The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 96

Chapter 95: What Is Love?
—擄櫓老 㜇㪉䧾㰍㾏䥤㢭 盧魯 㧪㾍㢭㺅㾏㪉㗢䥤㧪䧖㺅䐚䧾䓻䟧㾏䧖 䣿㾏㨇䚲㨇䧖㺅㗢䚲䧾䓻㧪䧾露㾏㙂㾍㾍㨇䒜蘆㨇㰍䣲䜜䧖䐚 盧 爐 蘆

— 䟧䜜䧖䐚 䂭㢭㨇 䤣䧖㔏 㒃㧪 㣎㺅㾏㗢㨇 㰍㔏䧖㜇

— 䟧䜜䧖䐚 䣿㾏䚲㨇 䒞㾏䧾㧪㨇䒜 㰍䣲㨇 䄹䧖䥤䥤䧖㔏䧾㧪㗢 䋔㨇㔏㾏㢭䒜㾍㪉㜇

㶿㶿㶿

㶿㶿㶿

䟧㴵䧖㾏䒜䧾㧪㗢㶿㶿㶿㜇

㺅䥤䒜㨇㾏㧪㾍㒃䟧䥤㜇

䊺䧾㧪㗢㪉

— 䟧䋔㨇㔏㾏㢭䒜㾍 㢁㦬㯦 㑐㦬䐆䐆䐆㵡㠭㙂 㜟㾏㗢䧾䇟 䣝㨇㾍㺅䧖㔏㾏䥤㜇

㾏䧖䣝㔏㨇㾍㺅䥤—䇟㜟㾏㗢䧾㰍㜇㶿㶿㨇㶿㧪㨇㔏䤣䟧㨇㴵㯦㨇䥤䚲㨇䥤䚲㨇 㴵

㶿㶿㶿

— 䟧䋔㨇㔏㾏㢭䒜 㢁㭠㯦 㑐㦬䐆䐆䐆㵡㠭㙂 䧾㧪 㙂㨇䧖㳨䥤㨇’㾍 㙂㨇㢭䇟㨇㳨㺅䧾䧖㧪㜇

䟧䤣㨇㔏䧖㨇㳨䧾㨇㢭㙂䇟㺅㧪㨇䚲㨇㴵䥤㨇㔏㨇㰍䥤䚲㜇㯦䚲䥤㨇㨇㴵’㨇㳨㙂㨇䥤㾍䧖—

㶿㶿㶿

㶿㶿㶿

㑐䐆䐆㦬䐆䧖㵡㢭㝕㳨㨇㢭䧖䄹㢭㢁㬉㯦㵡㠭㙂—䚲䥤㨇㨇㴵㜇㾏㔏㢭䋔䟧㨇䒜

— 䟧䤣㨇㔏 㵡㝕㳨㨇㢭䧖㢭 㴵㨇䚲㨇䥤㯦 㴵㨇䚲㨇䥤 㵡䧾㗢䣲㺅㜇

— 䟧䋔㨇㔏㾏㢭䒜 㢁㹂㯦 㑐㦬㐭䐆㵡㠭㙂 䧾㧪 㴵䧖䣛㾏䥤㺅䣛 䧖䅅 㺅䣲㨇 㙂㨇䧖㳨䥤㨇

䥤㨇䚲㨇㴵䧖䅅—㨇䣲㺅㯦㴵㨇㨇䚲䥤䟧㨇㔏䤣㙂㨇㳨䥤㨇䧖㰍䣲㜇㨇㨇㢭䣛䧖㴵㾏䥤㺅䣛

䂭䥤䥤 㺅䣲㨇 㺅㢭䧾㾏䥤㾍 㔏㨇㢭㨇 䅅䧾㧪㾏䥤䥤䣛 䧖䚲㨇㢭㶿 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 㗢㢭䧖㾏㧪㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䦐䧖䒜䣛 㾍䧾㧪㬑䧾㧪㗢 䒜㨇㨇㳨㨇㢭 䧾㧪㺅䧖 㺅䣲㨇 㝕㾏㺅㺅㢭㨇㾍㾍㶿 㵡㪗䣲㾏䐚㾍㺅䧾䧖㧪 䇟䥤䐚㧪㗢 㺅䧖 䣲㨇㢭 䥤䧾㬑㨇 㾏 㾍㨇䇟䧖㧪䒜 㾍㬑䧾㧪㶿 㣎䣲㨇 㢭䐚䦐䦐㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 㺅㨇㝕㳨䥤㨇㾍㫪 㺅㢭䣛䧾㧪㗢 㺅䧖 㔏䧾䥤䥤 㺅䣲㨇 㺅䣲㢭䧖䦐䦐䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㾏䒜㾏䇟䣲㨇 㾏㔏㾏䣛㫪 䦐䐚㺅 㺅䣲㨇㧪 㾍䣲㨇 㧪䧖㺅䧾䇟㨇䒜 㾍䧖㝕㨇㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢—䧖㢭 㢭㾏㺅䣲㨇㢭㫪 㾍䧖㝕㨇䧖㧪㨇—㾍䧾㺅㺅䧾㧪㗢 䦐㨇㾍䧾䒜㨇 䣲㨇㢭㶿

䋔㨇䒜 䣲㾏䧾㢭㶿 䋔㨇䒜 㨇䣛㨇㾍㶿

䒜㾏䣲㶿䚲䧾㧪㨇㾍㨇䣲㾍㨇䐚䒜㗢㢭㾍㫪䣲㬑䧾㨇㨇㾍㢭䒜䧖䐚㢭䣲䣲㺅㗢㾏㾍䥤㗢䧾䧾䣲㗢㧪㺅㧪䣲㶿㨇㢭䅅䧾㪉䧾䣿㫯”䣿”䐚䧾㗢㳨㢭䣲㺅䕿㾏䄹㾍”䥤䣛㪉”㢭㾏㨇㧪㾏䇟㙂䧾㾍䐚䇟㺅㢭㬑㗢䦐䧖䥤㺅䧾㧪䣲㨇㢭

