Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 292: Horrendous Stench

The morning air was crisp, cool, and carried the faint scent of dew-covered earth as birds began their cheerful chorus in the trees. ƒreewebɳovel.com

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the thick forest canopy, glinting off the surface of a serene lake not too far from the camp.

Cassius knelt at the lake’s edge, scooping up a handful of the chilly water and splashing it over his face. Droplets clung to his skin, catching the morning light as they dripped back into the lake in small ripples.

For a moment, he stood still, staring at the reflection of the forest in the water before raising his eyes to take in the view. The towering trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets of the wilderness.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he muttered to himself. "It really is beautiful...I could get used to this."

He straightened up, running a hand through his slightly damp hair as his smile deepened. "It’s been a long time since I’ve had a night like this and feels kind of new." He murmured, his voice carrying just loud enough for the wind to steal it away into the forest.

As he began walking back towards the camp, his mind wandered.

What he meant by "a night like this" wasn’t about the rawness of sleeping on the earth or being in the heart of a wild forest.

No, he was no stranger to such things. Back in his previous world, he’d often gone camping, trekking through forests and mountains where he’d slept under the open sky with no luxury in sight.

Sometimes he hadn’t even had a tent, simply finding a sturdy tree or a flat boulder to curl up on for the night.

This wasn’t about discomfort or strangeness in the wilderness.

What made this night different, what felt so unusual, was that he had slept alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

It was the absence of soft laughter and familiar warmth beside him that made him feel out of place.

Back in his mansion, his nights were never silent, never cold. He’d grown accustomed to sharing his bed with the people he cared about most: his wives and maids.

Every single night, without exception, he surrounded himself with family. Some would call it excessive; others would call it a logistical nightmare.

But to Cassius, it was the perfect arrangement.

Unlike other nobles, who kept multiple wives and rotated their company like scheduled meetings, Cassius detested the idea of making anyone feel less cherished.

He didn’t want his wives to feel they were competing for his affection. He prioritized family above all else, and his way of showing it was by ensuring that every night they were all together.

The solution?...A custom-ordered bed so enormous it could comfortably fit thirty people, a luxurious nest where laughter, warmth, and intimacy mingled.

And of course, during the day, he always made time for private moments with each of them, knowing how important it was to strengthen individual bonds.

Still, nights were sacred...Nights were for family.

Cassius chuckled softly to himself as he walked through the trees, recalling how sometimes, when they were all piled into the giant bed, his wives would fight over who got to cuddle him directly.

At first, he tried taking turns, one on the left, one on the right, but that system quickly crumbled. More often than not, he ended up turning into a ravenous beast, satisfying all of them until they were left scattered across the bed, utterly spent and unable to move, their faces blissful and glowing.

It wasn’t a hardship for him...Quite the opposite, it was his idea of paradise.

"Ah...it’s strange not waking up to Isabelle this morning." A lewd grin spread across his face as another memory crept in, making him chuckle deeper.

Normally, Isabelle, his ever-devoted maid, would already be on her knees beside the bed before he even stirred, her soft lips wrapped around his aching morning arousal.

She always called it her sacred duty as a loyal maid to ensure her young master never started the day in discomfort.

More often than not, two or three of the other maids, unable to resist the temptation, would join her, their tongues and fingers working in sinful harmony. He’d grown so accustomed to this indulgent routine that waking up without it felt almost alien, like something vital was missing.

But then there was that morning.

The morning when all of his wives had woken up early, along with a gaggle of eager maids, each determined to outdo the others in pleasing him.

When Cassius opened his eyes that day, he was greeted by a sight so absurd it almost didn’t feel real, a ring of plump, inviting butts sticking up toward his face, while below, a full circle of beautiful women surrounded his crotch like a sacred altar, each one taking turns to worship his towering, throbbing erection.

The memory still made him smirk. That chaotic, delicious morning when their lips, tongues, and hands never left him for even a moment, their voices melting into a chorus of desperate moans as they competed for his attention.

He hadn’t been able to hold back for long, and in the end, he thoroughly "took care" of every single one of them, leaving them quivering and throbbing in that same sinful circle they had formed around him.

It was a sight he’d never be able to forget, nor would he want to.

For a brief moment, he seriously considered going back to camp and asking Skadi if she wouldn’t mind "helping him out" a little. The thought drew a evil little smirk across his face.

