I Reincarnated as a Noble Bastard, So I'm Seducing All the Villainess
Chapter 53: You Don’t Have a Dick?!

Chapter 53: You Don’t Have a Dick?!

Originally, reading manhwas, mangas, comics, or even novels, you can technically see the characters in real-time, but seeing it firsthand, right before my eyes, it’s absolutely impossible to follow.

The Duke, Leonhardt, and Philomeu are three blurs zipping around the hall, letting out whizzing sounds as they move through the air that are more annoying than a mosquito’s on the ear. It’s so crazy that the golems, the remaining Libertarians, and even the guards have given up fighting, knowing that in this chaos, what matters is that one of the big shots wins to define the course of this conflict.

I confess that when one person is worth at least an entire army, it really becomes redundant to use men to fight. I keep my distance, getting involved in this fight when even being run over by one of them is enough to break my bones appears to be a wise choice.

I finally get close to Moriah, she alone should protect both of us without me having to lift a finger... considering those claws are all bloody, maybe they even ripped out hearts in the middle of this macabre waltz.

Victorian also decides to take the opportunity to reposition himself. His body is covered in wounds, I doubt this big guy can hold off the golems much longer, but he did a good job.

"Do you have any potions? A tonic, anything?", I ask Moriah, still panting, with the heat of the battle reverberating through the floor.

She doesn’t look immediately. Her eyes remain fixed on the three blurs grappling in the center of the hall, causing colossal damage to the kingdom’s treasury with every swing of a sword and punch.

"I do, but they’re for me. They’ve been adapted to my metabolism and body’s functioning."

"So they don’t work on me?"

"They’re not lethal, but also not... reliable. They serve to improve my physique, enhance my cognitions and other things, so it’s dangerous for the common human body because our biological structure is very different. There’s a risk you might suffer a rebound effect after drinking one of them. My healing potions and other similar things aren’t here either, some of the guards were equipped with my products, but that’s not enough to face those... monsters."

I look around. Victorian is still dragging himself, trying to reach a column for support. This is problematic, especially when our two most powerful allies have now started alternating, with each one facing Philomeu separately.

Leonhardt’s armor has started to show cracks, while my father’s clothes are already so torn that he wouldn’t even be seen as a noble anymore. Damn, it’s not like we’re in a situation to demand anything now!

"Even so, let me try. Maybe one of these potions will help someone."

Moriah takes a deep breath, then opens a hidden compartment inside her corset. Inside the dark leather, there are tiny vials, like small enchanted perfume tubes, tinted in various colorful shades. She pulls out an opaque blue one.

"This one does..."

There was no time to finish.

Philomeu stopped in mid-air, we were being stared at by that villain’s horrifying face. The other two tried to maintain their combat and posture, but a moment of hesitation created an opening in their defenses.

Before Moriah could hide the vial back or complete her explanation, Philomeu simply passed between Leonhardt and the Duke like a blur.

Suddenly, the son of a bitch appeared before me, only to, in the next instant, have passed by with the vial in hand.

"You... wanted to drink this?"

He held the object between his fingers and slightly lowered his sword, very interested in the thing.

"Let go of that!", Moriah shouted, putting her arm in front of me and extending her hand. "Stop now and give it back!"

What? What the hell are you talking about, you crazy woman? Talking like that, it’s obvious he’s going to drink it! That was my free buff to at least slap this guy around, and now you give this generic dialogue to screw us over?!?

"Hmmm, it seems it’s important... Perhaps it will serve me well."

Philomeu broke the seal with his teeth and poured the entire liquid down his throat at once. Gulp, gulp. Oh, we just accidentally gave the villain more strength in his final phase. Why does this only happen to me?

Philomeu wiped his mouth with his thumb, only to raise the red sword again and be ready to fight.

"Hm. Not bad. It has a strange cherry taste..."

By now, both the Duke and Leonhardt resumed their positions, stepping forward. My father clenches his fists and is the first to take a turn, but then something rather unexpected happens: Philomeu’s reaction is incredibly delayed.

Instead of dodging and moving like a ghost as before, he can barely move and is forced to parry with his blade. However, the weight of the Duke’s punches is so great that it sends him meters backward.

