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I'll admit, I got carried away. I mean, I definitely went overboard. Eighteen times was unprecedented, even for me. I never pushed beyond ten with my other women. When I indulged in group sex, each woman would typically get five rounds at most. Enduring all eighteen shots of my cum turned Charlotte into a masterpiece herself.

As I withdrew, Charlotte's once-distended belly slowly returned to its normal state, my cum gushing out of her crack like a relentless stream.

"Maya, clean my dick," I commanded, aware that she was already awake and attentive.

"O-Okay..." she replied, her voice slightly shaky with anticipation. With determination, she moved towards me, her eyes locked on my cum-coated dick. Without a moment's hesitation, she engulfed it in her mouth, her lips forming a tight seal around my shaft as she eagerly sucked and slurped, her tongue expertly tracing every contour. Her gaze remained fixed on mine as she worked.

She left no trace of my essence untouched, even ensuring to suck out the remaining cum from my urethra. After a thorough cleaning, she withdrew, parting her lips to reveal the collected cum on her tongue.

"Good. Now swallow it," I instructed.

Upon my command, she obediently gulped down the cum, then presented her tongue to me once more, allowing me to inspect it. Satisfied, I flashed her a smile before ordering her to attend to Charlotte, who lay beside us. Without hesitation, she sprang into action, demonstrating her efficiency as my personal maid.

Once I had dressed, a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in," I called out.

With a timid creak, the door swung open, revealing the entrance of a woman. She was no ordinary visitor; she was the resident doctor, tasked with examining the women whose virginity I had taken, ensuring there were no complications. It was Natasha.

As she crossed the threshold, her delicate features contorted into a frown, her senses immediately assaulted by the unmistakable scent of sex that hung heavy in the air. Her eyes scanned the room until they settled on me, her expression a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

"I-I heard you needed something from me," she murmured, a slight tremor in her voice as she bowed respectfully.

"Yes. Filia isn't available at the moment, as she's occupied with other tasks. Can I entrust you with her responsibilities?" I inquired, my tone firm yet polite.

She glanced at the woman, who appeared lifeless as Maya tended to her. When she noticed the subtle rise and fall of her chest, her gaze snapped back to me, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Y-You didn't rape her, did you?" she demanded, her voice tinged with accusation.

"No," I replied firmly.

While there was an element of coercion in what I had done to Charlotte, I wasn't about to confess to it. Admitting to rape would only invite further scrutiny, something I wanted to avoid at all costs. Besides, it wasn't a straightforward case of rape; she had willingly engaged in sexual acts in exchange for something.

You could argue that I simply had sex with a prostitute, which sounded far less damning in my mind.

I hoped Charlotte wouldn't say anything to Natasha during her inspection, just in case she woke up. Not that Charlotte could prove anything anyway. I had everything recorded. If she claimed I raped her, I'd simply show the footage of her spreading her legs for me willingly.

Natasha began her work as soon as Maya finished cleaning Charlotte. I, on the other hand, decided to leave the room. As I stepped out, my phone chimed. Pulling it out, I saw a picture of Charlotte with an ahegao expression. Ignoring the photo for now, I navigated to the notification that had caused my phone to ring.

The headline screamed, "Ex-Duke Sierra Found Dead in His Current Residence." The article was extensive, but the grisly details were unmistakable. The headless corpse, believed to be that of the former Duke Sierra, was discovered in a dingy apartment room by the landlord.

The head was nowhere to be found, but given that the duke had been renting the place, the landlord was certain of the body's identity. Authorities were currently investigating the motive for the killing and searching for the missing head.

I went to where Amon was currently situated. I opened the door to my office and found her there, bringing a teacup to her lips. In front of her was a pile of gold coins. She wasn't alone; the members of the Shadows were also present.

Sandra, the leader, along with Bernadette, Krista, and Juliette, were all there. Isabelle was on a mission with Gabrielle, which explained her absence.

When I entered, they all bowed their heads. Amon lowered her teacup, stood up, and curtsied with a bow.

The Shadows were the ones who killed the ex-duke. I didn't want him to spend a single ounce of money to get Charlotte, so I had him eliminated. His head was now displayed on a stake in the Capital City. With the morning light beginning to rise, I assumed some people had already seen it.

"Good work, all of you," I said.

At my praise, they all blushed, clearly enjoying the recognition.

***

Arianne's POV

The leader and I were in the Capital City, our faces concealed by hoods, blending into the crowd. Many onlookers were terrified and stunned by the sight before them. High above, gruesomely displayed on a stake, was the head of the former duke, Duke Gordon Sierra.

Some citizens murmured that this must be divine punishment for the terrible things he had done. Others speculated that his unhinged actions had led to this brutal end. This was punishment, a consequence of his misdeeds. I was in agreement with the crowd, of course, but even I found the display to be incredibly unhinged.

The royal knights made their way to the stake, their heavy armor clanking with each step. While they focused on retrieving the head, the leader and I slipped away, disappearing into the shadows of the alley. As the dim light faded behind us, we pulled down our hoods, the cool air brushing against our faces.

"This kingdom is really in decline," I murmured, my voice echoing softly off the damp alley walls. "Many nobles have been stripped of their titles, the Prince is rotting in jail, and there are happenings that even I can't begin to understand. It's unsettling." I paused, taking a deep breath. "I should be rejoicing, but there's this gnawing feeling inside me. Everything is just so... weird and strange.

It's like an invisible hand is pulling the strings behind the scenes. Someone must be plotting something."

No, there was definitely a scheme unfolding. Was this the cunning work of Moriarty? Or perhaps the machinations of Mephisto?

The leader remained silent, her eyes fixed on the worn cobblestones beneath our feet, lost in thought.

"Leader?" I called out, breaking the silence.

She snapped out of her reverie, meeting my gaze. "You're right," she murmured after a heavy sigh. "It seems this kingdom is destined for downfall, and it won't be at our hands."

"Should we... take action?"

"Do you think we can? I can't even trust my own soldiers anymore," she replied with a bitter edge to her voice.

That's right. We couldn't trust any more of the members of the Silver Blades. There was a traitor among us. No, we couldn't even be sure how many of them there were in our midst. But we knew there was a traitor. It was only natural for her to doubt everything.

Even Shredica was under suspicion by our leader. Though personally, I didn't think Shredica was the traitor.

"Anyway, I believe it's wise for us to keep a low profile for now," she declared. "After the incident in the King's Game where three of our members decided to act on their own and ended up dead, I think it's best to keep a low profile. The royal knights and magic knights are on our tails as well. If we don't fade from sight for a while, even our most covert maneuvers will not evade their gaze."

The leader turned around and strode deeper into the alley. There was a sense of resignation about her, something I couldn't ignore.

"Are you gonna give up, Leader?"

The Silver Blades were a band of rebels, fighting tooth and nail against the tyranny of the kingdom. We'd clashed swords with royal knights, executed daring raids, and left our mark on the annals of history. But with each setback, it felt like something inside our leader had snapped. Was she really considering giving up now, after all we'd sacrificed? What about our dreams of overthrowing the kingdom?

What about our fallen comrades, who'd shed blood for this cause? And what about my own burning desire to avenge my mother against the royalty?

"No way," declared the leader, her voice filled with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to emerge victorious, even if it means striking a deal with the devil himself."

She glanced back at me, and I could see the fire of determination blazing in her eyes. Looks like the leader hadn't thrown in the towel just yet.