I Became a Slave to the Man I Abandoned Novel (Completed) - Chapter 155

Blood dripped steadily. Khalid’s skin was so torn and crimson that its original color was unrecognizable. His fingernails and toenails were all ripped off, clotted with blood, and his once-handsome face was marred with knife cuts.

The torturer, peeling layer after layer of skin from his forearm, would douse him with water whenever he seemed about to faint. As the water seeped into the raw flesh of his peeled and torn skin, an indescribable agony surged through him. When Khalid groaned softly, the torturer’s eyes narrowed, and he picked up a short knife to continue slicing away thin strips of skin. Khalid’s clothes were entirely soaked in blood. His ankles were so mangled that bone was exposed, and his fingers were twisted and broken, each bent in an unnatural direction.

Gasp, gasp. His ragged breaths fell one after another onto the cold stone floor. His face was so covered in blood that he couldn’t even open his eyes. Khalid’s hoarse voice animalistically shrieked each time the thin knife dug into his flesh.

Yet, despite it all, he never once called Nox Rainerio’s name. A thought even crossed his mind: that suffering such a tormenting death in this deep dungeon, never to see Nox’s face again, was a fitting end for him. Yes, it was a complacent thought, hoping that someone who had hurt you so deeply would be buried forever in this deep abyss, and that you, Nox, would go to some peaceful place, perhaps even one that exists.

“Hmm, you’re heavier-lipped than I thought,” the torturer mused. The man who had reduced him to a bloody mess now abandoned the tongs and knife, caked with bits of torn skin and flesh, and decided to find another method.

“I’ll need a branding iron.”

“Ah, understood.” The guard, who had been watching the entire torture session, replied with a trembling voice. He left his post to fetch the branding iron. As he walked away into the distance, the sound of him retching softly could be heard.

Khalid Via, bound to the chair, was literally nothing but a bloody mass. But the torturer, humming as if this were just the beginning, wiped down his tools with a stained cloth.

“To be honest, I don’t really care whether you speak or not.”

“…”

Only the shallow, ragged breaths indicated that he was still alive. The torturer watched the hot iron pot being brought into the cell, then clasped his hands together and looked up at the sky as if in prayer.

“You’re going to end here anyway.”

He uttered these words nonchalantly, words that would plunge anyone else into despair.

“Whether you speak or not, you’re going to die here.”

“…”

At that moment, Khalid’s bloodied lips parted. The torturer leaned in, listening to the words he exhaled like faint breaths. Then, he cackled with laughter.

“Yes, that’s right. Wouldn’t that make things more interesting?” He then grabbed a red-hot iron rod. “After all, I’m just a man swayed by power, aren’t I? Still, if I have a choice…”

The broad part of the iron rod touched Khalid’s back, which was already sliced open by knives. With a sizzling sound, a scream erupted. Amidst the scream, Khalid murmured, “I hope you were a magnificent man.”

So, let’s keep your word until the end and die. The torturer grinned, savoring the single phrase Khalid had whispered, as he shoved a red-hot skewer into the wounds.

‘Only I will die.’

Time continued to flow, and Khalid Via spent seven days in the underground dungeon. During that time, there was never a day when screams ceased to echo from the dungeon.

It was the same number of days that Nox Rainerio had lost his mind.

***

Nox Rainerio now sat confidently in the organized Imperial Office. Feltion’s funeral was still being prepared. Though the Emperor was dead, the affairs of the nation didn’t halt. Had he had an heir, that person would have taken over, but as it stood, it was Nox Rainerio, and no one else, who now occupied the seat. The one who was once dragged through the mud by the Emperor was now sitting in his place.

The nobles feared Nox. Was all of this a mere coincidence, or was it all orchestrated by him? Anyone with a functioning brain and eyes would know the truth. How could all of this simply be by chance?

Nox pushed aside the documents he’d been reviewing and listened to the latest report that had just come in.

“The criminal isn’t speaking.”

At that, Nox tapped the table. “He’s not speaking, you say…”

The chief eunuch, now one of Feltion’s few remaining confidants, gulped and nodded.

“Was the torture insufficient?”

“…The possibility of that is…”

“Yes, there wouldn’t be any,” Nox finished.

Nox knew the torturer he had summoned well. He was, quite literally, a madman. Not just a moderately insane one, but someone completely unhinged who wouldn’t have shown any mercy. Nox Rainerio was curious, yet also uneasy. If Khalid’s lips had uttered Nox’s name, the torturer would have killed him, feigning an accident. But the fact that he was still alive meant…

‘He didn’t say my name.’