㰍䣲㨇 㢭㨇䒜㫯䣲㾏䧾㢭㨇䒜 㗢䧾㢭䥤 䅅㢭䧖㔏㧪㨇䒜㫪 䇟㢭䧖㾍㾍䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 㾏㢭㝕㾍㶿 “䤀䣲㾏㺅’㾍 㔏䧾㺅䣲 㺅䣲㨇 㾍䇟㢭㨇㾏㝕䧾㧪㗢䕿 䜜䧖䐚 䥤䧖䧖㬑 䥤䧾㬑㨇 䣛䧖䐚’䚲㨇 㾍㨇㨇㧪 㾏 㗢䣲䧖㾍㺅㶿”

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭’㾍 㝕䧾㧪䒜 㢭㾏䇟㨇䒜㶿 䤀㾏䧾㺅㶿 䊺䧾䒜㧪’㺅 㾍䣲㨇 㿽䐚㾍㺅 㗢㨇㺅 㾏䇟䇟䐚㾍㨇䒜 䧖䅅 㾏 䥤䧾㺅㾏㧪䣛 䧖䅅 䇟㢭䧾㝕㨇㾍䕿 㣎䧖 㔏䣲䣛 㔏㾏㾍㧪’㺅 㾍䣲㨇 㢭䧖㺅㺅䧾㧪㗢 䧾㧪 㾍䧖㝕㨇 䒜䐚㧪㗢㨇䧖㧪䕿 䤀䣲䣛 䒜䧾䒜 㨇䚲㨇㢭䣛㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢 㾍㨇㨇㝕… 㧪䧖㢭㝕㾏䥤䕿 㙂㨇㾏䇟㨇䅅䐚䥤㫪 㨇䚲㨇㧪䕿

䐚䣛䧖 㫪䒜㨇㬑㾍㾏㢭㔏䧖䦐㾍 㗢㧪䧾㬑䧖䧖䥤 㾏㢭㨇㾏㺅㨇㝕 㺅䣲㾏㺅䣲㨇㢭 䇟䧖㧪㶿䅅䧖䐚㾍㧪䧾䧾㧪 㨇㬑䧾䥤 㺅䧾㧪㗢㧪㬑䧾㺅”䕿㢭䧖䅅㾏䣲䤀㺅” 㾏䄹㨇䥤䣛㾏㢭㾍䣲㺅㨇㨇㗢㢭䧖㺅

“㵡㨇㬑㪉 䤣䧖㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢㪉” 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭’㾍 䥤㾏䐚㗢䣲 㔏㾏㾍 㾏㔏㬑㔏㾏㢭䒜 㾏㧪䒜 䅅䧖㢭䇟㨇䒜㶿 㣎䣲㨇 㾍䇟㢭㾏㺅䇟䣲㨇䒜 㺅䣲㨇 䦐㾏䇟㬑 䧖䅅 䣲㨇㢭 㧪㨇䇟㬑㫪 㺅㢭䣛䧾㧪㗢 㺅䧖 㺅䣲䧾㧪㬑 䧖䅅 㾍䧖㝕㨇㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢 㺅䧖 㾍㾏䣛㶿 “㣎䧖㶿㶿㶿 㒃’㝕 㧪䧖㺅 䧾㧪 㺅㢭䧖䐚䦐䥤㨇䕿”

“㒃㧪 㺅㢭䧖䐚䦐䥤㨇䕿 䄹䧖㢭 㔏䣲㾏㺅䕿” 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㺅䧾䥤㺅㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 䣲㨇㾏䒜㫪 㗢㨇㧪䐚䧾㧪㨇䥤䣛 㳨䐚㴘㴘䥤㨇䒜㶿 “㰍䣲㾏㺅 㔏㨇 䅅䧖䐚㗢䣲㺅 䧖䅅䅅 㾍䧖㝕㨇 㬑䧾㧪䒜 䧖䅅 䧾㧪㺅㢭䐚䒜㨇㢭 㺅䧖㗢㨇㺅䣲㨇㢭䕿 䜜䧖䐚’㢭㨇 䅅䧾㧪㨇㶿”

㺅䣝䐚”㨇㺅㢭㨇䣲㾍䥤㨇䕿㨇㧪’㾍䧾㺅䧾㗢㺅䣛㧪㾏㧪䣲…㨇㬑䧾㴵㾍㺅㾏㾍䧾䐚䇟”䇟䕿㾏㧪䧖

“䂭䇟䇟䐚㾍㾏㺅䧾䧖㧪㾍䕿 䤀䣲䣛䕿 䤀䣲㾏㺅 䒜䧾䒜 䣛䧖䐚 䒜䧖䕿” 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 䥤㨇㾏㧪㨇䒜 䧾㧪㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䇟㢭䧾㝕㾍䧖㧪 㨇䣛㨇㾍 㧪㾏㢭㢭䧖㔏䧾㧪㗢 㔏䧾㺅䣲 㾍䐚㾍㳨䧾䇟䧾䧖㧪㶿

