Tamed Monster - Chapter 4
“Wife.”
From the intense gaze of the woman observing him, he could easily tell that he had raised her suspicions.
This woman was still unsure of his true identity. She instinctively felt uncomfortable, though it was still unconscious at this stage.
However, if he continued to handle her as he would in his original nature, it wouldn’t be long before he was treated not as a fool, but as an intruder. The man cleared his throat, trying to compose his voice with a more dignified tone.
“…Your Highness.”
“Where’s the bathroom? I need to wash up.”
He thought he had spoken a rather human-like sentence naturally. For days, he had been drenched in sweat and blood, unable to remove his armor due to the annoying humans who had brought him here.
Even for a creature from the swamp, the feeling of bodily fluids sticking to the armor was nothing short of unpleasant.
“…You can go through that door.”
Sylvia’s gaze softened with a hint of pity as she looked at her husband, unable to find the bathroom in his own room.
She decided to believe that her husband was truly ill. It was hard to rationally suspect that the monster before her, who bore the exact same appearance as her husband, was anything but the real Lancart.
There were no creatures in this world capable of perfectly transforming into a specific person. Even monsters couldn’t pull off such a feat.
After all, the only monster to have successfully disguised itself as a human and taken the form of Lancart was this one. So it was easy for everyone to believe he was truly Lancart. The man walked toward the bathroom door, with heavy and sluggish steps.
“Could you place my clothes by the door? I’m embarrassed to be seen naked.”
“….”
“Wife, you can at least do that for me, can’t you?”
It wasn’t a matter of being able to do it—Sylvia had no choice but to listen to whatever command he gave.
Fortunately, he showed no interest in her, so he had never entered her bedroom or come to ask for anything. He only permitted her to stay within one step’s distance when they were in public, so until now, Sylvia had never received any attention from him.
“Yes. I’ll bring them right away.”
Lady Rossa must have called for the physician. Sylvia, deciding not to bother calling a servant, headed to Lancart’s wardrobe herself. Passing through the two doors that connected to the bedroom, she arrived at the dressing room. The sound of Lancart removing his armor echoed from the bathroom.
Clink! Clatter!
The sound of tiles breaking in the bathroom made Sylvia flinch slightly. It seemed her husband, now a fool, had lost his caution when moving. As she busied herself selecting appropriate loungewear in the dressing room, the creature in the bathroom was struggling to remove its armor.
‘It’s damn hard to get off.’
He had thought it was a pain to put on, but taking it off was infinitely worse, far more frustrating than putting it on.
Unable to bear it any longer, the creature grabbed the joints of the armor and wrenched them off with his bare hands. Once one joint loosened, he easily slipped out one arm. Having gotten the hang of it, he tossed the leg armor off the same way and removed the steel plating from his chest before pulling the rest of the torso armor down like taking off pants.
“Ha.”
From there, it became easier. The thick tunic he had hastily thrown on inside the armor slid right off with a simple tug. Finally, standing bare, Lancart looked at himself in the mirror.
He appeared more compact and leaner than usual. His face looked somewhat less attractive, too.
To a monster, even a human man who stood at 6 and a half feet tall looked like a tall, thin child.
The reason he didn’t like the arrangement of his features wasn’t because it wasn’t to his taste. His original features were far more blunt and fierce, and his teeth had been sharp. In fact, his teeth had once been two rows. He was actually worried about how he would chew food now.
“…Duke?”
Hearing his wife’s voice at the door, Lancart tore his gaze away from the mirror.
His blue eyes fixed on the door, as though they could pierce through it. In fact, he could sense the warmth of the woman beyond the door, her breath, and the restless movements of her feet. Monsters, having been born and raised in the wild rather than a cradle, had senses far sharper than humans. He smiled to himself.
“Mm. Did you bring the clothes?”
“Yes… Should I put them here?”
“Mm. Thank you, wife.”
He scooped water from the bath and poured it onto the floor with a splash. It was to make her think he was still bathing.
His flawless body, unmarred by a single scratch, appeared just as it had when he was human Lancart—broad and muscular, radiating a strong vitality. But even so, every once in a while, a muscle would twitch uncontrollably. Each time, the monster would furrow his brow.
Grit.
He pressed down firmly on his shoulder, then on his abs, and again on his thighs, trying to calm the muscles and flesh that were rising and tightening.
Although he now nearly resembled a perfect human, there were still a few issues that hadn’t been resolved. In truth, the muscle spasms weren’t a major problem.
Lancart glanced down at the lower part of his abdomen with a concerned face, and let out a groan.
…What should he do about this?
The drooping, flabby p***s jutted out of the lush plot.
