< — Father and Son — > (1)
The time struck midnight. Unlike his usual appearance, the Duke reeked with the strong smell of blood.
Due to the murderous air surrounding his master and the smell of blood, Jerome was momentarily frightened then he masked his expression.
“Milady is asleep and the young master has arrived. There is nothing else of particular importance that needs to be reported.”
Jerome gave a brief report of what his master really wanted to know. Hugo simply nodded at him, turned around and walked away. As Jerome watched his master’s receding back, he once again asked the maid to prepare a bath for his master.
Then he turned around quietly and quickly chased after the group of knights that were leaving the castle.
One of the Knights stopped walking and waited until Jerome reached him.
“What’s wrong?” (Sir. Dean Heba)
Dean asked, puzzled as he looked at the somewhat serious look on Jerome’s face.
“Did something happen? The lord doesn’t usually return covered in blood…”
“Ahh, we met a group of thieves on our way back.”
“Thieves in the vicinity? I don’t think the security here is that lousy…”
“Tell me about it. I don’t know where they came from but they were robbing nearby peddlers and the lord discovered it.”
“…I see. Did His Grace punish them personally? It looks like they weren’t usual robbers.”
Instead of replying, Dean gave a wry smile. They weren’t professional robbers. It was unfortunate for those roaming beggars who were trying to steal and were caught.
Punishment? The lord didn’t ask for their crimes, he just blew their throats off on the spot. Thanks to that, the peddlers who were able to escape from their robbers were much more afraid than they were grateful.
Alhough they were robbers, there were young men among them that had not yet reached maturity but the Duke didn’t tolerate such charity. Rather than call it a punishment, it was more of a slaughter.
Dean used to think that he had gotten used to it but every time he witnessed the cruelty of the Duke, he would recoil. Just like today.
“So, you’re saying nothing else happened?” (Jerome)
“Yes. Pretty much.” (Sir. Dean Heba)
Dean shrugged. Apart from the death of a few thieves, there wasn’t much else that needed to be mentioned.
“When he was subduing barbarians, did his mood seem foul or…?” (Jerome)
‘Did his mood seem foul…’, Dean mulled those words over. When they were subduing barbarians, the manner in which his lord killed them off was extremely cruel. It was on an entirely different level from the way he killed enemies in the past war.
Only the seasoned knights who accompanied him to subdue barbarians were able to see this side of him. It was not a situation that could easily be described by ‘he was in a bad mood’ or what not.
Dean was unable to put it into words so he just shook his head.
“I understand. It must have been a tiring journey. Please rest.” (Jerome)
“I will. Farewell” (Dean)
* * *
Hugo spent a lot of time soaking in the bathtub, attempting to wash off the pungent smell of blood. However, the sickening bloody smell under his nose still didn’t disappear.
Before, such things never bothered him but when he saw Jerome’s hesitation to draw closer, the face of his wife came to mind.
When he imagined her seeing him and stepping back in fear, his heart sank.
‘I don’t want to show this to her.’
The moment he reached that conclusion, the feeling of blood that he’d never felt anything wrong with before suddenly felt disgusting.
‘An honorable noble? A mighty knight? What rubbish.’
When he stripped off that shell, he was nothing more than a hunter. A slaughterer who hunted humans.
Hugo knew of the madness that flowed within his blood. It was tenacious, urging him into that madness, for it wished to see rivers of blood.
If it were not for the past war, he would have probably become a notorious murderer. The dull feeling of a person’s neck flying off filled him with thrill, the smell of blood gave him a sense of liberation.
Even when he could see the desperation in the eyes of the people as they faced death, he didn’t feel any sort of guilt. He had never gotten any nightmares either.
For generations, the master of Taran was a mighty knight and a brilliant lord. The Taran lineage had a special bloodline that passed down superior physical abilities and intellect to their descendants, hence why the Taran family was so obsessed with preserving the purity of their bloodline.
According to Philip, Hugo was a successful product. However, Hugo had never felt proud of that fact.
[This cursed blood. I will gladly end it here.]
