Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 660: Holyfield Badminton Tournament

Cassius’s brow furrowed.

"Valheim?" He searched his mory. "Where have I heard that na before?"

Lucius nodded, expecting the question.

"You might rember it from your trip to slay the Leviathan. It’s the family that rules over the area where Nala used to stay. The estate where we’ve been trying to buy the land around the lake where Nala’s grandmother is."

Understanding dawned on Cassius’s face.

"Ah. Those Valheims."

"Indeed." Lucius’s expression grew annoyed. "And despite us offering extrely generous amounts—far above market value for those lands—they refuse to sell. Just to spite us."

He clicked his tongue as he explained,

"As everyone in the continent knows, the two estates don’t get along at all."

"The Valheims are old blood, you see. One of the families that helped found the kingdom. Because of that they look down on newer houses like the Holyfields, who have risen to the top in recent generations."

Cassius listened, his expression growing colder.

"Because of their spite, they refuse to cooperate with us on anything."

Lucius’s voice carried a hint of frustration.

"I honestly don’t know if dealing with them will be peaceful. They might be quite unruly during their visit."

Cassius thought about everything he knew of the Valheim estate.

And it wasn’t good.

They were the quintessential corrupt noble household.

They did nothing to serve the common people under their rule.

Instead, they bled them dry with excessive taxes while providing no security, no regulations, nothing.

Corrupt officials ran rampant throughout their lands, and the only priority was filling the family’s coffers.

Even the ministers in the capital complained about them.

About their greed, their negligence, their complete disregard for anyone beneath their station.

But because the Valheims were old blood—because their ancestors had literally helped lay the foundation of the kingdom no one was willing to move against them.

They had immunity through history, through tradition, through the simple fact that they had always been there.

And that immunity had made them arrogant beyond asure.

They did whatever they wanted.

And now they were coming here.

Cassius let out a long breath.

He really, really did not want to deal with people from such an estate.

But he also knew he had no choice.

So, he streched lightly before a smile spread across his face—not a warm smile, but the smile of soone who had decided not to let annoyance ruin his night.

"Valheim estate or whatever they may be." He said, forcing a smile. "Let them co. They’re only staying for a day or so—it’s not that big of a deal."

"And if anything happens, we’ll deal with it then."

"But anyway..."

He threw an arm around Lucious’s shoulder, pulling him along toward the door.

"...enough about those bastards. Let’s go play so badminton."

Lucius blinked. "Badminton, Young Master?"

"You need a break. So ti to relax and have fun." Cassius grinned down at him. "Badminton is perfect for that. So tell —have your skills improved since last ti?"

Lucius’s face imdiately lit up with competitive fire.

"Young Master! The last ti we played, you defeated horribly! I didn’t gain a single point!"

He puffed out his chest.

"But this ti, I am confident that I can gain at least five points against you!"

Cassius laughed.

"Five points? That’s quite optimistic, isn’t it?" He pulled Lucius closer. "Well, let’s see about that. If you really think you can manage it."

And just like that, master and butler made their way to the garden, rackets in hand.

But of course, it didn’t stay just the two of them for long.

The maids, seeing their young master playing, couldn’t resist joining in. Soon they had ford their own teams, laughing and cheering as they took turns facing off against each other.

The sisters of the church, watching from nearby, slowly drifted over as well.

At first they just observed, but the infectious energy of the gas pulled them in.

Before long, they had ford their own pairs and were playing with genuine enthusiasm.

What started as a simple ga between master and butler transford into an impromptu tournant.

Under the stars, with torches lighting the garden, the entire household ca alive with excitent.

Shuttlecocks flew through the air. Cheers erupted with every point. Laughter rang out into the night.

And surprisingly—Joy and Carla also joined.

Not willingly, of course.

Maria had essentially pushed them into it, dragging them onto the court with cheerful insistence that they "needed to have fun for once."

