Kaida's boots slammed against the marble floor, each step echoing through the cursed manor like a war drum.

Her vision was red—literally red, her rage painting everything in crimson as she stormed through the hallways.

'Pregnant. That bastard got her pregnant.'

The thought looped in her mind like a poison, making her teeth grind so hard she tasted copper.

She had one mission: find Viktor and rip his fucking head off.

"Kaida, wait!" Mira's voice called from behind, but it was distant, drowned out by the roaring in Kaida's ears.

She reached a corridor lined with doors, her instincts guiding her toward the one at the end. Something about it screamed 'him'. The bastard's scent, his arrogance—it leaked from under the door like a foul miasma.

Without hesitation, Kaida raised her leg and 'kicked'.

The door exploded inward with a satisfying ''CRACK'', the wood splintering as it swung open.

But the moment her boot hit the floor inside—

'Slip.'

"Wha—!"

Her eyes went wide, arms windmilling as her foot skidded on something slick and wet. For a split second, she was airborne, gravity pulling her down toward a humiliating face-plant.

But Kaida wasn't just any woman. She was a guard, trained in balance and combat. Her body twisted mid-fall, her hand shooting out to grab the doorframe.

She caught herself, boots scraping against the fluid-slicked floor as she steadied, panting.

Her head snapped up, ready to unleash hell.

And then she froze.

The room was a disaster. The bed—a massive, expensive-looking thing with silk sheets—was absolutely 'drenched'.

The sheets were soaked through, clinging to the mattress, and the floor around it glistened with puddles of... fluid. Clear, viscous liquid that reflected the dim candlelight.

And on that bed, spread-eagle and utterly wrecked, was a woman Kaida vaguely recognized—Helena, one of the manor maids she'd seen earlier.

Her legs were splayed open, trembling slightly even in unconsciousness. Her pussy was a mess—swollen, red, and 'gushing'.

A thick mixture of creamy white seed and her own juices leaked out in obscene rivulets, pooling beneath her ass and dripping onto the already-soaked sheets.

Her breasts heaved with each labored breath, nipples stiff and reddened, like they'd been sucked and bitten raw.

Her head lolled to the side, eyes closed, mouth parted, a thin line of drool trailing down her chin.

She looked like she'd been fucked into oblivion. Literally.

And standing in front of that catastrophic scene, calm as a fucking spring morning, was Viktor.

He was buttoning his pants.

Slowly. Methodically. Like he had all the time in the world.

He glanced up at her, one dark eyebrow arching in mild amusement as he tucked his shirt in. His hair was slightly disheveled, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, but otherwise, he looked... 'composed'. Like he hadn't just obliterated a woman's sanity with his dick.

"Be aware," Viktor said, his voice smooth and infuriatingly casual, "there is fluid on the floor."

Kaida's mouth opened. Closed. Twitched.

Her eyes darted from the bed to the floor, where the puddles spread like small lakes.

Helena had apparently turned into a fountain at some point, spraying her pleasure all over the goddamn room. The bed.

The floor. Probably the fucking walls if Kaida looked hard enough.

Her gaze snapped back to Viktor.

Then to the bed.

Then to Viktor again.

Her brain short-circuited. Words failed. Thoughts collapsed into a single, primal scream of rage.

'This. Fucking. Bastard.'

"Fucker," she hissed, her voice low and deadly. Her hand instinctively reached for her sword hilt—but it wasn't there. She'd left it outside. "You are 'dead'."

She took a step forward, murder blazing in her red eyes.

But before she could lunge—

Two slender arms wrapped around her from behind, yanking her back with surprising strength.

"Stop!" Mira's voice was panicked, breathless. She must have sprinted after Kaida, because her grip was trembling as she hauled her friend backward. "Kaida, stop!"

"Let me go!" Kaida snarled, pushing forward, her fingers clawing toward the doorframe for leverage. But the floor was slick, her boots had no traction, and Mira's grip was firm. She couldn't generate the force she needed. "Let me 'go', Mira!"

"You're not allowed to hurt him!" Mira hissed, pulling harder.

Kaida's fingers hooked onto the doorframe, her knuckles white. "You are 'dead', Viktor! I will 'kill' you! Do you hear me?! ''I will fucking kill you!''"

Viktor, for his part, just shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He finished buttoning his pants, slipped his hands into his pockets, and walked toward her with the lazy confidence of a predator approaching a caged animal.

He stopped right in front of her, close enough that Kaida could smell him—sweat, sex, and something darker, something dangerous.

His dark eyes locked onto hers.

And then, his expression shifted. The smirk faded, replaced by something... thoughtful. Calculating.

"Now that I remember," Viktor said slowly, his gaze narrowing as he studied her face. "I felt I have seen that red hair before." He tilted his head. "Do you have a brother who is a knight?"

Kaida's rage stuttered. Her breath caught.

'What?'

Viktor's eyes sharpened, his voice firm. "He firmly asked, as if testing her. "A knight with red hair. Tell me—do you?"

Kaida's grip on the doorframe loosened slightly. Her mind raced. 'How the hell does he know?'

But Viktor wasn't done.

"Razarok..." Viktor murmured, the name rolling off his tongue like a dark incantation. His eyes flicked back to hers, watching her reaction. "Was it?"

Kaida's world stopped.

Her feet halted mid-struggle. Her eyes went wide, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

"What did you say?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Viktor's smirk returned, slow and victorious. He'd found her nerve. A coincidence, maybe. But a 'good' coincidence.

He glanced back at Mira, who was equally shocked, her mouth hanging open. Clearly, even Mira didn't know about this brother angle.

Viktor's mind churned. The red hair. The eyes. The fury. It all clicked into place.

In his previous life, before he'd returned to this point in time, there had been a man—a demon of a knight named Razarok.

A red-haired monster who had single-handedly butchered entire noble families loyal to Emperor Leo.

One of those families belonged to Marcus, that pathetic gay bastard in the emperor's harem.

Marcus's entire lineage had been annihilated by Razarok's blade.

And now, standing before him, was a woman with the same fiery red hair. The same burning red eyes.

"So," Viktor said, his tone casual but laced with knowing, "are you the daughter of Duke Creman?"

Kaida's jaw clenched.

Her shock morphed into something colder. Sharper.

Before Viktor could react, she surged forward—breaking free of Mira's weakened grip—and grabbed his collar with both hands, yanking him down to her eye level.

"Stop this strange bullshit, you asshole," she snarled, her face inches from his. Her breath was hot, furious. "I don't think I'll be able to control my hand from killing you."

Viktor didn't flinch. He just stared into her blazing red eyes, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.

"Is that so?" he murmured.

And behind them, on the bed, Helena let out a soft, unconscious moan, her body twitching as another spurt of fluid leaked from her ruined pussy.

"Mmngh~"

'!'

'Th-this... perverted bastard—!', Kaida's body was trembling and had already reached breaking after hearing that moan, clearly shocked, but her eyes widened when she sensed a very subtle but unmistakable presence outside the manor gates.

'—a killing intent!?'

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