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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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The aftereffects of the battle took their toll on Edanant. As soon as he returned to the familiar comfort of his home, he collapsed, unconscious. The accumulated strain, like overloaded cargo containers, finally overwhelmed him.
The tension that had gripped him for so long finally snapped.
Edanant crumpled, face-first into a soft pile of sand.
“Hmph, if only he’d died like that…”
“Water.”
Edanant, now lying in bed, extended a hand holding an empty glass.
The orange-haired woman frowned, her delicate features contorted in displeasure. She clearly felt humiliated, treated like a mere servant by Edanant’s imperious behavior.
She refused to yield to the Calamity’s vessel.
However, the Subjugation Chain’s binding was absolute. Bellatiel, suppressing her resentment, dutifully filled the glass with water.
“My mother will never forgive you!”
“Calling for your mommy in a fight is something only elementary school kids do. Such childish behavior from a mature maiden… A Seraphim who serves the One True God should at least know how to accept defeat.”
Edanant’s flippant tone grated on Bellatiel’s nerves.
She knew.
She knew that defeat was defeat.
Even if she refused to accept it, the outcome wouldn’t change.
The platinum choker adorning Bellatiel’s slender neck was a constant reminder of her status as a possession. The short, severed chain dangling from the choker resembled a leash used to control a slave.
“The outfit suits you.”
“If I ever break free from this Subjugation Chain… I will kill you.”
The Archangel of Justice and Execution,
Bellatiel.
She was currently dressed in a maid uniform, the standard attire for the Hohenberc household staff.
A white, frilly blouse.
A modest, calf-length skirt.
And a large apron worn over the dress.
The design was intended to minimize exposure. However, it did little to conceal Bellatiel’s voluptuous figure. The blouse strained against her ample bosom, the buttons threatening to pop at any moment.
–Pop!
A button sprang loose, flying through the air.
It struck Edanant squarely in the forehead.
He cried out, as if hit by a hard rubber pellet. Bellatiel burst into laughter, genuinely amused by his reaction.
“You monstrous milk jugs… How dare you attack your master?”
“It’s because the uniform’s small! And don’t call them ‘milk jugs’!”
There wasn’t a single woman in the Hohenberc household, staff or otherwise, who possessed a bust as ample as Bellatiel’s. This presented a significant challenge when it came to providing her with a maid uniform.
G-cup breasts.
A slender waist, rivaling even Ludmilla’s.
She resembled a creation of the goddess of love and beauty, a figure sculpted with divine inspiration. A beauty worthy of being chosen as the Earth Mother Gael’s adopted daughter.
“Ahem!”
The silver-haired girl cleared her throat loudly, expressing her displeasure. Edanant, noticing Zebeline’s irritated expression, averted his gaze.
When had she even entered?
There had been no knock.
The Calamity of Famine might descend, just as it had when he faced the Seraphim.
The safety of the Hohenberc household was paramount. Edanant scrambled out of bed, wary of Zebeline’s potential for a sudden outburst. As expected, Zebeline was seething with anger.
“Being nursed back to health by that damned seraph must be quite enjoyable, wouldn’t you say? To think you’d share such tender moments with your sworn enemy from the Celestial Realm.”
“It’s not like that…!”
–Crackle! Crackle!
Black sparks crackled in the air.
Dark lightning flickered, responding to Zebeline’s burning rage.
Desperate to defuse the situation, Edanant unveiled his prepared countermeasure. A temptation even the jealous saintess couldn’t resist.
“Bellatiel just told me… that she can restore the wedding ring!”
“What…?”
The wedding ring had been shattered in the aftermath of the battle. Though he had managed to recover some of the fragments, completely restoring it without reversing time was impossible.
There was a way to restore it?
How?
He hadn’t even recovered all the pieces.
Zebeline’s gaze shifted towards the seraph, whom she considered her sworn enemy.
Bellatiel trembled under the weight of Zebeline’s murderous glare. She recalled the moment the Calamity of Famine had broken free from the Subjugation Chain’s control.
“Why should I use my noble power for the likes of you? Calamity of War! How dare you threaten a Seraphim of the Celestial Realm!”
“You’ll do as you’re told.”
Edanant clenched his fist.
The choker around Bellatiel’s slender neck pulsed with light. White tendrils of energy stretched out from the choker, reaching towards Edanant’s hand.
“Kgh!”
Absolute command through subjugation.
The slave must obey the master’s every command.
Bellatiel, the choker’s original owner, knew this better than anyone. As Edanant tugged on the ethereal chain connected to the choker, the command activated.
“Radiance of the Seraphim, restore this object to its original form.”
A brilliant light coalesced in his hand.
The light then flowed towards the shattered fragments of the wedding ring.
The light solidified, forming a crystalline structure. Like a puzzle being pieced together, the fragments connected, the solidified light filling the gaps between them.
“Ah.”
The wedding ring was whole again.
The ring, a gift from her beloved, radiated a brilliant light.
Zebeline gazed at the flawlessly restored ring, tears welling up in her eyes. Overwhelmed with joy at having her precious treasure returned, she let out a soft gasp.