Both won had resisted at first, but Maria’s maternal authority was not sothing easily defied.

They were placed on the sa team.

And sohow, despite their initial reluctance, they discovered they worked together remarkably well.

Carla’s speed and precision complented Joy’s power and reach.

They communicated with minimal words, anticipating each other’s movents with the instinct of born warriors.

Match after match, they advanced.

The semifinals.

The finals.

Where they faced Cassius and Lucius.

The crowd gathered around the court, the excitent palpable. Maids and sisters alike cheered for both sides, though secretly most were rooting for Cassius.

Joy and Carla faced their opponents with fierce determination.

This was it.

A chance to beat Cassius at sothing.

To finally prove they could overco him.

The match began.

It was intense.

Back and forth, point for point, the shuttlecock flying so fast it was barely visible.

Lucius held his own surprisingly well, his earlier confidence not entirely unfounded.

But it was Cassius who dominated—his movents effortless, his shots precise, his anticipation of their strategies almost supernatural.

In the end, it wasn’t even close.

Cassius and Lucius won.

Joy stood there, racket hanging at her side, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and utter fury.

Carla beside her looked similarly wrecked, her competitive spirit crushed beneath the weight of another defeat at Cassius’s hands.

They had lost.

Again.

While the rest of the household erupted in cheers—celebrating Cassius’s victory—Joy and Carla stood in silence, glaring at the man who had beaten them.

Cassius caught their gaze and offered a small, almost apologetic smile.

It didn’t help.

If anything, it made them angrier.

But the night continued around them.

His wives rushed to congratulate Cassius.

The sisters praised everyone’s performance.

Maria clapped her hands together, looking satisfied with how everything had turned out.

And slowly, despite their frustration, even Joy and Carla found themselves swept up in the warmth of the mont.

The tournant ended.

—

The night had grown deep and still, the mansion settling into peaceful silence after the chaos of the evening’s tournant.

Most of the household had long since retreated to their rooms, exhaustion finally catching up after hours of laughter and competition.

But in Joy’s room, a rather particular sight could be found.

Three figures lay tangled together on the bed.

Maria occupied the center position.

And shockingly—Joy and Carla were on opposite sides of her.

They also weren’t just sleeping in the sa bed.

They were sleeping together in an intimate, almost familial manner as Maria held each of their hands in her own, her arms wrapped around them like a protective barrier.

Her eyes were closed, a deeply satisfied smile playing on her lips even in sleep.

This was all because Maria had been quite angry at both of them for ditching her yesterday. For running off with Cassius without her.

And she had made it clear in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t going to let them escape again.

Carla had insisted there was no need for such things. No need to hold hands. No need to sleep together.

Maria had ignored every protest.

She had grabbed them both and held on tight.

And now here they were.

Carla, for her part, had struggled at first.

It had been a long, long ti since she had slept beside anyone else.

The last ti was with her mother, countless years ago, in a life that felt like a distant dream.

But as the warmth seeped into her, as the steady rhythm of Maria’s heartbeat reached her ears, she realized sothing.

It felt the sa.

The sa warmth her mother had given her.

The sa sense of safety.

The sa feeling of being protected.

Despite her embarrassnt, despite the strange vulnerability of the situation, Carla found herself relaxing.

And then, unconsciously, pressing closer. Seeking more of that warmth, more of that safety.

Joy was the last to fall asleep.

She was used to sleeping next to her mother and even Aqua. That was normal. Comfortable.

But Carla?

Carla was different.

She didn’t know how to feel about this.

Didn’t know what to think about sharing a bed with the vampire assassin who had been her rival, her partner, her...sothing.

But when she saw how peaceful Carla looked—how both she and Maria seed so comfortable, almost like true mother and daughter—a tiny smile tugged at the corner of Joy’s lips.

It was barely visible.

Almost nonexistent.

But it was there.

And with that small smile, she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

Her last conscious thought was a prayer to the Goddess.

