The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 755

Chapter 755: Lessons in Mate Bonding

TW: Torture

The Orcish Prince, however, had now learned better from the elves. While orcs had never been big on torture and usually honored their battles by fighting directly and ending things cleanly, there were times when a different approach was necessary.

"You will never—"

Before she could finish her goading, the prince suddenly moved.

A short spear pierced her shoulder.

It went clean through, and yet he left it lodged there.

Her eyes bulged in shock before her voice finally caught up.

"ARGGHHHHHH!"

"You! How da—"

Her second scream tore out when another short spear embedded itself into her right leg. The prince left that one on her, too. Blood splattered across the ground as she clutched at the weapons, trembling violently.

When she looked at the prince’s face, stoic yet murderous, she felt her stomach twist. Words would not save her. Not now.

Panic jolted through her, and she attempted to shift into another form.

Nothing happened.

"!!!"

"What? Can’t morph?" the prince asked calmly.

Her breathing hitched. "What did you do to me?" She coughed, then vomited blood, her entire body shaking.

"I guess you will never be able to morph again," said the prince. His eyes glowed deathly red as he reached down toward her.

She tried to recoil, but the spears impaled in her body tore at her flesh and she screamed again, writhing on the ground.

But the prince did not go for her neck.

To her horror, he grabbed the ends of the metal shafts of the spears still embedded in her flesh and, with deliberate force, bent them.

Not outward.

But inward.

Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.

"!!!"

He curved the ends toward one another until they met, forming cruel loops of metal that wrapped around her flesh like jagged bracelets, locked permanently in place. The metal tightened, pressing into skin and bone, all while she screamed in terror.

"AHHHHHHH!"

She was shaking on her knees, the pain almost making her pass out. But more than the immediate pain was the realization that the prince had no intention of killing her quickly.

And he had no intention of removing the spears.

With no options left, the princess reached for the last and most desperate method all elven royalty carried—poison in the mouth. A single bite and incantation, she could take herself out rather than be captured.

But before she could even activate it, a massive orc fist slammed into her face.

She blacked out instantly—missing the Orcish Prince’s words of praise, "My wife was right. I would always win if I never announced when I’m going to attack."

__

It would have been better if she never woke up.

Because the moment her eyes opened, even the simple act of breathing made her entire body pulse with a deep, dragging pain that refused to let her drift back into unconsciousness.

That traitor.

How?!

Both elves and orcs had left their home planets through human technology, but the difference between the two races was vast. Elves eagerly made profitable deals for advanced travel, spreading across new planets faster than their other counterparts.

Meanwhile, those brutes only accepted the barest deals. They hated cooperating. The agreements only held because their galaxy contained resources humans valued enough to tolerate them. So even if they made too few deals, they still got something out of it. But surely that could never amount to the progress made by the elves.

And yet here they were.

How the hell!

The elven king had chosen this hiding place precisely because the orcs should never have been able to reach it.

Then her eyes widened as another question hit her.

Wait.

How did they even know where to look?

Did orcs have another method of tracking their mates?

Her thoughts raced, tumbling over one another. She searched for an answer, but the truth was far more outrageous than even she expected.

It was all because of Prince Silarion’s preparations and that insane creation called a "Life Bond."

He had not exactly invented it himself, but he had improved and realized the ancient binding method used by their ancestors. As a hopeless romantic, he reworked it not to simply chain couples together but to protect honest and loving relationships.

And so imagine everyone’s surprise when the Elven King, busy arranging another wedding for his son, failed in the most spectacular way.

The exasperated prince, whose body had been practically bleached and medicated so frequently that he fainted daily, had tried to explain to his father that it would be useless.

But the Elven King, convinced that he had successfully severed the mating bond between his son and that orc, pushed forward stubbornly.

Only to find himself, his guests, and the entire ceremony right in the middle of an orcish siege.