Chapter 395: A Living Nightmare

Oberon, sensing the precariousness of his situation, quickly tried to deflect the accusation, "That's not mine. I happened to find it here," he said, attempting to sound convincing.

Asher, however, was not swayed by such a silly explanation.

He responded with a cold smile, "You might be telling the truth. But to make sure, perhaps I should pass an order to have your memory of this day investigated. We'll see if you're really being truthful. I have enough reason to do so."

Oberon's face turned a shade of red, a clear sign of his realization that he was trapped.

Seeing Oberon's reaction, Asher scoffed as he raised one of his feet to place it on Oberon's bed while looking down on him, "You must feel like a fish out of water now that your mother isn't here to always protect you and clean up your mess," he remarked, his tone laced with disdain, "You must really be not used to it, doing something this stupid in my presence."

Oberon, feeling the walls closing in, his fingers digging into his skin in frustration, managed a forced smile, "I...I am sure...we can come to an understanding...right?" he asked, hoping to negotiate his way out of the situation.

Oberon understood that if Asher really intended to escalate this issue, he wouldn't be lingering in the room, engaging in conversation.

He had to keep holding in his fury as he said these words because there was no other choice.

Asher's lips curled into a slight, knowing smile. "Of course, we can come to an understanding. But the question is... are you willing to pay for such an understanding?" he asked, his tone carrying a sense of danger.

Oberon's expression became wary, his brows furrowing as he realized the gravity of the situation, "What... kind of payment are you talking about?" he asked cautiously, fearing the answer.

"The kind that allows me to break your bones and make you bleed as I wish," Asher stated bluntly and coldly, yet maintaining a calm smile.

"W-What?! Are you—" Oberon's initial reaction was one of shock and disbelief. He was about to call Asher mad, but he quickly checked himself, not wanting to provoke him further.

The audacity of Asher's demand sent a wave of anger coursing through him.

Was this alien filth truly asking him to become a punching bag? Oberon couldn't help but wonder if this entire situation, from picking him for the journey to this confrontation, had been orchestrated by Asher to corner him.

But even if that was the case, it didn't matter now.

"Well, if you're feeling hesitant, then let's settle this once we get back home, though I doubt you may not live-" Asher began, his voice laced with a thinly veiled threat.

"Fuck that! I... I accept the terms..." Oberon interrupted, his voice strained and his teeth clenched in frustration and resignation.

As Oberon barely finished his words of reluctant agreement,

*Phrsshk!*

"AARGH!!!"

Asher's fist connected abruptly with his face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch. Oberon cried out in pain, completely caught off guard, not expecting Asher to begin his punishment immediately.

"W-Wait! Not now!" Oberon exclaimed, raising his hands in a futile attempt to defend himself while covering his bloodied nose.

But Asher was relentless. He grabbed Oberon's wrists, twisting them into unnatural angles, snapping the bones effortlessly.

"Crak!*

"Aaarghhh!!"

"You don't get to decide when I should punish you," Asher stated, his voice calm but his eyes burning with a dangerous, dark intensity.

Oberon groaned in agony, his fear escalating as he witnessed the unforgiving expression on Asher's face, "Urghh...No... wait... the others will know you did this to me," he stammered, trying to appeal to any sense of restraint Asher might have.

Asher, however, was unmoved, "You grabbed almost all of the good healing supplies we had. I will make sure not to target any vital points so that you can quickly heal," he said coldly.

With a chilling smile, he proceeded to batter Oberon mercilessly, the sounds of his cries and groans filling the room while his blood splattered across the walls and stained the sheets.

Meanwhile, in another room where Leonidas and Silvan were resting, they felt subtle vibrations coming from above. Leonidas looked up with a confused expression, "What is happening up there? Whose room is that?"

Silvan narrowed his eyes, a tone of uncertainty in his voice, "It should be my brother's... Maybe he is just being himself," he said, though his tone suggested he knew it was more than that. He looked back at Leonidas and added, "We shouldn't pay mind to it."

"Right..." Leonidas nodded with a look of bafflement but didn't ask any more.

Half an hour later,

As Asher exited Oberon's room, he casually dusted off his hands, an eerie calmness about him.

