Chapter 5 natural enemy

"Hm, why is there a tiny face of me on your left chest?" Roy questioned with a tone of curiosity and surprise, touching Camila's nipple. The small portrait looked like a Chibi version of Roy, with his short black hair, dark brown eyes, and a captivating smile on his face.

"This is the mark that all women get when they become part of the harem," explained Camila, her voice sounding mysterious and intriguing.

Roy's surprise grew even more. "So, every woman I sleep with will get this mark? And will all of them be on the breasts?" he asked, while making a gesture to poke the image on her chest.

"Stop poking my chest!" Camila reprimanded, maintaining her patience. "It's not like that. Even if you sleep with a woman, it won't have an effect. She won't gain your mark nor a class," she explained, pulling up her bra that was casually discarded on the floor.

"Look what you did, my bra is dirty now. I'll have to wash it," she lamented, pointing to the now stained bra. She then noticed Roy's underwear on the floor, covered in dirt. "Your underwear is on the floor too, all dirty with soil. You need to be more careful," Camila scolded. After putting on her bra, she grabbed Roy's underwear and started to shake the fabric, trying to remove the dirt.

"I was going to clean," protested Roy, but soon returned to the main topic. "But back to the point, so the woman I sleep with won't gain a class or my mark? I thought you said that every harem king can grant classes," questioned Roy, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"You have to conquer the woman, make her fall in love with you, like me, I love you, just like you love me. If you don't love the woman, even if you have sexual intercourse with her, she won't be part of your harem." Camila pronounced these words with singular depth, while putting on her shirt with a slowness that seemed deliberate.

"Complicated, but I like it. Now I know that the women who are going to sleep with me, are going to be the women who like me, and I like them." Roy replied, his words floating in the air as he put on his pants with a thoughtful expression.

"Don't you feel bad? I know you want me to get revenge on the guy who ruined your father's life, but are you okay with this?" Roy's voice had a soft tone, almost inaudible, the words came out like a breeze but carried with them the weight of a storm.

"Well... No, but I know very well what would happen if I brought you into this world, because of this I'm fine, don't think too much. My love for you hasn't changed, I hope yours for me doesn't change when you meet new women." Camila spoke, her tone of voice was bittersweet, mixing the sadness of reality with the sweetness of hope. She finished tidying up her things, fixing her messy hair. It was still messy, but now there was a kind of order in the disorder.

"Don't doubt my love for you, you saw very well that I gave up everything to be with you, even though I thought you were crazy, but I know very well the wonderful woman, the amazing! The goddess of-" Roy's passionate words were interrupted when his mouth was silenced by Camila's finger.

"I got it that you love me, but stop flattering so much, speaking of which, love, why do you always flatter people? I never understood, since the day I met you, you always flatter someone when you meet them." Camila's words floated through the forest.

"Ah, hahaha, it's always been a habit of mine," Roy confessed, scratching his neck in a characteristic gesture. "I can't explain it, but flattering someone always made me feel closer to the person in question."

Camila, listening attentively, furrowed her brows before commenting. "It's a peculiar way to get to know someone, Roy." And, with a worried look at the darkening sky, she quickened her pace. "Let's go to my house, it's getting dark. I prefer not to stay in this forest. At night, demonic beasts often appear." She then started to walk towards a road that led to a mansion - her home.

Roy, surprised, raised an eyebrow. "Demonic beasts too? It seems like I ended up entering a fantasy world." He paused, thinking. "Speaking of which, if I speak to the people of this world, will they understand me?" He asked, walking beside Camila and holding her hand.

Camila simply smiled, reassuring him. "Your words will be automatically translated. No matter the race you talk to, they will understand you, just as you will understand them."

There was a moment of silence. Then, Roy asked an intimate question. "You won't get pregnant from having my semen inside you? I mean, today isn't a safe day, right?"

Camila laughed, shaking her head. "Your semen turned into energy for me. Thanks for the meal," she said, smiling at him.

After a few minutes walking side by side down the road, Roy and Camila found themselves at the point where the mansion, majestic and imposing, comes into view. Roy's eyes sparkle with surprise and admiration, and he turns to Camila with a smile of disbelief and enchantment.

"I didn't expect you to be so rich, Camila," he says, his voice tinged with a note of surprise. "Am I dating a noble? Am I in the presence of a true aristocrat?"

Camila, with a playful smile on her lips, looks at him with a spark of amusement in her eyes. "Yes," she asserts, the word coming from her lips with a hint of pride and satisfaction. "So kneel and kiss my feet, love! This is an honor for you!"

Stopping where they are, she raises a foot, the sneaker she wears appropriately contrasting with the unfolding scene. It is a gesture suggesting what she desires, an insinuation that reveals a challenging invitation.

Roy, in turn, plays the game in the same spirit. "Oh, my nobility! Envy of the morning goddess!" He exclaims, casting her a look of feigned devotion. "Unique and powerful woman, are you asking this humble servant to kiss your feet? Feet so beautiful and, despite being covered by sneakers, I presume they smell like foot odor."

He says this with a playful smile on his lips, the shared joke between them, lighting the path they tread together.

