Become their wicked yet gentle lord.

"You like rosewater lotion, right?" The boy asked Hetia out of the blue while eating his biscuit.

Chapter 8 The Rose Knight's Test

Hetia did indeed like rose-scented shampoo, and coupled with her fiery red hair, she was once known as the Rose Knight in the academy.

“You dress very elegantly in your daily life, completely unlike the tomboyish woman I first met, covered in dust and sweat.”

Hetia seemed to mind this, and looked slightly annoyed as she listened to Ryusha's words.

Ryuu chuckled. Although Hetia's figure was more mature than others her age, she wasn't particularly prone to body odor. If you removed the strong smell of blood and grime from their first battle, the smell of sweat on her body wasn't offensive to Ryuu.

It was a scent of roses, a hormonal fragrance mingled between a naive young girl and a mature, beautiful woman, reminiscent of the intoxicating aroma of a fitness enthusiast or a male after a training session at the land division.

However, if it ferments for a few more days, things will be different. I'll want Ryuka to use a high-pressure water gun to thoroughly wash Hetia's muscular body.

"You also said that if you are on a mission or on the battlefield, it is normal to go for half a month without showering while covered in blood."

"So that's how it is. You are the rose dew, and I am you on a mission. Do you understand?"

Liuxia quickly finished her dinner, licked her fingers, and then got up.

"I'm on the first half of the night shift tonight, you should go to sleep."

This is utterly absurd! What is this brat even talking about?! Hetia felt completely offended. No matter how warlike she was as a knight, she was still a girl at heart. Regardless of her personality, being criticized for not having time to clean herself up and deal with body odor was truly unpleasant.

Hetia lay down on the portable bedding, only to watch Ryusha slowly walk away. (The rest of the text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the initial thought.)

Where are you going?

Ryūka was carrying a cavalry lance and two short spears as he walked outside the camp.

"Practicing martial arts, being too close will disturb you, won't it?"

"I'm not some delicate little girl who has trouble falling asleep," Hetia said sharply. The two weeks of peace had made her forget the humiliation of being tormented by Ryusha.

"Suit yourself, but Miss Tartu, you'd better tone your voice more respectfully, or perhaps you'd like to have another 'spraying' experience?"

Damn it! Seeing Ryuka's feigned polite yet threatening smirk, Hetia angrily turned over, giving Ryuka a curvaceous back view as she lay on her side, undulating like distant mountains.

The sound of weapons whistling through the air, along with solid footsteps, filled her ears. Just by listening, Hetia could tell that Ryusha's training was extremely rigorous, a military combat style designed specifically for ordinary people, devoid of any fancy moves, and possessing considerable power even without the use of battle aura.

In the past two days, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Ryuka is like the top model student in a military academy. She doesn't show any of the way she used to torture herself or fool around with that little witch.

Thinking of this, Hetia's body became hot again. That unprecedented experience lingered in her mind, something she couldn't explain.

The sounds of martial arts practice were becoming increasingly irritating, and Hetia began to regret not having sent him further away. Even in the wilderness, she was confident that nothing could threaten her; taking turns on night watch was merely a military custom.

Unable to fall asleep due to her racing thoughts, she finally realized what Liuxia meant by "rose dew".

For Ryuka, enjoying herself is like returning to a refined life after completing a mission. But under special circumstances, she can also get used to prolonged harsh conditions.

For Ryūka, his 'military mission' was to complete the construction of his territory, improve his martial arts skills, make sufficient preparations for the arrival of His Highness's people, keep a low profile afterward, and climb the ranks step by step.

Therefore, he wasn't in a hurry to enjoy it; he just wanted to use this "education" to deflate his arrogance and make him cooperate obediently. In order to preserve his chastity, he would naturally restrain himself.

In other words, as long as he is still of great use to Ryuka, he will not force him too much.

This brat is quite the pragmatist, and he's very ambitious. Possessing the body of a beautiful female knight is nothing compared to his long-term goals.

Thinking of this, though she was reluctant to admit it, Hetia's opinion of Ryusha suddenly rose.

"Hey, Ryuka, do you want to join His Highness's camp?"

Hetia sat up and boldly extended an invitation to Ryukyu.

"It's just a proposal. It won't hurt to hear it. How about you think about it?"

The boy cast a curious glance his way, seemingly more interested in how he would present the proposal than in the proposal itself.

But at least he didn't punish her disrespect directly with the slave mark, did he? For her own sake and for His Highness's, Hetia boldly began to test the waters.

"Your goal is power and status, isn't it? Wouldn't it be better to choose a suitable monarch to serve than to struggle against the imperial system on your own? I assure you, Her Highness's talent, character, and ambition far exceed your imagination, and she appoints people based on merit, so even heretics will have a place to use their talents."

"Besides, unlike that witch who is clearly a first-class heretic, you have already developed battle aura in the past two weeks, which can cover up your heretical abilities."

“I have observed you. Your talent and character are quite good. As long as it is useful to His Highness’s great cause, it is not unreasonable to let that witch go in consideration of your merits. His Highness has the ability to go toe-to-toe with the Holy See.”

Having said all, Hetia looked intently at Ryūka, anticipating his reaction.