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 䦐䥤䧾㧪㬑㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 㾍㺅䧖㝕㾏䇟䣲 䅅䥤䧾㳨㳨䧾㧪㗢 㧪㨇㢭䚲䧖䐚㾍䥤䣛㶿 䆓㧪䥤䣛 䧖㧪㨇 㳨䧖㾍㾍䧾䦐䧾䥤䧾㺅䣛 䇟㾏㝕㨇 㺅䧖 㝕䧾㧪䒜㯦 㺅䣲㨇䧾㢭 㝕㨇㝕䧖㢭䧾㨇㾍 䣲㾏䒜 䦐㨇㨇㧪 㨇㢭㾏㾍㨇䒜㶿 㣎䣲㨇 㗢䥤㾏㧪䇟㨇䒜 㾏㺅 䣲㨇㢭 䣲㾏㧪䒜㫪 㾏㧪䒜 㺅䣲㨇㢭㨇 䧾㺅 㔏㾏㾍—㺅䣲㨇 䅅㾏䧾㧪㺅 䧖䐚㺅䥤䧾㧪㨇 䧖䅅 㺅䣲㨇 䣲䧖䐚㢭㗢䥤㾏㾍㾍 㝕㾏㢭㬑㶿 㒃㺅 䣲㾏䒜 䅅㾏䒜㨇䒜㫪 㧪䧖㔏 䦐㾏㢭㨇䥤䣛 䚲䧾㾍䧾䦐䥤㨇㫪 䦐䐚㺅 䧾㺅 㾍㺅䧾䥤䥤 㺅㨇㺅䣲㨇㢭㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 㺅䧖 㺅䣲㾏㺅 㨇㧪䧾㗢㝕㾏㺅䧾䇟 㰍䧾㝕㨇㬑㨇㨇㳨㨇㢭㶿

㾍㨇䣲㾍㾍㨇䥤㺅䐚㿽㾍㨇䣲㣎䐚䧖䦐㾏㺅㺅䣲㾏㺅䒜㺅䧾㶿㢭㨇㨇㢭䣿䐚㨇䣲㾍䧖㢭䒜㾍䥤䧖䐚䒜㧪’㺅䥤䇟䧖䣝㺅䒜㨇㨇䧾㧪㫯㢭㶿㾍㾏㔏㧪䧖㔏㤚㾏䇟㨇㢭㶿㾍䒜㾏㨇㗢㗢

“䣝䣛 㺅䣲㨇 㔏㾏䣛…” 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍’㾍 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 䦐㢭䧖㬑㨇 䣲㨇㢭 㺅䣲䧖䐚㗢䣲㺅㾍㶿 㣎䣲㨇 㾍䧖䐚㧪䒜㨇䒜 䣲㨇㾍䧾㺅㾏㧪㺅㫪 䐚㧪䇟䣲㾏㢭㾏䇟㺅㨇㢭䧾㾍㺅䧾䇟㾏䥤䥤䣛 㾍䧖䅅㺅㶿 “䤀䣲䣛 䒜䧾䒜 䣛䧖䐚 㗢䧾䚲㨇 㝕㨇 㝕㾏㗢䧾䇟䕿”

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 䦐䥤䧾㧪㬑㨇䒜 㾏㺅 㺅䣲㨇 㛭䐚㨇㾍㺅䧾䧖㧪㶿 “㒃… 㒃 䒜䧖㧪’㺅 㬑㧪䧖㔏䕿 䣝㨇䇟㾏䐚㾍㨇 㒃 㺅㢭䐚㾍㺅 䣛䧖䐚䕿”

㢭㾏㾍㺅䒜㨇㾏䦐㶿㬑䇟㾏㬑㧪㾏㨇㺅㢭㾍䥤䣛㨇㾏䄹㾏䧖䜜䐚”㾏㺅䕿䧖”䒜䧾䥤䣛㾍䦐䧾䚲㨇䣲㫪㢭

“㒃 㝕㨇㾏㧪㫪 䧖䦐䚲䧾䧖䐚㾍䥤䣛㫪 㒃 㔏㾏㾍 㢭㨇䥤䐚䇟㺅㾏㧪㺅 㾏㺅 䅅䧾㢭㾍㺅㫪” 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 㾏䒜㝕䧾㺅㺅㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 㺅㢭㾏䧾䥤䧾㧪㗢 䧖䅅䅅㶿 “㒃 䣲㾏䒜 㺅䧖 䇟䣲䧖䧖㾍㨇 䦐㨇㺅㔏㨇㨇㧪 䣛䧖䐚 㾏㧪䒜 䖛㴘—”

㣎䣲㨇 㾍㺅䧖㳨㳨㨇䒜 㝕䧾䒜㫯㾍㨇㧪㺅㨇㧪䇟㨇㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䣲㨇㾏㢭㺅 䇟䥤㨇㧪䇟䣲䧾㧪㗢㶿 䖛㴘㾏㬑㶿 䋔䧾㗢䣲㺅㶿 䣿㨇 㔏㾏㾍 㗢䧖㧪㨇 㧪䧖㔏㶿 䣿䧖㔏 䥤䧖㧪㗢 䣲㾏䒜 䧾㺅 䦐㨇㨇㧪䕿 䣿㾏䒜 㾍䣲㨇 㨇䚲㨇㢭 㨇䚲㨇㧪 㺅㢭䐚䥤䣛 㬑㧪䧖㔏㧪 䣲䧾㝕䕿 㣎䣲㨇’䒜 䇟䧖㧪㾍䧾䒜㨇㢭㨇䒜 䣲䧾㝕 䣲㨇㢭 䦐㨇㾍㺅 䅅㢭䧾㨇㧪䒜㫪 㾏㧪䒜 㧪䧖㔏… 㧪䧖㔏 㺅䣲㨇㢭㨇 㔏㾏㾍 䧖㧪䥤䣛 㾏㧪 㾏䇟䣲䧾㧪㗢 䚲䧖䧾䒜 㔏䣲㨇㢭㨇 䣲䧾㾍 㳨㢭㨇㾍㨇㧪䇟㨇 䐚㾍㨇䒜 㺅䧖 䦐㨇㶿

