The Ticking Clock Resumes

"Look at that! Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a spectacular body!"

Back in the world of Terramyr, long ago on the Western Continent, during an opulent social gathering that brought together the high aristocracy, a human noble named Gurum stood beside his faithful servant, who was discreetly pointing out a young and dazzling princess belonging to the royal lineage of the Elven Kingdom.

"And look at those long ears, sir! Without a doubt, she is the true princess of the Elven Kingdom!"

Upon observing her and listening to his subordinate's assertions, Gurum was instantly captivated by her exotic beauty.

"..."

As a result, the noble froze on the spot, utterly paralyzed with a look of absolute astonishment etched across his face.

(...She really is breathtaking.)

In particular, the noble—who harbored an insatiable, deep-seated fetish for lower extremities—was utterly incapable of tearing his gaze away from the elven princess's legs.

(...Especially those slender legs... They're like works of art...)

Ensheathed in flawless white silk stockings that seemed to possess almost hypnotic properties, they sent Gurum’s mind spiraling down dark and forbidden paths.

(If I get the chance, I’d love to have dinner with the princess, and after a few drinks, I'd love to lay with her once she's a little drunk...)

At that time, Gurum held the title of one of the wealthiest men in human society; a position of immense opulence that had mistakenly convinced him that money was a master key capable of buying and bending virtually anything in the world.

"Go fetch Vanderlu!"

Driven by that arrogant mentality, compounded by the fact that the young woman's appearance far surpassed that of any courtesan or even the most beautiful human woman of that era, the wealthy noble couldn't help but salivate as he imagined what it would be like to possess her and subject her entirely to his whim.

"Yes, right away, sir!"

Yet, even back then—a period before the invading Demon King from another world descended to unleash war and precipitate humanity's subsequent betrayal of the proud elves—both races already maintained extremely fragile diplomatic relations marked by deep, tense distrust.

"I must verify it first."

Opting for political caution, Gurum decided not to act rashly. Instead, he made a calculated gesture in private while accepting a crystal goblet of wine from a passing waiter, retiring to drink quietly in a secluded corner of the hall.

(Glug, glug~)

However, due to his striking and elegant height—which made him stand out effortlessly even in the dimness of the ballroom—combined with his ruggedly handsome facial features, several lovely elven women approached him throughout the night to try and court him or lavish him with compliments.

"...Haaah... It's nice weather today..."

Despite the various attempts at seduction around him, Gurum calmly rejected them all, keeping his cold, undivided attention fixed exclusively on his true and coveted target.

(I wonder what those legs taste like...)

Immersed entirely in his obsession, Gurum's mind was saturated with inappropriate thoughts—an endless stream of lascivious and depraved fantasies dedicated exclusively to the elven princess, desperately yearning to devour every inch of her figure in the privacy of his chambers.

(Those slender, flawless, and absolutely gorgeous legs moving with an almost insulting elegance beneath the hem of her silk dress. They are perfect. Every inch of her skin looks sculpted by the gods themselves just to please my exquisite taste—a delicacy that ordinary peasants could never begin to comprehend or value properly. It fascinates me, it obsesses me to the point of madness, just imagining how those delicate limbs will tremble when she finally falls into my hands. What face will she make when I break her? How will those perfectly shaped legs quiver when she finally understands that her fate is completely sealed under my control?)

Accustomed to a life of unbridled luxury and absolute comfort, the noble had developed a chronic inner void; ordinary wealth no longer stimulated him, and what he truly craved were twisted games, intense thrills, and the dangerous adrenaline of possessing the forbidden.

"I can't wait."

Fueled by that insatiable drive, Gurum had spared no expense. He had thoroughly tracked down and located the clandestine event where this exclusive gathering would take place, paying an absurd fortune to secure a privileged spot at the party.

"Ah, Lord Gurum, there you are."

Interrupting his impure musings, Vanderlu—his trusted subordinate and widely known in the underworld as the highest-ranking slave trader on the continent—approached stealthily, hurrying to pay his respects to his master.

"So, you've set your sights on... Princess Adeline this time?"

However, upon reaching him and following the direction of his lustful gaze, Vanderlu deliberately lowered his voice to a cautious whisper.

"Perhaps I am overstepping, Lord Gurum, but... perhaps you should look for another target."

After all, right in the middle of a high elven society gathering, even without looking with insolence upon their royalty, the mere act of uttering their princess's name aloud in front of strangers was grounds for a summary execution.

"After all, she is a princess, not a woman you can simply play with for money. Besides, this is a matter that could cost you your head!"

Fully aware of the incalculable political and security risks involved, the experienced merchant tried to warn him urgently, attempting to bring the arrogant aristocrat back to reality.

"Oh, really? A coward! I knew it! You're all utterly useless when it actually matters!"

Blindid by his hubris and unbridled desires, the noble flatly refused to listen to words of prudence.

"Get out of my sight!"

Furious at the slightest hint of limitation, Gurum erupted in anger, firmly convinced in his twisted logic that, since she was just a woman, there was no whim in this world he couldn't get his hands on if he threw enough gold at it.

(As I thought, I can only rely on myself!)

Yet, even throughout the heated conversation with Vanderlu, Gurum's greedy gaze never once strayed from Princess Adeline.

(I always get what I want.)

He watched her intently, fascinated by her every movement: whether she was raising her goblet in an elegant toast with her delicate hands or walking back and forth, her legs—sheathed in those tight, slightly translucent white silk stockings with shimmering silver threads—peeking out from beneath her dress.

"And I want her."

Gurum couldn't look away, yearning with all his might to pin the proud princess down onto his bed and vent all his lust upon those legs.

"Please, I beg you to reconsider, Lord Gurum."

Seeing his master completely captivated by the elven beauty, Vanderlu ignored the order to leave and insisted once more on making him see reality.

"First of all, Lord Gurum, it will be extremely difficult for you to approach Princess Adeline by any other means. After all, princesses are usually surrounded by an escort of elite guards, and as the most powerful princess of the largest elven kingdom, Adeline rarely travels. We practically have zero chance of ever encountering her in a vulnerable setting. Furthermore... Adeline has been betrothed to her own brother for a month now..."

Right then, while ignoring Vanderlu's chatter, something snapped deep inside Gurum's psyche upon hearing that final revelation.

"What? To her brother? It seems this princess is just a whore after all! Did she really tolerate her own brother sleeping with her? I see... hahaha! So that pristine innocence of hers is just a facade?"

In that exact instant, Gurum's expression twisted into something grotesque and warped, almost as if an unknown malignant entity had suddenly possessed him.

"Though I've heard endogamy is common among elves, I never expected a princess of her caliber to be one of them!"

Without another word, brushing aside the hands of his attendants who tried to calm him, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully straight toward the exit of the ballroom.

That night, as the noble abandoned the reception, no one in the high aristocracy could foresee how Gurum's dark decisions would unleash the bloody events that, before long, would ravage the entire world of Terramyr.

(BOOOOOOOOOOM!)

Time flowed onward. Years later, the devastation of the underground market echoed like a distant tremor.

"...I did it."

Having claimed the degraded, inert body of the Great Speaker Witch, Scarlet Astrea, Silvia carried her draped over her shoulder beneath her own cloak as she effortlessly traversed the suffocating depths of the labyrinth, finally breaking through to the surface.

"Finally..."

Back in the present, within the same Western Continent that had once served as the cradle of that nightmare, Silvia emerged amidst a freezing mountainous zone, gazing out at the distant horizon.

"I've made it out."

Holding the cold frozen sphere in her hand and carrying her new trophy in tow, the clock that had remained frozen for so long... was finally about to resume its ticking.