The soft little female makes the beast husbands lose control and fall

Chapter 189. The Fortress of Sin

On the kingdom's outskirts lies a cursed wasteland, with jagged rocks and howling winds, where even the sunlight seems unwilling to linger. The land here is cracked like a spiderweb, and the exposed rock layers bear an eerie dark red hue, as if the earth is silently recounting the blood that once flowed.

Countess Doris built a fortress here, filled with blood and sin, like a demon's lair emerging from the abyss.

A fierce wind whipped sand and gravel against the fortress's weathered walls, producing a sound like the wailing of a vengeful ghost. Countess Doris stood on her meticulously designed viewing platform, a pleased smile curving her crimson lips. Below, the fighting in the cages had reached its climax; blood trickled down the rough wooden planks, forming tiny streams that seeped into the cracked earth.

“More intense, my little beasts,” she murmured, her fingertips tapping lightly on the railing. A servant immediately brought her a glass of chilled wine, the condensation on the glass sliding down and reflecting off the ruby ​​on her wrist.

Inside the cage, a brown bear-like orc roared deafeningly, smashing the head of a fox-man who attempted a sneak attack with a single blow. Brain matter and blood splattered across the iron bars, eliciting excited screams from the stands. Doris watched with satisfaction as several noble ladies from the Andromeda Galaxy stood up excitedly, their expensive silk skirts wrinkling from the movement, but they seemed oblivious.

“Ms. Doris, your performances are always so unforgettable.” A female wearing a peacock feather mask approached, breathing heavily. “I’ll pay double for that bear-man.”

Doris chuckled softly, swirling her glass. "Darling, that's my champion. But," she lowered her voice, "there are a few fresh faces in the basement that might satisfy your particular tastes."

The air in the basement was so thick it felt like you could wring blood out of it. Under the dim light, a dozen or so men were chained to the wall in a spread-eagle position. Their bodies were covered with old and new scars.

A female wearing a smiling mask is slowly branding the earl's crest onto the bare abdomen of a werewolf youth with red-hot iron tongs.

The werewolf let out incoherent howls, its muscles spasming from the excruciating pain, yet it was unable to break free of its restraints.

Her eyes, hidden behind the mask, widened with excitement, and she even bent down to lick away the tears that had seeped from the werewolf's eyes.

“What sweet despair,” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with twisted pleasure.

Suddenly, a metallic clanging sound came from above, followed by the sound of synchronized footsteps.

Doris frowned and put down her glass. "What's going on? I didn't schedule a changing of the guard today."

Before she could finish speaking, the fortress's heavy oak gates collapsed with a loud crash.

Sunlight pierced the dark room like a sharp sword, illuminating the swirling dust.

Within that beam of light, a row of silver armor gleamed.

"In the name of His Majesty the Empire!" The Grand Master of the Royal Holy Knights of Roland strode into the hall, longsword inlaid with holy crystals. His voice boomed like thunder, causing the crystal chandeliers to jingle. "Doris, you are suspected of illegally detaining and abusing an Imperial citizen. You are hereby arrested!"

The noblewomen in the stands were thrown into chaos. Some knocked over their wine glasses, while others screamed and searched for an exit. Doris's face turned deathly pale, but she quickly regained her composure.

“Commander Roland,” she smiled sweetly, “there must be some misunderstanding. This is just a small private club.”

Roland ignored her explanations, his sharp gaze sweeping over the dying beastmen in their cages before turning to the staircase leading to the basement. The stench of blood wafted up from there, mingled with the putrid smell of despair. "Search the entire fortress!" Roland commanded sternly. "Rescue all those imprisoned!"

The paladins dispersed like a silver torrent. Vice-commander Caesar led a group straight to the basement, his boots echoing crisply on the stone steps.

When he saw the scene in the basement, even the battle-hardened Caesar couldn't help but gasp.

“By the Beast God,” he whispered in prayer, swiftly severing the nearest chain. The werewolf youth lost his balance and fell forward, only to be caught by Leona. His skin was burning hot, and the freshly burned wound on his abdomen was still smoldering.

"Medical team! We need a medical team immediately!" Caesar shouted into the communication crystal, while taking off his cloak to wrap around the werewolf's naked body.

Meanwhile, Doris took advantage of the chaos to retreat behind the observation deck, her fingers trembling as she opened a hidden door. She had to escape to the secret laboratory, where there were bombs to destroy the evidence.

"Where are you going, Your Excellency?" a cold voice came from behind. Doris turned around abruptly and saw Roland standing three steps behind her, his longsword pointed at her throat.

“You can’t do this to me!” Doris screamed hysterically. “My father is the Imperial Chancellor of the Exchequer! My uncle is a cardinal!”

Roland's eyes were colder than polar ice: "Before justice, everyone is equal."

"Especially when you not only abuse orcs, but also kidnap Imperial citizens for illegal experiments."

Doris's face turned deathly pale instantly: "How...how did you know?"

“We’ve been tracking missing persons for three months,” Roland said, pulling out a roll of parchment they’d found, detailing data on various human experiments. “Until a week ago, a young orc who had escaped came to the temple desperately seeking help.”

"Stop them!" Doris suddenly shouted, smashing her wine glass at Roland's face.

Ten bodyguards clad in black armor immediately emerged from the shadows, forming a human wall that blocked the center of the passage. The lead tiger-man bodyguard extended his claws, which gleamed coldly in the dim light.

"Get out of the way!" Roland pointed his longsword horizontally, the holy crystal shimmering with a divine light on the blade. "Don't you know what she did in the basement?"

A young paladin cried out incredulously, "You're all males! She abuses our people like that, and you still want to protect her?"

The tiger-man bodyguard's ears twitched involuntarily, and his claws trembled slightly. Behind him, a bear-man bodyguard unconsciously touched the branding scar on his neck—a "punishment" inflicted by Doris herself three months ago when he had failed in his mission.

“We,” the tiger-man’s voice was hoarse, “those who disobey orders will be sent to the arena, or the laboratory.”

From the other end of the corridor came the sound of Doris's high heels running, accompanied by her hysterical laughter: "Fools, hold them off!"