Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



There were more than forty tents huddled deep inside the mountain foot. Normally, people would've waited until nightfall for an ambush due to the vast indifference in the numbers, but Damien was impatient and confident in his skills that he immediately ordered the ambush.

Since he's the hero and a friend of the lady duchess, Sir Allister trusted his judgment.

"Remember, they are here to kill your duchess," said Damien, his voice low and forbidding. "Show no mercy. The only one we need is that two men, right there." He pointed at the beardy and baldy guy. "Kill the others and capture them."

As an avalanche erupted, the squadron of knights, Luther and Damien, charged toward the group of tents. It was a short distance for the cavalry to charge through, and they reached their target within five seconds.

The tent was made of simple cloth, held together with a single string. They didn't have any time to prepare themselves, so they were caught off-guard. The moment Damien arrived, he stabbed his borrowed sword deep into the back of a woman, killing her on the spot.

The sound of her scream alerted the others in the tent, but by then, it was already too late. A torrent of blood spilled out of their tent as the knights mercilessly slew everyone inside.

A large clash between the knights and the bandit had started. Blood spilled everywhere.

There were at least more than fifty men in the tents and they were all not useless. There were some skilled warriors within them who fought back against the knights.

However, it was obvious that the knights were superior in strength and speed. After all, between disciplined and proper training, some mere bandits are nothing. 

Damien stood in the center of the battlefield, his sword dripping with blood. He watched as the baldy guy ran away while carrying the two men.

"After him!" shouted Damien.

"I'll kill you!" shouted another bandit.

He slashed at Damien with his short sword, but Damien blocked it with his borrowed sword.

"Haha," laughed Damien. "You think you can fight me with that rusty sword?"

The bandit clicked his tongue and attacked again. The attack was similar to the previous one, but this time, Damien just sidestepped and the rusty metal fell to the ground with a great curve.

Before the bandit has time to regain balance, Damien, with a simple fluid movement, thrust his sword through the man's neck.

Blood spluttered and gargled out of the hole as the man fell to the ground and twitched until he did not.

He looked at the gory body. His eyes peered at the still oozing wound on the neck.

He didn't feel anything. Taking someone's life and he isn't feeling anything at all.

This wasn't normal, he does know that. If he were back on Earth, he would've been probably be dead just seeing all the blood.

He heard another cry behind his back. With a sudden sharp turn, he sliced open the man's gut spilling open his intestines and other groggy parts.

The new dead man was similar to the previous one while he was dying.

Damien took a deep breath and calmed his thumping heart. This was for survival. Not the plot but for his own personal and selfish desire.

These people did not need to be killed but he killed them. And he doesn't have any remorse for that. 

This was simply life and he knows it. The survival of the fittest, so they say.

On the other side, Luther plowed through the bandits like a hot knife cutting through a block of butter.

He twisted, turned, and doubled down on enemies and killed them with trained efficiency.

Damien saw a woman running through the other side of the woods. He took a look at the bearded man and the baldy, both of them were occupied by the knights.

So he made his way to the woods after her. He vaulted over the dead bodies and the tents.

He followed the bloody footprints until he could see the silhouette of the woman running toward the forest.

Damien chased after her. He was fast and faster than the woman. He grabbed her by her blue hair and slammed her to the ground. She groaned in pain as she coughed up blood.

"You think you can run away from me?" asked Damien.

"Please don't kill me," pleaded the woman. "I have a husband and two kids."

"Oh wow, such cliche dialogues. Can't you say something other than this?" He asked feeling very disappointed that the dialogues were written very basic.

The lady gulped not knowing what to do. She can't run away since he had her by the hair. She can't even attack her as she had first handedly seen what type of a monster he was.

"Why did you want to kill the duchess?" asked Damien.

"W-What?"

"The duchess. Why did you want to kill her?"

"I-I don't know," answered the woman. She quivered and shook like a leaf. "It was our leader who told us to kill her."

"Do you know where your leader is?"

The woman shook her head.

"Then I don't have any use for you," said Damien. He raised his sword above her. She could see the silhouette of the blade on the ground. She closed her eyes and started to murmur some type of prayer or something for the inevitable to come.

The woman was useless, he could understand that from his brief encounter. She would've spilled the beans the moment he raised the sword. But she just simply closed her eyes and prayed, which means she knows there was nothing else on her that can grant her freedom.

Damien held that position for a second and slowly put the sword back. After not getting stabbed for a moment the woman opened her eyes in confusion.

"I will spare you this time," said Damien. "But I will not hesitate to kill you if you do anything suspicious. Do you understand?"

The woman nodded vigorously.

"Good," said Damien. "If you see your leader or any suspicious lady tell her Damien Von Zadkiel had annihilated her plans and he's coming for her. And also tell her her dialogues are the most cringe-worthy."

Even though she doesn't understand what he was saying she nodded vigorously regardless.

He loosened her hair and she scrambled backward, hugging her knees and looking at him fearfully. His body was covered in blood, not his, but his enemies. His eyes were cold and distant. Her dark eyes winced and cast away just from one glance at his crimson eyes.

Damien didn't really know what he was doing, he just wanted to kill them.

They were weak, they were powerless, and they were helpless. They were no one and yet they tried to attack the duchess.

He stood up and walked back to the slaughter zone. The sound of screaming and steel clashing had subsided and the knights were finishing up the remaining bandits.

He went to Allister and asked him. "Any casualties?"

"No, not much, young master," answered Sir Allister. "We lost five men, two horses, and we captured twenty-six of their men."