“You’re surprisingly useful. If you don’t mind, may I call you my all-purpose slave?”
“Your very existence is an insult!!”
Edanant chuckled, reaching out to pat Bellatiel’s head.
The seraph swatted his hand away, her voice filled with indignation.
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Ludmilla, having received a discreet message about Edanant and Zebeline’s return, immediately set out for the Hohenberc marquisate.
“Ugh!”
Elizabetta, who had been clinging to Ludmilla’s back, doubled over, clutching her stomach.
The sudden journey from the capital to the marquisate had taken its toll on her.
It had been a grueling forced march. Ludmilla, seeing her younger sister’s distress, fidgeted anxiously.
“Ugh… My head is spinning!”
Rue, who had been carried like a sack of barley, also stumbled, dizzy and disoriented.
Ludmilla had initially planned to travel alone.
However, the villainess and the Luinong had insisted on accompanying her.
Finally arriving at the Hohenberc marquisate, Elizabetta and Rue collapsed, exhausted. Leaving them in the care of the servants, Ludmilla hurried towards the entrance of the mansion.
“Princess Ludmilla.”
“…Saintess. You’re safe.”
They were bitter rivals, always engaging in a subtle power struggle whenever they met. However, the aftermath of the incident at the Sanctuary demanded their immediate attention.
The Sanctuary had fallen.
Countless paladins had perished.
Ludmilla inquired about the news from the Sanctuary, seeking confirmation. Zebeline nodded grimly, confirming the Holy City’s destruction at the hands of the Calamities.
“The Black Cardinal. The Unrivaled Sword. The Master of the Red Tower. The continent’s strongest were all present. Edan had to face those absolute powerhouses one after another, without a moment’s rest.”
“He… fought them all?”
“You’re surprised too soon. He even faced the Seraphim Bellatiel, the mastermind behind the incident, in the end.”
“……!”
The news was beyond comprehension. Ludmilla, feeling a wave of dizziness, pressed her hand against her temple.
If it hadn’t been for Zebeline, who had accompanied Edanant, she would have doubted the veracity of the report.
The Seraphim’s descent.
Edanant had faced the Archangel of the Celestial Realm and held his own.
Zebeline’s final words—that Edanant had emerged victorious against the seraph—left Ludmilla speechless. She felt a surge of awe at Edanant’s impossible feat, a victory against a mythical being.
“Is… Is Edanant alright?”
“He’s resting in his bedroom. He’s quite exhausted.”
The clash between the Seraphim and the Calamity had resulted in the Holy City’s destruction. Edanant must have sustained serious injuries in the prolonged battle.
Ludmilla, her concern growing, hurried towards the second floor of the mansion, where Edanant’s bedroom was located.
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Perhaps it was due to his weakened state.
But he felt unusually thirsty.
He longed for a sports drink, but such modern conveniences were unavailable in this world. So, he settled for a sugary concoction instead.
“To think I, the adopted daughter of the Holy One True God and commander of the Celestial Archangels, would be forced to serve a Calamity’s vessel! I will never forget this humiliation!”
“Water.”
Edanant, still lying in bed, gestured towards Bellatiel, ordering her to hold the water pitcher like a living mannequin.
Perhaps it was payback for the humiliation he had suffered in the Sanctuary.
He relished the sight of Bellatiel’s frustrated reactions to his every command, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
Bellatiel vehemently protested his treatment of her as a mere servant, but the Subjugation Chain’s power was absolute. She could only grit her teeth and obey. With each command, she begrudgingly refilled his glass with the sugary drink.
“I’m getting tired of this sugary swill. Bring me some milk.”
“Kgh! Go get it yourself!”
“That’s why I’m asking you to fetch it. Now, move your lazy ass.”
“I’ll kill you…! I swear, I will kill you!”
A woman…
No,
A slave, talking back?
Edanant tugged on the Radiance Chain.
Bellatiel clutched at her choker, her face contorted in humiliation as the invisible force tightened around her neck.
“Hmm?”
“S-Stop! Stop it this instant!!”
–Bring me some milk.
As soon as Edanant issued the command while tugging on the chain, Bellatiel began unbuttoning her blouse.
What was this?
He hadn’t asked for a striptease.
She undid the buttons, revealing her ample bosom before discarding her blouse and bra entirely. Her porcelain-white breasts swayed enticingly.
Her rosy nipples, like ripe berries, stood erect.
A sweet, milky fluid dripped from them.
Milk.
Had she interpreted his command that literally?
Well, it wasn’t entirely wrong.
With breasts that size, he supposed calling them “milk jugs” was an apt description.
Edanant gazed at the Seraphim’s overflowing bosom, a look of appreciation on his face.
“Edan!”
Just then—
The door swung open, and a frantic voice called out his name.
He locked eyes with the princess who had burst into the room. The seraph’s impromptu striptease continued, and Edanant felt a sudden urge to urinate, his bladder threatening to burst.
‘Is this a dream?’
‘Well,’
‘It must be.’
Edanant, convinced he was still asleep, maintained a nonchalant expression, feigning indifference as Ludmilla and Zebeline stared at him in disbelief. After all, nightmares always ended with an explosive awakening.
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