Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 603: You Look Like You Need A Hug

"If you had seen my mother, you would’ve known that she was beautiful. Beautiful beyond imagination."

Carala said with a nostalgic look in her eyes before it twisted into pure malice as she added,

"And that filthy bastard he...he took full advantage of that."

"Every night I could hear her. The screams. The sobs. The things he did to her...the things his friends did."

"I would press my hands over my ears and try to sleep, but the sounds always ca through. Always."

Hearing this, Joy’s face went pale. Her aura, usually so tightly controlled began to flare, pink sparks flickering in the air around her like embers.

Carla continued, voice shaking.

"B-But he didn’t stop at private tornt. He made her parade naked in front of his family. Made her serve wine to his guests while they slapped her, pushed her, laughed. Broke her bones when they grew bored...And she healed."

"Vampires heal fast. So he used it. Over and over. Bones snapped, skin torn, blood everywhere and the next day she was whole again, ready for more."

She shuddered.

"I begged her—every ti she ca back to our cell, broken and bleeding—I begged her to stop. To fight back. To let them kill if that’s what it took."

"But she would only smile."

"No matter how dead her eyes looked...no matter how much pain she was in...she looked at with love. Pure love."

"She never blad . Not once. She treated like I was still her precious little girl. Like none of it was my fault."

Carla’s voice cracked completely.

"My heart shattered every single day. I was supposed to be the one suffering. I was the one who caused this. But she shielded from the worst of it. She hid the darkness so I wouldn’t have to see."

"She sacrificed everything...and still smiled for ."

"And because of that, I honestly wanted to die." Her hands trembled now. "I hated myself. I wanted to take her place, to do anything to stop it. But I couldn’t. I was weak. A coward. I just...existed."

For a long mont, only the sound of Carla’s uneven breathing filled the air.

Then, with a trembling exhale, she whispered.

"But monsters like him never keep their word."

Her eyes grew cold.

"One day, he turned his eyes toward . He couldn’t resist anymore. My mother begged him not to touch . Begged on her knees."

"And when he laughed at her...sothing in her snapped."

"She stopped obeying. She fought back with everything she had. Even though she knew she’d die for it, she didn’t care. She killed 90% of his guards. She tore through them like a storm."

"And when she got to him...she cut off his arm."

Her voice wavered.

"For a mont, I thought...maybe we’d escape. Maybe that was it. Maybe we’d finally be free."

Her eyes glistened, and she gave a bitter smile.

"But of course...life doesn’t give happy endings, does it? More guards ca. They surrounded us. And my mother—she looked at one last ti and used her remaining strength to throw out of the dungeon. She told to run. To never look back."

Her hands clenched tightly now, her whole body trembling.

"I-I scread for her. I told her I wouldn’t leave her. But she just smiled. The sa broken, loving smile she always had."

"And she said...’Go, my little one. Live. I’d rot here for eternity then let you stay here for one more second.’"

Her voice broke completely.

"And that’s what I did. I ran. I ran until I couldn’t breathe, until I collapsed. I kept running because I thought if I stopped, she’d still be behind ."

She closed her eyes, trembling.

"The next morning, in the nearest town, the people found sothing hanging on the gates of the square."

Her lips quivered. "A pair of eyes."

Joy froze, her expression hardening, but her chest felt heavy.

"Everyone thought it was so strange ssage, so bizarre symbol. But I knew. I knew..."

Tears slipped down her face as she whispered,

"...that they were my mother’s."

And hearing Carla’s story all the way to the end, Joy didn’t know what to say.

She had known, from the beginning, that this story would not end well.

But she hadn’t imagined this.

Not this kind of pain. Not this degree of cruelty.

And as she listened, she couldn’t help but see fragnts of her own past reflected in Carla’s.

Mothers forced into impossible situations for the sake of their daughters.

Won who carried the world’s cruelty on their shoulders and fought tooth and nail against fate itself.

The difference was that Joy’s mother, despite everything had managed to break free, to create her own ending.

But Carla’s mother...she hadn’t. Her end had been the worst kind of tragedy.

And thinking about this, Joy felt her chest ache. A dull, heavy ache that she couldn’t ignore.

She had thought her own fate was cruel, that she’d suffered more than most.

But now, hearing Carla’s story, she realized there were people who’d endured even darker hells and lived to tell about it.

Carla’s voice broke the silence again.

Her tone had changed—colder now, but steadier, the tears gone and replaced with a quiet, murderous resolve.

"When I saw those eyes, my mother’s eyes hanging from the town gates, I thought I’d die from grief. But I didn’t."

Her voice grew harsher.