Nox turned his gaze sideways with an indifferent expression. Everything is for me? Nox didn’t believe him. Everything is just to ease his own mind. It’s merely preparation to shake everything off and escape into death.

If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t be able to do that.

Nox rose from his seat. As he passed the desk, he commanded the chief eunuch, “We’ll go see the criminal.”

“You wish to see the criminal, Your Grace, in person?”

Nox Rainerio let out a hollow laugh. “You’re talking back now.”

Nox’s gaze was utterly contemptuous, as if he was experiencing something remarkably unusual. His tone, filled with palpable arrogance, made the Chief Eunuch realize his mistake and bow deeply.

“M-my mistake,” he stammered.

“Well, alright,” Nox replied, dismissing it lightly, despite his initial reaction. The Chief Eunuch felt a trickle of cold sweat down his back. Nox wouldn’t let him off so easily. It was more like a fleeting mercy shown to someone who would eventually vanish from the palace.

Nox called for Esterion, who was currently residing in the palace with him. Esterion approached Nox, looking oddly tired.

“Why are your eyes so dark underneath?” Nox inquired.

“The palace beds are too soft,” Esterion replied.

“I didn’t give you a low-quality room at the Duke’s estate either.”

“Consider the room you’ve given me now. It’s a room only royalty could sleep in, isn’t it?”

“Endure it.”

“…Yes, Your Grace.”

Nox and Esterion headed to the dungeon. Since Nox hadn’t formally inherited the throne yet, there were no trailing attendants. The two conversed lightly as they descended.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nox began.

“Yes?” Esterion responded.

“How about your younger brother inherits the Rainerio Dukedom?”

“Pardon?”

For Nox, it was a casual conversation.

“No, I mean, what…?”

“If I ascend the throne, Jemeil will naturally succeed me. It wouldn’t matter if Jemeil held the ducal title and passed it to his child, but…” Nox stepped down to the first floor and looked up at Esterion. “You said you’d take responsibility for your brother, didn’t you?”

“…” Esterion’s lips parted, unsure how to respond to such an overwhelming proposition. But Nox simply continued, his face serene.

“Of course, your younger sister is still young, so you’d have to inherit the title first.”

“No, Duke. No, Your Highness. No, Your Majesty.”

“Still ‘Your Highness’ for now.”

“Yes. Yes, Your Highness. You shouldn’t say such things so casually.”

“Do I look like I’m doing this without any thought?”

“Th-that’s not what I mean, but…”

“Think about it. I can’t give you much time.”

The two arrived at the dungeon entrance, conversing. Nox Rainerio paused for a moment, standing before the tense guards who were stiff at attention, and then spoke to Esterion.

“I’ll go down alone.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“…I’ll be fine.”

Because I’m not the one who’ll be trapped here. Nox looked at the dungeon entrance, which had once felt like the maw of hell swallowing him whole. The fear was still there, but the thought of his nightmare being imprisoned below gave him room to breathe.

“I’ll wait,” Esterion said. Nox offered no reply, simply stepping onto the stairs leading down to the dungeon. One, two, three. As his form was swallowed by the darkness, Nox felt his entire body tense. The fear he hadn’t fully overcome still clung to his ankles.

By the time he reached the torchlit area below, Nox loosened the cravat constricting his neck. Beside a torch stood a man Nox knew. The white-haired torturer, his entire body stained with blood, greeted him with a respectful bow.

“I was waiting, having heard you were coming down.”

“The results?”

The torturer, looking oddly pleased, replied, “I’ve learned nothing.”

“…”

Nox Rainerio found his expression unsettling. Yet, he showed no outward sign, approaching the bars. The stench of blood wafted strongly from inside the cell, where the torchlight didn’t reach. Nox peered into the darkness, his eyes gradually adjusting.

It was a form barely recognizable as human. Though bound to a chair, his limbs were distinguishable. His platinum-blonde hair was so soaked in blood it looked black, and his skin was peeled away, exposing raw flesh to the extent that individual muscle fibers were visible.

Nox let out a hollow laugh. So, even in this state, he hasn’t spoken. Nox Rainerio looked down at Khalid Via and said, “Your stubbornness is greater than I thought.”

At his voice, the head, which had been slumped towards the floor, twitched. And then slowly, it lifted. At the same moment, Nox saw his utterly ruined appearance.