Little Pink Starfish

The beastmen’s fortress-like hideout, the Rocky Citadel, was riddled with tunnels, its interconnected passageways resembling an ant’s nest. Asher had no idea how many turns he had taken—it felt like wandering through a maze. After walking for what seemed like forever, they reached a vast hall. The moment they stepped inside, the lively chatter of the beastmen ceased, and the room fell into silence.

“Barf! Gallan! Leor! Where the hell have you been…? Wait—what!?” A bear beastman called out in shock before his gaze locked onto Asher and Theodore. “That’s…!”

“The Third Prince,” the massive bear beastman, Art, confirmed grimly. “Barf and his lot executed the kidnapping plan without orders.”

The beastmen erupted in shouts of disbelief. “This can’t be! We weren’t supposed to act yet! What the hell have you done!? We were still gathering information—”

A slightly smaller bear beastman, likely a female based on her voice, shouted furiously. Barf and the others turned to her with irritation. “Gathering information? Don’t give me that crap. You were wasting time. We got him, didn’t we? No problem there.”

“You idiot! You heard the latest reports too, didn’t you!? The recent investigations on the Third Prince—”

“Enough.”

Art’s quiet command silenced the entire hall. Even though it was spoken softly, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Asher could do nothing but watch in a daze. Theodore stood protectively in front of him, though his body was visibly swaying.

“…Theo…dore…” His voice, choked with fear, barely came out. At the sound of his name, Theodore turned to him briefly. “…Your Highness, please stay calm… Just stay by my side.”

But how could he possibly stay calm? His bound hands trembled, and Theodore gently touched them. “Your Highness, do nothing… Just think of yourself.”

“Enough talking.”

The chains attached to Theodore’s shackles were yanked harshly. He was forcibly dragged away from Asher, losing his balance. Gallan, who held the chains, grinned wickedly. “Are you seriously worried about the prince right now? You’re a fool… You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. Everyone’s gonna love this—a stuck-up ‘Black Knight’ being tortured? It’s a rare sight!”

“Gallan, what are you—!? You mean to tell me you brought the Black Knight as well!? You failed! The whole plan was to kidnap the prince without being noticed! We worked so hard to get access to the secret passages only the royal family knew about, and now—”

“That’s why I brought him! To eliminate all traces! We’ll kill him here! I’ve been holding back for that reason!”

“And Matilda, who do you think you are!? Just because you’re the leader’s mate doesn’t mean you get to order me around!”

“What did you say!? Art has nothing to do with this! And he would never allow torture, would you, Art!?”

Matilda turned to the massive bear beastman, her voice filled with urgency. But Art simply stared at Theodore in silence.

“…Art?”

“Matilda, just listen.” Barf’s tail flicked lazily as he spoke. “That Black Knight, Theodore—he’s the one who killed Gallan’s brother.”

Matilda’s eyes widened in shock. “What!?”

“It’s true. I saw it with my own eyes.” The room filled with murmurs, beastmen exchanging glances. One by one, their sharp eyes focused on Theodore, glowing with hatred.

“Besides, the original plan was to kill the Third Prince too. There’s no issue with killing the knight first.”

“The situation has changed!” Matilda shouted. “The prince is not to be killed! And Theodore—he’s Dias’ hero! He gained recognition in the recent war against Murofsa! If we kill him—”

“So what?” Barf sneered. “He slaughtered plenty of beastmen slaves in Murofsa, too. Not that those mindless weaklings matter. But leader… don’t you think Gallan deserves something?”

Art turned to Gallan, who was gripping the chains tightly, baring his fangs. “…Fine. But don’t kill him.”

That was the signal.

The hall erupted in cheers. The beastmen roared in excitement, shaking the very walls. Theodore was dragged toward the central pillar, his chains secured. Beastmen gathered around in a frenzy. Asher, meanwhile, was forcibly pulled by Barf, positioned where he had a clear view of Theodore and Gallan.

“Too bad, huh?” Barf whispered mockingly into Asher’s ear. “Seems like the leader’s woman won’t let me have fun with you. Lucky for you, he’s here to take your place.”

A shiver ran down Asher’s spine. “You know what we do when we capture helpless humans who can’t fight back?” Barf’s lips curled as he pressed his cheek against Asher’s. “We rip their limbs apart.“

A wild cheer erupted. Asher’s head snapped toward the center just in time to see Gallan punch Theodore, sending him flying. Theodore, already beaten and restrained, was no match for another brutal blow.

He’ll die like this.

“Stop! Please!” Asher cried. “Please, stop!”

“Look around, prince.” The beastmen’s eyes gleamed with bloodlust. “Reason doesn’t matter. We beastmen love the scent of blood.”

Gallan extended his claws toward Theodore’s arm. His nails gleamed as they sliced deep into Theodore’s flesh.

“…Ghh!”

In an instant, Theodore retaliated. Despite his injuries, he kicked Gallan hard in the stomach. The unexpected counterattack sent Gallan sprawling backward. Blood dripped from Theodore’s arm, the deep gashes soaking his sleeve in red.

“You little bastard!! I’ll tear that arm off!!”

Gallan roared, preparing to strike again—

But before he could—

Asher bit down on Barf’s arm and ran.

“STOP IT!!”

His voice echoed through the hall. All eyes turned toward him. Even Gallan froze, claws raised mid-air.

