33. The Shocking Finale 2

Charlotte flinched for a moment at Spica’s momentum. But ashamed of showing weakness to the black slave, she immediately charged at her and unleashed a rapid series of punches and kicks. Her strikes were full-power, one-hit-kill techniques she had learned from the Empire’s martial arts master. She had always believed that even a strong man would fall in a single blow.

But Spica twisted her body to dodge every strike and used capoeira’s signature side-spin to evade them all. Even a feint from the left and right combination was effortlessly blocked, as if Spica could read her mind.

(Aah, it’s not hitting… Why…?)

Panicking, Charlotte switched to a full-power kick aimed at her side instead of the small target of her head. But Spica squatted and used a back-flip technique unique to her—monkey-like acrobatics—and dodged effortlessly.

(Damn it… My own techniques don’t work against this black slave…)

Charlotte’s breathing gradually grew ragged.

“My, Your Highness, are you serious? Then I’ll show you something now.”

Byuun! A sharp, heavy thrust—sharper and heavier than anything before—attacked Charlotte. She raised both arms desperately to block, but the arm she received the hit on went numb and refused to move for a moment.

(Why can this slave girl’s thrust be so strong? It’s beyond the level of the Empire’s martial arts master. What is she…?!)

Charlotte did not know. One day in the past, a black-haired slave girl had secretly practiced her fighting arts in the royal garden at night while Charlotte slept soundly in her luxurious canopy bed. That girl had been the one who, in return for all the humiliations Charlotte had inflicted on her, now stood before her.

When Charlotte, unable to withstand the thrust, tried to counter, Spica’s spinning kick slammed into her side with a loud gak!

“Gaa—!!”

Charlotte dropped to her knees on the floor and curled into a ball.

“Uuu…”

“Look, stand up. Is this your real strength? Is kneeling before the black slave the princess’s pride?”

Spica taunted her.

“Still… not yet.”

Charlotte threw left jabs and a full-power right straight, but Spica only laughed through her nose and effortlessly blocked them with nothing more than a gentle upper-body wave. Then she launched a sharp kick to the jaw—a capoeira queixada.

(It’s dangerous! If I take that kick, I’m finished!)

Charlotte twisted her upper body desperately to dodge the queixada. But Spica’s real target had been her lower body. Using a technique called hasteira—hook and sweep—Charlotte was pulled off her feet and slammed to the ground.

Spica immediately jumped in and pinned both of Charlotte’s hands, then delivered a headbutt—kabe-sada—right into her face.

Gan! A dull thud echoed.

“Gu—!!”

The impact was so close to a concussion that Charlotte’s vision spun for a second. But her instinctive survival instinct saved her, and she rolled away at the last moment.

“Fufu, running away won’t help. Can you read my foot techniques?”

She was now attacked by endless left and right low kicks that scattered like leaves in the wind—moku no ha kei—like dancing leaves. Each one landed with devastating force.

Charlotte felt overwhelming pain all over her body. Her breathing stopped. She could only groan on the spot. She instinctively understood this was a fatal blow.

“Foot techniques, you say? Watch closely. A little lesson for you, Your Highness.”

“Uuuhhh…”

Charlotte, unable to withstand the countless strikes, curled into a ball on the cold tiled floor.

“My, you’ve given up already? But if I let you finish it this easily, it would be boring. Come on, stand up!”

Spica crouched and grabbed Charlotte’s long, silky honey-blonde hair, then yanked her up without mercy.

“It hurts! It hurts! Stop!”

Charlotte screamed as the pain in her scalp made her knees buckle.

“Fufu, I won’t stop. Hyaaa!”

With a shout, she delivered a heavy hammer kick—martero—straight into Charlotte’s soft lower abdomen.

Dosu!

“Guuuu—!!”

The light of battle vanished from Charlotte’s amber eyes. Trembling, she staggered backward as Spica unleashed a full-power spinning back kick—armada—into her spine.

Don! Charlotte was blasted straight into the wall, leaving her half-conscious.

“Look, doesn’t it hurt when the princess is beaten like this by a slave? Come on!”

Spica waved her hand in a taunting gesture. With her last reserves of strength, Charlotte forced herself to stand. At that moment, Spica’s ultimate technique exploded forward—bensaô.

Zudoo!

Spica’s toes, screaming with killing intent, drove deep into Charlotte’s soft lower abdomen. Charlotte’s body lifted a few centimeters off the ground.

“Guoo—!! …Guhuu…”

Slowly, she knelt, collapsing forward. Bensaô meant “thanks” in Portuguese. It was named because the person kicked in the stomach was forced to bow in gratitude.

Right now she was in the most humiliating pose imaginable. Her beautiful golden hair scraped against the floor as her whole body convulsed.

“Uoooo—!! I won! I beat the princess! I won—!!”

Spica thrust both fists into the air and roared in victory. The slave girl’s undisputed victory over the proud imperial family’s martial arts.

“Look, raise your face.”

Spica grabbed Charlotte’s golden hair and forced her into an upright position, staring into the defeated eyes of the golden-haired princess with her own black-crystal gaze.

“Even though you were once my master, I was going to leave at least one hope for you. But I changed my mind. I’ll crush your final wish right here and now.”

With that, Spica flipped Charlotte’s body around.

“Kyaa—!! What are you—?!”

Her face was pressed to the floor, ass raised high. This was the manngurimari pose. Spica pinned both of Charlotte’s hands down with her feet. Now Charlotte could not move at all.

“Charlotte, do you understand what this is?”

Spica pulled out a small stick.

“In Master Kakuda’s world, magic called ‘science’ had developed. My friend, the alchemist, mixed a pregnancy test using that science magic.”

Spica forcibly spread Charlotte’s outer labia and pressed the tiny pregnancy test stick against her narrow urethra.

“Aaah… What are you doing?”

Charlotte, trembling like a little girl, begged.

“Your arrogance comes from being an imperial princess knight. But can you still call yourself a princess even if you’re pregnant and fat? I’ll crush that fantasy right here!”

Zubu!

Spica pushed the stick all the way into her urethra without hesitation.

“Giii—!! It hurts!”

“Endure it. I’ll make it clear black or white.”

Spica twisted and rubbed the stick against the urethral wall.

“Kiiiiii—!! It hurts! Stop! My pee hole hurts! It hurts! My pee hole is no good! Aaaah… Please stop—!!”

Ignoring the princess’s desperate pleas, Spica twisted the stick deep inside her urethra for a full twelve seconds before finally pulling it out.

“If it turns blue, you’re definitely pregnant.”

The urine touched by the air instantly turned bright blue.

“N-No… That’s… impossible…!”

The slave girl Spica smiled like a demon.

“Congratulations, Master. You are now pregnant with the worthless seed of some unknown lowly man, and you’ll be fat and bloated.”

“Nooooooo—!!!”

A scream of despair that split space itself echoed through the dungeon.

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