Did this bastard get slower, or is it just my imagination? Moriah next to me shows a smile so wide and macabre that it makes my ass clench.

"I can’t believe this man is naive enough to fall for such a cheap trick. He just drank a dose of extremely potent paralyzing poison."

"Wait, you were going to give that to me to drink?!?"

"Of course not. You drinking one of my tonics would be equally bad, so the ideal would be to throw or hit him with one of the poisons, but drinking it is just as good as applying it directly to the blood."

Damn, what a genius woman in wickedness! That’s right, Moriah, that’s why I adore you!

Now I can follow the fight firsthand, but it’s very obvious that our best fighters have worn themselves out too much in this brawl session, and even worse, the Libertarians have now resumed their wave of homicides and madness to cause as much damage as possible

There is little time left, this needs to end now... Think, Darius, what you do?

"Moriah, I need you to cover me for a bit. I’m going to infiltrate and launch a surprise attack on Philomeu. If we incapacitate him or land a fatal blow, that should stop the rest of them and maybe make them surrender."

"I will always protect you no matter what, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be by your side at all times."

I should stay calm with a killer insect beside me or not? I grip the dagger between my fingers, but let’s be honest, I’ll never land a surprise hit on Philomeu in a conventional way.

This guy is literally a stupidly strong swordsman who must have a sixth sense or something, so the essential thing is a lightning-fast incapacitating blow that doesn’t even give him time to react when it’s felt... a kick to the balls!

Perfect. I need to land this kick with everything I’ve got.

I slink through the rubble, bodies, and the legs of inert golems, most of them drained of energy or with their cores destroyed. Philomeu still stumbles to the side, his body starting to sweat as if trying to purge the poison, or resist it with some immortality cheat. Even so, he’s distracted, his eyes fixed on the Duke, who is preparing to deliver another punch. It’s now or never.

"Please, please, let this work."

I crouch behind him and spin my body and use the force of the momentum, bringing the full weight of my leg in a single, direct movement to the most sensitive zone of the male human body: between the legs, right in the balls.

BAM!

. . .

Nothing.

I know exactly the sensation a foot feels when it meets two testicles. The elastic recoil, the thud against the fabric, and the hollow sound followed by a scream. But now?

Nothing.

Just a dry cloc, as if I had hit a mannequin’s leg.

"What..."

Philomeu slowly turns his face, very slowly, with a serenity that doesn’t suit a man who just got hit squarely in the balls. His gaze drops, finding my leg still pressed against his groin.

"You seem... surprised."

"You don’t have a dick?", it escapes my mouth before I can even think. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE A DICK?!"

He raises the sword.

"I rid myself of everything superfluous to achieve combat perfection. You should do the same."

Yeah, I’m really going to kick the bucket now.

The blade descends in a straight, clean, cruel line. If I hadn’t thrown myself backward with the help of a golem carcass, my head would have rolled without a chance for a joke.

Moriah screams my name. The Duke also lunges to help me, but it’s not him who saves me.

The main character always steals the spotlight one way or another, appearing in a flash with sacred energy circulating through his body, plunging his sword into Philomeu’s abdomen. The villain doubles over, coughing, and falls to his knees for a second.

Leonhardt spins on his axis and, for the first time, strikes Philomeu with enough force to knock him down. The hall vibrates, and the protagonist assumes that classic hero pose from visual media, perfectly suited for closing the first part of a work.

The villain doesn’t move much, which on its own makes me collapse to the floor, terrified. Holy shit, that worked.

Moriah rushes to me and grabs me by the collar, pulling my face close to hers.

"Don’t you ever try to use your precious body to kick a freak in the crotch again, got it?!"

"He doesn’t have a dick, Moriah! He doesn’t have a dick!"

She gives me a soft pat on the cheek. "I know. It’s the least to be expected from someone like him."

It worked.

Leonhardt evokes divine powers and creates a containment chamber around Philomeu, but by this point, he must be unconscious or, at worst, dead. Now, all that’s left is the boring part: the remaining golems and soldiers. At least the hard part is over, and... man, how did that even work?