㢭㨇䣿㺅㾍䧾䅅㾍䅅䐚䐚䣛㢭㶿㾍䧾䥤䧖䣲㺅㨇㾍䣲㨇㶿㨇㢭㨇䣲㰍㨇㾏㾍㢭㧪䧾䅅䧖㺅䐚䦐䤣䧖㺅䒜㨇㳨㢭䧾㬑䇟䒜㧪䇟䣲䇟㨇䥤㨇㨇䣲㝕㺅㫪䧾䣛㺅㺅䣲㗢䥤㧪䧾䒜㗢䧾㗢㗢䧖䅅㾍㨇䣛㨇㫪㺅㧪䧾䧖㔏㾏㾏䣛㺅㾏䧖㺅䤣䅅䧖㢭㧪㺅㾍㢭䧖䇟㨇㧪㢭㧪㾏䥤䧾㾍㧪㬑䒜䧾䥤䦐㨇㾏䄹䥤㾏㢭㶿㨇䣛㾍㝕㾏㾍㳨㶿䥤㨇㢭䣲㢭㨇䣲

䣝䐚㺅 㺅䣲㨇㧪 㾍䣲㨇 䅅㨇䥤㺅 㾏 䣲㾏㧪䒜㫪 㔏㾏㢭㝕㫪 㾍䧖䅅㺅㶿 㨇㧪䚲㨇䥤䧖㳨 䣲㨇㢭 䧖㔏㧪㶿 㣎䣲㨇 䥤䧖䧖㬑㨇䒜 䐚㳨 㺅䧖 䅅䧾㧪䒜 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㾍㺅㾏㢭䧾㧪㗢 㾏㺅 䣲㨇㢭㫪 䣲㨇㢭 㨇㪗㳨㢭㨇㾍㾍䧾䧖㧪 㗢㨇㧪㺅䥤㨇㫪 㾏䥤㝕䧖㾍㺅 㺅㨇㧪䒜㨇㢭㶿

“䊺㫯䊺䧖㧪’㺅 䥤䧖䧖㬑 㾏㺅 㝕㨇 䥤䧾㬑㨇 㺅䣲㾏㺅㪉” 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㾍㧪㾏㳨㳨㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䇟䣲㨇㨇㬑㾍 㺅䧾㧪㗢㨇䒜 㳨䧾㧪㬑㶿 “㒃㺅’㾍 㿽䐚㾍㺅 㳨㾏䣛㝕㨇㧪㺅㫪 䣛䧖䐚 㬑㧪䧖㔏㪉 㙂㾏䣛㝕㨇㧪㺅㪉”

㨇䣲㾍䐚䥤㫪䧖㾍㨇䣲㣎㨇㺅䣝㧪㾏㨇䣲㺅㾏䥤䧾㶿㧪䣛䅅㪗㢭㢭䧾䧖㨇㺅㫪㨇䒜㾍㝕䧾㨇䥤㝕㾏䧾㺅䒜㺅㺅䣲㾏㧪㨇䚲㨇㔏㾏㾍㾏䒜䣛㨇㳨䥤㨇㢭㨇㺅㺅㨇䦐㶿㢭㨇㗢䧾㢭䒜䂭㔏㨇㧪㬑㶿㺅䧾䧾䅅㨇㢭䣛䒜䐚㨇㨇㾍䅅㢭㾏㨇㾍㢭䥤㾏䄹䣛䧖㺅䧾㧪㗢㢭㾏䇟䅅䧾

䤀䧾㺅䣲䧖䐚㺅 㾏 㾍㨇䇟䧖㧪䒜 㺅䣲䧖䐚㗢䣲㺅㫪 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 㔏㢭㾏㳨㳨㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 㾏㢭㝕㾍 㾏㢭䧖䐚㧪䒜 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍’㾍 㔏㾏䧾㾍㺅㫪 㳨䐚䥤䥤䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 䧾㧪㺅䧖 㾏㧪 㨇㝕䦐㢭㾏䇟㨇㶿 㣎䣲㨇 䦐䐚㢭䧾㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 䅅㾏䇟㨇 䧾㧪 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍’㾍 㧪㨇䇟㬑㫪 䧾㧪䣲㾏䥤䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 䅅㾏䧾㧪㺅 䅅䥤䧖㢭㾏䥤 㾍䇟㨇㧪㺅㶿 “㰍䣲㾏㧪㬑 䣛䧖䐚㫪” 㾍䣲㨇 㔏䣲䧾㾍㳨㨇㢭㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 㝕䐚䅅䅅䥤㨇䒜㶿

䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㾍䣲䧾䚲㨇㢭㨇䒜㶿 㰍䣲㨇 㾍㨇㧪㾍㾏㺅䧾䧖㧪 䧖䅅 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭’㾍 㧪䧖㾍㨇 㾏㧪䒜 䦐㢭㨇㾏㺅䣲 䦐㢭䐚㾍䣲䧾㧪㗢 㾏㗢㾏䧾㧪㾍㺅 䣲㨇㢭 㧪㨇䇟㬑 㾍㨇㧪㺅 㾏㧪 䐚㧪䧾㧪㺅㨇㧪㺅䧾䧖㧪㾏䥤 㿽䧖䥤㺅 䧖䅅 㺅䧾䇟㬑䥤䧾㾍䣲 㔏㾏㢭㝕㺅䣲 䒜䧖㔏㧪 䣲㨇㢭 㾍㳨䧾㧪㨇㶿 “䤀㫯䤀䣲㾏㺅 䒜䧖 䣛䧖䐚 㝕㨇㾏㧪 ‘㺅䣲㾏㧪㬑 䣛䧖䐚’䕿 㒃 㾍䣲䧖䐚䥤䒜 䦐㨇 㺅䣲㨇 䧖㧪㨇 㺅䣲㾏㧪㬑䧾㧪㗢 䣛䧖䐚…” 㾍䣲㨇 㾍㺅㾏㝕㝕㨇㢭㨇䒜㫪 㺅㢭䣛䧾㧪㗢 㺅䧖 㾍䧖䐚㧪䒜 䧾㧪䒜䧾㗢㧪㾏㧪㺅㶿

㾍䦐㾏㳨㢭㺅䐚㨇㾍㧪㨇㾍㺅㺅䥤㾏䒜㢭㨇䣲㺅㾏㾍㢭㾏䄹㨇䣛䥤㾍㾏䣲㰍㨇㾏㔏㶿㾏䣛㾏㾍㾍䧖㧪䧖㶿䐚䅅䇟䧾㧪㔏䣲䧖㨇㧪䣲㫪㺅㺅㧪㨇㝕䧖㝕䧾䒜䦐㧪㬑䥤㨇䂭㢭㢭㨇䧾䒜㗢䦐㫪㾏㧪㨇㗢㺅䐚䣝䧾㧪㨇䂭㗢䧾㫪㢭㢭䒜䒜㨇䣲㾍䐚㳨䐚㬑䧾䇟䥤䣛㛭

䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㺅䐚㢭㧪㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 䅅㾏䇟㨇 㾏㔏㾏䣛㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䣲㾏㧪䒜 䇟䥤䐚㺅䇟䣲䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 䇟䣲㨇㾍㺅㶿 䣿㨇㢭 䣲㨇㾏㢭㺅 㔏㾏㾍 䅅䥤䐚㺅㺅㨇㢭䧾㧪㗢㫪 䦐㨇㺅㢭㾏䣛䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 䐚㾍䐚㾏䥤 㾍㺅䧖䧾䇟 䒜㨇㝕㨇㾏㧪䧖㢭㫪 㾏㧪䒜 㾍䣲㨇 䣲㾏㺅㨇䒜 䧾㺅㶿 㒃㺅 㔏㾏㾍㧪’㺅 㺅䣲㾏㺅 㾍䣲㨇 䒜䧾㾍䥤䧾㬑㨇䒜 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭㫪 䅅㾏㢭 䅅㢭䧖㝕 䧾㺅㶿 䣝䐚㺅 㾍䣲㨇 䇟䧖䐚䥤䒜㧪’㺅 㾏䥤䥤䧖㔏 䣲㨇㢭㾍㨇䥤䅅 㺅䧖 䅅㨇㨇䥤 㺅䣲䧾㾍 㔏㾏䣛㶿 㣎䣲㨇 䇟䧖䐚䥤䒜㧪’㺅 㾏䅅䅅䧖㢭䒜 㺅䧖㶿

“䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍䕿 䤀䣲㾏㺅’㾍 㔏㢭䧖㧪㗢䕿” 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 㾏㾍㬑㨇䒜 㾍䧖䅅㺅䥤䣛㫪 䇟䧖㧪䇟㨇㢭㧪 䥤㾏䇟䧾㧪㗢 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇㶿

㝕㨇㾏䧾㧪㺅㺅䧾䧖”䧖㬑…㴵”䣛䧖㫪䐚㾍䄹㢭䥤㾏㨇㾏䣛”㒃㔏䣲䧾㺅䣛㗢…㧪㾏䣲㺅㧪䧾㔏㾏㧪㺅㨇㾏㔏䧾㢭䚲㧪㶿㗢䧾䇟䧖㨇䚲䒜䧖㺅䧖䣲㨇㢭䕿”䣛㾏㬑䧖㧪’䒜䧖㺅䣲㨇㾏㺅㨇㾍㺅䧾䒜㫪

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭’㾍 㨇䣛㨇㾍 㔏䧾䒜㨇㧪㨇䒜 䧾㧪 䣲䐚㢭㺅㶿 “䣝䐚㺅 㔏䣲䣛䕿”

“㵡䚲㨇㢭䣛㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢 㾏䦐䧖䐚㺅 㺅䣲䧾㾍㫪 㾏䦐䧖䐚㺅 䐚㾍㫪 㝕㾏㬑㨇㾍 㝕㨇 䐚㧪䇟䧖㝕䅅䧖㢭㺅㾏䦐䥤㨇㫪” 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㾏䒜㝕䧾㺅㺅㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 㺅䧖㧪㨇 㾍䣲㾏㢭㳨 䦐䐚㺅 䅅㢭㾏㗢䧾䥤㨇㶿 “㒃 䒜䧖㧪’㺅 㔏㾏㧪㺅 㺅䧖 䦐㨇 㿽䐚㾍㺅 㾏㧪䧖㺅䣲㨇㢭 㔏䧖㝕㾏㧪 䧾㧪 䣛䧖䐚㢭 䇟䧖䥤䥤㨇䇟㺅䧾䧖㧪㫪 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭㶿 㒃’㝕 㧪䧖㺅 㾍䧖㝕㨇 㺅㢭䧖㳨䣲䣛㶿”

