Chapter 11: Lunch Rendezvous
V1P18A
“What am I going to do?”
Used that disappointing girl as a punching bag. Yes she deserved it, but it was still wrong. Instead of building a connection with a powerful noble? Let the bitch get under my skin.
She's seen my child, so either keep her under my thumb or put her down. Only two options. It would be faster to put her down but she's smart and knows who's who in this kingdom. That's information I need. Still, can't trust her.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
Maybe that's how I should look at this?
And if my most, fanatically, “devoted” slave doesn't hesitate to betray me? What does that say about the other five? It won't matter if I treat them with respect, if they won't respect themselves. They'll be easy prey for whoever wants to do whatever to them or with them. Or, worse, whatever to me through them.
Isn't isekai slave magic supposed to keep them from working against me?
Ugh… I'm hungry. Can't think well on an empty stomach. Need meat. Protein.
But I don't know how to hunt. Prepare the kill. Or cook it. Sigh. Might as well go back. Oh wait, a lake, I finally have a mirror. Been so busy that I haven't seen my new face yet. And here is a nice reflective lake.
...
“Oh, come on!”
This is not the face of a 15 year old. What the fuck?
“This is less Big Trouble in Little China and more, the Terminator.”
Like the only good Conan the Barbarian movie. But with silver white hair and steel grey eyes.
“Seriously, dude, this chin, way too many steroids.”
Well at least I'm not ugly. Better a strong face than a fugly face. And with a big package too? Yeah, body wise, things could have been a lot worse.
…
*sew* *pat* *twist* *tie*
“Huh. Not bad.”
Double check the kilt and sandals I’ve made from what was left of the edge-lord outfit, and redo the belts. Sanctity on my left hip and now Tormentor on my right shoulder.
Okay, so where to now? Can feel the general direction of the camp. But it's a few miles away now.
Sigh.
Oh, there are some humans a lot closer though. On horseback and a road? It will be faster running back on the road, so I'll head there. Maybe those guys got some food.
With a little mana enhancement I quickly reached the road. One last leap and...
“Superhero landing.”
*thunch
*“Damn, ow, that really is hard on the knees.”
***whiny***
Landed in front of a dozen complaining horses and horsemen. Did they pee their pants? Gotta change their armor? … What the shit?! That is the silliest mustache I have ever seen.
“Hold barbarian! You face Baron Futterel! Why do you trespass- Oh, is that you summoned one?” From outraged to amused in zero seconds. “Your attire presents quite the figure. You would fit right in with northern marauders.”
Hey, there was barely enough left to make this kilt and sandals after my training montage. Though, yeah, I do now kind of look like Conan the Highlander instead of Barbarian.
A little self-deprecating humor is good for the soul.
“Yeah, went for a walk and my clothes didn't survive the battle.”
Guy gives off an oily vibe but I need connections. Especially after this morning's fiasco. And dead people are terrible connections. Probably. Just gotta stay cool and be nice to this douche. But these guys are definitely laughing at me instead of with me.
Fortunately mustache is already acting like he's my buddy. Though he's totally making fun of me.
“What a strange accent. Good sir. Now that I have the opportunity, I want to commend you for your handling of your slave.” Say what now? “It was refreshing to see someone else remind that half breed of her place.”
Okay, more info is good info. Stay nice.
“Oh, has my lord handled her before?”
“Indeed, after all, I was her first.”
Is he bragging? What a sleazy grin. Maybe I can be the clever one for a change? Smile back.
“Her first? A Baron with a Princess? However did your lordship manage that?”
“Well I was her etiquette tutor.” Jesus he's easy. “Hours together every day. Her young maiden's heart aching for a brave knight so far away.” He's actually proud of this. “A few flowers. A secluded excursion. Some medicine in her tea. And she was mine.”
You're actually twirling your mustache? Are you a cartoon villain? Fake laugh time.
“Your ‘crowning’ achievement young lord?”
“Excellent humor sir!” Really want to punch him. “Sadly no. Oh, I have plucked the flowers of dozens of young ladies.” Disgusting how wistful he sounds. “Yet I was unable to finish plucking hers. Naturally she cried her first time like all the rest. Yet she too started enjoying it more and more each time after.” Can actually feel my skin crawl. “Once or twice more and she would have finally broken. Started begging for more. Then the half breed bitch disappears into the church!”
How old must she have been? Ten? Twelve? Feeling sick to my stomach. Come on. Muscle it down.
“Certainly you are a great *urp* man. Still, a princess? His majesty never found out?”
Dude’s eyes are lost in his glory days.
“Hmm? Oh that was no issue. Her sister was the one who asked me to break her.”
I look, and am, stunned.
“Her, sister, my lord?”
“Oh, I apologize, good sir. You don't know the sophistication of the nobility.” Yeah, don't think I want to. “Your slave is the daughter of the king, but not the queen. She was the result of a tryst with an elf lady that the king graciously chose to raise.” Really sick to my stomach. “She's just a half breed that was getting too uppity. ‘Tricky Avi’ is what her siblings called her. So I accepted Princess Milisant's request to put her back in her place.”
He “tsked.” Really “tsked.”
“I heard from the true princess later that she came to her after getting a letter from her knight. That he would be returning for her hand soon.” Be cool. “Ha! She claimed I was drugging and defiling her. What nonsense, I knew she really wanted it.” Now that's a dark look. “They all do.” Laughing again. “The look on her face when she found out her own sister had given her to me was priceless.”
Clearly feeling satisfied, mustache begins to ride past me.
“Unable to accept her lust for me or admit her betrayal to him. She fled to the church and ended up their toy instead. What a pathetic half breed.” He stops for a moment and turns back in his saddle. “If you don't mind sir, please give her my regards whenever you nibble on her right ear. That was her favorite spot during our rendezvous.”
Waving, he turns back and rides away.
“And once you get tired of her treachery? I might give you a good price.” Mustache sounds really impressed with himself. “Slaves like her need a firm hand. A firmer hand than you seem willing to give.”
I just stand there, watching them ride away. Was going to kill him. Kill all of them. They truly disgust me but… Would there be any point too?
It seems the more I learn about anyone. The more thoroughly rotten I find them to be. Monocle looks shady as fuck and grizzly may be more of the same. While tin can is almost as fucked up as my half breed slave. And why take revenge for someone who betrayed me?
Yeah, why she went into meltdown mode makes sense now. Mustache was probably in that meeting. Coming face to face with your molester would be traumatic. But that meltdown did reveal that she wasn't serving me. She was using me. And taking revenge for her when even her knight in shining fucking armor chooses not too is, well, kind of pointless.
I turn from the receding horsemen and start walking towards the camp.
“Is this world even worth saving?”
Angelles, Milisant (female, human, tourinese)
- 1st Princess
- Kingdom of Tourin
- Second child of King Arter II
Futterel, Ives (male, human, tourinese)
- "Mustache"