The Villainous Son Loves His Mother - Chapter 84

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We can’t win.
That despair had taken root in Elizabeth’s heart.

“W-we… if we hand over… the Night’s Dew…”

Elizabeth barely managed to force out the words.
Her trembling voice carried the unmistakable sound of a plea for mercy.
The faint hope of survival was the only light sustaining her in this moment.

In truth, Elizabeth had no idea what the Night’s Dew was. She had never even heard of it.
But what would happen if she admitted her ignorance here?
The mere thought sent a chill through her veins, as if her bl00d were freezing in her veins.
Elizabeth cast a desperate glance at Alphonse, who was kneeling beside her, as if begging for help.

Alphonse, his face ashen, was also staring up at Hein.
Noticing his mistress’s gaze, he shook his head slightly, his expression steeped in despair.
He, too, knew nothing of the Night’s Dew.
Alphonse steeled himself and, with a solemn expression, asked Hein,

“…Forgive my boldness, but what exactly is this Night’s Dew? We are unfamiliar with it…”

Hein clicked his tongue.
The pressure in the room intensified palpably.
A suffocating tension filled the throne room.
Elizabeth was thinking more intently than she ever had in her life, desperately searching for a way out of this predicament.

What was the Night’s Dew?
A gem? A secret elixir? Or some kind of artifact?

No matter how hard she racked her brain, no answer came.
Cold sweat trickled down her back.
Finally, Hein let out a small sigh.

“…It seems you truly don’t know. Very well.”

With that, Hein turned his back on them, as if losing interest, and strode toward the exit.
As Elizabeth watched Hein’s retreating back, she felt all the strength drain from her body.
Had she been spared?
Had he overlooked her?
Relief washed over her, and she desperately fought to keep from collapsing.
But then—

“Wait!”

A sharp voice echoed through the throne room.
The speaker was the woman who had been trembling naked in the corner just moments before.
Hein froze in his tracks.
He slowly turned, his face utterly devoid of emotion.
The woman—Ayla—pressed her hands against the floor, her face contorted with desperation as she looked up at Hein.

“I… I know… how to make… Night’s Dew…!”

Hein’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The method? Very well, tell me.”

Ayla bit her lip, then pleaded,

“My companions…! If you can help me…!”

The moment those words left her lips, Elizabeth’s expression transformed.
Elizabeth’s beautiful face twisted with fury, her expression shifting from relief to rage in an instant.

“You…?! In this situation, what are you—?!”

She raised her sharp claws toward Ayla, ready to tear her apart before she could utter another word.
I’ll shred her to pieces before she can say anything more.
The moment she thought this, Hein cast a subtle glance at Feri, who stood beside him.
In a flash, Feri vanished, her hand gently touching Elizabeth’s arm just as she was about to strike.

“Kyaaaaaaaah!”

A piercing scream escaped Elizabeth’s lips.
With an expression of disbelief, she stared down at her arm.
From the spot where Feri had touched her, the skin began to rapidly decay, as if afflicted by a dark disease.

“Lady Elizabeth! Y-you bastard!”

Alphonse roared, drawing his sword to strike at Feri. But before he could move, something pierced his left eye—a slender dagger.
Alphonse clutched his face with both hands, collapsing to the floor.
Hein glanced at Ayla.

“I saved you. That was the advance payment. But I don’t care about your companions.”

Ayla bit her lip hard and lowered her head.
Rescuing her companions is non-negotiable for this boy.

(Even so, for now…)

There might be a chance to save them if she stays alive.
Aila thought to herself.
Hein asked calmly,

“So, how is it made?”

Aila answered in a trembling voice,

“…When a high-ranking Undead… harbors a deep, heartfelt yearning for life… a ‘Crystal of Longing’ drips from their Soul Core—that is said to be Night’s Dew.”

Hein frowned slightly.

“What does that mean? No, don’t explain—hmm… A yearning for life, huh? So, it’s like that, then.”

As he said this, Hein murmured, “This one,” and looked at Elizabeth with eyes that seemed to observe her like an experimental animal.

“Should I just torment her, then?”

Ayla nodded slightly at Hein’s words.
Terror twisted Elizabeth’s face.
There was nowhere left to run.
Hein turned his gaze to Feri.

“Feri.”

Responding to Hein’s brief summons, Feri approached Elizabeth silently.
She touched her remaining arm, then her legs, one after another.

“Hngh… Ah, ahhh…!”

Elizabeth was terrified.
Because there was no pain.
Despite the complete absence of pain—
She was melting.
Sluggishly… her arms, her legs.

No pain.

This only amplified Elizabeth’s terror endlessly.
A sensation that was neither hot nor cold crawled up from the extremities of her limbs.
An indescribable transformation, neither decay nor necrosis.
The absolute sense of loss as her own body ceased to be hers.
And this inexplicable erosion, accompanied by a strange numbness and faint throbbing, began to stimulate the deepest recesses of her consciousness.
The slow, unmistakable dampness between Elizabeth’s legs was undeniable proof that her sexual arousal had been stimulated.
As if sensing Elizabeth’s inner turmoil,

Feri spoke softly.

“Aren’t you afraid? This pleasure can be transformed into unbearable agony with just a thought from me.”

Her voice was as clear as the chime of a bell, but her words were the very whisper of the devil.

“Some drugs can produce similar effects. It’s surprisingly difficult to endure. You might even think it would be better to simply be tortured from the start—that’s how unbearable it can become.”

Feri continued, as if reminiscing about a past experience.

“I’ve walked this path myself, so I understand your feelings perfectly.”

Her fingers slowly moved toward Elizabeth’s chest.
As Feri gently caressed Elizabeth’s br3asts and n1pples, an involuntary moan escaped her lips.

But the reality was gruesome.

Elizabeth’s once smooth, pale skin was now mottled with discoloration, turning a ghastly dark purple in places.
Even worse, Feri’s fingertips began to sink into her flesh.
They sank effortlessly, as if pressing into soft mud.
Feri’s fingers – and even her wrist – buried themselves into Elisabeth’s flesh, rotting and melting her skin, flesh, and bones.

“I’m so grateful you’re here,”

“My power isn’t very effective against inorganic materials. Finally, I can do my ‘work’ properly.”

Feri seemed almost entranced.

“As a token of my gratitude, I’ll destroy you slowly, meticulously, piece by piece.”