Absolute Loser Becomes The Pleasure King Using Satan System

Chapter 67: 67.Feelings That Need Rediscovery-1

The Rommar tribe was a small but famous tribe in the Marrowfields.

They were small because their numbers had been slashed to less than five thousand after the tragedy of the Great Hunting Month. Yet, they remained famous across the region due to their ancient history and deep mastery over powerful rituals.

After the Great Hunting Month, much of that sacred knowledge was lost forever, buried alongside the older generation who were slaughtered during the hunt.

The survivors of the tribe eventually settled on the outer edges of the Marrowfields, a territory granted to them as compensation for the destruction of their homes and the assaults on their people.

For twenty-one years, their small village managed to rebuild and govern itself in peace.

But that peace shattered when war broke out across the Marrowfields.

Fearing a repeat of the historical nightmares that had nearly erased them, the elders of the Rommar tribe made the desperate decision to abandon their village entirely, transforming into a migrating tribe once more.

Bequaga was the name of the man she began learning under, a warrior who soon became far more important to her than even her own parents.

She would follow him throughout the day. Doing everything he asked, taking care of his home, helping in butchering monsters, and eventually helping him in hunting.

Under his guidance, it took her only a few short months to earn her name and title:

Sin of Devotion:

Tital: Devoted One

Name: Kneeling Before Unknown

The sacred bond forged between Tritia and Bequaga not only passed down the ancient ritual knowledge of the Rommar tribe, but also honed her into a fierce, formidable hunter.

She was well on her way to becoming a true warrior for her tribe, already renowned as one of the best devotees in her age group.

That was when Pariah crossed paths with the Rommar tribe.

Arrogant and formidable, Pariah challenged many of the tribe’s strongest warriors, defeating every single one of them in fair combat.

Her master, Bequaga, fought fiercely to defend their honor, but he too was ultimately defeated.

Following ancient custom, after Bequaga’s loss, Tritia was forced into servitude, made to obey and follow Pariah’s every order.

As Tritia spent more time around Pariah, her initial resentment slowly began to fade.

He was a man of boundless enthusiasm, fascinated by everything in the world around him, whether it was discovering a new species of monster or deciphering ancient, forgotten ritualistic knowledge.

Beyond his endless curiosity, he possessed an innate talent for command.

Under his direction, hunting prey became almost effortless for Tritia.

Pariah had replaced Bequaga in her heart.

She devoted herself to him, following his orders and exchanging their knowledge.

Eventually, Pariah proposed the Matebind ritual to her.

The sudden offer shocked Tritia.

In the Rommar tribe, it was virtually unheard of for someone so young to receive a matebind proposal.

It was a dangerous ritual that needed the hearts to share a bond of attachment, devotion, trust, caring, love, balance, and equal yearning.

It carried the rist of burning ones soul.

Sharing information about such Important ritual with someone not from their own tribe, it worried her pears.

They protested, not for Tritia, but in fear of their blood mixing with outsider.

But after the village chief, Driskon, accepted a massive payment of one thousand marrows from Pariah, the tribe gave its official blessing for the ritual to proceed.

The young Tritia had wondered, with a hesitant sense of hope, what her life would be like as Pariah’s mate.

However, any lingering warmth or enthusiasm was utterly shattered when Pariah betrayed both her and the Rommar tribe. During the ceremony, he secretly altered the ancient ritual from a Matebind to a Soulbind, effectively enslaving Tritia to his will.

The tribe erupted in an uproar when the truth came out.

Chief Driskon refused to move against Pariah, terrified of the catastrophic losses the tribe would suffer in a battle against him.

After that, Pariah dragged her wherever he pleased, forcing her to commit acts she had never imagined herself capable of doing. Slowly, her independent sense of time and self dulled into nothingness. She existed only to obey his commands. Her entire purpose was defined by his needs, her actions dictated by his voice, and her only reward was receiving the next order.

So, when she awoke inside a cold cage to find only stale crumbs of food and no voice to command her, she was utterly lost.

She remained curled up in that cage, unmoving, until her primal survival instincts finally overrode her mind, driving her to bite down on a hard block of black bread.

Soon, an intense, sour stench began to fill the cave.

One day, while mindlessly picking at the bars, the cage door accidentally clicked open.

She waited inside for hours.

When no one came to punish or direct her, she finally stepped out.

Following the foul scent, Tritia wandered into the inner chamber.

There, bathed in a faint, eerie red glow, lay the corpse of Pariah, rotten and decaying.

"Hmm... Master..." she whispered into the silence, her voice trembling.

"Tell me... what should I do? Tell me..."

No response came.

Tritia closed her eyes and waited, but a sudden, terrifying sensation rattled her chest.

The sacred connection was broken.

The bond was gone.

She staggered backward until her spine slammed against the stone wall, clutching her chest as she tried to feel her own rapid heartbeat.

Hmm? Why is there no bound left?

Where did it go?

Tell me.

Someone... Please... Tell me...

A ghostly residue of the half-connection still lingered on her end, but she couldn’t sense the other side at all. It was an empty void, a ritual state she had never been taught, and one she couldn’t comprehend.

As her eyes focused on Pariah’s rotting corpse, tears spilled over her cheeks, her face twisting into a hideous mask of rage.

She let out a piercing, angry squeal, her claws digging deep into the decaying flesh as she dragged the heavy body out of the cave.

With a desperate surge of strength, she hurled it down the slope.

The moment it hit the dirt, a pack of wild doggies burst from the surrounding bushes, tearing into the remains with frantic snarls.

Startled by the violent feeding frenzy, Tritia scrambled back into the dark safety of the cave.

She spent the next few days learning how to survive entirely on her own.

She would occasionally step out to hunt, and whenever her stomach was full, she would sit in total silence, staring blankly at the ugly, pale scars wrapping around both of her wrists.

She would trace them with her fingernails, over and over, until hunger gnawed at her gut again and forced her out to stalk another vexfang.

Then came the day she saw a new silhouette standing at the mouth of the cave, the first living person she had seen in days.

A sudden jolt of enthusiasm flared in her chest.

She got excited, her breath catching in her throat.

Finally... my master is here!

But as she crept closer, the disheartening truth hit her.

She didn’t feel a single trace of a connection.

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