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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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After that, Johan continued to make increasingly bold demands of Evangeline.
“You… want me to… use my mouth? But we just… Mm, alright.”
Evangeline, without protest, took his penis, still slick from their previous activities, into her mouth.
“I… I’m your slave, Johan… a fleshlight for your pleasure. Pant, pant—”
He made her utter words she, as a woman, would never normally say.
“Hngh- Honk- Hoot- Oink—!”
He pushed her until her cries resembled those of a sow, not a woman.
He stripped her of all dignity, treating her not as a witch, not even as a person, but as a mere object for his pleasure.
A selfish, one-sided act, sacrificing her for his own gratification… And Evangeline endured it all.
Without complaint, without protest.
By the end of their night together, Johan realized he could no longer feel fear towards Evangeline.
Instead, a deep, primal lust surged within him whenever he saw her.
The only inconvenience was the constant struggle to hide his arousal. Otherwise, it was a rather pleasant outcome.
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“Ow…”
During breakfast, Evangeline winced as she tried to sit down, clutching her buttocks.
Marguerite, watching her, tilted her head.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Mm—it’s just… uncomfortable to sit…”
“Really? What happened? You should put some medicine on it.”
“I did, but it still hurts…”
Evangeline glanced at Johan, who looked away, a sheepish grin on his face. He had been a bit too rough last night.
He had ravaged her untested entrance… she should be grateful she could even walk, let alone sit. She might even have become incontinent.
The fact that she harbored no ill will towards him, despite the pain, reaffirmed her feelings for him. And reaffirmed Johan’s belief that he had no reason to fear her.
‘How foolish of me.’
Master was so kind and beautiful, how could he have been afraid she would hurt him?
Even students terrified of bullies felt safer if the bully was their friend.
Of course, the fear Evangeline inspired was far greater than that of any schoolyard bully…
“Johan.”
“…Yes, Master?”
“I need to apply some medicine… could you help me?”
She looked at him, her eyes full of desire. Johan knew it wasn’t just about the medicine.
He would have normally refused, but looking at her face, a dark lust stirred within him.
“—Gladly.”
Johan succumbed to his desire.
The other witches, watching Johan and Evangeline leave together, realized something had shifted between them.
They couldn’t comprehend what could cause such a drastic change in a relationship.
But they felt a growing unease. They were being left behind.
If someone was running ahead, the others would inevitably fall behind.
To keep up, they had to run too.
Or… break the runner’s legs.
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The Church headquarters. The Central Cathedral.
Where the Pope and high-ranking priests resided.
Elicis was imprisoned, accused of abandoning a city and its thousands of citizens.
She argued that saving lives shouldn’t be a crime—but the Church elders, obsessed with killing witches, refused to listen.
The only reason they kept her alive was because she possessed information about the witches.
“You claim there are at least three witches… living together?”
“…That’s correct.”
“Can you vouch for this information?”
“In my current state… do you think I have any reason to lie?”
“I suppose not.”
The inquisitor extracted information from Elicis. She tried to resist, fueled by her resentment towards the Church, but she couldn’t withstand the expert interrogation.
She confessed everything, down to the taste of her mother’s milk, then collapsed, exhausted and bleeding.
The inquisitor casually tossed her back into her cell and left. Elicis, listening to his receding footsteps, chuckled dryly.
‘Should I have… just died back there?’
Then she would have been a martyr, not a tortured prisoner. A meaningless sacrifice, but the Church wouldn’t have cared.
They didn’t see people as people, just numbers on parchment. Mindless drones obsessed with killing witches, having forgotten the very reason for their existence.
“Cough—!”
Blood and pus clogged her throat, and Elicis choked, spitting blood onto the floor.
She was dying, but no one cared. This prison was filled with dying people, many far worse off than her.
A feast of living corpses. Elicis despaired, realizing this was where she would end. She rolled over and stared at the moldy ceiling, tracing the shape of a cross.
A golden cross, visible only to her, shone down. Though intangible, powerless, it brought her comfort and strength.
–Oh God, bless us. Save us. Forgive them, for they know not what they do…
Click— As if in answer to her prayer, the cell door opened, and a priest entered.
He looked down at the bloodied Elicis, then began reciting a prayer.
The priest’s prayer was potent, and Elicis’s wounds began to heal. She frowned at this cruel cycle of torture and healing. Holy Knights, who had accompanied the priest, lifted her and carried her away.
“Where… cough!”
“Be silent. You have not been granted permission to speak.”
Elicis spat bloody saliva at their feet. The knights frowned, but they didn’t harm her further.
Was torture the inquisitor’s domain? Or were they simply making her presentable for her execution?
Surprisingly, it was neither. Elicis was taken to the Church nuns, who cleaned and dressed her in a nun’s habit, something she rarely wore.
“What are you… planning…?”
“A guest will be arriving shortly.”
“A guest?”
This was strange. Why would an important guest visit a prisoner accused of heresy?
While she was still confused, the door opened, and the guest entered.
“You’re the witch’s Holy Knight?”
He was dressed in gold.
Despite the gaudy attire, he exuded an undeniable charisma.
Elicis didn’t know who he was, but she instinctively understood.
This man was a ruler, an embodiment of authority.
“Tell me everything.”
He was clearly the Emperor.
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Johan heard the sound of a jet engine.
A sound he’d only heard on Earth, a sound he hadn’t heard since arriving in this world.
“Master, did you hear that?”
“Hm? Hear what?”
He asked Evangeline, wondering if he’d imagined it. She hadn’t heard anything. Johan, tilting his head, returned to his book.
Some time later, someone knocked on the door.
Everyone in the cabin tensed, their eyes fixed on the door. The cabin was located deep within the Demon’s Forest.
Guests were rare, practically unheard of.
Which meant only witches or witch hunters would come here.
“Should I get it?”
“…No, I’ll go.”
Evangeline hid Johan behind her and approached the door. She cautiously opened it, and a woman standing outside complained about the delay.
“Honestly! I’ve been knocking forever!”
“…Who are you?”
“A guest! Why else would I come to a place like this?”
Evangeline, momentarily stunned by the woman’s assertive tone, stared at her as she entered the cabin and sat down on the sofa.
The woman crossed her legs and pulled a smartphone from her pocket. …Johan’s smartphone.
“Is the owner of this here?”
She looked at the witches and asked.
“Who are you?”
A guest had arrived.
An uninvited guest with Johan’s belongings.
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