Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master

Sitting in the same position for hours is a hell of a task. You need to have determination, unwavering will, and minimum body strength. If you don't have the above skills then you'll be like our hero, Damien.

Grumpy and old in a young body.

He could feel the cramps on his legs. His already weak body was now feeling more weak. His bones and joints were stiff. Not to mention, the mosquitos invading the bush were so harsh and brutal!

Mother fuckers suck blood like a succubus giving head.

Though he was sure the ones who got nothing here will be mosquitoes, as they are just sucking on just bones.

...

It was evening. Silent and serene except for nature doing its wonder.

'Why was she here? Was it for me? If so, how did she find out?' Many questions swirled around him, like ants attracted to crumbs

But all was good since he wasn't caught.

This scenario was entirely new to him. Something that was created because of his intervention and selfishness.

Luther is an important character in the novel. He was useful for the upcoming war and the mandatory element in the development of a certain character.

Him being dead here can hurt the story but honestly...who cares?

He has more importance as a character than Luther. After all, he was the child of prophecy. The harbinger of destruction. The villain that triggered the war of the four kings.

So his life is more important than anyone who got captured.

'...'

'Well...I'll report to father about the matter along with the location of Maelys's fort. That'll be good enough!'

After doing one more round of checking, Damien slowly rose and carefully made his way back to the wagons or whatever remains there.

...

Blood. The smell of wet blood spread throughout the area. It lingered here even after many hours. It was nauseating. He didn't like it at all.

He pinched his nose and walked through the bloody mud.

Large grooves of wagon wheels being drawn were imprinted on the road.

'Bloody hell!'

There were no bodies though, only blood remained as the remnant of the battle.

Along with blood and sword marks, some places had scorch marks on them, evidence of magic!

He was glad he investigated the bathing or else...he wasn't sure he would've survived something like this.

Even the servants were stronger than him.

'Alright, let's go home.'

Was his plan until something sharp pressed on his neck.

"Move and you're dead!"

Cold. Both the words and the thing that pressed against him. He could feel the sharpness of the blade on him. The smell of blood from the blade invaded his nose, making him squint in it.

"What do you want? Money? Power? I can give it all. Name it and it's yours. Just let me go." He negotiated.

He was surprisingly calm on the outside even though his heart was threatening to rip out from his body. He was sure there was no way he was coming alive if the guy actually wants to kill him.

Since he didn't do it then that means there is something that the guy wants from him.

"Where did they take them? Take me to your base or I shall end it here!" He commanded.

"Oh?! You think a feeble guy like me is a part of them?" He chuckled.

"I don't care who you are. Lead me to them or I'll discard you since you're useless." He proclaimed with a hint of desperation in it.

'Mother fucker! If I wanted to die then I would've intentionally gotten caught by Maelys when she was bathing. At least, that death was noble.'

"I'm the second son of Zedkiel duchy. You think they won't find you? Do you have any idea what they will do to you when they find you? Your entire family will be scorched. You won't even get a single piece of them to do a proper funeral. You dont--"

"I don't care who you are." He sharply cut him off. "My family is captured by them. I need to find them. You're either useful to me or you're dead. Choose wisely!"

"Wisely, my ass! How the fuck am I going to find something I don't even know?!" Damien cursed.

He couldn't understand someone this unreasonable. Who is this guy? This is not even a novel event. He was truly unprepared for something like this.

He made a decision not to alter any more of the novel events. This medicine was an exception as it will be like a one-time cheat. And he doesn't need any more power and can enjoy his life with it.

"As you wish!" The mysterious crack of a dude slowly slid the sword to the side but before he could slide it back to cut the throat he heard a frantic voice.

"Fine! Fine! I'll show you the way! Get that away from me!" Real fear took over Damien. He understood he could actually die here and no one will even know.

I mean what would be even the point even if anyone find his body? There simply was no coming back from the dead which means his un-popped cherry will be un-popped in this world too. Wasting his precious second chance.

'should've just pounded Lily!'

"Is that right? And if I find you untrusty, there won't be a second chance." The cold metal pressed against his throat was quickly removed. With a push, Damien staggered to the ground.

He clasped his neck and cursed himself for being too weak.

He gazed back to see his captor.

The guy was tall and well-fitted, draped in black leather armor. There wasn't an ounce of any other color on his dress. He was that black-black.

What was striking more was his golden hair and cold blue eyes that perfectly fitted his sculpted face.

!!!!

'No way! Is that... Is it really that guy?!'

Damien had goosebumps all over him. He never thought to meet this guy like this. At least at this stage. Like, it's been only a day since he was transmigrated and he already met the one guy he didn't want to get involved with.

"Hey! What's your name?"

The young man who was wiping his sword off the blood looked at the timid young master.

"Calen." He coldly replied. "Now that our introductions are over, let us get on with our journey."