Luxuria (Chapter 4)

The last loyal guard fell.

Surrounded by a horde of armed fanatics, Luxuria calmly raised the cup of black tea in her hand, took a sip without a flicker of emotion, and awaited the arrival of her final moment.

For she knew that the instigator—no, rather, the Church itself—had never intended for her to survive from the very beginning.

This was a war, a war in which the Church sought to seize power amidst the chaos.

And she, or rather Klistu, was the Church’s first target.

If they succeeded, the iron mines stockpiled by Klistu would endlessly supply the Church with the means to forge armaments.

If they failed, it would merely be a loss of face, a humble compromise with the royal family, and the newly appointed bishop would be sent to the guillotine as a scapegoat—none of which would shake the Church’s foundation in the slightest.

They might even use the rumors they had previously spread to incite public opinion, convincing the masses that she was a depraved and shameless woman, and that the Church, unable to tolerate such disgrace, had led the people to "eliminate evil".

Since she already knew her death would be so absolute, with no chance of reprieve, why bother with actions that would only invite ridicule?

“What a pity, my dear…”

“I couldn’t see you one last time.”

She let out a soft sigh and set down her teacup.

“To face so many crossbows without a trace of panic—who are you, really? The noble swan of the banquet, Luxuria? Or perhaps the ‘Daughter of Lust’ who has stolen her body?”

A voice emerged from behind the group of armed fanatics. They parted respectfully to make way, revealing a young boy dressed in the robes of a Church bishop, a red robe tied around his waist, stepping forward.

“A red robe—the Church’s Red-Robed Bishop… Has the Church become so lax that they now appoint thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boys as regional bishops?” Luxuria shed her casual demeanor, her expression growing serious.

“Perhaps,” said Haeld, shrugging. “After years of studying in the Church’s schools, we’ve come to better understand the meaning of the ‘Scriptures’ and are more capable of shouldering the responsibility of building the Kingdom of Heaven.”

“Kingdom of Heaven?” 

Luxuria couldn’t help but laugh, retorting, “The Kingdom of Heaven you speak of—isn’t that the one filled with flowers and honey, where everyone is a lamb under the Messiah’s gaze?”

“Hmph, unfortunately, you won’t live to see that day.”

Ignoring Luxuria’s mockery, Haeld smirked and waved his hand, “Take her away!”

At his command, the fanatics surged forward, binding Luxuria’s hands and dragging her out of the manor—now reduced to rubble by catapult stones—before securing her to a cross for public display.

“What? Luxuria is to be ‘judged’ by the Church?!”

Twenty miles away from the manor, in a military camp, the Earl of Klistu, returning from his campaign, had barely dismounted his warhorse when he received this news—news that nearly made him faint from rage.

Indeed, after only half a month on the battlefield, the Earl of Klistu had returned in a victorious blaze, a triumph no one had anticipated.

It was all because he and the Earl of Covendson had taken part in a life-or-death gamble concerning the seven northern counties—a strategy of “home-swapping.”

Since the Northlanders had hastily assembled, it meant that only the most vigorous young men could quickly reach the frontlines.

Given their habit of bringing their families south to pillage and survive the winter, the slower-moving women, children, and livestock wouldn’t be able to keep up with such speed, leaving their herds detached from the main force—an ideal target.

So ideal, in fact, that the Earl of Klistu didn’t need to do much. He simply bypassed the Northlanders’ gathering points and marching routes, charging straight through to slaughter the livestock accompanying their families.

Losing livestock meant losing a source of food on the grasslands. But losing livestock without losing people meant the survival pressure on those families would skyrocket, eventually leading to starvation—one by one—until they were forced to sell themselves into slavery just to survive.

Simple, effortless, yet devastatingly effective.

As a result, many of the Northlanders ravaging the seven northern counties retreated to protect their families’ assets.

The seven northern counties gained time to mobilize their troops, swiftly fortifying their defenses to counter the delayed raids with precision.

The caveat was that the Earl of Covendson had to hold off the Northlanders invading two counties with the forces of just one—a daring move that could only be called a gamble.

Fortunately, they won the bet and returned victorious, racing home to surprise his wife.

But now, you’re telling me, fresh from victory, that my home has been smashed, my possessions stolen, my wife kidnapped, and tied to a stake to be burned?

“Damn the Church and all its kin!”

The Earl of Klistu was livid upon hearing this. The Church’s so-called “judgment”?

It was nothing more than stringing you up, cursing you to ruin, forcing your family to thank the Church’s scum, and then lighting the fire themselves—gleefully watching you burn alive in the flames, calling your screams the repentance of a dying demon.

The Church dared to challenge royal authority head-on? Was it their armed zealots giving them confidence, or had the kingdom’s standing army and knights grown weak?

Suppressing his fury, the enraged Earl of Klistu spurred his warhorse onward, leading his triumphant yet unrested knights toward the site of the Church’s “judgment”.

