The Debauched Of Antlin 34 Encounter Between Two Opposites

Whatever their condition, slowly, groaning painfully, the dead are now very close to the palisade where their so-called family and their friends are waiting for them.

The Viscount and his men, more accustomed to slaughtering monsters than to embracing them, cannot understand the ridiculous reactions of the villagers who come out of the wooden enclosure one by one.

"Bring more torches!"

Like the viscount, Rhea is stunned when the villagers start crying with joy. Filled with happiness to find their own, they reach out toward the empty-eyed carrions.

Two groups move towards each other. One moaning, the other, composed of hoa.r.s.e voices calling out the names of their found friends, could inspire an artist if facing the villager the things didn't start drooling.

"One torch at the top of the palisade every three feet."

Some of the villagers can't wait any longer. Their hearts were torn when some of these putrid things died, and now, finally being reunited, they rush to those they missed so much.

It is moving. At least it is, in a way. Climbed on the roof of the watchtower, Rhea forgets a little about the nature of the creatures and sitting cross-legged, her head in her hands, she smiles at the beautiful scene unfolding beneath her feet.

The reunion of loved ones who had been separated for too long took up her thoughts and her heart, but soon she directs her eyes to a distant place.

...

A Miles away from the beautiful girl, sitting at the top of a tree in the same position as her, a tall young man with long white hair also smiles.

When the show begins, his big blood-red eyes stand out from the darkness and he gazes with envy at the fountain of blood spurting from the arm of a woman who has just been severed by one of the dead.

The sharp fingernails of the dead tear the throats of the living. The putrid bodies then throw themselves on those who are dying in order to tear the meat from their bodies with their sharp teeth.

This sight accompanied by the soft music of the strident cries of other terrorized villagers is most pleasing to him.

Seeing the many humans who have come to meet the dead running and taking refuge behind the wooden enclosure, the white-haired young man stands up.

Considering that this monsters are far too weak to break through this wooden wall, so he has decided to help them.

Still with a big smile on his face, he is going to rushes towards the village but his instinct tells him to wait and watch.

Once again sitting on the thick branch, the young man, whose skin is lighter than porcelain, meticulously scans every nook and cranny of the palisade.

To reach the middle world, he had to regress to the stage of an egg.

For a long time locked up in a damp place that slowed down his growth, not forgetting the mission he was in charge of, he waited.

Freed, when he was finally able to extricate himself from his solid coc.o.o.n, he realized that in addition to his abilities, his senses had also greatly declined.

However limited he may be today, he is pleased that observing the palisade does not pose any problems.

Villagers, men dressed in iron who should be soldiers... The slim young man does not understand why his instinct, which has never deceived him before, commands him not to move.

Only when the dead crash against the palisade, does he see her. She is the opposite of what he is.

Probably a warrior from the higher realms. She's not the least bit interested in dead bodies. As he looks at her, her big blue eyes are also on him.

Taking into account his current strength, agility and abilities, the white-haired young man considers his possibilities for a moment, but very conscious that the weakest warrior of the higher realms would shoot him down in an instant, he chooses to retreat.

If he were to fall after all this time spent waiting without even having had time to open the gates of the underworld, no doubt his superiors would torture him for centuries after he came back to life.

…

He's gone? Why did she get the strange feeling that she had to kill this man who did nothing wrong?

To chase away this feeling of hostility she felt towards this beautiful young man, Rhea shakes her head.

The dead always try to get through the wooden fence. Their bodies, for the great majority of them, too rotten to bear their blows against the fence, Rhea wants to laugh in front of the many hands that spread out on the ground.

However, these creatures who haven't suffered for a long time are very stubborn. With the help of their heads or stumps, they persist in trying to smash this obstacle which is for them, totally impa.s.sable.

Rhea turns her pretty face to the side. She takes the moss off the roof and throws it in her lover's hair.

"So, My Lord! Are you still not going to intervene? If you wait too long, there will be nothing left of them but a pile of rotten flesh littering the entrance to the village."

"Shut up, you little plague! The villagers fled without asking us anything. It seems the stupid hillbillies were too horrified to remember our presence."

Amused, Rhea throws moss again. This time, prepared, Viscount La.s.sale stops it with his sword.

"Act like a man, My Lord. If you don't, I'll consider that you have nothing in your pants. Naturally, rather than share a coward's bed, I will visit your soldiers, who them, as manly men, will give me pleasure when they'll slip their s.e.x between my thighs."

"Soldiers, open the doors. We're going to put an end to this joke that has gone on too long."

…

Hearing the laughter of his future wife, the Viscount gritted his teeth. For daring to blackmail him, this little b.i.t.c.h is going to get the spanking she deserves. Yes, but... This m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t girl likes it, so it would be more like spoiling her than punis.h.i.+ng her.

"FUUUUUCK, I swear I will severely punish that little b.i.t.c.h. Forward my men."

The doors barely ajar, his face red with anger, the viscount rushed to the dead.

"How beautiful is My Lord! How valiant is My Lord! But I'm so worried for My mighty Lord. That I fear for My Lord life. Will he really succeed in defeating all those awful monsters so powerful? Oh, My Lord! They must have their necks cut off, otherwise they don't really die. But, I'm sure My Lord knew that. Hahaha"

With his sword swinging extremely quickly from left to right, sometimes dodging the stinking jaws of a revived creature, sometimes the claw full of dirt of another, the Viscount beheads the dead without taking a breath.

He continues his ma.s.sacre, but d.a.m.n it... That nasty little s.l.u.t... Not only does she laugh at him, but above all, behind him, he hears his soldiers laughing for whom he has just lost all credibility.

…

Taking advantage of the surrounding chaos, a dishevelled young man, dressed in a black dress, managed to free himself from his bonds. Crawling under the door of the pigsty that served as a shelter for the night, after a last look filled with resentment, he takes the back exit of the village and runs away.