After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Wolf and the Whip-Wielder

◎ That Prince whose whip hurts a lot ◎

Loddin the Demon-kin had just finished welcoming all the distinguished guests and hadn’t even had time to take a sip of water when he saw an attendant—the one supposed to be attending to Otillia Hughes—running toward him with a look of utter panic.

“What is it?” The smile on Loddin’s face faded. He wrinkled his nose as he spoke.

“M-Master… it’s bad…” The attendant was out of breath, his speech fragmented. “Her Highness… she’s furious. She says she’s going to make it impossible for our auction house to stay open…”

Loddin’s expression shifted instantly. He retracted the step he was about to take toward the lounge and turned to walk quickly toward the Princess’s private room. “What happened? Did you fail to serve her properly?”

It was common knowledge that the Princess had a foul temper, but her likes and dislikes were clear; as long as one hit the right marks, she was easy to please. She was a regular at the Iris Auction House, and aside from being annoyed once by a defiant white-haired slave, she had never lost her temper during previous visits under the auction house’s careful flattery.

Loddin had grown somewhat stout in recent years. Halfway there, he began to sweat. Listening to his subordinate describe the situation in the room, he gasped for air while internally cursing that foolish Princess. That a piece of ignorant, arrogant trash could be a Prince while he struggled for every step due to his birth—whenever he thought of this, a surge of resentment filled him.

He reached the door and put on his mask of flattery. If any other guest were angry, he would be cautious, but thinking of Otillia Hughes—who couldn’t even understand the simplest joke—he felt a subconscious trace of contempt.

“Your Highness, you—”

Just as he pushed the door open to peek in, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air. Loddin’s pupils shrank. He dodged instinctively as a long whip covered in barbs missed his head and slammed into the doorframe just half an inch from his cheek, splintering the wood. Had he not closed his eyes in time, the shards would have blinded him.

Before his anger could rise, Jiao Qingyin’s cold voice reached his ears: “Who gave you permission to dodge?”

Loddin looked over and saw the black-haired Princess holding the whip, looking at him expressionlessly. Her eyes were devoid of emotion; she looked at him as if looking at an object. He was used to her cold face, but at this moment, an inexplicable chill crept into his heart.

Something is different from usual… Loddin sensed a dangerous aura, but the situation allowed no time for reflection. He gritted his teeth and made his smile even more subservient.

He took a step forward and knelt on one knee. “Please appease your anger, Your Highness. I do not know where I have failed you. I am at your disposal for punishment, but please do not let your anger harm your health.”

He was extremely fawning, placing himself in a lowly position that left no room for fault—after all, Loddin had purchased a Baron’s title after becoming wealthy and, strictly speaking, did not need to kneel to Jiao Qingyin.

However, he waited and waited, but no “rise” or “it’s fine” came from her. She didn’t even scold him. The silence was eerie. No one in the room dared to speak before the Princess; the large room fell into a dead silence where even breathing was suppressed, making it impossible for Loddin to analyze the situation.

Finally, as his knee began to ache under his weight, Loddin spoke up: “Your Highness…”

Crack!

The whip lashed the floor beside him, leaving a fracture in the expensive tiles. One could only imagine what that would do to human flesh. Loddin shuddered violently, the scales on his back bristling. He lowered his head further, this time to hide his distorted expression.

The situation was wrong. He had to endure. It wasn’t until sweat was pouring off him and his body was swaying from the strain that Jiao Qingyin spoke indifferently.

“What about the other leg?” Her tone was casual. The handle of the whip tapped rhythmically against the table with a dull thud. “Is this your attitude toward confessing your guilt? Loddin, do you want your auction house to stay open or not?”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

“…” After a long silence, Loddin squeezed out a smile. “You are right.”

He bent his other knee and knelt fully with a heavy thud. He realized she was simply looking for trouble; nothing he said would matter. He had to let her vent her anger. As he knelt, he heard a low, soft chuckle from above.

Loddin’s mind went blank as humiliating memories flooded back. He hated these arbitrary, powerful high-borns more than anything; it was why he worked so hard to escape his class. Only he should be the one looking down, toyed with the fates of others—

“AAAHHH!!!”

A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his shoulder blade. Loddin let out a howl of agony and collapsed to the floor, unable to get up. His screams echoed in the silence, yet everyone else acted as if they were blind and deaf, their continued silence making his writhing form look like a clown’s performance.

When he finally caught his breath through the initial wave of pain, Loddin ignored his disheveled hair and fallen scales to look at the wound. In the next second, he froze.

The sensation of his flesh being torn alive was still there, yet no matter how he looked, there was no wound on his shoulder. His clothes weren’t even torn.

An illusion? Magic? It couldn’t be Otillia Hughes; he knew she had no talent. Was it her subordinates? The two knights behind her, or someone else—?!

No matter how good Loddin’s acting was, his eyes now radiated intense resentment. He crawled on the ground, his flesh trembling, scales open, his long, thin demon tail even popping out in his distress.

The tapping of the whip handle stopped. Jiao Qingyin narrowed her eyes. “What kind of look is that?”

“I—AGH!!”

Another wave of agony. The pain seemed to come from inside his body, like a maggot burrowing into his spinal cord. Loddin abandoned all dignity instantly, screaming for mercy. “My Lady! Your Highness! Please spare me—!”

Nameless, lying on the soft velvet seat, flicked her ear.

A year ago, she had been taken in by an old commoner woman, staying at her house to help with chores. Back then, though life was hard, it wasn’t miserable. Until one day, people from the Iris Auction House came to their village seeking “suitable” goods. Her peace was shattered.

Because of her childhood, Nameless was good at escaping. But seeing them turn their weapons toward the unarmed old woman after getting news of her location, she had hesitated and then walked out voluntarily.

She remembered the emotions in the villagers’ eyes as she was led away in chains. Resentment, fear, relief… to them, she was just a quiet, strange girl. Trading her for the peace of the whole village was the best deal possible. Perhaps the old woman had been sad to see her go, but Nameless never had the chance to find out.

She was brought before Loddin, and the first thing he said was—”She should fetch a good price.”

She had only spent a week at the Iris Auction House, but in that week, she gained a body full of scars and witnessed countless tragedies. The blood and tears of those around her were still vivid in her mind.

Nameless remembered the people there screaming the exact same words Loddin was screaming now.

—”Please spare me.”

Nameless shifted her paw, hiding the tiny trace of elemental power that hadn’t yet dissipated from her claws. Loddin hadn’t spared those people back then, just as she wouldn’t spare Loddin now.