"Your nose is having problems, my feet don't stink!" Camila's voice echoed in the air, rich in indignation and a touch of humor. She gave him a quick, yet determined pinch on Roy's ribs, her eyes shining with a silent challenge. She felt the heat rising up her neck, staining her skin a vivid red, an automatic reaction to Roy's audacious provocation.

"I won't play with you anymore, you offend me more than amuse me." Camila announced, her voice trembling slightly with the emotion she tried to hide. It was a lie, of course - a lie as clear as crystal - but she wanted to see that sorry look on Roy's face. She wanted him to feel at least a bit of the disturbance she was feeling. But deep down, she knew that it probably wouldn't happen.

"Oh my goddess, don't say that," Roy retorted, his playful tone cutting through the tense air. "You know well that I'm lying about your feet. They are so fragrant that I bet all my parents' fortune that millions - no, billions - of people would give everything to smell near them."

His words, though absurd, were spoken with such fervent conviction that for a moment they almost seemed true. The playful smile on Roy's face did not fade at any point, only widening in response to Camila's shocked expression.

He noticed the blush on Camila's face deepen, her beautiful blue eyes staring at him intensely, as if begging, pleading for him to stop talking nonsense. But there was no anger there, just a kind of amused resignation, and a faint glimmer of pleasure that said more than any word could express.

"Miss Camila?" The voice that interrupted Roy and Camila's conversation was deep, unexpectedly feminine, and in a way, devoid of tangible emotion. The statement caught the two completely off guard. They were so immersed in their own world that they barely noticed that they had arrived at the imposing mansion and that a presence was there, waiting.

"Marta, yes, it's me," Camila's voice contained undeniable warmth, a pure joy that opposed the monotonous tone of the other. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? I missed you so much." The figure approaching was a family maid, but to Camila, she was much more. Marta was a maternal figure, a constant rock during her childhood. Camila threw herself into a hug, wrapping around Marta's waist. However, due to the orc woman's size, Camila's hug barely reached half of her body.

Roy, on the other hand, watched Marta with a look of surprise and appreciation. She was an orc, measuring a little over two meters, with a skin of a soft green that contrasted with her long black hair. Her eyes were an intense, almost supernatural purple, fixed on him. Roy noticed that, although Marta was hugging Camila, her face remained impassive, showing no emotion. It was as if she was there, but at the same time, she wasn't.

"I missed you too," Marta replied, her voice as neutral as ever, as if devoid of any emotion. It was a tone that strangely contrasted with Camila's joy. Marta's impassive gaze never left Roy, but there was no curiosity there. She just looked, as if observing and nothing more.

"Hello, beautiful woman!" Roy began, a smile on his face and a hint of admiration in his eyes. He noticed the affection his girlfriend had for Marta, the maid, who seemed more like a maternal figure to her, or at least a very beloved figure. "I see my girlfriend likes you a lot. From the way she looks at you, I believe she sees you as a maternal figure, or at least very beloved."

Roy continued, his tone of voice revealing a hint of envy that was only mitigated by Marta's extraordinary beauty. "I would be jealous if it weren't for your magnificent beauty, that your mere presence calms my troubled soul."

He then introduced himself with a warm greeting, "Nice to meet you, my name is Roy." He didn't offer a bow, as Marta's work attire suggested she wouldn't be accustomed to such formality. To put her at ease, he flattered her a bit. Most of the time, he noticed, people loosen up when they are complimented.

However, little did he know that Camila was watching the scene with a smile on her face, holding back laughter. How could she forget Marta's unchanged expression, her maid and motherly figure, who never showed emotion? Camila had no idea if Marta was capable of expressing feelings, as she had never seen an expression on her face other than the empty one. Marta's voice was always emotionless.

Yet, Camila felt a secret joy, knowing she was about to witness her boyfriend's defeat at the hands of Marta, Roy's natural enemy.

"Pleasure," declared Marta, her voice as devoid of emotion as a blank sheet of paper. The words floated over to Roy, but didn't carry the slightest shadow of joy or appreciation for the words he had so carefully chosen. "Pleasure..?" Roy echoed, a wrinkle of confusion marking his forehead. Did she not like what he said? No, that couldn't be! Perhaps Marta was more of the simple type, preferring direct actions and honest words rather than the fancy phrases he had uttered.

Roy's eyes carefully studied Marta's emotionless face, as if it was a puzzle waiting to be solved. Maybe she was annoyed, but had an incredible ability to hide her anger. Marta's expression remained unchanged, no traces of disdain or repulsion. Even if it was a disgusted expression, he wouldn't mind. But the total lack of emotion was starting to bother him, like a song that ends abruptly. Or perhaps because the technique he took such pride in to understand people seemed to have failed miserably. One thing he knew: he longed to see some sign of emotion on her face, any at all.

"Miss, she asks for your presence," Marta announced, her voice still maintaining that monotonous, emotionless quality. She gently extricated herself from Camila's embrace, moving with a restrained grace to stand beside her. She seemed more like a shadow than a person, a perfectly trained personal maid, patiently waiting for Camila to take the first step so she could follow closely behind.