But just as he was about to take another step towards the camp, he froze mid-stride.

His face soured instantly, like he had bitten into the bitterest lemon imaginable. His nose twitched, his brow furrowed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he had to clamp his mouth shut as a wave of nausea unexpectedly hit him.

"...The hell is that smell?" He muttered under his breath, his voice tight with disbelief.

It wasn’t just bad. It was...catastrophic. A obnoxious, pungent scent that seemed to seep into his very soul and cling to the back of his throat.

Yesterday, after gutting every single one of those bandits and spilling their intestines out like buckets of soup, he had been fine.

The metallic tang of fresh blood, the rancid stink of bowels split open, the suffocating rot of flesh beginning to decay, all of it barely registered for him anymore. He had slaughtered enough men in his lifetime that his nose was practically immune to the horrors of gore.

...But this?

This was something entirely new.

It didn’t even smell like death. It was as if someone had taken random ingredients, fish heads, burnt sugar, moldy socks, and maybe a dead skunk for good measure, thrown them all into a cauldron, stirred vigorously, and then left it to ferment under a blazing sun for three weeks straight.

His face twisted as he covered his nose with his sleeve. "What...what kind of unholy alchemy is this?"

To make matters worse, faint noises started drifting toward him through the trees. At first, he thought it was someone in agony, a victim crying out as they were slowly being tortured.

But no, it wasn’t that kind of scream. It was more like a string of sharp little yelps and whines, as if someone were getting repeatedly pricked by thorns or fighting with a rosebush.

And then it hit him.

That voice...He knew that voice.

"...Julie?" He whispered, his brow furrowing even deeper.

With no other choice, Cassius followed the stench and the strange noises. He moved silently through the forest, as he traveled farther than he’d even gone to deal with the bandits last night.

A good thing too...Even Skadi’s sharp nose wouldn’t have been able to catch this abomination from the camp, it was far enough away for her not to notice, thank the heavens.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of enduring that foul scent, Cassius crouched low in the bushes and peeked out into a clearing.

What he saw nearly made him fall over.

Julie.

There she was, sitting on the ground in the middle of the clearing, dressed only in the thin garments she wore beneath her armor, her damp hair braided up neatly as though she had already bathed in the lake earlier.

Sunlight caught her figure in such a way that even Cassius, who had spent nights in bed with countless beauties, paused for a moment to admire how stunning she looked.

But then his admiration turned into sheer disbelief.

Because there, in front of her, was a cooking setup.

A small fire crackled merrily with a pot hanging precariously over it. Something thick and lumpy was boiling inside, the source of that godforsaken smell.

She was cooking.

Julie, his noble, proud, and battle-hardened captain, was cooking.

But not only was she attempting that culinary abomination, she was also multitasking in a way that made Cassius rub his eyes just to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Spread out beside her was an open book lying on the ground, and every now and then, she glanced at it with a concentrated frown. In her hands, she clutched two knitting needles with yarn, trying her hardest to sew something.

Cassius blinked.

’She was...cooking and Knitting...at the same time?’

For a brief moment, he almost admired her dedication. But then, then, he noticed the details.

Even without looking in the pot, he knew whatever she was cooking was diabolical. That smell alone could kill a grown man.

Surely, she wasn’t actually trying to poison him in his sleep? He wouldn’t put it past her at this point.

And the knitting...God forbid, the knitting.

Julie squinted at the book like it had personally wronged her, her lips moving quickly as she muttered instructions under her breath with the determination of a scholar trying to decipher ancient, forbidden runes.

"Okay...insert needle...pull the thread...gently now...gently..."

She carefully pushed the needle through the fabric, her tongue poking out slightly in focus. For a brief, shining moment, it looked like she had succeeded, until the thread slipped clean out of the eye of the needle and dangled uselessly.

"Arghhh!" Julie’s entire body stiffened as her face turned red with fury. She clenched the needle in a death grip and shook it violently at the sky like it had betrayed her. "Why?! Why does this keep happening?!"

She jammed the thread back into the needle with such force it nearly bent, then stabbed it down into the fabric again, this time with the resolve of a woman trying to stab her enemies instead of stitch a hem.

Prick!

"OW!"

Julie yelped and immediately shoved her finger in her mouth, glaring daggers at the fabric as if it had personally decided to rise up and attack her...