It was a poky room.

The only furniture in this almost-empty room is a cabinet and a bed.

The mattress is not a simple mass of straw bedding often used by villagers, but an actual cotton-stuffed mattress. It is well made, of the sort that noble homes might use. However, this mattress is designed for functionality and so it looks plain, without any decorating.

"Huh..huh .huhh.."

A naked man sit on the mattress and breathing hard.

He is well into his middle years, and gluttony has made his frame flabby.

His looks has originally been average at best, but putting on the pounds has made him that much uglier. He looks like a pig from every angle except head. 

Incidentally, pigs are intelligent and cute animals who loved cleanliness. The word “pig” in this case is a derogatory term used to describe stupid, boorish and filthy people.

The chubby man raises his fist — and punches down onto the mattress.

The sound of flesh striking flesh rang forth.

A look of delight blossoms on Stefan’s face. The sensation of smashing flesh travelled up his arm, and his body shivers even as goosebumps of pleasure sprouted on him.

“Uhhh…”

He slowly raises his fist, whose knuckles are now stained with sticky gore.

Stefan is pressing down a naked woman.

Her face is swollen and bruised, and the skin is flecked with spots of blood. Her nose is broken and the blood leaking from it has clotted on her skin. Her lips and eyelids are similarly swollen, completely distorting her originally beautiful face, There are bruises on the rest of her body, but the damage is worst on her face. The sheets around them are stained with old, dried blood.

She has been trying to protect her face with her hands until just now, but now her arms lay limp on the bed. Her hair spread out messily on the mattress, like it is floating in water.

“Oi, what’s with you? Tired already? Huh?!”

The woman seems to be unconscious.

Stefan raises his fist and punchs downwards.

With a thud, his fist connects with her cheekbone, and pain surges up Stefan’s hand.

His face twists.

“Cheh. That hurt, you bitch!”

He angrily punches her again.

The mattress creaked in time with the thud of flesh striking flesh. Her swollen skin split, staining his knuckles with blood. Said blood splattered stickily onto the mattress, dying it with carmine spots.

“…Uuuu…”

The woman no longer struggles despite the beating. There is no response from her body.

Non-stop bludgeoning like this could end up killing someone. However, the woman has survived, but not because Stefan has been merciful. The woman clung to life because the mattress has dissipated the force of the blows. Has she been beaten while lying on a harder bed, she might well be dead by now.

Stefan has been brutal, but not because he knows about that effect of the mattress. Rather, it is because the woman’s death does not concern him. All that is needed is to pay to dispose of the problem.

In truth, Stefan had beaten several women to death in this place.

However, he had to pay for the cleanup every time he killed someone, which strained his wallet. Thus, he unconsciously goes easy on them.

As he looks down at the woman’s unmoving face, Stefan licked his lips.

He is one of two most influential noble in central Dioral region. Like other higher-ups, he rules with iron fist. No one could oppose him in land owned by him. However, by being a tyrant, villagers left his large demesne. 

Now, he commands bandits which terrorize other demesnes. So, villagers couldn't evacuate that easily especially Stephan also bribes other nobles. 

This region is perfect for satisfying his unique sexual fetishes. Normal aristocrats would not permit their villagers to be treated in such ways. Well, perhaps there is such place, but Stefan does not know of any such places.

His actions even reached the place in the south but they did nothing except gave him a gentle warning. 

However—

The embers of a flame blazes up in the depths of his belly — the flames of wrath.

This emotion is directed at the golden haired woman, who had rudely scolded him from above the walls.

"I am Myla Hyuutia, a ruler of this region, rule off your allegation. This land is formerly ours and we did the right thing to occupy what originally belongs to us. Now, Count Stefan, return to your place an don't bother out sovereignty!"

Myla Hyuutia's stern voice while looking down at him is being played in Stefan's mind now.

"—That bitch!”

His face turns red with anger, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He imagines the face of the beautiful noble daughter whom he should have taken to this bed — Myla Hyuutia— on the body of the woman beneath him. Stefan gathers the anger within himself into his fist, and lays into the helpless woman.

Fresh blood flies with every blow he strikes.

“If only, if only I could smash that face of hers! How good would that feel!”

He rains punch after punch into the woman’s face.

His fist strikes her cheek, and a surprising quantity of blood spurt from between the woman’s swollen lips. Perhaps she has cut the inside of her mouth on her teeth.

The woman’s sole response to this beating was to tremble slightly.

“—Huu… huu…”

After a few more strikes, Stefan is panting as his shoulders rises and falls. His body and forehead are slick with sweat.

Stefan looks at the woman he has pinned underneath him. Her condition could only be described as “tragic”, and she is close to death at this point. What lay there is a puppet whose strings has been cut.

Stefan swallows audibly.

Nothing pleases him more than to rape a battered and bloody woman. The prettier she had originally been, the better. There is no better way to satisfy his sadistic desires than to destroy something beautiful.

"If only I could fuck that woman like this…”

Stefan ponders of the haughty features which belong to the young lady of the house of Hyuutia. She is as beautiful as the Queen of Ferelden he once met in Denerim, who is herself known as the most beautiful woman in the Ferelden Kingdom.

Of course, Stefan is very clear that he would not have the chance to abuse such a high-class lady. The only people Stefan could indulge his fetishes with are the dregs of humanity who have been dumped into this god forsaken, to be used and then discarded.

"How I wish I could beat up a woman like that — beat her to death.”

How happy and satisfied would he be if he could do that?

Of course, that is nothing more than a madman’s ravings.

Stefan looks down at the woman crushed beneath him. Her bare bosom is moving slightly. He smiles lewdly as he confirms that fact.

Stefan reaches down to grab the woman’s breasts, deforming the soft flesh between his fingers.

The woman does not react at all. She is on the verge of death and could not respond to such trivial pain. The woman Stefan is squeezing differed from a doll only in the softness of her body.

However, Stefan is somewhat dissatisfied by her lack of resistance.

Save me.

Spare me.

I’m sorry.

Please stop.

The woman’s cries echoed in Stefan’s mind.

Should he have fucked her while she still had the strength left to scream?

Stefan continues squeezing her breasts, a vague sense of regret in his heart.

Stefan smiles lewdly, and begins to slake his bestial lust. He seizes one of the pinned woman’s bare legs and spread it wide. Her emaciate, slender leg is thin enough that Stefan could encircle it with one hand.

Stefan presses himself between the woman’s legs.

***

The smell of cheap alcohol hung in the air. It blends immediately with the stench of fresh blood, viscera and internal wastes, brewing up a revolting odour.

Two tall man and a short man are sitting with bottles of liquor held in their hands.

"That pig lord must be really pissed about what happened this morning."

Other men laugh at Atir, short man's word. 

Almo replies "Still I never expect the noble and his daughter could resist us like that...still, that blond bitch is damn hot."

Almade who is the only one sitting on the floor says, "So, what are we going to do now. That wall is impossible. We had checked the river until Orlais and they put a weird blockade along the other side."

Atir replies, "It's weird. On our side of the forest, not only there are many trees, which are troublesome to cut, they even logs along our side of land. How in the world they carried those large things..no, how they even cut down those large trees?" 

They are reminded to several logs that are laying along the woods beside the Orlais river at their side of land while there is mud wall long the other side of the river. Crossing by boat is impossible and individual crossing is also very tall order. 

"Now, we can't even carry boats to the river. But the lake at the other side.. although connected to Korcari Wilds... seem to have no barrier. Only guard towers."

"We might be shot down by those towers before we could reach the lake shore." Almo complains. 

"We might be experienced bandits but we never fight against walls."

The three men sigh.