She needed answers. About Cassius. About everything.

If things continued like this, she would truly go mad. She would lose all sense of purpose, all direction in life.

’Tomorrow.’ She thought. ’I’ll pray tomorrow. The Goddess will guide .’

And then she slept.

The night deepened.

Silence reigned.

Until—

"Mmm—!"

A sound.

Joy’s eyes snapped open.

Her body tensed, instincts screaming that sothing was wrong.

An intruder? An enemy attack?

But as she listened, she realized the sound wasn’t coming from outside.

It was coming from beside her.

She turned her head slowly, carefully, and her eyes widened.

Carla.

Carla was making noises in her sleep.

"Ahhh—! Nnnn—! Haughh—!"

Grunting. Moaning. Whining like an animal in pain. Her body writhed on the bed, twisting and turning as if fighting so invisible enemy.

But it was more than that.

Her face was flushed—deeply, intensely flushed.

Even through her naturally dark skin, Joy could see the blood rising beneath the surface.

It looked almost like she was burning with fever.

Her mouth also opened, gasping for air and her fangs extended.

Joy sat up, alard and confused.

Was this normal? She didn’t know enough about vampires, about their biology, their needs, their vulnerabilities.

Was Carla sick? Was this so kind of natural thing that happened in her sleep?

She opened her mouth to call out—

And then Carla howled.

"Ahhhhhhh—!"

A raw, desperate sound that cut through the night like a blade.

Her eyes flew open.

They were completely red. Bright crimson, glowing with an almost feral light.

It was like sothing inside her, sothing ancient and hungry had awakened.

She launched herself off the bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. Her body curled in on itself, shaking, as she groaned and moaned in obvious agony.

"B-Blood." She gasped, her voice distorted, barely human. "I need blood. I need—"

The commotion woke Maria.

She sat up instantly, fumbling for the lamp, her eyes wide with panic.

"What’s wrong? What happened? Who’s asking for blood in the middle of the—"

She froze.

Carla was on the floor, writhing, her crimson eyes fixed on sothing. On soone.

On Maria.

Maria’s blood ran cold.

"C-Carla?" She stamred. "What’s wrong with you? What happened?"

She started to move toward her—

Carla’s hand shot up.

"Don’t!" The word was a desperate plea. "Don’t co near ! Please!"

Maria froze mid-motion.

Carla’s breathing was ragged, each inhale a struggle.

"I need Cassius!" She gasped. "I need Cassius right now. Tell him to co here. Please. I need him. I need his blood!"

Joy, who had been in shock, snapped into action.

She didn’t understand why Cassius was necessary in this situation, but she didn’t hesitate.

She moved toward the door, ready to drag him here if necessary—

But just then, the door burst open.

Wood slamd against the wall with enough force to crack it.

Everyone froze and turned to see Cassius standing in the doorway.

He was breathing heavily, clearly having run here the mont he heard Carla’s cries.

Maria felt an overwhelming wave of relief the mont she saw him.

She didn’t know why. She didn’t understand it. But just his presence made her feel like everything would be okay.

She opened her mouth to explain—

—but then her eyes drifted downward.

Her face went from relieved to frozen.

To absolutely, impossibly, spectacularly red.

The color spread across her cheeks, down her neck, up to her ears. Her eyes started trembling . Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

She leaned back against the bed fra, dizzy, as if the blood had rushed from her head to sowhere else entirely.

Carla, despite the agony coursing through her veins, despite the burning hunger consuming her mind, also froze.

Her crimson eyes narrowed.

Then widened.

Utter disbelief replaced the primal need for a single, staggering mont.

And Joy—composed, stoic, untouchable Joy—followed their gazes.

Her eyes landed on the sa sight.

And for the first ti in perhaps her entire life, the Saint of Judgnt blushed profusely.

A faint, barely-there pink dusted her cheeks.

She looked away quickly.

But the image was already burned into her mory.

One she probably would never forget in her life.