| Author: The Sole Survivor | Original Source: SFACG |
| Translator: CatatoPatch | English Source: Re:Library |
“I had originally planned for an easy death for you… after all, a low-born, short-lived creature such as yourself has no right to even serve me. But now… I’ve changed my mind. Even though it still disgusts me to look at you, I feel it is my duty to proceed as such… such a fortunate creature you are… I just hope I won’t puke all of a sudden.”
Sarkath the Sword Dancer slowly walked up to the still shell-shocked female warrior. She was in a terrible condition right now and probably wouldn’t be able to get up in the short term. Because of her prone state, her body was filthy, a mix of fresh blood and dirt.
“I swear, I just can’t stand a dirty creature like you.” Sarkath arrogantly declared before swinging his sword in her direction.
A glint of steel flashed across her back, yet his sword did not hurt her as one would expect, instead, her dirtied hemp clothes were completely sliced apart.
What’s going on here? I thought you hated her, so why are you undressing her instead? At this point, the female human’s snowy white back was bare for the entire colosseum to see…
“WOOOOOOO!!!” The stands erupted in cheers once more, intoxicated by the deadly cocktail that was violence and procreation. Even under normal circumstances, such a combination always stirred the imaginations of those watching, let alone in a depraved society like the Dark Elf’s.
Are they going to have a go then? I thought to myself, still shocked by what was about to happen as I turned to face Paliseth.
In return, Paliseth flashed me a wide, long smile, as if to say that the true show was only beginning.
The colosseum was not just a place where blood was shed. Often, there would be public displays of procreation, perpetrated by the more open members of their society. In fact, it was basically a part of the daily show at this point; it wasn’t strange at all to see a few such cases in a day. Even some of the slave gladiators were a part of this live performance, choosing to have a go right after their victory instead of waiting till they were in the backrooms.
What was more shocking however, was that such acts of perversion were actually popular with the crowd… Naturally, all that was assuming such people survived the fight.
Reyage kept his cool for the most part, even when faced with a potentially exciting situation down below. He was every bit an old, wizened monk right now: expressionless and unaffected. As for his sister… her face was already buried in my chest.
Her hands were completely cupping her ears and her body was shivering just like it would when she was frightened. That was how timid of a girl she was. Even though the sword didn’t harm the human in the end, the mere thought of that grisly scene was enough to frighten her.
The human female below had already resigned herself to her fate, but apparently fate had something more cruel in store for her. The dreaded cold embrace of death never came, instead she felt a chill on her back, both figuratively and literally. The Sword Dancer chose not to kill her right away, he wanted to humiliate her in the worst possible way -that was why he sliced her shirt up under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands of people.
Feeling her clothes slip off her back, the female human immediately grabbed onto whatever scraps of cloth that were left covering her chest. Then she turned around to face the Sword Dancer so as not to let him see her exposed back. This time, there was panic written all over her face. Real, visceral panic. Her body instinctively pulled itself away from Sarkath, crawling desperately away in a bid to put some distance between her and him.
Unfortunately, there was no way her crawling was ever going to save her. The perfectly unharmed Sword Dancer had on a sinister sneer as he looked at the female human, as if she was nothing more than a dirty Duergar. “Hmph, you should consider it an honor for lowly creatures like yourself to serve me. Do you honestly think I would covet that body of yours? That body which you might see as perfect but is actually no better than a filthy Duergar’s.”
His barbed words cut into her like a sword, but she never responded to him in the slightest. She merely continued crawling away, all the while clutching on that dangling piece of hemp on her chest.
Sarkath maintained a calm pace as he walked up to her. His face held none of the lust you would expect, instead it held that paradoxical look of disgust you would see on a person who was about to swallow something he knew was revolting but chose to do it anyway.
It was as if the unspeakable acts he was about to inflict on her were actually an insult to his noble self… like how one wouldn’t cavort in bed with a dog.
That self-aggrandising attitude of his only made me want to ask him this: so why are you doing this then… Suddenly, I remembered Paliseth’s mysterious smile. Nothing needed to be explained from that point onwards.
