Chapter 81: Two Prison Cells

......

Salser woke up as the first light of dawn appeared, and thankfully, his head no longer buzzed like it had the previous night. He remembered resolving an unstable factor the night before, and he also remembered that he needed to ask about the whereabouts of Jeanne. Having Caren take him to the city guard was the first thing he needed to do today.

He coughed as he sat up straight in bed, reaching for the hot milk prepared by an unknown person on the bedside table—it seemed to have been sweetened with a lot of sugar. He drank it down in a few gulps, though it was overly sweet, he felt his throat become less dry.

"Did you pour this?" Salser asked.

Caren opened her eyes from her morning prayer, "I wanted to taste the milk, although I'm not very good at it... now it seems the taste is passable."

"I think the taste is quite bad."

"This is a drink I prepared for myself," Caren said, "I just borrowed your tongue to taste it, so your feelings are not within my consideration."

"Haha."

Caren turned her head—she was kneeling on the floor in prayer with her back to Salser—and then carefully observed his eyes and expression.

After a moment, she spoke with her usual emotionless tone, "I sense an insulting implication in your laughter and eyes."

"Your words truly make me feel displeased," Salser said in a very low voice.

Anger stirred within him, a slow and dangerous anger. For this woman who had easily uncovered his secrets, Salser felt a subtle sense of... darker and suppressed thoughts that might inadvertently spill out in front of her. This was dangerous, so she must be controlled. "You, like her, lack reverence for fear, but you are even more extreme... I really detest this," he said.

"So you prefer Miss Jeanne, then?"

"I do not deny my desires for her," Salser walked over and patted her shoulder, "But I know when to be guided by my lower half, and when not to be."

"Is there only desire involved?"

Salser frowned, "You seem to be meddling a bit too much, this aspect doesn't need your curiosity."

"You didn't answer my question directly," Caren tilted her head, letting her hair slide down her shoulder, gazing at his expression, "Why?"

He seemed to sense her thoughts, perhaps because the nun's curiosity about the relationship between the Inquisitor and him was too strong. But this was meaningless; he didn't need to answer every question.

You'd better shut up.

The Dark wizard lowered his head, his gaze conveying this message. He took the two soft, slightly dry lips from the morning prayer into his mouth, feeling her limbs subtly stiffen. With one hand, he embraced Caren's slender waist, and with the other, he caressed her smooth, gem-like cheek. He extended his tongue to lick her lips, slowly sucking until the enticing lips were thoroughly moistened with saliva.

Caren's body appeared frail and thin, but the touch of her waist was exquisite, her skin as smooth as if one's fingers were immersed in water.

Her neck and above flushed a beautiful red, emitting slight gasps, but her expression remained calm—or perhaps it was a calm she was striving to maintain:

"I thought you would continue to vent your desires on this broken body."

"That's only what you thought," Salser said, and without hesitation, changing his clothes right in front of her gaze.

"I've always been prepared for this kind of sacrifice, after all, this body is broken inside and out, like a torn rag," she said in a calm tone, "One eye can hardly see clearly, the tongue can't taste anything, many parts are not very functional, and even these two hands that can still undergo surgery don't know when they'll be damaged. I think, anyway, it can't get any worse."

"My desires would shatter you on the spot right now, nun," Salser said impatiently, "The irreversible damage to your organs isn't a big deal for a dark wizard, but I'm currently short of materials, so just leave it as it is. Anyway, you won't die anytime soon."

"Are you referring to using those souls as sacrifices for me?"

"Do you have any objections?"

"Although I want to say yes, I myself am already your sacrifice," Caren said solemnly, "So—the choice is in your hands, and it's you who decides those lives, and any injustice that arises is also your responsibility."

"You're quite eloquent."

"I'm only trying to awaken your compassion."

"I think I have a lot of compassion. Last night, I patiently talked to you instead of breaking your fingers one by one, which already shows I have a lot of compassion."

"But I feel that's because you know I'm already accustomed to that kind of sensation, so threats through physical torture are meaningless, aren't they?"

"To be honest, you've convinced me. In this argument just now, you are the victor."

"But this is meaningless. When you spoke, you didn't think about it that much, so the argument itself is meaningless, and winning the argument is also meaningless—the reason being, it has a negligible impact on you personally," she said earnestly.

Salser responded indifferently, "Lead the way, we're going to the city guard."

Seeing his expression, Caren didn't say anything more, just nodded, "As you wish."

She also changed her clothes without any hesitation.

"How do you find the taste of your lips?" Salser leaned against the wall, observing her.

"I don't think there's much of a taste, after all, saliva is just saliva. Even though my saliva in your mouth... is very different from when it's in mine, I still find the taste quite faint," Caren seemed indifferent to his comment, "But there is actually some difference... your body has secretions that affect your brain, which makes you feel excited, so I also experienced the same feeling. I felt pleasure when you swallowed my saliva, which led me to swallow yours as well... considering that you're not entirely a demon, the effect is only half of what it should be."

As Caren spoke... her face still showed a hint of confusion, and the flush on her neck had not completely faded. Combined with her holy image after changing clothes and her calm tone of speech, it would definitely drive someone who hadn't lived long to madness over desire.

"Are you referring to being in heat?"

"If you prefer to put it that way."

......

Tash Prison, Upper level.

The room resembled a simple white box with doors on both sides, the low ceiling due to its size was oppressive, and the arc lamps illuminated the room brightly. Being in the upper level of the prison—not the kind provided to commoners—it was relatively clean, the walls were neatly painted, and unlike the inquisitor's torture chambers, there weren't any long streaks of blood dragged across the floor.

Several dark elves, both male and female, were chatting by the door, occasionally turning to nod at the prisoners inside. These were all big figures who had committed minor offenses, and under the pressure of the Dark elf Lord, Anomander Rake, regardless of their status and power, they had to stay inside.

The beds here were very comfortable, Jeanne found them more pleasant than sleeping in the grass. This place was more like a confined hotel room than a prison. Yet, she still felt bad, and if asked why, it was because—Mordred was right next to her.

This was truly an extremely unpleasant and terrible experience. Throughout the entire night yesterday, Jeanne could hardly control her hands from connecting to the Warren.

Her remaining sanity prevented her from acting on her impulse.

On that street yesterday, if they hadn't subconsciously controlled their strength and avoided injuring pedestrians... they would have faced more than just detention.

Now, she just hoped that the Dark wizard and the nun would come to bail her out as soon as possible—and wished that Mordred would sit in this prison for as long as possible.

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