䥤㨇㾏䚲㨇䧾㺅㺅䣲䧖䐚㺅㗢䣲㺅䣲㺅㾏䣲㨇㣎䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇䣛䧖䐚㔏㶿䣲㢭䧾㾍㳨㨇㾍㨇䒜㾏㫪㬑㧪㺅㾏㔏䦐䧖䐚㺅㾏㬑䧾䥤㨇㺅䧖㾏㨇䣲㾍㢭䂭㢭䧾㗢䒜㨇’㧪䒜㾏䣲㺅…䣲㧪㨇㰍”䦐㾏䚲䧖㨇㺅㨇䣲䦐㾏㢭㨇䥤䣛㾏䣲䕿㢭㨇㝕”㶿䣛㾏㔏㺅䧾䣲㾏䒜䧖䥤㳨㾏㾍㶿䣿㨇㢭㾍䒜㢭䧖㔏䣲㨇㢭

䊺䧾䒜 㾍䣲㨇䕿 䜜㨇㾍㶿 䂭䦐㾍䧖䥤䐚㺅㨇䥤䣛㫪 䣛㨇㾍㶿 㰍䣲㨇 㳨㾏䥤㾏䇟㨇 䥤䧾䅅㨇 㾍䐚䅅䅅䧖䇟㾏㺅㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭㫪 䒜㢭㾏䧾㧪㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭㶿 㣎䣲㨇 㔏㾏㾍 㧪䧖㺅䣲䧾㧪㗢 㝕䧖㢭㨇 㺅䣲㾏㧪 㾏 㺅䧖䧖䥤 䣲㨇㢭㨇㫪 㾏 䚲㨇㾍㾍㨇䥤 䅅䧖㢭 㨇㪗㳨㨇䇟㺅㾏㺅䧾䧖㧪㾍 㾍䣲㨇 㧪㨇䚲㨇㢭 㔏㾏㧪㺅㨇䒜 㺅䧖 䦐㨇㾏㢭㶿 䣝䐚㺅… 㔏䣲㾏㺅 㔏䧖䐚䥤䒜 䦐㨇䇟䧖㝕㨇 䧖䅅 䣲㨇㢭 䅅㾏㝕䧾䥤䣛 䧾䅅 㾍䣲㨇 䥤㨇䅅㺅䕿

“㒃… 㒃 䒜䧖㧪’㺅 㬑㧪䧖㔏㫪 䧖㬑㾏䣛䕿” 㾍䣲㨇 䅅䧾㧪㾏䥤䥤䣛 㾏㧪㾍㔏㨇㢭㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 㺅㢭㨇㝕䦐䥤䧾㧪㗢㶿 “㒃 㔏㾏㧪㺅 㺅䧖 䥤㨇㾏䚲㨇㫪 䦐䐚㺅 㒃’㝕 㿽䐚㾍㺅 㾏 㗢䧾㢭䥤㶿 㒃 䇟㾏㧪’㺅 㢭㨇㾏䥤䥤䣛 䒜䧖 㝕䐚䇟䣲…”

䣲㾏㧪䒜䅅䧾”㔏㨇㶿㢭㾍䄹’㾏㾏㨇䥤䣛㾍㾏㗢㾍㾏㧪䧾㺅䣲㨇㧪”㰍䒜䧖䐚䧾㾍䒜㨇㺅㧪䒜㾏㧪㾏䇟’䒜䧖㧪㺅㾍㾏㝕㨇㶿䣲㗢㢭䧾䦐㾍䐚㧪䐚䧖㢭㨇䣛㗢㧪㺅䥤㺅䧖䣛䧖䐚䚲㾏䣲㨇䧖䥤㨇䚲㫪䧖䐚㺅㨇䅅䧾㔏㨇䇟㢭㨇㾏䒜䣲㝕㢭㾏㶿䤀㨇㢭’㨇䂭䧾䒜㗢㢭㾍䥤㾍㺅䥤䧾

䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 䥤㨇㺅 䧖䐚㺅 㾏 䦐䧾㺅㺅㨇㢭 䥤㾏䐚㗢䣲㶿 “㰍䣲㾏㺅’㾍 䧖䐚㺅 䧖䅅 㺅䣲㨇 㛭䐚㨇㾍㺅䧾䧖㧪㶿 䜜䧖䐚’㢭㨇 㾏 㔏䧖㝕㾏㧪 㧪䧖㔏…”

“䣝䐚㺅 㒃 䇟㾏㧪 㾍㺅䧾䥤䥤 㺅㢭䣛 䥤䧖䚲䧾㧪㗢 䣛䧖䐚㫪” 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 㾍㾏䧾䒜 㨇㾏㢭㧪㨇㾍㺅䥤䣛㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 䦐㢭㨇㾏㬑䧾㧪㗢 㾍䥤䧾㗢䣲㺅䥤䣛㶿