He paused at the door, turning around with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Rest well. No need to come out until you are completely healed. Don't forget to clean your room too. I will see you tomorrow," he said, his voice light but laced with an implicit threat.

Asher felt as if he got a good workout for his arms, and Oberon was quite the reliable punching bag.

With those final words, Asher slowly closed the door behind him, leaving a scene of devastation in his wake. Inside the room, Oberon lay on the bed, a battered and bloodied figure.

His face was crushed on one side, his bones contorted into unnatural angles, and his teeth scattered around him.

His mouth was filled with blood, a clear sign of the brutal punishment he had just endured.

"T-Tomorrow?..." Oberon weakly muttered, a sense of dread washing over him.

The thought of enduring this kind of punishment every day until their return was unbearable.

The mere idea sent chills down his spine as he wondered if some malevolent soul from the seven hells had taken possession of Asher.

But suddenly, the door opened again, making Oberon's body instinctively shiver.

"I forgot about this," Asher said as he picked up the boxes of healing supplies and even his stock of blood bottles, making Oberon, who was helplessly lying on the bed, weakly raise his hand in a desperate attempt to stop him.

He wanted to cry out words, but his voice was too feeble. Without those healing supplies and his stock of blood, he wouldn't be able to completely heal in a matter of minutes. It will take hours!

"Don't worry. Within a couple of hours, your body will heal itself and regrow your teeth too. It's not like you have been starving for days," Asher said with a reassuring smile as he left.

"Mo...th...er..." Oberon's eyes teared up as he subconsciously called out for his mother, wanting her to get rid of this mad fiend and feel her comforting warmth.

This was the first time he was feeling so alone and cornered, and he realized how much he missed her.

Every time he was even slightly hurt, she would come running and pull him into her warm embrace. Just her face, no...just her gentle voice alone would suffice now to feel better.

He couldn't believe he was so pathetic enough to cry for his mother like this, but ever since that nightmare he suffered for 3 years, he felt like something wasn't the same anymore.

How many days was he going to suffer this torture alone? How many days until he can get back to his mother?

He didn't know what was worse. The nightmare he was stuck in for 3 years or this living nightmare?

Oberon lay there, trying to process the harsh reality of his situation. The pain was overwhelming, but even more daunting was the prospect of facing Asher's wrath again.

Asher took a deep breath of satisfaction as he left Oberon's room.

Some people back on Earth used to say that harboring feelings of revenge and hatred would not only make one vulnerable to demons but also consume their soul and destroy themselves in the process.

But he had to disagree with that since the satisfaction of venting these feelings on his object of revenge was sublime. Nothing else could beat that.

For more than ten years, he suffered helplessly and silently as Oberon tortured him, and now Asher felt as if he could do the same to Oberon ten times more and still have room left to satiate his thirst for revenge.

His thoughts then shifted to Naida, who had also sustained severe injuries in her fight against Boragor, and made his way to her room.

He was concerned about her well-being, particularly since she had been poisoned by Boragor's claws. The poison of a peak Soul Devourer can't be easy to shake off.

Even though she told him earlier that she would be fine on her own, he still wanted to make sure. She was also the strongest one accompanying them, and having her in top shape was a priority.

Standing outside her door, he spoke gently, "Lady Naida, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

There was no response at first, and Asher hesitated, wondering if she might be resting and whether he should leave her undisturbed.

But then, a soft, graceful voice echoed from inside the room, "Well... I don't want to inconvenience you. I will be fine in a while, my king," Her voice shivered for a brief second, making Asher realize she was still sick.

Asher's expression softened, and he replied earnestly, "Please don't think like that. Helping you out won't be an inconvenience at all, especially in your current state. So don't hesitate to ask," He felt responsible for her getting hurt and wanted to make sure she was alright.

It was understandable for someone of her status to not ask for help.

After a moment of silence, Naida let out a soft sigh, her voice still carrying that same elegance and grace, "Hai...you are too persuasive, my king. But if you insist so...Please come in," she said quietly.

Asher carefully opened the door and stepped inside, prepared to offer whatever assistance he could.