Clap! Clap! Clap!
Applause suddenly rang out from one side of the empty castle.
Under the full moon, a burly man wearing a cast-iron mask abruptly appeared atop a high wall.
He wore a luxurious robe with golden embroidery on the collar and cuffs. His bearing was elegant, and he clapped at a very slow pace.
His expression could not be seen, but his gaze was fixed tightly on Dra and the Duchess.
The man's gaze sharpened in an instant.
The temperature plummeted.
A peculiar red gleam flickered in the eyes beneath his mask. His voice was low, like the muffled growl of a beast.
"Five months ago, I smelled another man's scent on my dear Duchess."
"But I never expected it to belong to a lowly, ugly slave like you."
Dra's body instantly began to tremble. He looked at the burly man in terror. "Duke Dracula..."
But in the next instant—
Dra gritted his teeth and pulled the equally trembling Duchess into his arms.
He said angrily, "A cruel man like you doesn't deserve to be her husband!"
The burly man let out a low, eerie laugh. "Don't deserve her? She doesn't deserve to be the wife of me, Voivode Dracula. No woman does. They are merely playthings. No matter how magnificent their clothes, they are still filthy and vile!"
As he spoke—
He rubbed his wrists together. At some point, his palms had changed. Brown fur had grown over them, and his nails had become black and sharp.
The Voivode sneered. "That is why, when I learned that she was having an affair, I did not expose her. Instead, I chose to ravage her mercilessly!"
"Women are this lowly! The way she suffered while forcing a smile, desperately trying to please me—it was truly irresistible."
The Voivode's eyes