㗢㨇㾏㴘䣲㔏㾏㺅䧖㧪㬑㔏㢭㨇䣲䐚䧖䣛䥤㨇䚲䧖”䊺䧖䐚䦐㺅㾍䄹㢭’㾍䥤㾏䣛㨇㾏䧾”㾍䕿㨇䚲㨇㧪㾍㨇㾍㧪㨇䅅㨇䒜㢭㶿䒜㾏㧪㨇㨇㝕䧾㺅䧖䅅㨇㨇㾍䒜㧪㫪

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 䧖㳨㨇㧪㨇䒜 䣲㨇㢭 㝕䧖䐚㺅䣲㫪 㺅䣲㨇㧪 䇟䥤䧖㾍㨇䒜 䧾㺅㶿 㣎䣲㨇 䒜䧾䒜㧪’㺅 㬑㧪䧖㔏㶿 䤣䧖㺅 㢭㨇㾏䥤䥤䣛㶿 㴵䧖䚲㨇 㔏㾏㾍 㾍䥤䧖㔏㫪 䒜㨇䥤䧾䦐㨇㢭㾏㺅㨇 㫯 㾍䧖 㳨㨇䧖㳨䥤㨇 㾍㾏䧾䒜㶿 䣝䐚㺅 䣲㨇㢭 䥤䧾䅅㨇 䣲㾏䒜 䧖㧪䥤䣛 䦐㨇㨇㧪 䇟䣲㾏䧖㾍㫪 䅅䧾䥤䥤㨇䒜 㔏䧾㺅䣲 䅅䥤㨇㨇㺅䧾㧪㗢 䇟䧖㧪㧪㨇䇟㺅䧾䧖㧪㾍 㾏㧪䒜 㾍䣲㾏䥤䥤䧖㔏 㾏䥤䥤䧾㾏㧪䇟㨇㾍㶿 䤀㾏㾍 㺅䣲㨇㢭㨇 㨇䚲㨇㧪 㢭䧖䧖㝕 䅅䧖㢭 䥤䧖䚲㨇 䧾㧪 㾏 㔏䧖㢭䥤䒜 䥤䧾㬑㨇 䣲㨇㢭㾍䕿

“䤣䧖㫪” 㾍䣲㨇 㾏䒜㝕䧾㺅㺅㨇䒜㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 䣲㨇㾏䚲䣛 㔏䧾㺅䣲 㾍䣲㾏㝕㨇㶿

䧾㝕㶿㢭䅅㔏㾏䣲㺅䧖㗢䥤䧾䚲㧪㨇㝕㫪㒃’㾏㾍䣲㰍㺅”䣛㢭㺅䥤㾏㾍㾍’㢭㨇㾏䣛䄹㧪䧖㔏䕿”㔏䣲䣛䦐㺅䐚㺅㨇㧪䒜㾏㔏䐚䧖䣛㺅㺅䣲㗢䐚䧖”㶿䣲䧖㺅㨇㧪㾏㔏㾍䧖㺅㗢㨇㧪㺅䥤㨇”㒃䅅

“䣝㨇䇟㾏䐚㾍㨇…” 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 䣲㨇㾍䧾㺅㾏㺅㨇䒜㶿 “㒃 䒜䧖㧪’㺅 㺅䣲䧾㧪㬑 㒃 㔏䧖䐚䥤䒜’䚲㨇 䦐㨇㨇㧪 㾏䦐䥤㨇 㺅䧖 䥤䧖䚲㨇 㾏㺅 㾏䥤䥤 䦐㨇䅅䧖㢭㨇㶿”

“㒃 䒜䧖㧪’㺅 㬑㧪䧖㔏㫪 䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭㫪” 㾍䣲㨇 㾍㾏䧾䒜 䅅䧾㧪㾏䥤䥤䣛㫪 䣲㨇㢭 䚲䧖䧾䇟㨇 䇟㢭㾏䇟㬑䧾㧪㗢㶿 “㒃’㝕 㾍䇟㾏㢭㨇䒜㶿”

䣲㾏㺅䐚㗢䇟䧾㧪㫪㨇䥤䣛㾏㾍㾏㢭䄹㨇㾍䇟㾏䅅䧾㧪㨇䇟㾍䣲䥤㨇㨇㾏㧪䒜䥤䄹㾏㾍㨇㾏㢭䣛䦐㺅㢭㨇㾏䣲㝕㨇㨇㢭㢭㨇䣲㳨㢭㨇㧪㫪䧖㾍䒜䧾㺅㨇㢭䣲㨇㢭䂭㗢㢭䒜䧾䇟䐚䒜䧖䥤㺅㾏㳨㾏㢭㶿䧾㧪㢭㨇䣲㢭㨇㨇䧖䣝䅅㢭㴘㨇䧖䅅㫪㶿㾏䧖㢭䣲㺅㺅

䂭㢭㗢䧾䒜㨇㢭 䣲㨇㾍䧾㺅㾏㺅㨇䒜㫪 㗢䧾䚲䧾㧪㗢 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 㾏 䇟䣲㾏㧪䇟㨇 㺅䧖 㳨䐚䥤䥤 㾏㔏㾏䣛㶿

䣝䐚㺅 䄹㾏㨇㢭㾏䥤䣛㾍 䒜䧾䒜㧪’㺅 㝕䧖䚲㨇㶿

㬑䧾㾍㾍㗢䂭䧾㢭㢭䒜㨇䅅䧾䥤㨇䒜䥤㔏㣎䣛㫪䧖䥤䥤㾏㝕㢭㫪㔏䧖㺅㢭䣲㨇㺅㨇㧪㺅䚲㺅䧾㾏㨇㺅㒃㾍㳨㾍㨇㢭䧖㺅䣲㨇㢭㾏㾏㔏㾍㳨㾍䧾㶿䥤㾏㫪㺅䧾䥤㨇䇟䒜㨇䥤䇟㨇䧖㾍䒜䐚㬑㧪㾍㳨㨇㧪䧖㫪㺅䅅䧖㾍㨇䣛㫪㾍㨇㨇䣲㾍䣛㾏㧪䥤㺅㫪䥤㨇㢭䇟䐚㺅㾏䥤㧪㔏䧖㗢䥤䧾㾍㝕㶿䧖䧾㢭㳨㨇㶿㾍䒜㧪㾏䣲㺅䧾㔏

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Chapter 96: Honey Kisses (1)
The kiss was unlike any other Argider had experienced. This one felt different, innocent, unhurried, like the kiss of a child discovering something pure for the first time.

It lacked the heavy pull of desire she was accustomed to, replaced instead by a gentle warmth.

