Episode 1. Part 1 The beginning of the catastrophe


Emperor of the Great Empire of Zadat. Askaar did not know that he had a daughter.


Not until she was seventeen.


He might have never known if Lourane Antkal, Countess of Antkal, with whom he had once mingled, had not dabbled in black magic.


But for some reason, she did, and when the imperial court discovered it, they sent knights to raid the mansion unannounced, and the presence of the Emperor’s blood, Ashria, was brought out into the world.


The knights were horrified to find her imprisoned in the basement of Count Antcal’s mansion.




Dark red hair and eyes that proved he was a descendant of Dairos, the former dragon of fire.


It was proof that he was a m*mber of the House of Zadat.


To imprison a m*mber of the imperial family in a cellar like this was enough to alarm anyone.


Lourane, who had dabbled in black magic, was summarily disposed of, while Ashria, who had been locked in the cellar, was exonerated because there was no evidence that she had used black magic.


Once out of the dungeon, Ashria was quickly enrolled as an empress and given a new name: Ashria di Caesar Ru Zadat.


She was surprisingly unperturbed by the sudden arrival of the knights.


It’s almost as if she knew this day would come.


Whatever the case, Ashria’s arrival caused a stir in the Empire.


The story of the abused princess and the knights who found her and rescued her.


The stories were glorified and spread far and wide, and the people pitied and envied Ashria at the same time. After all, she was now a princess.


On the surface, it was a plausible story. Like a fairy tale.


That is, on the surface.


* * *


“This is the room the Empress will be using from now on.”


Ashria blinked absentmindedly at the maid as she politely explained the room to me.


Despite the change of scenery from a dark, dank basement to a glittering imperial palace, Ashria seemed unperturbed.


Any other child her age would have been dazed and confused by the dazzling splendor of the room.


There was something oddly disconcerting about the way she looked, even a little dazed.


“Then make yourself at home.”


The maid, who had been explaining things to her for a while, backed away carefully.


The Emperor’s only daughter, and potentially the next Emperor.


That was Ashria’s position now.


It was a position that could be reversed if the Emperor chose to have an Empress at any time, of course, but the Emperor had never allowed himself to be near any woman except for brief one-night stands, and the people had given up hope of ever seeing one in their midst.


Dragon-blooded royalty live long lives and never grow old.


Such was the case with the Emperor, Askaar, and his daughter, Ashria.


At only thirty-nine years old, he was a sun b*by by imperial standards; their average lifespan was in the three-hundreds.


Left alone in the room, Ashria blinked lazily, her eyes scanning the gilded furniture.


The room was so luxurious that a single piece of furniture could have been sold to buy a small house in the capital.


“I’m tired.


But Ashria was unmoved by such things.


She staggered to her bed, forcing her blurry vision to focus.


Her petite body collapsed helplessly onto the fluffy comforter. After a moment’s struggle, the bed enveloped her in its cozy embrace.


She haven’t done anything, but Ashria’s breathing is slightly ragged.


She gasped for air and then let out a grunt as if she was overwhelmed. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead.


For Ashria, at least, the moment was passing very slowly. A minute seemed like an hour. Slowly and painfully, she squeezed her lungs.


How much more of this oppressive time would pass?




It’s not until her complexion turns pale that she manages to choke out a breath.


Her eyes are closed in pain, are blue, and tremble slightly. The sound of her agony echoes quietly in the bright sunlit room.


The normal lifespan of an imperial is 300 years.


Ashria’s lifespan should be the same, as she is clearly royalty…


Ashria thinks, clutching hard at the pure white quilt.


‘I have about 320 days… left.


Three hundred and twenty days. That’s how much time Ashria had left.


She knew very well how many days she had left, and she knew very clearly who had made such a mess of her life.


“Still… I’m glad she’s dead.


His slender shoulders sagged further.


‘At least I won’t be a guinea pig for their experiments…


Ashria cautiously looked at the inside of my wrist. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary mole, but it was a remnant of the black magic that was eating away at her life.


A vile remnant of her mother, Lurane, now executed.


One would have thought that with the execution of Lurane, the caster, this magic would have disappeared as well….


‘So it won’t go away.


Ashria smiles bitterly.


The black magic was carved into her heart. It controls her life force.


