Chapter 39

“Your Highness, I believe the establishment might be clo—oh?”

When Lino had darted up to the second floor, Grondil had unquestionably been sitting alone at the table. Yet in that brief window, the Duke was suddenly engaged in an amicable conversation with a woman.

Lino immediately glued himself to Grondil’s side, leaning his upper body forward and extending an arm. The distinguished guest escort stance drilled into him during holy knight training deployed reflexively.

“Who are you? Identify yourself immediately.”

“Oh my.”

Startled by Lino’s aggressive, rigid tone, the woman seated opposite Grondil leaned back, her eyes widening. While her movement appeared to be born of surprise, Lino critically assessed that she was actually leaning back to scrutinize him more effectively, causing his guard to rise even higher.

The woman’s deep blue eyes sparkled with undeniable curiosity. She was exceptionally beautiful and deeply alluring. Clad in a white dress with a plunging neckline, her facial features projected an innocent purity that clashed starkly with her voluptuous figure.

“My name is Erin,” she introduced herself, staring at Lino with an intensity so pointed it practically prickled his skin.

It was Grondil who answered Lino’s demand for her identity. “She is the proprietor of this establishment. We are acquainted, so be at ease.”

Grondil tapped the backrest of the chair beside him, an unspoken invitation. However, Lino shook his head in outright refusal. Back at the estate, Grondil was gone all day, leaving Lino to languish like a professional vagrant with zero escort duties. But the situation outside was entirely different.

If Yuneria were here, he would undoubtedly be clinging to Grondil’s side, which might have relieved some of the pressure on me, Lino reasoned. Regardless of how much the youth might have preferred to simply flirt, as a designated escort knight, he surely would have maintained a forward defensive perimeter.

“Sir Disson never once performed his escort duties anyway,” Grondil remarked, cutting through Lino’s thoughts. “There is no need to stand until your legs ache.”

“……”

Lino realized he had severely overestimated Yuneria. Given that the youth belonged to an elite holy order whose reputation far eclipsed the Order of St. Margia, Lino had naturally assumed Yuneria would at least execute the bare minimum of his fundamental duties while flirting. Apparently, that assumption was woefully incorrect.

“So sit,” the Duke commanded softly. “I did not bring you here to stand guard over me.”

“He is quite right,” Erin chimed in smoothly. “If one wanted to find an entity capable of harming Lord Castillion in this world, they would search in vain.”

“Ah… hmm, understood.”

With both Grondil and the woman urging him to sit, Lino relented, pulling out the chair and perching precariously on the very edge of the seat, ensuring he could spring into action at a moment’s notice.

However, that tactical plan was instantly annihilated by a single flick of Grondil’s wrist.

Screeech—

“?”

Grondil reached over and casually shoved the backrest of Lino’s chair. The massive, solid-wood chair scraped loudly against the floor, violently rocketing forward to slot neatly beneath the table. Caught entirely off guard, Lino slammed into the table’s edge, the impact forcing his body backward until he was practically swallowed by the depth of the seat.

What the… exactly how terrifying is his physical strength?

While his frame was smaller than Grondil’s, Lino knew perfectly well that his body weight far exceeded that of an average adult male. Furthermore, the solid-wood chair he occupied was visibly massive. Yet Grondil hadn’t shoved it while standing behind him with leverage; he had casually slid it forward one-handed while remaining seated beside him.

Lino suddenly recalled his first day at the estate, when Enoch had effortlessly hauled away the unconscious knights three or four at a time. Are the people of the Cartia Empire naturally endowed with superhuman strength?

In his extensive studies of Isberg, information regarding the neighboring Cartia Empire was inevitably included. Yet, not a single text stored in his brain mentioned Cartian citizens possessing inherent superhuman strength. If they had, Cartia would have conquered the entire Terne Continent centuries ago.

Does that mean the Duke and Enoch aren’t human? Are they an ancient, non-human species?

