Chapter 26: The Paradise City and a Test of Resolve

The party’s current destination:

A place called “Paradise,” the stage for the western arc’s main episode.

The great city, Paradis.

To describe it briefly, it’s an utterly unremarkable place.

A city so plain it lacks any distinct features.

So ordinary, you’d wonder if it could blend into any part of the continent without anyone questioning its presence.

Honestly, the city itself feels far removed from the grandiose name “Paradise.”

That is, if it weren’t smack in the middle of the lawless western continent.

Imagine a hell where you’re doomed to endless suffering. If there’s a place in that hell where the pain is slightly less, how would you feel?

No matter what you choose, suffering is inevitable, but you’d still call that place “paradise.”

…What’s that? Calling it “paradise” when you’re suffering anyway is too much of an exaggeration?

Alright, let me put it this way.

Being poked in the side with a finger versus having your lower half endlessly regenerated and hacked with an axe.

If your punishment switched from the latter to the former, what would you think?

Wouldn’t you immediately think of “salvation” and “paradise”?

That’s what the great city of Paradis is.

A place that drastically reduces the level of misery, allowing you to chase fleeting happiness.

A place where, if you keep your wits, you can avoid getting your head lopped off.

A lifeline as thin as a thread for the weak.

A sweet, honey-like respite for the strong.

That’s why it’s called “Paradise,” and everyone entering the west aims to reach it.

Of course, most end up as sex slaves or depart for the underworld before making it, thanks to the brutal journey.

Our party was no exception to this harsh trek.

Endless attacks from lunatics.

An environment ill-suited for travel.

The party was growing exhausted, and eventually, Carl sustained a shallow wound in battle.

The priestess quickly healed him, resolving the issue, but it was a dangerous sign that everyone’s fatigue had reached its peak.

After discussion, we decided to halt the forced march and take a brief rest, marking our first honey-sweet break in days.

“Phew…”

Exhausted, the priestess discarded her usual pretense and flopped onto the ground.

Snore, snore.

As if in her own bedroom, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

She must’ve been beyond tired.

Glancing at the others, they weren’t much better off.

Only Carl, with some energy left, was reviewing the recent battle with a grim expression.

It was the first time I’d seen him so serious.

Something about it worried me, so I approached and spoke softly.

“You okay?”

Staring at his wounded spot, he relaxed and grinned.

“Worried about me?”

“Worried? Nah, just don’t want you slowing us down. If it doesn’t hurt, we’re good.”

“Always so dishonest.”

His playful chuckle annoyed me, so I smacked his broad back hard.

But he seemed genuinely hurt, tapping the wounded area with a serious face.

“It does sting a bit.”

“…Need some ointment?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Where’s it hurt?”

I grabbed ointment from Stroheim’s bag and looked at Carl’s face, but I couldn’t spot the wound.

All I saw was his smooth face, bathed in the sunset’s glow.

After searching for a while and finding no injury, I realized I’d been tricked and smacked his back again, snapping.

“There’s no wound!”

“Really? Must’ve been phantom pain. I swear it stung, but it’s gone now.”

“Bullshit!”

His cheeky grin pissed me off.

How did I end up stuck with this guy?

I should’ve gone my own way after escaping the Great Forest.

Why did I accept his offer to join?

Slapping my forehead with a groan, I felt a small, petty desire take root.

I wanted to wipe that smug look off Carl’s face and replace it with panic.

Why this urge hit me, I don’t know.

Probably just the whimsical thinking of a witch.

My clever witch brain quickly devised a plan. I opened the ointment jar, smeared some on my fingers, and—

Rub, rub.

I slathered it all over the spot he claimed hurt—his cheek.

“…?”

His smug smile shattered, replaced by confusion and embarrassment.

He looked so dumb, forgetting to breathe.

It was hilarious. I burst into laughter, satisfied, and teased him.

“Wow, you look so stupid.”

“…”

“How does someone… pfft! Make such a dumb face? Hehe!”

“Sigh…”

Carl closed his eyes tightly, sighing.

Was he that embarrassed by his dumb expression?

He covered his flushed face and tried to leave.

But, exhausted from the battles, he stumbled as soon as he stood.

I sat him back down, grinning.

“You’re exhausted. Just sleep. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“…With that face, no one’s gonna believe you’re standing watch.”

“Huh?”

“You’re about to pass out, idiot. Worry about yourself before others.”

I hadn’t noticed, but his words made me realize I was on the verge of collapse.

Realizing it and staying awake were two different things.

The sleep demon, now exposed, asserted its dominance, clouding my mind.

Unable to resist, I passed out, hearing someone urgently calling me.

They say witches steal your soul.

I didn’t believe it before meeting one, but after encountering Beatrice, I felt the weight of those words.

From our first meeting, she threatened to cut off my unused lower half, and even her unconscious seduction with that sly smile.

The witch I met in the Great Forest was far more wicked than the village chief warned.

Her terrifying wickedness had me swaying like a reed in the wind.

And now—

In my 21 years as a virgin, I faced the greatest crisis of my life.

The witch was testing the limits of my endurance.

She collapsed like a marionette with cut strings, and I caught her.

Whether intentional or not, she fell right into my arms.

The soft sensation from her chest made me panic, but I recalled the horrific muscular men from the west and suppressed my urges.

…That was close.

Her slender, soft body nearly made me lose control.

Thinking I’d mastered my desires, I sighed in relief.

But sadly, the witch’s wicked test wasn’t over.

Sniff, sniff.

Maybe because she was nestled in my arms?

Her scent wafted up, assaulting my nose.

What was it?

Sour, yet somehow fragrant?

She hadn’t bathed in ages, so it should’ve stunk, but the addictive scent overwhelmed me.

As it hit me, a strange arousal crept in, and I tried reciting the imperial swordsmanship manual.

But—

“…I can’t remember?”

Had this wicked witch cast some spell? My mind was filled with thoughts of her, and I couldn’t recall even the first chapter I’d memorized.

This was bad.

I couldn’t stop these perverse thoughts.

Sure, I could just lay her on the ground and be done with it.

But my desire-consumed body and mind refused to comply.

“If not now, when will you ever enjoy this?”

“She’s begging to be ravaged! It’s mating time! Mating time!!!”

“Big, soft, smooth, firm, elastic, slender…”

“A little groping’s fine, right? She’s out cold—she won’t know.”

Vile thoughts took over my brain.

I pinched my thigh to stop them, but my runaway mind wouldn’t return.

To make matters worse—

“Mm…”

Was her position uncomfortable? She let out a cute moan and pressed closer.

It was torture for someone trying to hold out.

…Why did the girl I fell for at first sight have to do this?

She always kept her distance, but now she was so close, and the gap was driving me wild.

“Erection!!!”*

The heat in my lower half wouldn’t subside.

Was this good luck?

Or terribly bad luck?

The silver lining was that her soft body’s allure chased away my fatigue, helping me stay vigilant.

“…Who knew having food you can’t eat in front of you would be this painful?”

The fact that I couldn’t touch her freely left a gaping void.

Sure, she’s out cold—couldn’t I just grope her?

Tempting, but—

“Once you start… you’ll never stop. Guaranteed.”

I knew starting would mean no end, so I couldn’t touch her.

And if she woke up while I was messing around, all the goodwill I’d built would vanish, right?

That thought finally shook off my vile desires.

Suppressing the endless urges through the night, I gained an epiphany I hadn’t even glimpsed before.