"Instead...sothing else was born inside . Sothing darker."

Joy said nothing, but the faint chill in the air shifted, the aura around Carla pulsing faintly.

"Sadness turned into hatred." Carla continued, her tone trembling with intensity. "Hatred so deep it could drown the gods themselves. I wanted to tear them all apart—every knight, every priest, every noble who ever smiled while others suffered."

"I wanted them to feel it—the sa despair, the sa horror my mother felt."

Her lips curved slightly, but it was not a smile.

"People in that town laughed when they saw the eyes. They joked about them. So said it was a criminal’s punishnt, others said it was art."

"I rember looking at them and imagining ripping their throats out right there on the street."

Her nails pressed into her palms as she spoke.

"But I didn’t. I knew if I acted then, I’d be caught—and die aninglessly. That wasn’t what my mother would have wanted. So I controlled it. I waited."

Carla’s eyes glead crimson under the faint light.

"From that day onward, I made a promise. I would kill—but I would never be caught. And every person I killed would deserve it."

"Every noble, every missionary, every corrupt official who built their lives on the misery of others...they all beca my prey."

Her voice dropped into a low, bitter rhythm like a confession carved into stone.

"And I did. I hunted them. One by one. The scum who trafficked the poor, who burned villages, who treated people like property. I killed them all. Slowly. Brutally."

Her eyes dimd slightly, her tone almost hollow.

"It wasn’t justice. I don’t believe in that word. It was vengeance. Nothing more, nothing less. I beca what the world already thought I was—a monster. The monster they created."

She looked down, her fingers twitching slightly.

"Decades passed. I killed, and killed, and killed. Until finally, they gave a na. The nobles whispered it like a curse. The poor shouted it like a prayer."

Her lips curved faintly.

"The Noble Killer."

She said it like it was both a crown and a curse and when her voice finally faded—she looked up at Joy—half-expecting the Saintess to give a short, cold remark and move on.

Perhaps so words of judgnt. Perhaps quiet understanding.

She didn’t really know. But she expected sothing detached.

Joy, after all, was like her—cold, practical, distant from feelings.

She wasn’t soone who gave comfort, not even to her own allies.

So Carla expected a few calm words,maybe sothing like "I see" and that would be the end of it.

But instead...sothing else happened.

Joy’s eyes lingered on her, quiet and unreadable.

Then, very slowly, she scooted over to her side.

Carla frowned slightly, confused.

"...What are you doing?" She asked warily.

Joy didn’t answer. She simply moved closer and before Carla could even react, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around her.

For a full heartbeat, Carla froze completely.

"W-What?" She stamred, caught between confusion and disbelief. "What are you...doing?"

Joy didn’t answer imdiately. Her expression was calm, though her movents were faintly awkward, hesitant like soone who wasn’t used to this kind of thing.

"This..." Joy murmured, tightening her hold a little. "...isn’t sothing I usually do. And I don’t really know if I’m doing it right. But right now, I don’t know how else to respond."

She sighed again, the sound quiet but heavy.

"The truth is I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to say comforting things—I never have. But whenever I used to feel like you do now...whenever I was lost, drowning in what I’d done, my mother would hug . She never said anything. She didn’t need to."

"Just that warmth...it made the world quiet for a while."

Her voice softened, barely above a whisper.

"So I’m doing the sa. I don’t know if this helps. Maybe you hate it. Maybe you hate for it. But I think...you need so warmth in your life."

Carla was completely stunned.

She didn’t know what to do—her body felt stiff, her thoughts scattered.

For a few seconds, she sat there motionless, unsure whether to push Joy away or just let it happen.

Then, sothing inside her cracked—sothing small but deep. A faint warmth spread through her chest.

She hesitated, her lips trembling, and then, slowly she lifted her arms. With a quiet breath, she wrapped them around Joy in return.

It was clumsy. Hesitant. Both won were stiff, uncertain, clearly out of practice with affection.

But as awkward as it was...it was real.

anwhile, Joy blinked, surprised when she felt Carla’s arms around her. For just a second, her own cheeks flushed faintly.

"You...don’t have to." She murmured.

Carla gave a weak, trembling laugh.

"I know." She said softly. "But just...let ."

So Joy did and let her embrace her.

Just two broken souls who had spent their lives fighting against the world and their own pasts, quietly holding each other.

It was awkward. It was uncertain.

But it was warm.

And in that quiet, fragile embrace, they weren’t the Saintess or the Noble Killer anymore.

They were just Joy and Carla, two won who had suffered, lost, and sohow...still endured.

For that brief mont, the world outside didn’t matter.

Only the warmth between them did.