Before his dastardly deed was about to be perpetrated, I finally spoke up.
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(Please visit Re:Library to show the translators your appreciation and stop supporting the content thief!)
“Stop.” I said with furrowed brows, voice amplified significantly by my own magic.
Had this been a willing transaction, I would have never interfered like this -just like how I never said a word after that previous match with the Dwarf and the Dark Elf. In fact, I was even a little excited back then by how the Dwarf would react to the Dark Elf’s solicitation… aren’t all men like that? At least, I am.
This time was clearly different. The female human was clearly forced into such an act by the male Dark Elf. And the male Dark Elf didn’t even seem willing to go through with it in the first place. It was clear that he must have had a reason for doing this, and this reason most likely had nothing to do with his will, and all to do with a certain Matriarch who was still excitedly watching the scene unfold.
Unfortunately, my objection was easily drowned out by the frantic cheering from the audience. No one had heard what I said, and even if they did, it was a question whether or not they would even care.
While all that was happening, Sarkath continued approaching the female human with the expression of someone who was about to swallow a cockroach. Yet even if the audience did not hear my objection, there was someone who certainly did.
Paliseth, upon noticing my obvious disapproval of what the Dark Elf below was about to do, tried to intervene right away. Unfortunately, her attempts were a little too late…
Upon hitting the walls of the ring with her back, the female human knew that she was doomed. Her thirst for vengeance might have clouded her mind, but even she could see what was about to happen to her. Sarkath might have looked unwilling, but the fact that he hadn’t tried to kill her yet meant that something unspeakable was about to happen to her…
Without waiting for the Dark Elf to come any closer, her right hand darted to her back, coming out a second later to toss a dagger at Sarkath. However, if she wasn’t even able to hurt him under normal circumstances, she certainly wasn’t going to be able to do so in this state. Sarkath did not even bother dodging this attack. He instead swatted it away with his engraved longswords like a fly.
But seeing her still try to struggle even at the eleventh hour, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger rising in his chest that swiftly reached his head. An instant later, he dove forward with swords aimed right at her throat!
This sudden change in heart was naturally just an attempt to frighten her into submission. He had never intended to kill her, and was planning to stop a hair’s breadth away from her throat. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated. She wasn’t cowed by the impending threat of death at all -she welcomed it! A gush of blood later… the female human had her throat pierced by the Sword Dancer’s engraved swords.
She didn’t die immediately however. Her throat continued to move, as if she was trying to say something to the Dark Elf. I couldn’t hear what she was saying from where I was, but I could clearly feel her words in my soul.
“I curse you.”
Just like that, she died with her eyes wide open.
Yet Sarkath clearly wasn’t one to care for whatever she had to say. He impatiently pulled out his stained swords, and even kicked her on the face to dislodge them even faster. The blood splatters on his otherwise beautiful swords displeased him greatly. He gave them a quick flick to clean them, then turned around to leave, not even bothering to spare the woman he had just slain a second more of his time.
While I could not know what he was thinking right now, my guess would have been something like this…
‘Wretched thing… even in death, you have to inconvenience me.’
This guy… even if you look down upon her, there has to be limits, right? You just killed her and you’re already humiliating her right away… isn’t that just going overboard?
“Who is that?”
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(If you are reading this, that means this content is stolen. Please support us by visiting our site.)
I did not specify who I was referring to, but Paliseth implicitly knew who I was asking about. Seeing that I was even more displeased now, she immediately wiped that smile off her face and answered me in earnest.
“Does your holiness dislike that Sword Dancer?”
“I do. I hate him so much that I would wish him dead.”
Honestly speaking, the Elves did possess a more noble bloodline than the humans, what with their immensely long lifespans. But humans had their strengths as well. They were able to learn quickly and had the potential to reach the same heights as Elves. While the Elves had the right to look down on others because of their long lives, it was also a fact that they developed at a much slower right than humans, not to mention the obvious superiority the humans had in numbers. In fact, if we were just talking about high level warriors and mages, the humans had more
| Author: The Sole Survivor | Original Source: SFACG |
| Translator: CatatoPatch | English Source: Re:Library |
“I had originally planned for an easy death for you… after all, a low-born, short-lived creature such as yourself has no right to even serve me. But now… I’ve changed my mind. Even though it still disgusts me to look at you, I feel it is my duty to proceed as such… such a fortunate creature you are… I just hope I won’t puke all of a sudden.”