Don’t be ridiculous. It was an impossible hypothesis. Perhaps if they were discussing the ancient non-human races found strictly in historical texts, but in the present era, unlike antiquity, those races had vanished entirely; humanity was the sole sentient species on the Terne Continent. The only living, breathing entities were humans, flora, fauna, and the incredibly rare, terrifying monstrosities known as beasts.

Had beasts not existed, historians likely would have dismissed the records claiming non-human races once held superiority over humanity as mere myths. Beasts could not be felled by human weaponry; their extermination required the deployment of divine power or magic. Magic itself was a relic of antiquity. In that era, the natural world overflowed with mana, allowing many to easily learn and wield magic, but the art had vanished alongside the non-human races. Today, only mana stones exclusively sourced from Isberg retained any trace of magic, keeping the concept barely alive on life support.

Therefore, the eradication of beasts fell squarely under the jurisdiction of paladins. However, because beasts appeared so infrequently—perhaps once a decade, if that—no holy knight enlisted with the actual expectation of ever battling one. If beasts materialized constantly, the number of individuals willing to become paladins would plummet to less than half… no, less than a quarter of the current roster.

That was how terrifying beasts were; a single appearance guaranteed the absolute annihilation of the surrounding region.

Regardless, logic dictated that Cartian citizens were ordinary humans. Which meant Duke Castillion Luz Grondil and his aide, Enoch, definitively fell outside the parameters of ‘ordinary.’

Lino recalled their imprisonment at the underground auction. The Duke had casually bent and snapped thick iron bars with his bare hands. That display of monstrous power could not be rationalized merely as a human possessing ‘strong grip strength.’

“Why are you staring at me with those eyes?” Grondil asked, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. “Was what we did in the car not enough for you?”

“…Pardon? Ah, no?!”

Grondil flicked Lino’s forehead playfully. Only then did Lino realize he had been staring unblinkingly at the Duke. A single question had branched into endless speculations, causing him to completely forget who he was currently with and where he was.

“Lord Castillion, your escort knight is incredibly adorable, isn’t he?” Erin purred.

“Do not covet him,” Grondil replied smoothly. “He is mine.”

“But of course. Did you not bring him along specifically to show him off to me?”

“I did.”

Erin toyed with her crimson-painted lips as she spoke. While her words were directed at Grondil, her gaze was fixed squarely on Lino—more specifically, on his lips.

What is going on…?

Feeling the back of his neck flush with sudden heat, Lino fidgeted nervously with the hands resting on his thighs. Her gaze was so sticky and intent that he swore he could physically feel his lips being touched.

Unable to endure the woman’s scrutiny any longer, Lino rolled his lips inward, biting down to hide them. Instantly, Grondil’s hand shot out, physically covering the lower half of Lino’s face.

“I believe I told you he is mine.”

The lazy, relaxed smile that had graced Grondil’s face moments ago vanished, replaced by an icy void. His voice dropped, saturated with a heavy, explicit warning.

“Hmm.”

Erin’s gaze finally shifted to Grondil. The greedy hunger that had consumed her face as she stared at Lino’s lips was replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

Serious about what? Failing to grasp the woman’s underlying intent, Lino swallowed hard and waited for Grondil’s response. However, finding himself utterly incapable of looking the Duke directly in the eye, he discreetly averted his gaze. Ever since the day he had received the ‘punishment’ of being violently penetrated by the man, Lino felt as though he had contracted a disease that physically prevented him from meeting Grondil’s eyes.

He was terrifying, yet incredibly kind. He was an absolute pervert, yet devastatingly handsome.

Truthfully, when the Duke had first declared a ‘punishment,’ Lino had braced himself for something horrific. Well… having his rear forcibly breached was undeniably horrific, but Lino still considered offering up his backside vastly preferable to being flogged, maimed, socially destroyed, or dragged back to Baron Haklan.

Furthermore…

Even though it hurt like hell, I did ultimately feel pleasure from it, Lino admitted to himself. The forced penetration had been agonizing enough to make him wish for death, but considering how intensely he had climaxed afterward, he genuinely questioned if it even qualified as a punishment.

“Why should I have to answer that to you?” Grondil retorted.

