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33.33% Lustful Dominion: An Erotic Saga of World Conquest with My Harem / Chapter 50: It's Truly Repugnant To Subject Someone As Old As This Woman To Such Treatment

Bab 50: It's Truly Repugnant To Subject Someone As Old As This Woman To Such Treatment

"Wh-What do you intend to do with that?" Zolgar's voice quivered with fear as she mustered the courage to ask the question.

"What, you wonder?" Cian's tone dripped with sadistic amusement. "I'm going to use this to end your life, of course. What else?" His response cut through the air with a chilling certainty.

Without further hesitation, he raised his hand, the one that still clutched the detonator, and swiftly brought it down upon the back of Zolgar's neck, rendering her unconscious.

"Touching a woman like you truly disgusts me," he muttered, a twisted mixture of revulsion and resignation in his words. With a resigned sigh, he lifted her limp body, aware of the necessity but repulsed by the act itself. "But since I have no choice, I suppose I'll have to bear it."

As he began to walk towards the exit, an abrupt realization crossed his mind. "Oh, right. I nearly forgot," he muttered to himself, briefly shifting the weight of the old woman onto his shoulder. From within his suit, he retrieved something—a scarlet lotus. Carefully, he placed the vibrant flower into the cavity in Briar's head, using it as an improvised vase. The juxtaposition of beauty and death was a macabre sight to behold. Satisfied with his makeshift tribute, he returned Zolgar to her original position. "It's truly repugnant to subject someone as old as this woman to such treatment..."

And so, with a mix of revulsion and cold determination etched on his face, he left the room, princess-carrying Zolgar.

•••••

As Zolgar's eyes fluttered open, her gaze was met with the sight of a worn, uneven cobblestone floor. Slowly regaining her senses, she surveyed her surroundings, only to realize that everything around her mirrored the stone beneath her.

This was the dungeon, the very same one that she herself had used to imprison and violate young boys...

"Oh, so you've awakened," a voice resonated from beneath her. Zolgar's gaze descended, revealing the masked man, diligently fastening something to her restrained form.

"W-What are you doing?" she managed to stammer, her voice laced with unease. Glancing downward, she discovered the chains that bound her wrists and ankles, her limbs painfully splayed apart. "Wh-What do you intend to do?"

"Preparing a fitting end for you. What else?" the masked man retorted, his tone devoid of remorse.

Zolgar felt her blood run cold as the realization dawned upon her. She was bound to the very same rack she had used to inflict torture upon those helpless boys, violating them in unspeakable ways. Now, it seemed the tables had turned, and the man before her intended to subject her to the same fate she had imposed on her victims.

A sinister chuckle escaped the man's lips, relishing in the dread that consumed Zolgar. Slowly rising to his feet, he locked eyes with her—or at least, where her eyes should have been, as the mask he wore had no openings for vision. Nonetheless, his penetrating gaze sent a shiver down her spine as he posed a bone-chilling question, freezing her to the core. "...Before I end your wretched life, I have one question for you. Where did you hide the bodies of those you killed?"

"Huh?" Zolgar stammered, her mind reeling from the sudden inquiry.

"Do not make me repeat myself. This is your final chance. Answer me now," the masked man's voice dripped with a chilling menace, each word enunciated with an icy precision that pierced through her soul. "Where. Did. You. Put. The. Bodies. Of those. You. Killed?" The way he articulated each word sent shivers of dread cascading down her spine.

"I..." Zolgar began, her voice trembling. However, she hesitated, unable to form a coherent response.

"I warned you, did I not? Do not make me repeat myself," he sneered, his hand tightening around the handle of the rack.

As Zolgar felt the searing pain of her wrists being pulled taut, she mustered a desperate reply. "O-Okay! O-Okay, I'll tell you! They're... they're in that barrel!"

"In this barrel?" the man repeated, intrigue lacing his tone. With a swift motion, he pried open the barrel, revealing an unsettling sight—bones and skulls strewn within, far exceeding the capacity of the container.

"How many lives did you take?" he pressed, his voice laden with a chilling intensity.

"H..." Zolgar's voice trailed off, her fear overwhelming her ability to respond.

"I said, how many lives did you take?" The masked man twisted the handle once again, this time accompanied by a sickening crack.

"N-Noooo! You're tearing my arms apart! Please, stop!" Zolgar cried out, her agony mingling with the confession that would seal her horrific fate.

"Keep your screams to yourself. Isn't this exactly how you treated your victims? I'm merely giving you a taste of the same medicine you so freely administered. So, let me ask you again. Slowly. How. Many. Lives. Did. You. Take?"

"Seventeen! I killed seventeen boys!"

"Seventeen, huh? But that can't be all, can it? You mentioned 'seventeen boys,' implying that there were others—girls, men, women. So, how many lives did you truly snuff out?" The masked man's voice dripped with a chilling calmness.

Zolgar hung her head in shame. In reality, she had taken the lives of forty individuals, including her only son and daughters. "I... Why don't you just kill me? Isn't that your plan all along? So why prolong the torment?!"

"Perhaps you have a point," he mused. Without hesitation, he twisted the handle of the rack as far as it would go. The piercing sound of Zolgar's agonized screams filled the dungeon, blending with the sickening crunch of bones. The masked man remained stoic, unaffected by the horror he inflicted. He never faltered in his twisted task. Eventually, her arms, up to the joints, and her ankles were severed.

