Even If I’m Reborn as a Cute Dragon Girl, I Will Still Make a Harem

Book 5: Chapter 175: Dream (6)

I should be dead? Heh. If I deserve to die, then what does Estelle deserve?

Raymond hung his head, chuckling bitterly to himself. Estelle used to be the sole object of his desires. He sacrificed everything to please her and even committed murder for her. Yet, in the end, he found himself in this tragic predicament.

How ridiculous. Lamentable, even. But… is this my fault? No. How can a man who wholeheartedly sacrifices everything for a woman be wrong? Indeed, the fault does not lie with me. It lies with Estelle. That b̲i̲t̲c̲h̲… She turned me into a pitiful dog, scorned by all.

Raymond ground his teeth together with resentment, yet he was powerless. He was just a condemned man awaiting his fate. What could he do against that lofty princess?

“The time has come. Execute him!”

The execution overseer glanced at the sky and threw his token out as he issued the command.

A servant boy in black attire jogged forward, gripping Raymond’s chin and forcing a bitter medicinal concoction down his throat.

The liquid coursed through him, infusing his limbs and bones with searing heat, sustaining his life and staving off death by severe blood loss until the punishment’s conclusion.

Following the administration of the medicinal concoction, the servant boy gagged Raymond’s mouth with a steel rod, preventing him from ending his own life by biting his tongue.

Raymond recognized him as the prison master of the Holy Dragon Empire’s Heavenly Prison, and also the empire’s pre-eminent executioner, striking fear into the hearts of countless criminals.

“My apologies, Mr. Raymond.” The Prison Master offered a smile and an insincere apology.

“To be honest, this is my first time executing a saint-level expert, so I might be a bit jittery. I hope you can forgive any shortcomings on my part.”

The prison master produced a knife with a blade as thin as a cicada’s wing, while the servant boy held a tray aloft.

“Let’s begin.”

With a low shout, the Prison Master’s blade darted across Raymond’s chest like a shadow.

Agonizing pain surged through Raymond, causing him to break out in a cold sweat.

The Prison Master proudly displayed a thin slice of flesh before Raymond’s eyes. It was almost translucent in the light.

“Look at this. It seems like my skills haven’t gone rusty yet.”

Damn, what a psycho!

Raymond felt the urge to unleash a torrent of curses, but he lacked even the privilege of speech. He could only endure silently as the madman inflicted cut after cut upon him.

Each incision brought excruciating pain, pushing Raymond’s consciousness to the brink of collapse.

Meanwhile, the potent tonic coursing through his veins, crafted from rare herbs, cruelly kept him alert and alive, denying him even the solace of unconsciousness.

Such was the horror of the execution known as death by a thousand cuts—where the prisoner was not allowed to die until the final cut had been made on his skin.

Rain gradually fell.

The prison master gazed at the sky after neatly placing the 952nd slice of flesh on the tray.

He wiped the blood from his hands and declared, “That’s enough for today. We’ll resume tomorrow.”

The execution overseer had long departed due to the rain and the gore. The spectators had dispersed as well. Eventually, even the prison master departed under the umbrella held up by the servant boy.

Raymond was left alone in the execution ground.

At last, he could catch his breath. He hung his head low. Despite enduring over nine hundred cuts, he could not get used to the searing pain.

“Painful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached him.

Raymond strained to lift his gaze and saw Estelle, accompanied by a manservant holding an umbrella over her.

“Ugh…” Raymond tried to speak or unleash his fury upon the woman before him, but all that escaped him was a feeble whimper.

“I’m sorry. I can’t understand non-verbal communication,” Estelle said, tenderly stroking Raymond’s bloodstained face.

“Look at you, my dear Raymond. How pitiful you are. You didn’t have to endure such agony, but your stubbornness is what led you here. Sometimes, feigning ignorance is the wisest course, much like your glib-tongued father.”

“Ughhh…”

“I told you, I can’t understand you.”

Estelle rose to her feet and then held the hand of the manservant behind her. With a smile she said, “I almost forgot. I came here specifically to inform you that I’ll be marrying Saga in a month’s time.”

“Ughhhh…”

“Saga is so much more gentle and considerate than you,” Estelle said, her cheeks flushing crimson. “But on that note, I must thank you. The pain you’ve caused me is what made Father consent to the marriage between Saga and me, despite our disparate status.”

“Ughhhh…”

Raymond attempted to lunge at Estelle with a newfound surge of energy. His eyes were ablaze with hatred and a desire to devour the woman he once loved. Yet he was so weak that he couldn’t even break free from his restraint.

“I’ve said what I wanted to say. Goodbye, Raymond. Enjoy my last gift for you.”

With a wave, Estelle turned around and departed without even looking back.

The rain began pouring, obscuring Estelle’s retreating figure. Raymond’s hatred deepened as he watched her fade into the downpour.

And so, his execution resumed the next day. After enduring a total of three thousand and six hundred cuts, Raymond finally breathed his last.

Yet even in death, his eyes remained open, brimming with resentment.

◆◇◆◇◆

As snow swirled in the bitter cold wind, Raymond stirred within an igloo. A feeble bonfire fought against the biting cold, offering scant warmth against the relentless onslaught of winter.

“Ugh…”

Raymond groaned, his hand clutching his pounding head as he slowly regained consciousness.

“Where am I…?”

His thoughts were muddled. As soon as he regained a bit of clarity, he quickly groped around his body and was relieved to find himself intact.

Then what had happened before… Was it a dream? No, it was too vivid to be a dream. Then why…

While Raymond was lost in his thoughts, a voice he knew all too well rang out once more.

“You’re awake.”

Snapping his head around, Raymond caught sight of a figure much younger than he remembered, yet still as familiar as if engraved in his bones.

Es…telle!

“Now that you’re awake, answer my question: Why are you here? Did my mother send you here to assassinate Luna?” Princess Estelle demanded.

“But why would you, a middle stage of the Saint Realm, collapse in the snow? Is there an adversary in this world beyond your ability to confront?”

Observing Raymond’s bewildered silence, Estelle frowned with disdain. “Hey, I’m speaking to you. Show some reaction!”

“Reaction?”

Raymond rose slowly, his towering form casting a long shadow in the firelight.

“Go f̲u̲c̲k̲ yourself. How about that for a reaction?” he snarled.

“What?” Estelle was stunned for a moment, clearly taken aback by Raymond’s sudden defiance after years of simping for her. Her surprise quickly gave way to fury.

“Raymond! Do you know what you’ve just said?”

“Me? Of course I do. Do you want me to repeat it?” Raymond ground his teeth, his face contorted with rage as he spat, “I’ll f̲u̲c̲k̲ your entire family up, b̲i̲t̲c̲h̲!”

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