Was she disappointed that it didn’t disappear?


No, not at all. I don’t need to disappear.


I knew in my gut that my body, tattered from years as a test subject, wouldn’t last long even without black magic.


I didn’t want to live long in the first place.


I hadn’t had any fun since I was born. Where does it stop? I had never been happy, I had never giggled, I had never laughed out loud.


If she had to live like this for three hundred years, that would be torture in itself.


Ashria really thought so.


As she stared at the ornate chandelier on the ceiling, her curiosity about her father, who would live for 300 years surrounded by such splendor, was piqued.


“What kind of man will he be?


Coincidence or fate. It was natural to be curious about the man who had pulled her out of that hell.


Whatever it was, it didn’t make her think negatively about him. At least not at this moment, as she curled up on the fluffy bed he’d offered me.


As she looks at the room that doesn’t suit her, She realizes that her life may be short, but at least she can sleep easy on the last leg of her journey.


“The Emperor will probably call the Empress to the Realm tomorrow, so get some rest today.”


Suddenly, she remembered what one of the maids had said earlier, which was the best of all possible worlds. She didn’t have to do anything today.


Ashria closed her eyes, unable to fight the sleepiness that was creeping in. The warmth of the sunlit room, no longer the dank cellar, enveloped her body.


She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d basked in the sun.


It made her feel relieved to know that she would no longer be thrown around in horrible pain as a black magic test subject.


She never wanted to be happy. She doesn’t even want to be happy.


She just felt like she had found a place to rest her eyes.


So she was happy.


At least until she faced the Emperor.


* * *


The Emperor, Askaar, was a remarkable man.


He had only been emperor for 20 years, but he had already accomplished more than his predecessors had, so it was hard not to say that he was outstanding.


However, beneath his accomplishments, there was also a lot of blood spilled.


More precisely, most of his accomplishments were made with the blood of others.


Askaar had no qualms about his actions, nor did he feel guilty for those who fell victim to them.


It was an imperial trait.


Her empathy is lacking, and her emotions are unstable.


Maybe it’s the imperial blood in her veins that keeps her from batting an eyelid, even though she knows she’s about to die.


“Today, or the day she was assigned a palace.”


A low, bass voice echoed through the throne room. It was Askaar who spoke.


For some time now, Ashria had been under scrutiny by the palace wizards to prove her innocence of practicing black magic.


But it was a mere formality, as the royal family, descended from dragons, had no magical powers to begin with.


“Yes, sir. I understand you were inducted this morning.”


“I see.”


Askaar replied grimly, flipping through the papers in his hands.


The appearance of a daughter he hadn’t even known existed.


It was a bit of a thrill, even for the usual dour Asgard.


The knights who had brought her to him from the field had said she was as good as his own. What would she look like?


His curiosity was piqued.


“I’ll go visit the Empress for a while.”


And so it was. Before he could even formally call on the Empress, he found himself in her bedroom.


It started as a small curiosity.


And it was a curiosity that turned out to be disastrous.


For Askaard, for Ashria.


* * *


Deep in her sleep, Ashria jerked upright, startled by the unexpected knock on her door, her body still buried in her bed.




‘I don’t expect anyone here.


Her formal meeting with the Emperor was tomorrow, and she had just finished dinner.


She shook her head, not yet acclimatized to the unfamiliar surroundings.


But the other person didn’t seem to care much about her wishes, barging in without permission.


“Who are you….”


Before she can ask who it is, a frighteningly unwelcome visitor appears.


A man with jet-black hair, at least a head taller than her, perhaps two.


As soon as she sees him, she can’t help but gasp and s*ck in her breath.


She didn’t need anyone to tell her, she knew instinctively.


He would be my father.


He had to be the Emperor, Askaar.


He must have realized it the moment he laid eyes on me. that I was his daughter.


His piercing eyes were fixed squarely on her.


It was a mere glance, but the intensity of the gaze was so overwhelming that Ashria felt as if she were being strangled, unable to speak, and froze in place on the bed.


A heavy silence fell over the room, and it was not Ashria who broke it, but Askaar.


“This is it, my blood.”


His voice was bland. But the slightest hint of curiosity in it.


“You look familiar.”


It wasn’t hard to see what he meant by resemblance.