Sarkath the Sword Dancer slowly walked up to the still shell-shocked female warrior. She was in a terrible condition right now and probably wouldn’t be able to get up in the short term. Because of her prone state, her body was filthy, a mix of fresh blood and dirt.
“I swear, I just can’t stand a dirty creature like you.” Sarkath arrogantly declared before swinging his sword in her direction.
A glint of steel flashed across her back, yet his sword did not hurt her as one would expect, instead, her dirtied hemp clothes were completely sliced apart.
What’s going on here? I thought you hated her, so why are you undressing her instead? At this point, the female human’s snowy white back was bare for the entire colosseum to see…
“WOOOOOOO!!!” The stands erupted in cheers once more, intoxicated by the deadly cocktail that was violence and procreation. Even under normal circumstances, such a combination always stirred the imaginations of those watching, let alone in a depraved society like the Dark Elf’s.
Are they going to have a go then? I thought to myself, still shocked by what was about to happen as I turned to face Paliseth.
In return, Paliseth flashed me a wide, long smile, as if to say that the true show was only beginning.
The colosseum was not just a place where blood was shed. Often, there would be public displays of procreation, perpetrated by the more open members of their society. In fact, it was basically a part of the daily show at this point; it wasn’t strange at all to see a few such cases in a day. Even some of the slave gladiators were a part of this live performance, choosing to have a go right after their victory instead of waiting till they were in the backrooms.
What was more shocking however, was that such acts of perversion were actually popular with the crowd… Naturally, all that was assuming such people survived the fight.
Reyage kept his cool for the most part, even when faced with a potentially exciting situation down below. He was every bit an old, wizened monk right now: expressionless and unaffected. As for his sister… her face was already buried in my chest.
Her hands were completely cupping her ears and her body was shivering just like it would when she was frightened. That was how timid of a girl she was. Even though the sword didn’t harm the human in the end, the mere thought of that grisly scene was enough to frighten her.
The human female below had already resigned herself to her fate, but apparently fate had something more cruel in store for her. The dreaded cold embrace of death never came, instead she felt a chill on her back, both figuratively and literally. The Sword Dancer chose not to kill her right away, he wanted to humiliate her in the worst possible way -that was why he sliced her shirt up under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands of people.
Feeling her clothes slip off her back, the female human immediately grabbed onto whatever scraps of cloth that were left covering her chest. Then she turned around to face the Sword Dancer so as not to let him see her exposed back. This time, there was panic written all over her face. Real, visceral panic. Her body instinctively pulled itself away from Sarkath, crawling desperately away in a bid to put some distance between her and him.
Unfortunately, there was no way her crawling was ever going to save her. The perfectly unharmed Sword Dancer had on a sinister sneer as he looked at the female human, as if she was nothing more than a dirty Duergar. “Hmph, you should consider it an honor for lowly creatures like yourself to serve me. Do you honestly think I would covet that body of yours? That body which you might see as perfect but is actually no better than a filthy Duergar’s.”
His barbed words cut into her like a sword, but she never responded to him in the slightest. She merely continued crawling away, all the while clutching on that dangling piece of hemp on her chest.
Sarkath maintained a calm pace as he walked up to her. His face held none of the lust you would expect, instead it held that paradoxical look of disgust you would see on a person who was about to swallow something he knew was revolting but chose to do it anyway.
It was as if the unspeakable acts he was about to inflict on her were actually an insult to his noble self… like how one wouldn’t cavort in bed with a dog.
That self-aggrandising attitude of his only made me want to ask him this: so why are you doing this then… Suddenly, I remembered Paliseth’s mysterious smile. Nothing needed to be explained from that point onwards.
