Gasp!

All of the villagers were shocked, their eyes widening as they, for the first time, heard words of such low, derogatory vulgarity from a nobleman.

"D-did he just—mhm—!" Their mouths clasped shut as they looked with widened gazes toward him.

Viktor opened his mouth, exaggerated his words, showed them his middle finger, and yelled,

"You wrinkled assholes, shut your tiny ass-like mouths or I will impale bamboo in your butts until it gags your mouths!"

"KIEEKH—!"

'!'

The crowd fell silent, shocked into stillness.

"Wh-what—!?" someone stammered from the back.

Kaida's hand moved toward her dagger, her red eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. Viktor was about to create trouble here—she could feel it.

The kind of trouble that would result in these villagers taking crude action—stone-pelting or some other pitiful form of retaliation that would force her to defend him to protect her mission.

'I'm just trying to save my sister,' she told herself, though the justification felt hollow even in her own mind.

Viktor raised a hand, and she froze. The gesture was casual, almost lazy, but carried absolute authority.

He'd already seen the people around him stepping back. His words had given them the impression he was done with them, that he was preparing to leave.

And they were backpedaling because, in the end, they were like dogs—they could bark, they could eat what was thrown to them, they could wag their tails when it suited them.

But when faced with real confrontation, they folded.

"If I hear a single moan from any of you bastards," Viktor said, his voice cold and dismissive, his eyes sweeping across the crowd one final time, "I will pour poison in your eyes and throw you into bushes with pigs in heat!"

"N-NOOOOO!" Hearing his voice instantly, one of the women ran away as everyone was sucked into silence.

Their whole lives, they had never seen—no, never heard—such vocabulary used as abuse.

Even Mira and Helena trembled as they lowered their gazes in embarrassment.

"Y-young master is too—" Helena wanted to correct him but stopped, knowing the villagers were at fault and her young master was indeed too dirty now.

"Woah..." Mira, blinking from her place and observing him, felt a strange rise in his image. She thought he would maintain a good image outside and be dirty only with his wives, but he...

'You look so hot... darling~'

'I want to beat these bastards!' Viktor controlled his anger. He lifted his head, his dark eyes seeming to pierce through each person individually.

His expression was that perfect combination of nobleman arrogance and barely restrained violence—the look that said if not for his title as lord, he would have buried them in dog poop.

Then he turned and walked toward the carriage, one hand running through his hair in frustration.

'Fuckers. I need to do so much work!'

The weight of it crashed down on him.

Establishing proper governance, creating employment systems, purifying the land, teaching these people basic survival skills they should have already possessed... The list went on and on.

"Young master!" Helena called after him, hurrying to catch up. She had seen his frustration, the way his jaw clenched, and misinterpreted it as depression from the villagers' harsh words. Her maternal instincts surged. "Don't let them—"

Mira grabbed his arm from the other side, her face showing similar concern. "My lord, don't listen to them—"

"Oi, I have been noticing since earlier," Viktor said flatly, cutting off their worry before it could spiral. "You both are intentionally trying to tease me, right?"

Though he didn't have proof or could even speak it up, he noticed how when he accepted their help after waking up from the nightmare, Mira instantly began showing her greedy self.

Clearly both women had become wet too quickly, showing they were horny even before he woke up from the nightmare.

After all, how could Helena have wetness from dried fingering and Mira give him a stroke clearly meant to arouse him?

It happened once, and he accepted it was genuine care. But now they were acting like this again—though they were genuinely caring for him—unaware that they were just igniting his lust.

These women were literally playing with fire if he had to say it that way.

'You two will really corrupt me!'

His hands slid around both women's waists, pulling them close against his sides as they walked. His fingers settled on the curves of their hips, gripping possessively.

The remaining villagers—perhaps two dozen in total, since the village sprawled across vast acreage but had few surviving inhabitants—watched in confused silence.

Viktor's hands slid lower as they approached the carriage.

Both palms cupped the soft, round flesh of their asses through their dresses, his fingers sinking into the yielding meat.

"M-My lord!" Helena gasped, her brown eyes widening. She could feel every ridge of his fingers through the thin fabric, the heat of his palm against her rear. Her thick body tensed against his side.

Mira's face flushed crimson, spreading from her cheeks down her neck. "Y-Young master, w-we're... people are watching..."

Her voice came out breathy, embarrassed. She could feel eyes on them—dozens of hollow, confused eyes tracking their movements.

"So?" Viktor's grip tightened, his fingers digging into both cheeks hard enough to make them stumble slightly. The flesh compressed beneath his hands, spilling between his fingers. "Let them watch."

Their embarrassment was palpable, radiating off them in waves. Helena's maternal dignity warred with the shameful arousal creeping through her body, making her thighs press together involuntarily. The memory of her earlier orgasm in the carriage was still fresh, her pussy still sensitive and slick.

Mira bit her lower lip hard enough to leave marks, her face burning as she felt her body respond to the rough handling. Her pussy clenched involuntarily, a pulse of heat spreading through her core despite—or perhaps because of—the public nature of the display.

Then came the smacks.

Viktor's hands lifted.

A moment of anticipation—both women's breaths catching—

'SMACK!'

'SMACK!'

Two sharp sounds echoed through the village square as Viktor's palms cracked against their asses simultaneously. The sound was obscenely loud in the sudden silence, reverberating off the crumbling walls of nearby buildings.

"Ah!" Mira's eyes shot wide open, her hand flying back instinctively to clutch her stinging buttock. The sharp pain bloomed across her rear like fire—hot, intense, both terrible and thrilling.

"Nngh!" Helena's thick body jolted forward, her own hand moving to cover her ass as the pain spread from the point of impact. Her flesh jiggled from the force of the blow, and she could feel the heat building beneath her palm.

Both women froze, their faces flushed deep red, hands gripping their own butts as they turned to stare at him in shock and humiliation.

The sting continued to pulse, waves of sensation making their skin tingle. They could feel exactly where each finger had landed, could trace the outline of his handprints on their flesh even through their dresses.

Viktor just gave them a wink.

That cocky, arrogant smirk played on his lips—the expression of a man who knew exactly what he'd done and felt zero remorse for it.

His dark eyes glinted with amusement as he turned and climbed into the carriage, settling into his seat like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn't just spanked two women in front of an audience of starving villagers.

He tapped the back of Aldrin's seat casually. "Let's keep moving. We need to check the other side of the villa—"

Then came a child's voice, sharp and directly rippling through the atmosphere.

"You... you! not... hit Mother!"

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