The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

"W-Wait, that's enough!" Argider pushed Fialova back, her voice edged with a tension she couldn't quite control. "Enough, we might… go too far."

"What's wrong with too far?" Fialova asked, her eyes narrowing with dangerous curiosity.

Argider faltered, her composure cracking like glass under pressure. "Let's… leave that for when it's time. Consummation or… something." She was panicking, truly panicking now. Her heart raced, and her hands trembled as unwelcome thoughts clawed at her resolve. She wanted to pull the woman closer. She wanted to pull her pants off.

What is wrong with me? She sighed deeply, the weight of guilt settling in her chest. She'd always been scum, hadn't she? Running to women when she felt like the walls were closing in, no hesitation, no second thoughts. But this time felt different. This time, it felt wrong.

"Why are you not reluctant about… submitting to me?" she asked finally, unable to meet Fialova's gaze.

"Because you're my god," Fialova answered without missing a beat.

Argider froze, her stomach doing a flip so dramatic it could have won medals. "Say what?" she choked out. The girl's utter lack of self-respect was both startling and absurd. And it was all because of that magic she'd given her.

She ran a hand through her hair, pacing like someone trying to outrun their own thoughts. "I-I am not your god! You're your own person!" Her words felt clumsy, unconvincing even to herself. Guilt gnawed at her. Kissing Fialova suddenly felt wrong, like she was breaking some unspoken rule she didn't even know she believed in.

Her mind spiraled. Was it because her mother was in danger, and here she was fooling around? Was it because she was starting to care too much? Why did this feel so different?

— [Personality Trait: Neuroticism ▪︎ +10 EXP!]

— [Personality Trait: Agreeableness ▪︎ +10 EXP!]

The realization hit her like a slap. It was because of her promise. When she died, she'd sworn to her mother, and now her mother might be dead because she was here… doing this.

She didn't want to admit it, but she'd grown attached— to Faeralys, slowly acknowledged her wives, even to the tangled web of her own emotions.

Argider sighed, extending a hand to pull her to her feet. "I'm sorry, my dear fiancé. This… doesn't feel right anymore. Let's just sleep, okay?"

Fialova nodded, and together, they retreated to the bed, the weight of unspoken thoughts settling over them like a shared blanket.

*******

The next day, they woke to a gray, heavy sky, the kind that made everything below it feel small and insignificant. After a quiet breakfast, they resumed their journey through the city's charred remains. Argider chose to ride Uzak's horse instead of taking the carriage, her mood too restless to sit idly.

The city was far from expansive, but the devastation made it feel endless. Homes lay in ruins, blackened by fire. Ash clung to the air like a ghost that refused to leave.

Every turn revealed new horrors—scorched walls, collapsed roofs, and worst of all, the unmistakable shapes of bodies scattered in the rubble. Innocent people. Children. Her people.

Argider's throat tightened as a wave of nausea overtook her. "This is…" she began, but the words didn't come. Instead, her body betrayed her, and she doubled over, vomiting onto the broken street.

Her knights looked away, giving her a moment of privacy, but her shame was a tangible thing, heavy and suffocating.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trembling. All this time, I've been chasing skirts while my own people were being hunted like animals. She clenched her fists. I'm no better than the nobles I despise—looking down from their cushioned seats while the world burns beneath them.

"This is too brutal," Uzak muttered, his usual stoicism giving way to a crack of genuine disgust.

"Whoever did this… they're nothing but savages," one of the knights added, his voice low with anger.

"Savages? Ha! Look in the mirror, you Valtirium dogs!" The voice came from behind them—a deep, mocking growl. It was the bearded man they'd captured the day before, now tied up and being dragged along by a rope like an unruly dog.

His name was Lhanorio, a captain of the enemy tribe, and he wore his defiance like a badge of honor.

"Honestly, fuck you!" One of the female knights, Tina, whirled around and struck him with a punch so hard it sent him sprawling to the ground. The impact echoed in the silence, followed by gasps from her comrades.

"T-Tina, calm down!" one of the soldiers stammered, rushing to hold her back as she trembled with fury.

"You think this is funny?!" Tina snarled, her voice sharp enough to cut. "You think this is some kind of joke?!"

"And you think I'm joking, you woman?!" Lhanorio shot back, spitting blood onto the ground. His glare was a fire that wouldn't die. "We're taking what's *ours*! You lot are nothing but self-righteous thieves, pretending you save people while you conquer them. You've been leeching off our land for centuries!"

Tina broke free of the soldiers holding her back, her fist raised for another strike. Uzak stepped forward, catching her wrist mid-swing. His expression was calm, but the message was clear: *Enough.*

She froze, her jaw tight, her breathing ragged. For a moment, she locked eyes with Uzak, then slowly lowered her fist. She turned away, muttering something under her breath.

Then, just as everyone began to relax, Tina spun back around and delivered another punch, this one so forceful it made a sickening crack. Lhanorio slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"Tina!" someone gasped, but she only spit on the man's face before stomping away, her steps echoing like thunder.

Argider stared after her, momentarily stunned. *That woman…* She wasn't sure if she should be horrified or impressed. *Here I am, whining, and she's out here punching her way through injustice.* For the first time, she felt a twinge of admiration. Maybe she had underestimated women like Tina.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement ahead. Two small figures emerged from the haze, blurry against the hot, smoky air. The knights immediately drew their swords, tense and alert, but the shapes didn't move like soldiers—or beasts.

"Kids?" Fialova gasped, dismounting her horse and rushing forward.

As the figures drew closer, they became clear: two children, a boy and a girl, filthy and battered. The girl clung to the boy's arm, her tear-streaked face buried against him as they stumbled forward.

"H-Help!" the boy cried, his voice breaking.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The girl said nothing, only sobbing uncontrollably as her legs buckled beneath her. Both children were bruised and trembling, their clothes torn and bloodied.

Uzak was the first to reach them, crouching low. "What happened? Where are your parents?"

"They… they took Mama and Papa!" the boy wailed, clutching his sister tightly as if letting go would make her vanish too.

Argider's chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn't guilt—it was rage. Whatever savages had done this, they would pay.