My Demon Master Is An Adorable Snake

Chapter fifteen

As if the morning's brutal punishment wasn't enough, midday arrived with fresh horrors. Yuta was quietly performing his assigned tasks, trying to keep his head down and avoid attention, when trouble came looking for him again.

"Hey, you boy," The rude servant from yesterday, whom Yuta now knew to be Tomas, called. Tomas was the head of the human slaves, he was still a slave but considering that the demons placed him in charge of other humans, he never ceased to wield his power at any given opportunity. And now, a high ranked demon had just commanded him for a special task.

Yuta walked to him, his heart already sinking with each step

"You will go clean Sir Randolf's room,"

Yuta's body freezes, why Sir Randolf again?

His punishment this morning still burned in his head, his mouth still tasted like dust and dirty liquid. 

"Blame yourself for catching his special interest." Tomas announced with a vicious smirk. 

Special interest?

Yuta's body recoiled with horror as he interpreted what that might mean.

Just this morning, he had heard maids and slaves making fearful remarks about Sir Randolf's behavior toward them—how he had made advances and punished anyone who refused him brutally.

"Do you want a good whipping? What are you standing like a fool for!" 

Yuta jerked at Tomas's angry voice which snapped across the courtyard.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the guards already moving closer, their hands resting on their weapons. He forced his trembling legs to move, walking toward his fate like a puppet with cut strings.

-----

A few moments later, Yuta was standing on his toes, struggling to place a heavy book on a high shelf, when the chamber doors open, and Sir Randolf strode in like a predator entering its hunting ground, his presence immediately filling the room with an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe.

Yuta's hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the book. He managed to set it down and immediately bowed his head, fixing his gaze on the floor.

"Greetings, Sir," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He didn't hear any response from the demon, which made his anxiety spike. What should he do? He didn't dare raise his gaze, but the silence was becoming unbearable.

He was still in the same position when a hand suddenly enveloped his waist as Randolf whispered in his ear, his breath hot against Yuta's neck.

"Such a pretty little thing," Randolf murmured, his voice thick with desire as his hands began roaming over Yuta's body with possessive familiarity. "Those fine features, that delicate skin… No wonder you've been the talk of the castle." Randolf's hand started to slip into Yuta's tattered pants, and just as he was about to touch that area, Yuta's panic erupted like a wildfire. He twisted violently and shoved Randolf away with desperate strength, stumbling backward until he hit the bookshelf.

Randolf chuckled, in a blink of an eye, he was in front of Yuta again, his extended claw grasping the human's chin violently.

"Still pretending to be shy?" He hissed, venom in his gaze, " I know you already spread your legs for one of my kind. That's the only way a pathetic human like you would earn healing magic. You can become my special pet, then I'll let you earn favors from me…"

Yuta's skin crawled as Randolf leaned closer, he can perceive the distinct oppressive demon's smell

"That's not—I didn't, I don't want to earn favors from you!" Yuta spoke with a courage that surprised even him. 

Randolf looked shocked as well, as though no human had ever turned him down.

"I'll take my leave, sir," Yuta said desperately, trying to edge toward the door. "My work is finished."

But Randolf moved with inhuman speed, catching Yuta's arm in a grip that felt like iron bands. His claws extended slightly, just enough to pierce the skin and draw tiny beads of blood.

"Where do you think you're going, beautiful?" Randolf's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "We haven't even begun to get acquainted."

"Please, sir, let me go," Yuta begged, struggling against the impossible strength holding him captive.

"Oh, I don't think so." Randolf's eyes began to glow with demonic power, and suddenly Yuta felt his body growing heavy, his limbs becoming sluggish and unresponsive. "You see, I have a little talent for making troublesome humans more… cooperative."

The demonic influence washed over Yuta like thick honey, making his thoughts fuzzy and his resistance weaker. He tried to fight it, but his body was betraying him, becoming pliant and docile under Randolf's power.

"That's better," Randolf said with satisfaction, easily lifting Yuta's now-unresisting form and carrying him toward the bed. "Much more civilized, don't you think?"

But as Randolf laid him down and began removing his own clothes, something inside Yuta's mind screamed in rebellion. The image of Shadow flashed through his thoughts—gentle red eyes, warm scales, the feeling of being protected and cared for. That memory burned through the demonic influence like fire through fog.

"No!" Yuta gasped, his will reasserting itself with violent force. "Help! Someone help me!"

The sudden return of his resistance caught Randolf off guard. Yuta's hand shot out, striking the demon across the face with every ounce of strength he possessed. The surprise and pain broke Randolf's concentration for just a moment—but a moment was enough.