Askaar arched an eyebrow and swung his long legs around to approach Ashria with a brisk walk.


It was unseemly to be lying on the bed like a fool in the presence of the Emperor, but Ashria, ignorant of such things, could only stare in mesmerized fascination at the man who looked so much like her.


His broad shoulders look like they’d be a good place to lean on if he were to offer her a hug, and his rock-hard chest pecs look quite trustworthy.


Whatever his actual personality, that was Ashria’s first impression of him.


Even more than his chiseled, handsome face, it was his body that made her want to lean on him.


Stepping to stand directly in front of her, Askaar pauses for a moment, then looks down at Ashria nonchalantly.


Black hair down to her waist, black eyes with a hint of wariness. White wrists that look like they could break. Her collarbones are so skinny they peek out through her slip.


Askaar studied her carefully. She flinched at his gaze as if it were a burden to bear.


How much longer would the silence last?




Blinking between words, Ashria cautiously uttered the title of father.


The words were so unexpected that Askaar paused for a moment. Then he let out a short chuckle.


He hadn’t expected to hear me call him dad, and he was a little taken aback. He didn’t show it, of course.


After all, who would dare call a half-man, half-dragon with the world at his feet “Dad”?


Most humans couldn’t even look him in the eye, let alone call him that.


And even if he was unlearned, it was still a little surprising to see him open his eyes in front of me.


Those who first encountered an Askaar would instinctively recognize who was the predator and who was the prey.


It usually means they’re busy banging their heads together.


But despite her wariness, Ashria couldn’t hide her curiosity about him.


It was dry and quiet for a first meeting between a father and daughter who hadn’t known each other for 17 years.




The corners of Askaar’s mouth curled up at the title.


“You are the first person to call me that.”




Ashria blushed in embarrassment. She paused for a moment, then called him again.


“So can I call you Lung…?”




“…Your Majesty?”


His damp lips curled into a pale pink smile. His thin face was white and transparent even without makeup.


She was petite, and the slip she wore flapped open to reveal her collarbones.


At the sight, Askaar felt a stiffening in his stomach.


I didn’t feel love, or love at first sight.


It was just l*st. For the first time.


As for Askaar, he was surprised at himself, since he had never been the first to get hard at the sight of someone.


I wonder if she takes after me.


The sight of her own blood fluttering through his eyelashes as she stared up at him made him feel strangely possessive.


“I… thank you, Your Majesty, for saving my life….”


Ashria chirped to herself as she looked at the unresponsive Askaar.


She didn’t want to be hard on her father, who had helped her through her own lack of will to live, and who she hadn’t seen in seventeen years.


He listened to her words in silence, then motioned to the servants behind him to retire.


The great door closed behind them, leaving Askaar and Ashria alone in the room.


The white silk slip hinted at the immaculate flesh beneath, and whether she realized it or not, Ashria was busy thanking Askaar for his generosity.


After opening her mouth for a long time, she finished by saying that she was going to stay out of trouble and live like a mouse while she was in the palace.


Askaar laughed softly at her words.


“You know my subject well.”




“Yes. My knights saved you, and you have done me a great favor.”


He leaned down and pressed himself against Ashria as naturally as water flows. Then the scent of a woman’s flesh, sweet and young and just coming of age, wafted to his nostrils.


It was quite different from the artificial scent.


Looking down at the swollen, aching bump beneath him, Askaar reached out. A large hand cupped Ashria’s cheek, unceremoniously.


There was something odd about the gesture, but Ashria couldn’t quite put her finger on it and just stared like an idiot.


Was it simply a gesture of father-daughter affection? She pondered for a moment.


Askaar smiled at her, his eyes strangely frosty.


“So you’ll have to spread your legs for me.”




Ashria’s eyes widened in disbelief at the next words.


Spread her legs? For him? For me? Why?


Her mind swirled with thoughts that didn’t make sense. But she didn’t have long to dwell on them.


The hand that had been caressing her cheek gripped the back of her head hard, and before she could blink, her lips were pressed together.




Ashria’s eyes widened at the same time.


There was no time to be surprised by a mere kiss. The slip was pulled up far enough that hot flesh pressed against her teeth.


His hands slid down her smooth thighs, invading intimate places that had never been touched before.




