Chapter 49

Yuneria returned to the ducal estate.

Lino didn’t discover this through the grapevine; he learned of Yuneria’s return courtesy of the breakfast delivered to his room early that morning.

Assuming the meal had been sent up because he was too unwell to descend to the dining hall, he had eaten it without a second thought. Tragically, the food contained Yuneria’s malicious ‘welcome back’ gift.

“Ugh… I’m dying.”

Lino staggered out of the bathroom, his complexion a ghastly, deathly pallor. Cold sweat beaded thickly across his forehead. His lips, previously chapped and white, were now slick from violent vomiting and rinsing, yet tinted a sickly blue.

Clutching his agonizing stomach, Lino leaned heavily against the wall as he shuffled back into the bedroom, his eyes darting to confirm the windows were securely locked. Whether Grondil or Enoch had intervened, it seemed they had deduced exactly what Yuneria was capable of.

Hmm. It was probably Enoch, Lino reasoned, rubbing his stinging, bloodshot eyes with the back of his hand as he crawled back into bed.

“What a fiery welcome back.”

Burrowing under the covers, Lino curled tightly into a fetal position. He was shivering from a feverish chill, but the primary source of his misery was the agonizing throb deep in his abdomen—a lingering souvenir from being ruthlessly ravaged by a beast’s cock two nights prior.

Every time he registered the horrifying sensation that his entrance was still permanently stretched open, a violent shudder wracked his frame. He had lost consciousness during the act and only awoken early this morning; the trauma of enduring that colossal member remained brutally vivid.

What exactly is his true identity?

When Lino had first opened his eyes, completely unaware his faint had transitioned into a deep sleep, he had genuinely believed he was dead and had finally arrived in heaven.

However, the catastrophic, full-body ache reminiscent of a severe beating, the eerie sensation of his buttocks remaining parted, and the scorching, raw burn of his internal walls had swiftly, violently slammed him back to reality.

Right, heaven isn’t a place one can enter so easily. If someone like me got in, it would undoubtedly exceed maximum capacity. If I had actually died, I’d definitely be in hell.

Desperately searching for a silver lining in his continued survival, Lino’s thoughts drifted to the man responsible for his current, wrecked state.

Castillion Luz Grondil.

A man perfectly suited to a name evoking the brutal, freezing expanse of Isberg. A Duke of the Empire. The possessor of wealth so astronomical he could squander mana stones like pebbles. A distinguished guest secretly residing in the Zetina Kingdom.

And a man who placed an extreme premium on physical beauty.

Until a few days ago, this constituted the entirety of Lino’s knowledge regarding the Duke.

Now, a few terrifying details had been added to the dossier.

His true form was a massive beast. He was currently scouring the continent for the ‘Letia’ on the explicit orders of the Cartian Emperor, who was incapable of producing an heir. The Letia was a male capable of bearing children.

And the individuals currently suspected of being this Letia were…

“Yuneria and myself… is that it?”

Even buried entirely beneath the heavy blankets, Lino shuddered violently. If he were confirmed as the Letia, he would be forced to surrender his body to the Cartian Emperor and bear his child.

“……”

He lowered his hand to gently press his stomach. Ugh. At the slightest touch, an agonizing pain flared, as if his insides were being shredded by a jagged blade.

Did it hurt this badly the first time…? Lino tried to recall the aftermath of his initial encounter with Grondil. It had been excruciating, certainly, but he didn’t remember it being this horrific.

In truth, the pain of merely shifting his body was so severe that he hadn’t even realized Yuneria had laced the thin pea soup delivered for breakfast with poison.

“Nngh.”

Lino curled his spine tighter, trying to compress himself into a shrimp to alleviate the agony. Sleeping in a fetal position seemed to marginally ease the stabbing abdominal pain compared to lying flat.

Whether Yuneria had procured a new, experimental toxin during his recuperation at home, the laced soup caused Lino to violently purge from his mouth rather than his bowels. Along with the meager spoonfuls of pea soup he had managed to swallow, he vomited pure blood.

He had no idea what kind of poison it was, but the sheer, surreal horror of casually throwing up mouthfuls of blood after a minor wave of nausea felt entirely disconnected from reality. Perhaps it only felt that way because he was the victim.

Still, thank the gods it isn’t a laxative.

The sheer apocalyptic nightmare of a severe laxative was something only a survivor could understand. The gut-wrenching cramps and relentless diarrhea caused the anus to swell obscenely, burning and stinging with every passing second. It reached a point where even taking a sip of water became a terrifying gamble.