...

“Believers of the Church!”

“The Messiah loves us, shelters us, but there are always those in this world who fail to show gratitude! They are greedy, they are violent, they betray the merciful Messiah.”

“Yet the Messiah does not abandon them. Even if some lose their purity, even if some forsake their faith in him, he remains so compassionate that he inscribed the ‘Seven Sins’ to warn the world, hoping none would repeat those mistakes.”

“But there are always those who succumb to the demons within, seeking to trample the beautiful fold the Messiah has created!”

Haeld, possibly the youngest Red-Robed Bishop in the Church, stood atop the judgment platform, basking in the fervent worship of the congregation while loudly condemning Luxuria, bound to the cross.

Yet Luxuria, tied to the cross, gazed indifferently at the fanatics piling firewood beneath her feet. She didn’t struggle or wail. It was as if the one about to be “judged” wasn’t her, but rather she was watching someone else’s judgment—cold and detached as marble.

This didn’t faze Haeld, however.

He knew full well that all he needed to do was to satisfy the curiosity of the Church’s followers and onlookers, toss out some scraps, and wait for Luxuria to burn to ashes in the fire. Then, everything would be set in stone.

The Earl of Klistu’s revenge?

What of it? In the face of manipulated public opinion and the irreversible fact of her death, it would amount to nothing more than impotent rage.

“Luxuria! Wife of the Earl of Klistu! She defied the Messiah’s expectation of monogamy, giving in to her lust! Abandoning her husband, she held lascivious banquets, seeking out strangers to satisfy her desires!”

“She is a demon overtaken by ‘lust’! Occupying the shell of that once-elegant lady, she lures and corrupts the lambs under the Messiah’s care, leading them astray.”

The crowd below the platform buzzed with noise, some shocked by the verdict, but most blindly following along in silence.

“If a man comes into close contact with the demon overtaken by ‘lust,’ his vitality and soul will be drained, and she will entice these misguided lambs to offer themselves, devouring everything they have.”

“And the Earl of Klistu himself fell victim to her. There are even eyewitnesses who claim he was so bewitched by Luxuria that he offered his wife to other men at her banquets!”

The crowd grew restless, as if something was stirring them.

Feeling the disturbance, Haeld glanced toward the source of the noise. There, a group of fully armored plate knights advanced in orderly silence.

Leading them was a knight whose helm bore the tallest plume and the most ornate decorations, while a flagbearer behind him raised high the banner of the Earl of Klistu, proclaiming the allegiance of this cavalry.

The Earl of Klistu?

Haeld’s heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t he supposed to be fighting on the frontlines?

Unable to make sense of it, he turned back to Luxuria, but she kept her head lowered, her golden hair obscuring her face.

With the cavalry’s arrival, the tides had turned.

The towering, fully armored knights encircled the square. Silent and still, even their well-trained warhorses stood motionless, like statues of steel exuding an aura of slaughter.

Some onlookers, unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere, squeezed through gaps between the knights to flee. Thankfully, the knights paid them no mind, letting them escape this place of turmoil.

But when robed believers tried to slip away, they were met with the sharp tips of lances pressed against their chests, forcing them back under the threat of death.

“I believe the Earl of Klistu will see reason and not allow a demon to continue occupying Luxuria’s body, living as the ‘Daughter of Lust’ under her name, spreading her legs for any man, wouldn’t you agree?”

Haeld refused to yield. The Church’s scheme to seize Klistu’s domain in the chaos had clearly failed, but standing on the moral high ground of public opinion, he wasn’t out of options yet—

At the very least, he could use the crowd to ensure his own escape.

“I firmly believe the Earl of Klistu was bewitched by the ‘Daughter of Lust,’ mistaking her for the original Lady Luxuria.”

“But sadly, the one on the pyre now is not the real Lady Luxuria, but a demon who has taken her body!”

He stepped forward boldly, his grand speech from the platform calming the restless believers like a soothing balm.

“Everyone knows her wickedness—she seduces men, betrays her fidelity to you, pretends to be pure while indulging in debauchery.”

“Surely, Earl, you wouldn’t want the entire kingdom to know your wife is the lascivious ‘Daughter of Lust,’ would you?”

The fully armored Earl of Klistu dismounted his horse, a knight’s sword at his waist and a shield in hand, walking alone toward the platform where Haeld and Luxuria were on.

The armed believers instinctively aimed their weapons at the approaching Earl, but none dared to act—for the knights encircling the square had already raised their lances, their warhorses stamping eagerly.

Step by step, he advanced; step by step, the believers retreated.

Finally, he stepped onto the hastily built platform, the creaking wooden boards groaning under his armored weight, as if protesting the burden of this warrior.

Haeld stood smugly to the side, certain that the Earl wouldn’t dare to touch him.

