Lancelot, the Traitor

Well, I already know that today must come...

I take a look at myself, pinned to the wall. The chains are all tangled together. When I turn to look to my left and right, I see torture devices—this is not a good vision!

The person who crucified me on the cross has a youthful face that appears to be younger than his age. He also has a horsewhip in his hand, and certainly, he is King Arthur...Urius.

“Um, in fact, your appearance suits holding a horsewhip...” I remark to him. It is a bit of a contrast to see a man of pure appearance wielding an extreme sadism tool like this.

If you put on your glasses, I am sure you will turn into a dictatorial S guy.

In response to my compliment, Urius smiles and says, “Thank you.”

From what I can tell, this indie king is not coming to whip me or anything like that because it is pointless, so I am not scared.

But I am also curious as to why he brought me here to perform this pinned-slave drama.

“I'll take you back to Salzaal.”

What!