Before his dastardly deed was about to be perpetrated, I finally spoke up.
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(Please visit Re:Library to show the translators your appreciation and stop supporting the content thief!)
“Stop.” I said with furrowed brows, voice amplified significantly by my own magic.
Had this been a willing transaction, I would have never interfered like this -just like how I never said a word after that previous match with the Dwarf and the Dark Elf. In fact, I was even a little excited back then by how the Dwarf would react to the Dark Elf’s solicitation… aren’t all men like that? At least, I am.
This time was clearly different. The female human was clearly forced into such an act by the male Dark Elf. And the male Dark Elf didn’t even seem willing to go through with it in the first place. It was clear that he must have had a reason for doing this, and this reason most likely had nothing to do with his will, and all to do with a certain Matriarch who was still excitedly watching the scene unfold.
Unfortunately, my objection was easily drowned out by the frantic cheering from the audience. No one had heard what I said, and even if they did, it was a question whether or not they would even care.
While all that was happening, Sarkath continued approaching the female human with the expression of someone who was about to swallow a cockroach. Yet even if the audience did not hear my objection, there was someone who certainly did.
Paliseth, upon noticing my obvious disapproval of what the Dark Elf below was about to do, tried to intervene right away. Unfortunately, her attempts were a little too late…
Upon hitting the walls of the ring with her back, the female human knew that she was doomed. Her thirst for vengeance might have clouded her mind, but even she could see what was about to happen to her. Sarkath might have looked unwilling, but the fact that he hadn’t tried to kill her yet meant that something unspeakable was about to happen to her…
Without waiting for the Dark Elf to come any closer, her right hand darted to her back, coming out a second later to toss a dagger at Sarkath. However, if she wasn’t even able to hurt him under normal circumstances, she certainly wasn’t going to be able to do so in this state. Sarkath did not even bother dodging this attack. He instead swatted it away with his engraved longswords like a fly.
But seeing her still try to struggle even at the eleventh hour, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger rising in his chest that swiftly reached his head. An instant later, he dove forward with swords aimed right at her throat!
This sudden change in heart was naturally just an attempt to frighten her into submission. He had never intended to kill her, and was planning to stop a hair’s breadth away from her throat. Unfortunately, he had miscalculated. She wasn’t cowed by the impending threat of death at all -she welcomed it! A gush of blood later… the female human had her throat pierced by the Sword Dancer’s engraved swords.
She didn’t die immediately however. Her throat continued to move, as if she was trying to say something to the Dark Elf. I couldn’t hear what she was saying from where I was, but I could clearly feel her words in my soul.
“I curse you.”
Just like that, she died with her eyes wide open.
Yet Sarkath clearly wasn’t one to care for whatever she had to say. He impatiently pulled out his stained swords, and even kicked her on the face to dislodge them even faster. The blood splatters on his otherwise beautiful swords displeased him greatly. He gave them a quick flick to clean them, then turned around to leave, not even bothering to spare the woman he had just slain a second more of his time.
While I could not know what he was thinking right now, my guess would have been something like this…
‘Wretched thing… even in death, you have to inconvenience me.’
This guy… even if you look down upon her, there has to be limits, right? You just killed her and you’re already humiliating her right away… isn’t that just going overboard?
“Who is that?”
(This chapter is provided to you by Re:Library)
(If you are reading this, that means this content is stolen. Please support us by visiting our site.)
I did not specify who I was referring to, but Paliseth implicitly knew who I was asking about. Seeing that I was even more displeased now, she immediately wiped that smile off her face and answered me in earnest.
“Does your holiness dislike that Sword Dancer?”
“I do. I hate him so much that I would wish him dead.”
Honestly speaking, the Elves did possess a more noble bloodline than the humans, what with their immensely long lifespans. But humans had their strengths as well. They were able to learn quickly and had the potential to reach the same heights as Elves. While the Elves had the right to look down on others because of their long lives, it was also a fact that they developed at a much slower right than humans, not to mention the obvious superiority the humans had in numbers. In fact, if we were just talking about high level warriors and mages, the humans had more