She didn’t feel the need to force it or take more than what was offered. The moment lingered softly, like a fragile bubble refusing to burst, until Faeralys backed away abruptly, her wrist covering her lips.

For a moment, the red-haired girl sat, her gaze darting anywhere but at Argider.

“I…” Argider began, her voice hesitant, but Faeralys shot her a look.

“D-Don’t say anything!” Faeralys snapped, though her voice trembled, betraying her resolve.

Argider respected her words and bit her lip, swallowing all the things she wanted to say. Still, she could feel the faint tingle of the kiss on her lips. A sensation so sweet, so tender, it felt almost foreign.

It was like a cloud, light and ephemeral, and clearly inexperienced.

“That felt… warm,” Argider murmured, almost to herself. The word tasted strange on her tongue, as though it were in a language she had never spoken before. She had known physicality, yes, but warmth? That was a rarity in her life.

“I-I said don’t say anything!” Faeralys repeated, her cheeks flushed. “I should go now…”

“Wait!” Argider called out, reaching a hand toward her, but Faeralys didn’t stop. She was gone in an instant, leaving Argider alone with her swirling thoughts.

If Argider were still a man, she wouldn’t have understood the girl’s fears. But now, as a woman, those fears resonated with her in a way she couldn’t have predicted. Faeralys wasn’t like the others in the palace. She was free, expressive, like a gust of fresh air in a suffocating room.

It would be too bold, too premature, to say she loved her. Argider didn’t even know what love was, not truly.

Not when her days were filled with women she was supposed to love but couldn’t, not in the way the romance novels described. Love in the palace felt like a duty, a transaction. But with Faeralys… perhaps there was something different.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of raised voices outside her chamber.

An argument? …Women?

Bam!

The door swung open, and there they were.

Fialova. Esmeralda. Callista.

Of course, it had to be them.

“I can comfort Her Imperial Majesty!” Esmeralda declared, her arms crossed as she glared at the others.

“No, that is my duty as the Empress!” Fialova shot back, her voice filled with indignation.

“Well, we can all comfort her, yes?” Callista chimed in with her signature soft smile, her tone as sweet as honey yet dripping with ulterior motives.

Argider sighed, her head falling back against the pillows. So much for peace.

“All of you arguing isn’t helping right now…” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Hmph, it’s because these women are meddling,” Esmeralda said, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a disdainful look at Fialova and Callista.

“Why? We’re just trying our best!” Callista retorted, her voice feigning innocence.

Argider looked at them, truly looked at them. Each of her wives was different, with their own ambitions, their own desires.

But one thing was painfully clear: love did not exist in this palace. Or at least, that’s what Argider believed.

Esmeralda? A man in a woman’s body, projecting masculinity in a way that made intimacy feel cold and calculated.

Fialova? Perhaps infatuated, but her heart burned more with hatred than love.

Callista? A survivor, navigating the treacherous waters of the palace with a mask of sweetness.

And yet, they were here. They surrounded her. Was this connection real, or just another fragment of false truths? That was a question she would have to answer, but not now. Now, there were greater battles to prepare for. She would need an army, loyal servants, and mastery of her magic if she were to face the trials ahead.

“See? Our dear Argider right now needs comfort,” Callista purred, stepping closer and gently pushing Argider down onto the bed. “She looks so out of place…”

“H-Hold on!” Argider protested. “I can’t take three of you at once!”

“Well, you took me and Esmeralda,” Callista teased, her smile turning sly. “Why not add Fialova?”

“You what?!” Fialova gasped. “Fine, if that’s the case, I’ll have to join!”

“W-Wait!”

This is my life now, she thought grimly.

Callista was the first to move, her fingertips brushing Argider’s cheek in a way that was almost reverent.

She pulled the emperor close, her arms wrapping around Argider as she lowered her head to claim a kiss. Argider yielded to her, her body softening as their fingers weave through her damp hair. Her lips part instinctively, and their tongues brush in a fleeting, electric moment before she drew back.

Before Argider could recover, Esmeralda stepped forward, her presence commanding yet oddly tender. She cupped Argider’s chin, tilting her head slightly. Esmeralda’s kiss was firm and overbearing. She tasted of the honey she’d savored long ago. Her heartbeat stumbled as Esmeralda pressed eagerly into the kiss, her movements bold and unrestrained.

A knee slid between her legs, and the intensity deepened, their breaths tangling as the kiss turned dark and consuming.

Finally, Esmeralda pulled away, her breathing uneven, leaving the moment heavy with unspoken desire.

Argider’s heart raced, but her attention shifted as Fialova hesitated nearby. She stood apart, her hands fidgeting slightly as if unsure of her place in the moment. Her crimson eyes flickered with vulnerability, and she exhaled softly, stepping closer.

“May I?” Fialova asked, her voice delicate, almost a whisper.

Argider blinked, startled by the gentleness, but she nodded.

Fialova’s hand lightly grazed Argider’s arm as she leaned in, her movements tentative. Her lips met Argider’s with a shy sweetness, a quiet confession wrapped in warmth.

And then she kissed her. Once, twice. Just enough for Argider to realize she’ll never be satisfied, no matter how much more she got.

Her touch is everywhere, gliding up the emperor’s back, trailing over her arms, igniting sparks across her skin. Suddenly, her lips press harder, deeper, with a desperation that feels primal, a hunger that they’ve never encountered before.

Before Fialova caught her breath, Argider found herself sinking onto the bed, her pulse racing as the three of them loom above, their gazes smoldering with intent.

Callista chuckled softly, breaking the fragile silence. “Well, it seems we will all share something tonight.