Panicked, Ashria flailed and tried to push him away, but the mere gesture didn’t work.


The broad shoulders that seemed so comfortable to lean on became a predator that pounced on his young daughter and pressed down on her body, and the chest that she thought was so generous for a moment became a trap that held her in place, preventing the helpless herbivore from escaping.


What kind of a father is he, she thought, but at least out of all the dozens and hundreds of times he’d done this, this was not one of them.


“Why, why are you…!”


Ashria asked, her jaw-dropping. Her heart was racing.


I never thought my first kiss would be with Abby.


“I was lusting.”




“For no particular reason.”


He gripped my trembling thighs and clawed at the tattered fabric covering her p*ssy. Then, between her slender legs, a mound of hairless, immaculate flesh greeted him.


“I just want to stick my c*ck in your h*le.”


Born at the top of the food chain, he’s never had anything I didn’t want.


He’s never had to be stopped by someone else, never had to make a concession for someone else, never had to put himself in someone else’s shoes or do something called consideration.


It’s just the way it is.


I don’t care if she’s my blood or not, I’ve seen her, and she’s in front of me.


If I want to f*ck her, I’m going to do it, no matter what her wishes are.


Ashria shook her head in disbelief and tried to cover her p*ussy.


Seeing the ugliness of it, Askaar says nonchalantly.


“You’d better keep your hands to yourself unless you want to spread your c*nt.”


His voice was flat, his words casual.


“My patience isn’t exactly high enough to cater to a bunch of whiny bitches like you.”


For a moment, Ashria’s mind went blank.


Words like c*nt and wh*re were not words that would ever come between him and me.


But there was no time to be surprised by the suddenness of the situation.


Tilting his head to look down at her for a moment, Askaar ripped the slip off in one swift motion and clutched at her shapely thighs.




She groaned at the force of it all and then heard the sound of his pants being unbuckled, and before long, something hard was pressed against a place that had never been touched before.


It didn’t take me long to realize it was my father’s p*nis.


There was no time to appreciate what a man’s p*nis looked like, only to be crushed against him, eyes rolling.


“Your Majesty…?”


Even the most uneducated Ashria knew that this was r*pe.


She struggled to push him away. But Askaar’s body was heavy and hard. He wouldn’t budge with the slightest gesture.




Askaar, who was nonchalantly spreading the flesh between his chubby right legs, smirked.


“You look pretty cute.”


It was a clumsy gesture, devoid of consideration.


A puffy patch of flesh twitched between her immaculate l*bia, and Askaar nonchalantly squeezed it.




Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, Ashria flinched, arching her back. Then amusement flickered in his eyes.


But it was the kind of pl*asure that comes from mocking the weak.


Like a child pinching the wings of a dragonfly. Just as you can always pour hot water on their house when you get tired of watching ants.


It was just like that. To Askaar, Ashria was.


A p*nis, much larger than a normal human’s, poked its head out through the gaping front of his pants. There was a fair amount of whitish fl*id pooling at the tip.


The gl*ns alone were as big as my p*ssy, and I wondered if it would ever be penetrated. Not only was it huge, but it was also monstrous, with many ugly bumps.


No, with his half-dragon blood, he was practically a monster to humans.


Askaar grasped his c*ck root and aligned the tip with the seemingly dry h*le. “Aligned” is a funny word. It’s hard to call it a h*le when it’s not even a h*le in the first place.


He didn’t like the idea of a squirming woman, so he grabbed her skinny ankles and placed them on my shoulders. Then he began to position himself in earnest.


With a harsh thrust of her immaculate a$s, Askaar pushed her tightly closed v*g*na open. The black p*nis plunged its head into the pale pink h*le, exerting terrible pressure.


It was the beginning of the violence.




Ashria screamed, her eyes widening as the pain tore through her flesh. She wanted to throw herself out of the way and run, but he had her legs, and she couldn’t get away.


Crawling through the tiny slit, which I’m not even sure I’d call a h*le, Askaar remained indifferent as he watched her wince in pain.


His p*nis was something that even most Cortijans found difficult to receive, so why not Ashria, who had never had s*x before?


The act was made all the more daunting by the fact that she was so much smaller than her peers due to poor nutrition.