While performing solemnly at his bestowal ceremony, Hugo was inwardly grinding his teeth. He wanted to trample the cursed Taran bloodline and not leave any traces. He wanted to revel in delight as his dead ancestors ran amok in hell with anger.
‘If only that old geezer didn’t come with Damian.’
When Philip appeared with Damian, Hugo’s resolve to end his own lineage became all for naught.
* * *
After Hugo was done with his bath, he walked to his bedroom but stopped at the door, holding the door knob. After worrying for a while, he turned around and walked to his wife’s bedroom. After entering, it didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in her bedroom.
He walked towards her bed and for a while, he just stood, watching her sleeping figure. Although he was just looking at her, his heart felt somewhat strange. It was like his heart was sick because somehow, he found it difficult to just keep watching her.
He lifted up the blanket and slid in beside her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her soft body into his arms. He then buried his nose in her neck, breathing in her fruit-like fragrance. He closed his eyes and after a while, he could feel his sharpened nerves calm down.
Within Hugo, there were two sides that existed. The reason he could return to being the Duke of Taran as though nothing happened, after hunting and soaking himself with the blood of humans, was because he separated himself into two.
Perhaps a normal person would go insane but Hugo’s spirit was abnormally strong and tenacious. However, it took more time for him to completely return to being Duke Hugo after becoming Hunter Hugo than when it was the opposite way around. He needed more time to calm down the madness in his blood because it got excited by slaughter.
Surprisingly, this time, perhaps because of the warmth in his arms, he was calming down much faster than usual.
Now that the excitement from slaughter had subsided, the heat in his lower abdomen began to spread throughout his body. At first, he’d just wanted to embrace her and fall asleep but after feeling her warm temperature, her soft skin, and breathing in scent, he couldn’t stand it anymore.
‘I’ll just feel a little bit…’
He slipped his hand inside her nightwear while kissing her neck, then he carefully squeezed her breast and watched for her reaction.
‘Will she wake up?’
Betraying his expectations, she was still fast asleep.
‘Why is she sleeping so deeply?’
He grumbled. Her husband had been away for a long time, just returned, was kissing and touching her, yet she remained fast asleep. He was dissatisfied. He refused to hold back anymore.
He sat up on the bed and kicked the blanket covering her to the ground. He lowered himself to her legs, lifted up her slender ankle and kissed the tip of her foot.
He put her small foot into his mouth, licking it with his tongue then sucked and rolled his tongue around it like candy. He kissed and licked her ankle then he moved to her calf where he sucked on it, gave a light bite, and kissed it.
He didn’t know if she was going to wake up, even with all these caresses. He usually had a lot of work so he would retire to bed late and sometimes, he would wake her up after she had slept off first.
Usually, she would have woken up at this point but it looked like she was in quite the deep sleep today. But seeing her like this only triggered Hugo’s stubbornness. He his hands to her waist and stripped off her petite lace underwear.
He grabbed her thighs and spread them apart causing the mouth of her bashfully concealed petal to open slightly. His lower abdomen began to throb at this sight causing him to frown.
He had to suppress his throbbing member that was begging to enter.
He lowered his lips to the pale, tender flesh of her thigh, suckling till he made a mark. As he looked at the red hickey, he gave a smile of satisfaction. It wasn’t in an easy to find location so she wouldn’t be able complain.
‘When will she find this mark?
He really wanted to see her expression the moment she did. Most likely, she would panic, her face would go red and she wouldn’t know what to do. He looked up again only to find her still fast asleep.
“With this kind of sleep, you won’t even know when you’re carried away.”
‘Let’s see how far you can endure.’
He lowered his head again, kissing her hot spring that was hidden within her forest. He licked, suckled, swallowed and repeatedly swirled his tongue around it then he slid the tip of his tongue into her slightly open entrance.
As he licked her tender flesh and continuously ravaged her insides with his tongue, her dry spring began to flow.
*Abrupt ending. I know. Don’t hurt me. (ノдヽ)
*The words were so flowery this time hahaha.
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