"I'm sorry, but Kania and I have already made a pact."

Ryūka smiled. Hetia was unaware that Kania's target was the Otus royal family, including the princess she served. Pretending to agree to infiltrate the enemy seemed like an option, at least easing the immediate pressure. However, Ryūka needed to discuss this major strategic shift with Kania before making a decision.

We must also consider the possibility of being deceived and betrayed by Hetia.

Therefore, Ryuka's reply to refuse was very ambiguous, neither making it clear nor cutting off the possibility of further developments.

"That little witch, she certainly knows how to manipulate men's hearts, especially young men like you, but this proposal probably won't do her any harm either."

Indeed, if Kania weren't the cursed 'Bel Witch,' working and living under the Empire's protection would be far better than hiding in the shadow of the Church. Unfortunately…

Seemingly seeing that Ryūka did not vehemently refuse, Hetia gradually became bolder.

"Or are you completely attracted to that witch? You want to listen to her opinions on everything? Ah~ Indeed~ I've seen her methods of serving people, and with the witch's innate charm, that kind of blissful experience is enough to control a man's will."

"However, I am also somewhat confident in myself."

As Hetia spoke, she removed her armor, revealing her stunningly voluptuous figure. The lifted hem of her clothing revealed her alluring abs, and her beautiful feet, having kicked off their boots, displayed captivating arches outlined in black stockings. The scent of roses and the faint scent of sweat enveloped her toes, which traced the sensual lines of her other leg…

Chapter 9 Migration and Escape

"So, while using violent methods is possible, it's still different if you actively cooperate, right? Maybe you won't be as alluring as that little witch, but a wilder partner will provide a different experience."

"To be honest, you have the ability and the ambition, we're not that different. Even if I alone can't satisfy you, there are still many charming women in Your Highness's camp."

Hetia proudly displayed herself, and as Ryūka walked towards her, she revealed a smug smile.

The boy's strong fingers caressed Hetia's lips and chin. Despite his youth, unlike the slender fingers of a woman, his thick, powerful knuckles rubbed against the Rose Knight's skin, making Hetia slightly tense and her breathing quicken. (The last sentence appears to be unrelated and possibly a fragment from another text.)

Hetia couldn't believe she would be so bold as to actively seduce a younger man, after all, she was the aloof rose of the military academy. But when she actually did it, a feeling of excitement mixed with shame sent a surge of heat through her body.

It's alright, this is all to control this brat, escape my current predicament, and even recruit talent for His Highness. Rather than passively waiting for Ryūxia to exploit me, I'd rather proactively use myself as a bargaining chip to create an opportunity—that's Hetia Tartu's strategy…

Ryuka's hands kneaded the lower half of her face as if playing with a toy. Hetia tried hard to suppress the feeling of being humiliated and responded with an active and passionate gaze.

He lifted her proud chin with his fingers, lightly scratching where her chin met her long, slender neck, and then...

He grabbed her throat tightly.

Are you trying to negotiate with me using something I can easily obtain?

"Ugh—ah!"

An astonishing sense of oppression emanated from Ryūka's hand. Hetia desperately pounded on Ryūka's arm, but it felt like hitting steel. Hetia had no doubt that with just a little more force, he could crush her throat, and she wouldn't even have time to unleash her fighting spirit.

This brat! His strength is even more outrageous than it was half a month ago! If I don't use my battle aura, my physical strength will undoubtedly be inferior to his!

“I will give your proposal a good consideration, but I don’t like the way you talk to me.”

Ryuga looked at Hetia, who was struggling in pain, and smiled calmly, as if he were holding livestock rather than a person in his hands.

"Moreover, we are different, very different."

"After all, no matter what the situation on the battlefield is, I won't sacrifice my comrades without batting an eye just to save my own life. Tell me, do you think I'd dare to be your teammate?"

Her brain was gradually losing oxygen, her lungs were burning unbearably, and Hetia's legs kept kicking the ground, her beautiful feet encased in black stockings kicking away the grass and getting soil from underneath.

That...that was for the sake of victory, it was unavoidable...

Ryuka's words stung her pride, as did his contemptuous gaze.

Hetia's eyes rolled upwards, the saliva at the corners of her mouth turned into white foam, and even the muscles in her lower body were about to lose control, bringing her to the brink of incontinence.

This was closer to death than any before, and Hetia began to wonder if Ryukyu was just teaching her a lesson or if he really wanted to strangle her. An overwhelming fear spread through her heart.

Finally, Ryusha released her grip, and the cool air rushed into Hetia's lungs as she gasped for breath.

"Ha—cough cough cough!!!"

“Miss Hetia Tartu, we are fundamentally different, and you will understand that sooner or later.”

"But one thing is the same: you tried to recruit me because I am useful, and I keep you around for the same reason, so try to be a useful slave."

At the border between Linhu Town and Sochi City, a troop of cavalry surrounded a group of civilian travelers. The armored warriors on horseback held gleaming spears, which looked like shadows of death in the blinding sunlight.