Yuta rolled off the bed and ran for the door, his body still fighting the lingering effects of the demon's power. Behind him, he heard Randolf's roar of fury.

"You little wretch! Get back here!"

Yuta burst through the door and ran down the corridor, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone. He could hear Randolf pursuing him, shouting for him to stop.

But Yuta's desperation gave him speed, and he managed to put some distance between himself and his pursuer. Unfortunately, his luck ran out when two guards appeared at the end of the corridor, blocking his escape route.

Strong hands seized him, dragging him back toward where Randolf waited, straightening his disheveled clothes and arranging his features into a mask of injured dignity.

"This lowly slave tried to steal from me," Randolf announced loudly, his voice carrying to the growing crowd of servants and demons who had been drawn by the commotion. "When I caught him in the act, he became violent and tried to flee."

"No, please believe me!" Yuta cried, struggling against the guards' grip. "I didn't steal anything! He tried to—"

"You?" Lyrian's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. The demon pushed through the crowd, his golden eyes blazing with fury when they landed on Yuta. "Again? How dare you cause trouble for your betters!"

He turned to Randolf with a look that said he would take it from there. "I will see that he is punished appropriately for his crimes."

"Someone take him to the cells immediately!" Lyrian commanded, his voice ringing with authority. "He will be among the slaves offered to our lord tonight. Perhaps Lord Elrien can teach him proper respect."

The words sent ice through Yuta's veins. Everyone knew what happened to slaves who were brought before Lord Elrien during the full moon. None ever returned.

"No, please have mercy!" Ren's voice broke through the crowd as he dropped to his knees, in front of noble Lyrian. "He will learn! Please don't send him to die!"

"One more word and I will beat you to death," Lyrian snarled, his demonic aura flaring with rage. "Take him away now!"

As the guards dragged him toward the dungeons, Yuta felt his heart breaking. He looked back at his friends, Ren and Kai, memorizing their faces one last time, even though time with them had been brief, it was the first time in his life that he truly had friends.

"Goodbye," he whispered, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "Thank you for knowing me."

-----

The cell was dark and cramped, filled with other condemned slaves who huddled together in terror. Some wept quietly, others sat in stunned silence, but all of them knew what awaited when the sun set completely.

Yuta found himself strangely calm as the hours passed. After everything he'd endured—his family's cruelty, the endless abuse, Randolf's assault—perhaps death would be a mercy. At least it would be over.

But as the guards approached and began unlocking the cell, something sparked to life inside him. He thought of Shadow, of gentle moments shared in the darkness, of the inexplicable healing that had saved him from the whip's bite. Someone had cared enough to heal him. Someone had found him worthy of mercy.

Maybe he wasn't ready to give up after all.

"It's time," the guard announced. "Bring them out."

As they were herded through the corridors like cattle to slaughter, Yuta made a silent promise to himself. He had survived this long—somehow, some way, he would survive this too. He had to believe that somewhere in this nightmare, there was still hope to be found.

The massive doors to Lord Elrien's chambers loomed before them, carved with symbols that seemed to writhe in the torchlight.

"BRING THEM IN," came a voice from within—a voice that carried the weight of absolute power and barely contained violence.

"You first," the guard said, shoving Yuta forward.

The doors opened, and Yuta stumbled into hell itself.

-----

The madness was consuming Elrien.

He paced his chambers like a caged beast, his skin burning with fever that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the curse that owned his very soul. His fangs had extended fully, sharp and aching with the need to pierce flesh and drink deep. His claws scraped furrows in the stone walls as he dragged them along the surface, trying to find some outlet for the violence that demanded release.

The full moon's call sang in his blood like a siren's song, urging him to hunt, to kill, to bathe the world in crimson until his thirst was finally quenched. But it was never quenched—not truly. The hunger only grew stronger with each feeding, each life taken in the moon's name.

"Kill everything," whispered the beast in his mind, its voice like grinding bone. "Tear them apart. Make them scream. Paint the walls with their blood."

Elrien threw back his head and roared, the sound echoing through the chamber with demonic fury.

He could smell them approaching—the slaves, the sacrifices, their fear like perfume in the air. His mouth watered at the scent, his body trembling with anticipation. Soon he would feed. Soon the burning would stop, if only for a little while.

The doors opened, and his enhanced senses immediately caught a familiar scent threading through the terror—lavender and something pure.

His eyes snapped to the figure pushed through the doorway, and the world seemed to stop.

White hair like moonlight.

"YOU?" The word tore from his throat as he stared at the small human figure on the floor before him, looking at him with beautiful, terrified eyes.