And Lino’s anus was currently in a catastrophic state of ruin from absorbing the beast’s massive cock. No, ‘ruin’ was far too mild a word; it was an absolute disaster zone.

To violently expel stomach acid and toxins through an entrance in that condition? Since his stomach contained nothing but water and poison, there would be no solid matter—just searing, acidic bile twisting his gut and burning its way out.

The resulting agony would defy all written description.

Fusing the reality of his current posterior trauma with the vivid memory of Yuneria’s previous laxative assault, Lino bit his lip hard and muttered a silent, heartfelt prayer.

Thank you. You utter son of a bitch, Yuneria.

After slipping back into a feverish, fitful sleep, Lino awoke feeling exponentially better than before. Checking the date on his phone, he was stunned to discover two entire days had passed.

What the… I close my eyes and two whole days just vanish? He clicked his tongue in disbelief, yet a cynical thought emerged: if he continued living like this, he might successfully run out the clock on his escort duties without lifting a finger. Granted, he was actively sacrificing his physical health—a crucial prerequisite for his long-term escape plan—but he could simply recover once he returned to the Order of St. Margia.

His original plan had been to submit his resignation the absolute second his escort duty concluded, but recuperating in a scenic, unpolluted area before vanishing completely didn’t seem like a terrible idea either.

Sitting up groggily, he rolled his neck and tested his limbs. The perceived improvement was largely due to the severe, full-body muscle aches having finally subsided. Reaching behind himself, he slipped a hand into his trousers and cautiously pressed a single finger against the cleft of his buttocks.

“Ngh.”

A faint heat and a dull, bruised ache radiated from the swollen entrance. Still, it was leagues better than two days ago. Feeling a slick, tacky substance coating his fingertip, he deduced someone had meticulously applied ointment while he was unconscious.

Please, please, let it have been a doctor and not the Duke, Lino prayed fervently as he prepared to go back to sleep. When ill, eating well and resting well were paramount. Since eating well was permanently off the table, he had to focus entirely on sleeping. Double-checking the securely locked windows, Lino closed his eyes.

“Urk.”

His stomach churned violently, and a moment later, he vomited blood once more. Though the volume was small, a searing pain clawed up his throat, as if his esophagus had been chemically burned.

Simultaneously, a deep, sickening lurch in his gut sent a dull ache radiating outward. The stomach and esophageal pain were undeniably the lingering effects of the unidentified poison in the pea soup. If I had known, I would have saved a spoonful and discreetly asked Enoch to analyze it.

Regretting his lack of foresight, Lino dragged himself out of bed.

He haphazardly rolled up the blood-stained blanket and tossed it into a corner. After quickly showering, he stepped out to find Grondil sitting in the parlor, legs crossed casually on the sofa.

“Ah… you are here?”

Lino offered an awkward greeting, his eyes darting to the wall clock. Reading the time, one of Lino’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise.

“Did you not go out on an excursion with Sir Disson?”

“Sit. We have matters to discuss.”

Grondil gestured to the opposite sofa with his eyes.

Matters to discuss? Striving to maintain a perfectly normal gait, Lino approached the sofa and sat down.

Watching Lino lower his hips with agonizing, microscopic slowness, Grondil’s brow furrowed deeply. His blue-gray eyes flicked toward the bedroom door before locking back onto Lino.

“Are you injured?”

“Pardon? No. I am perfectly fine.”

“Hardly. I smell blood.”

“Ah…”

Right. This man is a beast.

Explaining Yuneria’s toxic welcome gift felt too exhausting, so Lino had attempted to brush it off, only to be instantly caught.

Because the man sitting before him looked so flawlessly, terrifyingly human, Lino had temporarily forgotten the beastly cock that had absolutely demolished his insides.

“Haaaa…” Lino let out a long, heavy sigh. In response, faint wrinkles appeared on the bridge of Grondil’s nose. Though Lino had brushed his teeth meticulously, the beast’s acute olfactory senses easily detected the scent of blood rising from deep within his throat.

“Is it Sir Disson’s doing?”

“Um… yes. I suppose so.”

Lino nodded nonchalantly. Grondil abruptly tossed a small vial he had been holding. Lino caught it; the vial was packed with tiny, perfectly round, sky-blue pills.

“What is this?”

“A protector.”

“A protector?”