After all, it was just a woman, a manor, an incident—traded for a rising status in the kingdom.

Whether he sent his wife to her death himself or ruined his future for her sake—even if he killed Haeld in a fit of rage—it wouldn’t change the fact that the label of ‘Daughter of Lust’ would stick to her forever.

The new king, after all, was a man who valued his reputation above all else.

When the armored warrior reached Luxuria, the beautiful woman closed her eyes.

She had no escape. As she’d said before: knowing the noose would kill her, she couldn’t stop it from tightening around her neck.

The silent warrior brushed her hair aside, gazing at her beautiful face as she awaited death, and murmured in a deep, magnetic voice:

“Luxuria, do you remember what happened ten years ago?”

She flinched as if shocked, pulling away from the fingers caressing her cheek, choking back a sob as she turned her head aside.

“Yes, ten years… If it were her, she’d remember, wouldn’t she?”

He spoke to himself, as if struggling to accept it, or perhaps reminiscing about the past.

“Hey, kid in the red robes, bear witness…”

Hearing the Earl’s forlorn tone, Haeld’s lips curled into a grin, thinking the count was about to send his wife to her doom. Ignoring the slight in his words, he smirked:

“With pleasure.”

He watched as the Earl drew his knightly sword with a flourish, pressing its edge against Luxuria’s neck.

“The demon occupying my wife Luxuria’s body!”

“The one who stole my wife’s face!”

“The ‘Daughter of Lust,’ Luxuria!”

“I, as the Earl of the Klistu domain in the human kingdom, declare!”

“I permit you to live in this world as my wife, Luxuria!”

“I permit you to interact with all in this world with my wife Luxuria’s face!”

“I permit you to make lewd, shameful expressions with my wife Luxuria’s appearance!”

“I permit you to commit and indulge in all the sins of ‘lust’ from the Church’s ‘Seven Sins’ with my wife Luxuria’s body!”

Silence fell over the square.

No one had expected the Earl to make such a proclamation. Only Luxuria trembled as she lifted her head and opened her eyes. In a daze, it was as if she’d returned to that dandelion field ten years ago, unable to distinguish past from present…

A golden-haired girl holding white roses giggled as she looked at the shy young knight.
Suddenly, she drew his longsword and rested it on his shoulder, performing a knighting ceremony in her own way.

"I, in the name of Luxuria, declare,"

"I permit you to live in this world as my husband, Luxuria’s husband."

"I permit you to interact with all in this world as my husband, Luxuria’s husband."

"I permit you to share my bed as my husband, Luxuria’s husband."

"I permit you to make me a wife bearing your child as my husband, Luxuria’s husband."

"And… In return…"

"In return!"

"I demand you offer me your eternal loyalty and life."

"You must offer me your eternal loyalty and life!"

"With me as the beginning…"

"With me as the beginning…"

Tears streaked down her face.

"Don’t just stand there, fool! Say something…"

It was a vow that belonged only to the two of them, a lifelong promise they’d never forget…

A vow.

“…and with you as the end.”

Sweet, and filled with love.

“Fool…”

On the platform, Haeld snapped back to reality, realizing what had just happened.

A knighting!

He dared to use a knighting ceremony to anoint a woman? A woman branded as the "Daughter of Lust"!

"You! You dare to knight a demon!"

Swish!

A flash of cold light.

Haeld’s head soared through the air, his face frozen in disbelief.

Blood spurted from his headless corpse, staining the knight’s armor crimson and tainting the hem of the girl’s pure white dress.

"I didn’t knight a demon. I merely…"

"Knighted a poor soul occupying my wife Luxuria’s body."

The knight stood tall before the girl, answering calmly.

The believers below the platform went mad. Brandishing their weapons, they surged forward, determined to climb the platform and kill this "sinner bewitched by a demon", only to be met and felled by the sinner’s deft sword and shield.

The fully armored knights encircling the square spurred their horses, leveling their lances and advancing in unison like an unstoppable wall.

Parry, thrust.

The towering figure shielded the girl behind him, immovable as a mountain even against a tide of enemies.

The blood of the faithful stained the platform red, and the girl’s white dress could not escape its fate.

It turned the dress—once a symbol of purity—from white to a deep, purplish red, then a blackish hue.

Galloping, wailing.

The line of knights charged forward like a plow, cutting through anything that dared stand in their way.

It felt like an instant, yet also an eternity…

The sounds of slaughter gradually faded, leaving only the occasional groan of agony as a backdrop.

The girl, her golden hair now stained with blood, slowly raised her head. Before her stood a knight, equally drenched in crimson.

He was terrifying, like a knight of hell from legend.

But why? In her eyes, this knight was so noble… like a hero.

Ah, of course.

She was the Church-designated "Daughter of Lust". How could a “demon” fear the "demon" who saved her?

"Fool…"