Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 24 - Spite

Van was then led to the dining table by Rika, feeling dizzy and weary. 

'To think... I'd grow this weak... from crying too much... They really do know my weaknesses, huh...?' He thought, managing a weak chuckle as he sat down, a juicy steak placed before his groggy eyes.

"Are you... not eating with me...?" he asked weakly, noticing that Rika and Mika were just sitting beside him, watching intently without touching their food. His voice faded as his body felt heavier with each passing moment.

"No, we..."

"-are not hungry," they muttered reluctantly after exchanging a glance.

"I see... Then... I'll help myself..." he murmured, too weak to even lift his head. He gingerly picked up the fork and knife, cut a piece from the steak, and looked at it.

'It smells so good... Has anyone ever done something like this for me...?' he wondered. Then, a memory flashed through his mind—dining with Varlog and his family at his and his wife's 582nd anniversary.

"Ha... Ha..." He chuckled softly before eating the piece, savoring every chew and swallowing it, smiling at the memory.

'Why... Did I forget... I... t...'

After swallowing, he no longer had the strength to hold himself up and slumped onto the table. 'Haah... So... Tired...' he thought as his vision blurred.

Then, from the shadows, a snickering figure emerged.

"Hehehe... Good job..." A fat man appeared from behind Rika and Mika as they looked downward, a blank expression on their faces. "My little kittens~..." he leered.

'The... Fuck...' Van thought, his consciousness fading entirely.

Indeed, no matter how strong one is, vulnerability remains.

Van awoke groggily, a moment seeming to stretch. The first thing he saw was a dark circle drawn around his body in a red room. As he lifted his gaze, he noticed he was bound by black metal chains that dangled from the ceiling, his body forced into a kneeling position. Odd symbols and rune markings were inscribed all over his skin.

While Van was not deeply versed in the Arcane, he recognized these markings for what they were—potent magical and physical seals.

With his mind still clearing from the fog of unconsciousness, Van scanned his surroundings. He spotted a muscular orc, shirtless with a distinctive mark on his chest, standing nearby, eyeing him with a piercing gaze.

Van understood immediately—the mark was a slave mark. He met the orc's menacing look with a calm, weary gaze of his own, noting the slave branding iron staff in his hand.

"Oh, awake are we~... Mr. Hellix.." A lecherous voice echoed through the room from beside him. Van turned his head to see a corpulent man with a mustache seated on a plush velvet chair. Flanking him were Rika and Mika, scantily clad from the waist up, attending to him with feline-like affection, licking at his throat and face.

Van observed the scene impassively, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, like what you see, Mr. Hellix?" He taunted as he slammed his palms onto the butts of the two women, pulling them closer to himself. Van, however, offered no reaction.

The fat man's expression turned to one of frustration upon noticing Van's indifference. "Who are you?" Van asked calmly, his voice still hoarse from fainting.

"Hmph. I suppose introductions are in order. I am Salem Dyke... The Royal Capital's greatest Runemaster... And Shadow Lord," he proclaimed proudly, rising from his seat and approaching Van with a sneer.

'Shadow Lord... That explains their affiliation to him, I suppose,' Van reasoned internally.

"And right now," Salem continued, standing so close that his crotch was almost in Van's face—a show of blatant disrespect. Van continued to gaze into the man's eyes, his expression unchanging and blank.

"...you are going to be my personal slave. After Mutah here brands you with a high-quality slave mark that not even a mighty Dragon as Arutol himself could resist..."

"I see. I suppose those runes around me are to ensure that I can't resist or escape, huh?" Van commented dryly.

Salem clicked his tongue at Van's ambivalent response. "...I understand where your sense of assurance comes from, Mr. Hellix. We had you appraised by my trusted associate. Your high level of 207 and peak stats of 999 in Vigor, Strength, and Resistance are indeed terrifying—it actually killed the appraiser when he assessed your stats solely due to the magic it required." Salem explained.