“Stop hurting Theodore… Stop hurting my knight!“

What was he doing? Even Asher himself had no idea. But his mouth wouldn’t stop moving.

“Theodore only killed your brother because you attacked us first! He was defending me! He had no choice!“

“Your Highness, step back!” Theodore shouted desperately.

“Be quiet, Theodore!”

Gallan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Shut up. That doesn’t change the fact that my brother is dead.” His lips curled into a twisted grin. He licked the blood on his cheek—the very blood Theodore had spilled.

A chill ran down Asher’s spine. He recognized that expression. This wasn’t about revenge.

He doesn’t care about his brother.
He just wants to hurt someone.

It was the same look Asher had seen in his past life. The same face his bullies had made.

Terrifying.
Terrifying.

And yet—why wasn’t he running?

“Theodore killed your brother because he was protecting me.” His body should have been trembling in fear. He should have run. But he didn’t. Because—he had to save Theodore.

“Then it’s my fault,” Asher declared.

A sharp crack filled the air. His vision went white. The next thing he knew—pain exploded across his cheek. The force sent him flying.

Blood gushed from his nose. “You’re right,” Gallan sneered. “The real enemy is royalty.“

The hall fell silent. “Asher didn’t kill your brother!” Theodore shouted desperately. “I did! Punish me, not him!“

“Art! Stop this!” Matilda pleaded. “We already kidnapped him! If he’s injured, we’ll definitely start a war!”

But Art remained silent.

Asher struggled to lift his head. Blood dripped down his face. “…They say… I loved whipping beastmen…” His voice trembled. “Now it’s your turn.”

Gallan grinned wickedly. “Oh? So you’re saying you deserve this?” His eyes gleamed with amusement as he grabbed Asher roughly by the arm and dragged him forward. The surrounding beastmen erupted in laughter, cheering as they watched.

With a hard yank, Gallan pulled Asher toward a thick stone pillar separate from where Theodore was bound. His arms were twisted behind him, secured tightly with rough rope. The moment his body was forced against the pillar, Asher understood—he was about to be whipped.

“Hey, Art,” Gallan called out mockingly. “The Third Prince seems to have a guilty conscience. He thinks he needs to atone for what he’s done.” He sneered down at Asher. “So, should we grant his wish?”

Art watched in silence, his piercing gaze locked onto Asher. After a long moment, he exhaled. “Fine. But don’t kill him.”

That was all the permission Gallan needed. With a twisted grin, he reached for a coiled whip hanging from the belt of another beastman. The leather was worn, darkened from use.

“You know,” Gallan mused, unwinding the whip, “I heard you loved whipping beastmen. It was your favorite thing to do, right? Now you finally get to know how it feels.”

Asher’s breath caught in his throat. His body trembled, not from the cold, but from the raw fear flooding his senses.

“Wait! Stop!” Matilda’s voice rang out as she pushed forward. “This is insane! We cannot harm the prince! We’ve already kidnapped him—if we so much as leave a mark on him, we’ll be inviting an all-out war!”

“Step back, Matilda,” Art warned. “This is the Third Prince of Dias we’re talking about. The man who’s tormented beastmen for years. Do you think the ones here will forgive him so easily?”

“But—!”

The argument was cut short by the sharp crack of the whip slicing through the air.

A moment later, fiery pain exploded across Asher’s back.

A strangled cry ripped from his throat as his body arched against the pillar.

The pain was unbearable. His skin burned as if set ablaze, and the impact sent tremors through his entire body.

“Stop it!!” Theodore’s voice was hoarse with desperation as he struggled violently against his chains. “You bastards, stop!! If you have to punish someone, punish me!“

But Gallan ignored him. Another snap of the whip echoed through the hall, followed by another sharp lash against Asher’s back.

“AHH—!” Asher couldn’t hold back his scream.

The world around him blurred. His vision swam from the overwhelming pain, but still, the whip didn’t stop.

The beastmen’s cheers grew louder, their bloodlust ignited. They shouted for more, urging Gallan on.

The third strike came. The fourth.

Asher gasped, his breath shuddering. The agony consumed him, stealing his ability to think.

Then, just as the fifth strike was about to land—

“That’s ENOUGH!”

The roar cut through the chaos like a blade.

Art had spoken.

His deep, commanding voice instantly silenced the hall.

Gallan, panting slightly from the exertion, scowled. “What? That’s it? After only four?”

Art’s sharp eyes narrowed. “I said don’t kill him. Any more, and he won’t last.”

With clear reluctance, Gallan clicked his tongue and lowered the whip.

Asher’s body sagged against the pillar. He could barely breathe. His back throbbed with each ragged inhale, searing pain radiating through him. His clothes were torn, sticking to his skin where blood had begun to seep through.

He dimly heard Theodore still struggling against his restraints. “Damn you all… damn you…” his voice was shaking with fury.

“Untie him,” Art ordered. “Throw him in a cell.”

Rough hands yanked Asher away from the pillar, his bound arms sending sharp jolts of pain through his shoulders. His legs nearly gave out, but someone grabbed him before he collapsed.

“Don’t think this is over, Prince,” Gallan whispered, his breath hot against Asher’s ear. “This was just the beginning.”

Asher didn’t have the strength to respond.

The only thing he could do was let the darkness take him as he was dragged away.

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Pinky says: Kinky.