been bewitched by that vulgar female body. Morpheus naturally thought it was the latter. He was certain that he couldn’t possess such depravity. So he must have been bewitched. He wished he hadn’t known; it must have been enticed by that lowly thing.
If only Arsena had been a servant. Then he wouldn’t have gone this far. It would have been an interest that would fade after taking her once. That’s what everyone said. But the subject was Arsena. Who, unpleasantly, had become his sister, bearing the same surname.
Once his eyes were opened, they couldn’t close. Without realizing it, his gaze traced Arsena’s slender neck and waistline. Whenever her fragile ankles peeked out as she walked, Morpheus recalled that day. The clear mark left just from grasping briefly. The obedient posture without a hint of doubt. The white flesh that shouldn’t be seen. And even the suppressed moan.
God, forgive me.
Each time, he inevitably shuddered with displ*asure. It shouldn’t be happening. She was a child who bore the same name as him, even if adopted.
To be captivated by such a thing. To have adopted such a thing. For the first time in his life, he resented the parents who had passed on their noble blood to him. It was an unforgivable emotion.
“Ten days. Confine her to the room of repentance.”
With this brief order, Morpheus turned away, clenching his fist. Yes. This shouldn’t be happening. Morpheus, who didn’t even nurture the seeds of small scandals to inherit the duke title from his childless uncle, had too much to lose by dealing with Arsena on a momentary impulse.
“I’ll supervise her myself.”
Nevertheless, the fact that he couldn’t let go completely was because of that wicked being. The one that bewitched him and made him harbor these filthy emotions. Morpheus’s lips twisted subtly. Even he couldn’t tell whether it was disgust towards himself or Arsena.
***
Crunch-.
Arsena opened her eyes in the endless darkness. After floundering for days at the bottom of hell where there was nowhere left to fall. The pain of being bound by iron chains, feeling as if her whole body would break, had now become familiar. In the countless passages through the darkness, the demon-like man had persistently tormented Arsena.
The sweet scent of an aphr*disiac entered her mouth as soon as she regained consciousness after fainting into sleep. Arsena simply swallowed the approaching misfortune while bound. She had no strength or will left to resist. All that remained for Arsena was obedience. Nothing suited her better, having succ*mbed to misfortune all her life. Even if it gnawed at her very bones.
As the surging heat of the aphrodisiac intertwined and devoured reason, the man tormented Arsena greedily. He roughly grasped her chest and licked the tender, protruding flesh with his sharply honed tongue. When the snake-like man’s body temperature penetrated every corner of her heated body, Arsena jumped up like a fragile bird with its wings caught.
The more she reacted, the more persistently the man drove Arsena until she became damp with exhaustion from endless fear and forced pleasure. As if it were his mission. Blindly. Like a child. Cruelly yet innocently.
Arsena sobbed and panted at the impure energy the man had planted. Her body twisted in pain, pulling taut the iron chains that bound her wrists. Her body, succumbing to the man’s persistent torture of her chest, held a burning heat. Even though she was filled to bursting, Arsena yearned for something she didn’t understand. At the same time, her twitching lower part opened up and poured out fl*ids as if salivating.
Knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to stop herself, Arsena rubbed her legs together. She wanted to twist and block her hungry, quivering lower part.
Contrary to her will, Arsena’s body grew hotter. Even knowing the man had withdrawn and was watching her, she couldn’t stop. She writhed, forgetting even the pain pressing on her wrists. Even the sound of the man licking his lips seemed to melt her flesh.
That wicked man had corrupted her. Arsena was burning from head to toe as if thrown alive into a pit of fire. No matter how much she struggled, the extreme thirst wouldn’t disappear. This wasn’t a thirst she could quench herself.
She didn’t expect him to do anything, but she resented him. The man who had carefully kindled the spark that would consume her, only to stand by and watch. The man simply observed Arsena thrown into an unquenchable fire for a long time. The helpless pain and thirst. He willingly enjoyed the process of her writhing in pleasure until she lost consciousness, and then disappeared into the darkness. It was demonic cruelty. And when she regained consciousness after struggling with past memories, everything would repeat again. As if trapped in an inescapable loop of fate.
Crunch-.
Once again, the sound of biting into fresh fruit flesh was followed by a small rustling noise. Her hearing was sharpened by her blindfolded eyes. The man was nearby. A little distance away, not close enough to hear his breathing. His presence was clearly felt there.
“Are you awake?”
The man keenly perceived Arsena’s changes at the slightest movement. As if he had been watching only her. Now the hellish time would begin again. She would have to swallow the aphrodisiac with its ominous energy and helplessly offer up her swollen parts. A deep despair crossed Arsena’s face. If there was one thing different from before, it was that a faint ecstasy accompanied it.
“Do you want to eat too?”
Step, step. The heavy footsteps approached, but what the man offered was different from Arsena’s expectations. A sweet scent, different from the aphrodisiac, seeped into Arsena’s nostrils. At the disgustingly familiar smell, Arsena reflexively turned her head away.
Viareche’s Felita.
How did he…