Lino had fully expected a confirmation, a denial, or perhaps a dismissive ‘I don’t wish to answer.’ Instead, Grondil simply deflected the question entirely.

Hmm. Lino blinked. What does that response mean? If I look at his face, maybe I can decipher it. I’ll just steal a tiny, subtle glance…

“You. Come closer to me.”

He had intended only the briefest of peeks, but suddenly, his chair was violently yanked toward Grondil. Startled, Lino whipped his head toward the Duke, only for Grondil’s sharp, high nose to brush agonizingly close against his own.

Grondil’s face was terrifyingly close. For a split second, Lino thought someone had blindfolded him with a dark grey cloth. But it wasn’t cloth; it was the suffocating proximity of Grondil’s darkened, blue-grey eyes.

They look like freezing storm clouds heavy with snow, Lino thought.

“Are you avoiding me? Do you prefer the woman’s attention over mine?” Grondil demanded in a low hiss.

“E-excuse me? No, absolutely not!?”

The freezing storm clouds reprimanded him with a deeply problematic accusation. Initially overwhelmed by the suffocatingly close proximity, Lino attempted to lean away, but Grondil’s hand clamped down on his knee with terrifying force, pinning him in place. The pain was immediate and intense. If the Duke applied even a fraction more pressure, Lino’s kneecap would shatter.

“Your Highness… your h-hand…”

Too mortified to cry out in pain in front of the woman, Lino desperately placed his own hand over Grondil’s vice-like grip. The agonizing pressure caused moisture to pool under his eyes. Looking up at Grondil, a thin film of tears glazed his spring-green irises.

Grondil stared down into Lino’s damp, trembling eyes. The dark, stormy irises were undeniably furious, yet the terrifying smirk stretching across the Duke’s lips was deeply ominous. Leaning in until his lips brushed Lino’s ear, Grondil whispered.

“Sir Cliff, have you already forgotten what I told you?”

“W-what exactly did you tell me…?”

What did the Duke say to me? Was it something crucial? Enduring the crushing agony in his knee, Lino frantically scoured his memory, but came up empty. They had eaten breakfast in silence that morning, hadn’t seen each other at all the previous day, and the day prior to that consisted entirely of Grondil shoving fingers inside him under the guise of applying ‘ointment.’

He was genuinely panicking because he couldn’t recall when, where, or what Grondil had said. If it had been vital, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“Did I not warn you that you are in massive trouble?”

“Massive trouble?”

No. Did Baron Haklan discover I’m here? Is he currently en route to the capital of the Zetina Kingdom?

To Lino, ‘massive trouble’ equated exclusively to Baron Haklan. But how did he find out? The Duke explicitly promised he wouldn’t hand my information over to the Baron in exchange for the punishment.

Did he change his mind…?

Lino’s tear-filled eyes trembled violently, radiating absolute terror. Reading the sheer panic flooding his face, Grondil released his crushing grip on the kneecap. Instead, his fingers trailed agonizingly slowly up Lino’s thigh in a mocking, tickling caress. Reflexively, Lino clamped his thighs together. He had no idea if Grondil intended to grope his member right here, just as he had in the limousine. If they were alone, it would be one thing, but with a stunning woman sitting mere feet away, he desperately wanted to avoid such utter humiliation.

Fortunately, Grondil’s hand bypassed Lino’s crotch entirely, continuing its upward trajectory. Because the knight’s uniform—clearly tailored to the Duke’s exacting, possessive tastes—was so tightly fitted it was almost uncomfortable, Lino could track the exact path of Grondil’s fingers dragging across the fabric.

Grondil’s hand dragged over his lower abdomen before coming to a dead stop directly over his navel. Poking the navel once sharply, Grondil began to grind his palm slowly and sensuously against it, whispering dark poison directly into Lino’s ear.

“It requires a cock capable of burying itself all the way here to make you truly climax, does it not? Men possessing equipment of that magnitude are exceedingly rare. I highly doubt you will ever encounter another one in your entire life besides me. Thus, you are in massive trouble, are you not?”