The narrow lining of her v*g*na, almost as narrow as her body, tightened and loosened urgently as the p*nis pushed against it. Her dry, shallow insides bravely swallowed his hard c*ck in agony.




I feel sorry for her as she spasms, unable to breathe, but despite being one of my own, Askaar doesn’t seem to care.


Unlike Ashria, who is frantically wandering around in pain, Askaar is quite content.


The tiny hole, which had never been f*cked before, was more than adequate to satisfy him. It was a little stiff, but that was nothing a couple of rubs of her pea-sized cl*t couldn’t fix.


Instead of juices, red blood flowed from the hole where he forced his c*ck into her. It was a sight that made my brow crinkle, but Askaar didn’t stop, and as if the sight of the drops of blood running down the white flesh made her even more ar*used, she plunged her half-empty c*ck into the root, once and for all.




Ashria shrieked in surprise, and when he realized what she was doing, he clasped her hands together and bound them with his own, then slowly pulled his c*ck out by the root. The flesh twitched and moved together as the c*ck was pulled out with too much stimulation.


Raised bumps rubbed against the narrow interior walls, and every time they did, Ashria’s eyes widened in pain.


If there was a silver lining to her misery, it was that it was less painful than the experiments her dead mother had performed on her. But less painful, not painful.


Her body, weakened by years as a guinea pig, found it difficult to withstand the coercive relationship, and the p*nis, pierced mercilessly from below, began to move back and forth with no regard for Ashria’s condition, only for its own satisfaction.


“Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm….”


Ashria whimpered through a stifled cry. She winced in pain as the stubby c*ck slid in and out of her dry flesh.


But her slender waist, which a man could have gripped with one hand, was no match for the ruthless aggressor who was violating her. Whenever Askaar rock-hard upper body would crush mine, Ashria would end up pinned beneath him, helpless to do anything.


“Ugh… ah, it hurts, it hurts… hmm, lungs, Your Majesty….”


She spoke weakly, hoping that Askaar’s panting would slow down. Unfortunately, he didn’t respond to her pain-soaked voice with any sympathy, but instead became even more unruly.


Puck, puck, puck, the sound of Askaar moving grew louder. Flesh clashed against the flesh, and the slender woman slipped helplessly from his arms.


“Suck, hmmm… ah!”


Still uncomfortable with the dryness of her insides after so many hours of c*ck thrusting, Askaar slid his hand haphazardly between her twitching l*bia. He rubbed it vigorously against the bulge of flesh in the center, rubbing it this way and that.


“Hmph, yeah, mmm… ahhhhhh…!”


Then a subtle moan escaped Ashria’s lips.


The flesh of her p*ssy, which should have been close together, was gaping open to receive the thick, lumpy beast. A ghastly-looking p*nis slid in and out of a stretched hole between her immaculate l*bia.


The best of all possible worlds, however, was that Askaar’s crushing and pinching of her erect cl*toris soon made her hole gurgle with each thrust of his c*ck.


This eased the pain that seemed to tear her limbs apart.


Askaar’s breath, seemingly satisfied with this act, settled lazily in the room.


“With my special permission.”


Feeling the dampness tighten around his c*ck-pole, Askaar said gravely.


“Call me daddy.”




“East and west, south and north. All the continents combined, you’re the only one who would dare call me that.”


It was almost as if he wanted her to be grateful. But Ashria was in no mood for such things.


“I have given you special permission to call me.”


When she didn’t respond, he clicked his tongue in a small, cruel way. She gasped, her limbs flailing like a harpooned fish.


“Come on, you can call me Dad. Huh?”




A large hand slammed down on her immaculate p*ssy with an urgent, iron grip. Then a lively sting shot through her tiny cl*t and reverberated throughout her body.


“Ahhhhhh, Daddy….”


“Yes, you can call me that.”


Ashria clutched at the sheets until her knuckles were white, trying to stifle the pain. The corner of Askaar’s mouth twitched into a pleasant smile.


Slowly, the withdrawn p*nis sank deep inside her again, skimming the lining. Still unable to adjust to the horrific size of the c*ck, Ashria sobbed as her back arched.


Large hands clutched at her tiny pelvis, pinning her down and forcing her to squirm.