The leading male nobleman was around thirty years old, dressed in magnificent armor, and even his warhorse was clad in armor. In his hand holding the reins, he also held a rope, the end of which was tied to a pitiful man, covered in wounds, who had been dragged by the horse all the way and was too weak to stand up and speak.

"Hey, these are the people who stayed in your village last night, right? Which of them are slaves who escaped from my territory?"

The nobleman on horseback, Bran Duke, the second son of the Earl of Sochi, a peak knight who was just one step away from becoming a Grand Knight, tugged hard on the rope.

The man being dragged was too weak to speak, and nodded weakly.

When Bran asked him to identify the 'runaway slaves,' the man's dying gaze darted back and forth across the faces of the surrounded civilians, his throat bobbing, yet he couldn't identify any of the uneasy faces among them.

"Ah~ How touching~ You want to be a good person, huh? Well then, how about this: if the slave doesn't come forward and confess, I'll cut off the head of the one who protected him, how about that?"

Bran's ruthless gaze swept over the twenty or thirty people in the encirclement, as if he were playing a game.

"There must be more than one of you who are runaway slaves, right? Well, just step forward and I'll let the others and this protector go. The rest of you can safely reach your dream home, Garden Lake Town."

The surrounded crowd began to whisper among themselves. Some were merchants, some were free men, and others were draped in thick cloaks, their faces obscured...

"Lord Bran, we are all free citizens. We only went to Linhu Town because they issued a proclamation of 'free land reclamation and three years of tax exemption,' and the Earl agreed as well. There really aren't any of us... Ahhh!!!"

The whip lashed through the air and struck the man who had answered, splitting his face in two with white battle aura. He collapsed to the ground, howling in pain. It might not be fatal, but he would likely spend the rest of his life with a twisted, broken face...

"Seeing you step forward, I thought you were a slave. What are you talking about, a free man? I think you're trying to protect a runaway slave. If you don't talk, I'll have to interrogate you one by one."

Anxious gasps rippled through the crowd as the beaten man's wife wept, wiping the blood from his face with a handkerchief.

"Goddess above! Damn slaves, can't you step forward now?! Don't ruin us! I still have business to do!"

"You heartless runaway slaves! Not a single one of you came out! And these two were supposed to be protecting you!"

Bran licked the blood splattered on his face, looked at the restless crowd, and his gaze fell on the few people wearing cloaks.

"Looks like I'll have to interrogate them one by one, won't I?"

He drew his longsword and pointed it at the nearest cloaked figure, the tip of which caught her hood...

"and many more!"

"Sister! No!"

In the center of the crowd, a figure wearing a cloak squeezed out, and when she lifted the dusty cloak, it instantly caused gasps of surprise from those around her.

"Miss Kira, I really didn't expect to run into you here~"

Chapter 10, One-Sixty-One

Her wheat-colored skin, though not fair, was radiant and glowed in the sunlight. Even without her usual glamorous accessories, the gray-haired dancer was still stunningly beautiful.

Kira, a half-blood of one-sixty-one Dark Elf, possesses a rare and beautiful expression of her rare, exotic bloodline, making her a jewel of Sochi City and even the surrounding territories.

Kira's deceased mother was once the proprietress of the most luxurious hotel in Sochi, "Silver Star Nocturne." From a young age, Kira displayed amazing dancing talent, but that was a long time ago.

“Lord Bran, you must have misunderstood. We are travelers heading to Lake Forest together, and there shouldn’t be any slaves sneaking in.”

Faced with the blood-stained whip, Kira's lips trembled slightly, but her courage and kindness compelled her to step forward, hoping to stop the atrocity with her meager face.

"I never imagined that the jewel of Sochi would sell its ancestral property and flee to a remote town to live in anonymity. What, can't my father's vast and prosperous territory accommodate you?" Mei Lin thought to herself...

Bran grinned. The pursuit of the escaped slaves was just a pretext; he actually had another purpose. But he didn't expect to have an unexpected gain: he encountered this dark gem that no one dared to approach.

Despite being vilified for her lowly heretical lineage, Kira's mother possessed astonishing social skills. Moving among the upper echelons of Sochi, her business acumen and interpersonal connections ensured that no one dared to underestimate her precious daughter.

Of course, the legendary curse of the dark elf bloodline is also one of the reasons...

Kira remained silent in the face of Bran's provocation. In Sochi, she was considered a semi-socialite, but in the wilderness, she dared not talk back to Bran.

"However, I have heard of Miss Kira's reputation and character. Since you say there are no slaves here, does that mean this man is lying to me?"

Suddenly, the longsword was raised high, about to strike the head of the man being dragged by the warhorse.

For a commoner to deceive a nobleman is a capital offense.

"No!" Kira cried out in panic, but Bran, as if deliberately toying with her, stopped his sword above the man's head.

"Perhaps, some slaves have infiltrated, but we really don't know... I can compensate you for your losses! Please, Lord Bran, spare us travelers."

Her breath and voice were weak and feeble. Kira dared not look straight ahead, afraid that if she said the wrong thing, she would see a scene of bloodshed and corpses.

“Our food and supplies are running low. If we can’t reach Linhu Town soon, we’re afraid something will happen on the way. You have a great reputation in Sochi City and your territories, please… have pity on us commoners…”