Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



The man then took turns to please every woman in the bedroom and none of them was even able to please him. It was a sad thing for a man who lives for more than a thousand years, but at least he was able to fulfil the needs of his women.

After the last woman fell asleep in his bed, he walked out of the bed. On his way out, he grabbed the gown from a chair and donned it. The wooden door creaked like it has not been used for a long time, and the man stopped for a moment.

His hand hovered on the doorknob, torn between returning to his women or seeking respite in the open air. Eventually, he chose the latter and stepped into the castle's courtyard.

The fortress stood close to a cliff, where the wild sea wind always blew. The cold breeze kissed his face as he breathed in the fresh air.

"The salty air feels nice," he murmured, realizing it had been quite some time since he last visited this spot.

The night sky above was dark, without a single star or moon to illuminate the Forgotten Land. It was a realm of despair, where the lost and damned roamed.

Despite the desolation, there was a peculiar charm that drew him in. Leaning against the stone battlement, his crimson eyes scanned the horizon. Thoughts of the women he left behind tugged at his heart.

In the pitch-black realm, the lord's eyes shone with a unique brightness, allowing him and his people to see in the dark. They had adapted to this environment, able to discern even the faintest glimmer of light.

Suddenly, a swift whoosh cut through the air, and a large black bird with crimson eyes appeared. It circled above the man before gracefully landing on the stone battlement. Its outstretched wings were bigger than any raven he had ever seen.

To anyone else, this bird would be invisible, as its wings were the darkest of the dark, even darker than the night itself.

Without even looking at the bird, the lord spoke, "What news have you brought from the mortal realm, my daughter?"

The bird shook its head, and its feathers unfurled, revealing a lightless glow that enveloped the creature. In the blink of an eye, the bird transformed into a woman who steadied herself on the battlement, taking in the salty air.

"...I missed this air," she said wistfully, her flowing dark hair dancing in the breeze. Her crimson eyes met her father's, and she couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions.

"It's always nice to see you, my child," the man replied, offering his daughter a warm smile. But then, he scrunched his nose, detecting an unfamiliar smell. His eyes silently demanded answers.

"I had to give my bond a warm hug. He was breaking down, you know," she explained, her gaze fixed on the endless darkness of the sea below.

The lord chuckled at the thought. "You have a soft spot for him now?" he teased.

"You are the one who sent me to him. To your descendant, you say, Father," she retorted, her expression now serious. The cold wind brushed against her skin, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You never change, Father," she muttered, shaking her head, avoiding his touch. She sighed, her sadness evident. "Why did you do that, Father? Why did you send me to him? Of all the people in that family, you decided to send me to a stupid pervert."

Despite the sharpness of her words, there was no animosity in her voice, and the Lord noticed that.

"The others were too powerful and arrogant. They didn't want any company, but he was different. He was weak and pitiful, with no one caring for him," he explained.

"They care about him," she countered, her face reflecting her conflicting emotions. "I think."

"At that time, he was miserable—full of self-doubt, loathing, and guilt for dragging his family down. And who better than him as a candidate?" He gazed at his daughter, admiring her mother's features, beauty, and fiery personality. "He needed someone to love him unconditionally. For a boy like that, getting a bond was the best thing that could happen."

The daughter's eyes softened as she listened to her father's explanation. She knew him well, understanding that he always had a reason behind his actions. Her father's wisdom and insight were unmatched, and she respected him for it. Yet, she couldn't help but worry about the choices she had to make, the paths she had to walk, just like him.

"I know you have your reasons, Father," she said softly, her gaze distant. "But sometimes, I wonder if we are doing the right thing. If our actions bring about the changes we want, or if they only lead to more pain and suffering."

The Lord placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a rare show of affection. "We cannot always predict the outcome of our actions," he said gently. "But we must have faith in ourselves and the choices we make. We may stumble along the way, but we must keep moving forward with conviction and love in our hearts."

She looked up at him, her crimson eyes meeting his. "Are we really going to do it? A war? For what? A dying kingdom that won't even survive outside for a day?"

"It's the only way, my child," he answered, his gaze full of sadness. "They are dying. My people are dying. They can't survive here any longer. They won't be able to. I lost your mother here. And I'm not willing to lose you, too."

They shared a moment in the moonlight, their sorrow and pain evident.

"Tell me about their situation?" The Lord asked, changing the subject. "Tell me about your bond. How is he? Has Lady Lilith confronted him?"

A chuckle escaped her lips, and she shook her head. "You have no idea how much trouble that woman is."

The Lord grinned at her. "So she did confront him? Did he plead for mercy or something?"

"And you have no idea what type of man my bond is, Father."