The hideous c*ck, as ugly as it looked, was busy unleashing its lust into my daughter’s hole.


The thick sh*ft plunged in and out, pounding the flimsy inner walls without ej*culation.


The sound of sweaty flesh and a slightly ragged man’s breath.


It was all foreign to Ashria.


With each fl*id movement of her green, toned abs came a pain that felt like her body was being ripped apart.




The only thing that stung was her bottom, but her whole body felt like it was being torn apart.


With no more energy to resist, Ashria gave up her feeble squirming.


The heavy c*ck slammed into her below her navel, thrusting in and out of her v*g*na with reckless abandon, gripping her hips roughly as it pounded into her narrowed insides.


Ashria can only spit out a groaning cry.


Even that was physiological.


Empty eyes stared at the chandelier over Askaar’s shoulder. But it wasn’t the chandelier, and it wasn’t Askaar.


“I’d rather… die quickly.


Askaar’s c*ck pushed into her by the roots, the shape of it standing out grotesquely against her flat stomach. Askaar stroked his white, flat stomach, prodding at the stretching h*le to see if he liked the look of it.


Suddenly, she wondered.


What had she done in the past to deserve this muck of a life?


Her father, who had treated her like a wh*re under his ragged breath, and her mother, who had used her as a test subject for her black magic, claimed that since I gave birth to her, I could do as I pleased.


Ashria grunted as the pain tore through her body like a sheet of paper, and then she felt her vision grow blurry.


If only she could keep her eyes open forever like this…


* * *


Her heavy eyelids fluttered open. Ashria curled into a ball, wincing at the scream her entire body emitted.




Sick. Her body had been ravaged by a man called Askaar.


Every inch of her immaculate flesh was covered in gnashing marks where she had bitten down without care, and her p*ssy ached as if it had been torn open.


But the best part of my misery was that when she opened her eyes, Askaar wasn’t there.


I was alone in a large bed.




Ashria groaned in horror, wondering if s*x was supposed to hurt that much.


Askaar’s eyes were cruel enough to destroy any small hope she had that he might be a good man.


Well, yeah. What did I expect from my crappy life in the first place?


Ashria gripped the quilt so hard her knuckles were white. Her already frail body felt heavier and stiffer than usual as if it had been further ruined by a violent affair.


How helplessly she lay there.




A knock sounded on the door and an imperial maid entered. The tray she carried was filled with warm face wash and a hearty breakfast.


“I wonder if the maids know.


That the Emperor had r*ped her.


Ashria sneaked a look at the handmaiden’s face. But the maid showed no emotion. Only a doll-like smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she went about her business.


Ashria washed her face with warm water and munched on a rather large breakfast.


“His Majesty has asked me to join you for lunch.”


Her duties complete, the maid smirked and retreated. The tall, massive doors slammed shut.


Ashria was alone in the vast room. Ashria stared, dumbfounded, at the spot where the maid had disappeared.


I don’t know why. Obviously, the conditions were much better than when I was locked in the basement, but I wasn’t in a pleasant mood.


It’s ridiculous to think that Hagiya would be amused by her father’s ransacked bed.


“…This s*cks.”


Ashria’s small voice echoed in the empty room.


If I had more time on my hands, this situation might have felt more dire than it did.


I could have been captured by my deified and worshipped father and forced to be his puppet for the rest of my life in a vast and opulent palace, with no one to help me.


But I had less than a year to live anyway.


I’m not really traumatized or heartbroken.


I just feel a little physically tired.


As sudden and painful as Askaar’s behavior was yesterday, it was also something I wanted to experience once before I died.


Not that I wanted a relationship this violent, of course.


After all, with a body like this and a status like this, it’s hard to have a normal, affectionate first time in a relationship, so the more I thought about it, the more my thoughts turned strangely positive.


I don’t mean to defend Askaar by any means.


At least the horrible act with her father had been replaced by something she could experience at least once before she died.


Ashria moaned softly from her sore p*ssy, but then lazily tossed and turned, enjoying the feel of the fluffy futon against the hard basement floor.


Perhaps if she had been born and raised in a normal family, she might have been scared to death of this situation, but alas, Ashria had no such thoughts.


She just wanted a bed that would hold her in comfort right now, and she sank into the crisp futon.

error: Content is protected !!