Chapter 32: A Servant’s Penance

“Huuek! Aaahng!”

She wasn’t sure if what she had just done was a mistake or not.

At the very least, the pleasure that made her head feel like it was burning was real.

Pinning Bell down with both hands, Lema fixed her upper body firmly in place and began moving his hips alone.

“Master—khh, khraaahk…!”

“Haah—ugh!”

“Ah, haaah, Master… Master…”

Everything else was rigidly frozen in tension, yet Lema’s lower half moved obscenely, like a dog rutting. Every time his shaft slid out and rammed back in, a squelching sound echoed noisily from the junction.

Moisture dripped down her thighs. It was supposed to serve as lubricant, but instead it felt more like an aphrodisiac. Wherever the fluid touched, her body burned hotter and hotter.

Even the air around them was filled with suffocating heat, but that too was swallowed as part of the pleasure.

Her brain felt as though it were melting.

Ah, so this was it.

It was the same ecstasy as when she devoured prey.

This act was akin to sacrifice consumption—because through it, she could utterly devour her partner’s will. And Bell realized how starved she had been for such offerings.

“Ahh, haaahng… ahhh!”

Each thrust brought a rush of intense satisfaction. Each pounding lift from behind sent rapture racing up her spine, spilling through her entire body.

Even in the middle of this act, what filled him was paradoxical—worship, reverence, and the guilty thrill of defiling it with his own hands. And yet there was pleasure, desire, desperation, and a swirl of feelings too complex to name.

Normally, no matter what emotions her offering struck her with, she would never have stripped her defenses down so far. But she chose to do so instinctively—because she knew that even if this zealot’s mind had been driven unstable, toward his object of madness he would show only absolute reverence.

And right now, that object was herself.

“Haaah, Master, ahhh, ahhhhk…!”

When his thrusts struck a certain spot inside, Bell’s head fell back as she tumbled into yet another climax. Exposed nape glistening, Lema sank his teeth into her shoulder like a mounting beast and inhaled deep into her neck.

“Khhuuk!”

His shaft, swelling within her, spasmed as it spilled its seed.

And that raw sensation brought her a dizzying satisfaction.

“Haaaahhh…”

As he released inside her, Lema crushed her in a suffocating embrace. Just like before—that seemed to be his habit during climax.

At last, it seemed to be over.

Bell slowly rolled herself onto her stomach, pressing her forehead into the bed, utterly spent.

“Fuuuuh…”

That faint sense of danger had heightened her arousal. Though tired, she thought… if Lema Valkite alone could bring her this much, then before meeting a true summoner, it wouldn’t be so bad to use him often.

And if it continued like this, next time would be even more satisfying.

She pushed away the man still pawing at her, trying to nestle and cling. Straightening her body—

“Uhk!” A short groan escaped her lips. Not a cry of pleasure this time.

“…Seems I’ve been injured.”

“Eh?”

Lema, still pressing kisses on her despite being shoved off, lifted his voice reflexively.

“W-what did you say?”

Bell didn’t answer, but spread her legs, checking the source of the dull pain.

“What do you mean, injured—”

Lema’s body was solid, muscled, bony, all hard edges. She remembered the rough scraping and bumping… and indeed, a deep bruise had formed where his jutting bone had struck her.

“I did warn you—I can be injured.”

“……”

She had spared him, and now it had come to this.

Had she lowered her defenses too far? Her body ached all over from his biting and sucking. How rough had he been, to leave even bruises from just the impact?

But the gamble was worth it. Because she was truly satisfied. Enough that she wouldn’t need to devour a man for a long while. A very long while.

When she looked back, Lema’s lips were trembling, his mouth open in shock.

“Lema?”

The look of a man confronted with the impossible.

It was the same as the fear of being swept into the unknown.

And bleeding as he was, he looked so pitiful that Bell beckoned him closer.

“Lema. Come here.”

“…Yes.”

He was panting, unable to breathe properly.

Bell ran her fingers over his shoulder, inspecting where her claws had raked. What she thought was a light scratch had torn flesh away. She had nearly killed him outright.

But such things weren’t a real problem for her. One sweep of her hand, and the wound closed instantly.

The pain must’ve been considerable, and yet he ignored it just to continue…

She reached for his face next. He lowered his eyes obediently, letting her touch him.

The cut lay just beneath his eye—she had nearly burst his eyeball. His pale green irises deepened when blood pooled around them. She liked those eyes—she preferred not to mar them.

She healed the split skin and wiped away the blood, restoring his handsome face.

But his gaze never left her thigh.

“T-this can’t be…”

“……”

His hand reached for her bruise, but faltered, shaking too badly to touch. His trembling rattled the whole bed.

“How can this be…?”

“Move aside. Get down.”

He dropped instantly to his knees.

Bell pressed the small bruise; it vanished at once.

But Lema stared as if it had been a mortal wound.

She sighed.

“Lema, your face and shoulder wounds were far worse.”

“That’s… different.”

Blood still soaked the sheets beneath him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Even after she showed him, he couldn’t accept it.

“…Regardless, I’ll give you the answer to what you asked me before.”

“……”

He met her eyes, sweat pouring, gaze still locked on her thigh as if in disbelief.

She had to shake his shoulder to bring him back.

“Lema, are you listening?”

“…Yes.”

In the end, she forced him up and pushed him out of the room.

“Cool your head until tomorrow.”

He wasn’t in any state to comprehend now.

Lema barely remembered dressing before he collapsed outside the door, knees buckling.

And he agonized through the night.

Can her body truly be that fragile?

No—fragile wasn’t even the right word. What he felt was a jarring contradiction.

He had seen Bell butcher people mercilessly at the s*ave auction. He had seen her tear humans apart with her bare hands, her flesh impervious to blades. That could not be the body of someone weak.

Nor could it be the body of a mere human.

Even if the victims had been worthy of judgment, what she did was massacre. No human thrown into that place could have felt anything but terror.

Even after choosing to abandon faith in Luxlon for the Dark God, Lema had never truly accepted it in his heart.

He had tried to bluff, but it never sat right.

He had even noticed Bell slip out alone in the evening—surely to hunt human offerings again. He thought about stopping her, but found no reason.

If fate decreed she was destined to be the Dark God’s apostle, then perhaps he must accept it.

But when he could bear his inner struggle no more and sought divine guidance—Live as you always have.

That was the message from his god.

What did it mean? To live as he did when he followed Luxlon? Or was it a test?

But how… how could her body be so easily bruised? How could she bear welts like that?

Even though he was unhurt.

It had to be a trial. A test of loyalty, to see if remnants of his old faith still lingered.

His eyes trembling, Lema searched around him. The means of punishment were easily found.

By the next morning, Bell had gathered her thoughts to explain matters to Lema. She also planned to investigate the incident in the Mirgas domain.

Perhaps because he had served so well as a sacrifice, her speech was smoother, her body lighter, her mind clear. She felt perfect.

But when she opened the door, she froze.

“…What now?”

Lema Valkite knelt before her, head snapping up the instant he sensed her presence.

“Master.”

His eyes burned with the same desperate plea as when he first begged her to accept him.

And faintly—there was blood.

Bell’s gaze dropped.

He had beaten his thighs raw, until they were torn open.

“I have punished myself. Now… please, punish me directly.”

With those words, he held out a bloody switch in both hands.

“…?”

Bell stared.

There was only one thought in her mind.

What the hell.

This man has gone mad.