"Oh, right. Before you meet your demise, there's something I should say to you," he whispered, bringing his lips closer to Zolgar's ear. "Raping your own son... That was the most depraved act you committed."

Zolgar's scream reverberated throughout the dungeon, her sanity finally breaking. The man simply laughed at her, a chilling mix of amusement and cruelty, as her screams merged with sobs.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You truly are the most depraved mother of all! Unbelievable. Due to your twisted fetish, you raped your own son and accidentally killed him in the process. How do you even sleep at night? Don't the weight of your crimes haunt your dreams? Huh? Or perhaps you simply dismiss it as an unfortunate accident?"

"What... What have I done to you? Why are you subjecting me to this?"

"To be precise, you haven't done anything to me yet. But you had intentions, didn't you?" With those words, he removed his mask, revealing a handsome man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

Zolgar's eyes widened in shock as she beheld the young man. She couldn't help but find his face captivating. That was precisely why she had once set her sights on him. However, as the child of an earl, he had been out of her reach. Now, as the earl himself, teetering on the edge of disgrace due to his land's lack of contribution, she saw an opportunity. This young man was a delectable feast she couldn't let slip away. Unfortunately for her, that feast was poisoned, and now that she had taken a bite, her own demise was imminent.

As she looked at him, a shiver ran down her spine. His expression was void of any emotion, but within his icy blue eyes, she could discern a sadistic delight. He reveled in her suffering. The untainted boy she once desired was now stained...

...yet still captivating in her twisted gaze.

"...You sought my hand in marriage, didn't you? Well, here is my answer to you... I refuse."

After uttering his refusal, the man's words severed the last threads of Zolgar's consciousness. Darkness enveloped her, and she succumbed to the final void of oblivion.

•••••

Cian gazed at Zolgar, her severed limbs lying before him. Although he no longer laughed, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. With Zolgar's death, their goal for the night had been achieved. It served as a prelude to the revelation of their existence, a message to the Church, the Underground, and the Royal Family. The Scarlet Lotus would make its presence known.

His attention turned to the bomb he had brought with him. "I initially planned to use this to end her life, but when I saw the rack, I couldn't resist the irony. Now, what shall I do with it?" he mused to himself. "Well, I suppose I can improvise..." He placed the bomb near Zolgar's lifeless body, then retrieved a knife from his suit and decapitated her. Holding her head by the hair, he returned to the room where Briar's body lay. Placing Zolgar's severed head next to Briar, he took out another scarlet lotus from his suit and positioned it near her head. Finally, he donned his mask, concealing his face once more.

Descending the stairs, Cian's footsteps echoed through the silence. The floor was littered with the lifeless bodies of those he had slain. He was not yet accustomed to witnessing such brutality on this scale, but he believed he would grow accustomed to it in due time.

Noticing that the Paladin who had been attacking him from a distance seemed to have disappeared, Cian remained cautious. They might be lying in wait, anticipating his exit. However, as he stepped outside, no attack befell him. Only the gentle breeze carried the scent of iron. He cast one last glance at the manor, where the bodies of noble figures lay in twisted repose.

Maya and Vera had also done the same. The individuals they had killed were not ordinary by any means. They were high-ranking nobles, their deaths leaving a significant impact.

"Pigman Blackcrow was an earl. Drex Bluewolf and Zolgar Zuldark were marquises. Their deaths will send a message to all the nobles. Those who commit atrocities will face a similar fate as these three. If they wish to avoid tasting the wrath of the Lotus, they better march themselves to the gallows or else we'll be the ones to sever their heads," he muttered to himself. Retrieving the detonator from his pocket, he continued, "This marks the beginning of my conquest for world domination. I shall cleanse this land, purging it of its impurities. And when the time is right, I shall ascend to the throne as the king of this kingdom."

Raising his hand, clutching the detonator tightly, he prepared to press the button. With a whispered farewell to Zolgar Zuldrake and Briar Wool, he uttered, "May the depths of hell embrace you warmly."

And then...

Boom!

The manor erupted in a violent explosion. Cian watched as flames gradually consumed the house, its destructive force on full display. With a swift turn, he began to make his way back to where Maya awaited him.

•••••

On a rooftop, completely oblivious to the unfolding events below, a different scene was taking place.

A woman with white hair and dark obsidian eyes had another woman firmly grasped by the throat. The second woman had a similar hair color but possessed fiery red eyes. Judging by her armor, a breastplate that offered minimal protection, it was clear she was a paladin.

Gasping for air, the paladin managed to croak out, "Are you... working with that man?" She attempted to fight back, attempting to twist the woman's arms, but her strength was no match for her captor's.

With a cold, emotionless voice, the white-haired woman replied, "That man... was my target. It was the order I received. 'His' commands are absolute. I can't allow anyone else to eliminate him. Fortunately for you, you're not my target, so I won't kill you." Her voice lacked any semblance of humanity, sounding almost robotic.

With that, the woman exerted even more pressure on the paladin's throat until her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness. Releasing her hold, the woman picked up the paladin's sniper rifle and peered through the scope, searching for the masked man she had been tasked to eliminate. However, to her dismay, her target was nowhere to be found.

"Mission... failed," she murmured, her voice devoid of any emotion, resembling that of a machine.


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