The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 755: Lessons in Mate Bonding

TW: Torture

The Orcish Prince, however, had now learned better from the elves. While orcs had never been big on torture and usually honored their battles by fighting directly and ending things cleanly, there were tis when a different approach was necessary.

"You will never—"

Before she could finish her goading, the prince suddenly moved.

A short spear pierced her shoulder.

It went clean through, and yet he left it lodged there.

Her eyes bulged in shock before her voice finally caught up.

"ARGGHHHHHH!"

"You! How da—"

Her second scream tore out when another short spear embedded itself into her right leg. The prince left that one on her, too. Blood splattered across the ground as she clutched at the weapons, trembling violently.

When she looked at the prince’s face, stoic yet murderous, she felt her stomach twist. Words would not save her. Not now.

Panic jolted through her, and she attempted to shift into another form.

Nothing happened.

"!!!"

"What? Can’t morph?" the prince asked calmly.

Her breathing hitched. "What did you do to ?" She coughed, then vomited blood, her entire body shaking.

"I guess you will never be able to morph again," said the prince. His eyes glowed deathly red as he reached down toward her.

She tried to recoil, but the spears impaled in her body tore at her flesh and she scread again, writhing on the ground.

But the prince did not go for her neck.

To her horror, he grabbed the ends of the tal shafts of the spears still embedded in her flesh and, with deliberate force, bent them.

Not outward.

But inward.

Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.

"!!!"

He curved the ends toward one another until they t, forming cruel loops of tal that wrapped around her flesh like jagged bracelets, locked permanently in place. The tal tightened, pressing into skin and bone, all while she scread in terror.

"AHHHHHHH!"

She was shaking on her knees, the pain almost making her pass out. But more than the imdiate pain was the realization that the prince had no intention of killing her quickly.

And he had no intention of removing the spears.

With no options left, the princess reached for the last and most desperate thod all elven royalty carried—poison in the mouth. A single bite and incantation, she could take herself out rather than be captured.

But before she could even activate it, a massive orc fist slamd into her face.

She blacked out instantly—missing the Orcish Prince’s words of praise, "My wife was right. I would always win if I never announced when I’m going to attack."

__

It would have been better if she never woke up.

Because the mont her eyes opened, even the simple act of breathing made her entire body pulse with a deep, dragging pain that refused to let her drift back into unconsciousness.

If she could just get clocked again, she would gladly fall back into slumber. Or maybe she would die and finally be better off than this. Maybe then she could curse all of them in her death.

But the captured princess could not even take herself out.

Not for lack of trying.

The very mont she scread profanities and tried to activate the secret poison hidden in her mouth, she realized with pure, horrified disbelief that the storage gland had been removed while she slept.

That traitor.

It could only have been her cousin. Who else would rat them all out like that?

She let out a strangled, broken laugh as the taste of iron filled her mouth. Maybe if she choked on her own blood she could manage to leave this world after all.

As if the blasted orcs would allow that.

They kept sending healers one after another, ensuring she survived no matter how much she writhed in pain.

Survive for what?

Apparently, it was so she could witness just how insane everyone truly was.

She thought it would be another miserable day. Another torturous cycle of pain and healing, healing and pain, over and over.

But that day was different.

Because on that day, the princess watched the orcs descend on a hidden planet used exclusively by elven royalty.

Her mind scread.

How?!

Forcefully held in place so she could not look away, she stared in disbelief at the sight of orc vessels approaching the secret sanctuary. She could not help but choke on the bitter irony.

Had the prideful, stubborn orcs actually made a deal with humans just to acquire a ship capable of traveling this far?

Both elves and orcs had left their ho planets through human technology, but the difference between the two races was vast. Elves eagerly made profitable deals for advanced travel, spreading across new planets faster than their other counterparts.

anwhile, those brutes only accepted the barest deals. They hated cooperating. The agreents only held because their galaxy contained resources humans valued enough to tolerate them. So even if they made too few deals, they still got sothing out of it. But surely that could never amount to the progress made by the elves.

And yet here they were.

How the hell!

The elven king had chosen this hiding place precisely because the orcs should never have been able to reach it.

Then her eyes widened as another question hit her.

Wait.

How did they even know where to look?

Did orcs have another thod of tracking their mates?

Her thoughts raced, tumbling over one another. She searched for an answer, but the truth was far more outrageous than even she expected.

It was all because of Prince Silarion’s preparations and that insane creation called a "Life Bond."

He had not exactly invented it himself, but he had improved and realized the ancient binding thod used by their ancestors. As a hopeless romantic, he reworked it not to simply chain couples together but to protect honest and loving relationships.

And so imagine everyone’s surprise when the Elven King, busy arranging another wedding for his son, failed in the most spectacular way.

The exasperated prince, whose body had been practically bleached and dicated so frequently that he fainted daily, had tried to explain to his father that it would be useless.

But the Elven King, convinced that he had successfully severed the mating bond between his son and that orc, pushed forward stubbornly.

Only to find himself, his guests, and the entire ceremony right in the middle of an orcish siege.