Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 26

Chapter 26

 

On a languid afternoon, Cecil visited the training grounds as usual. He was about to start his training after a light warm-up when Rocco’s weary face caught his attention.

“What’s wrong? And what happened to your lips?”

“…It’s nothing.”

Rocco’s lips were cracked and peeling, with scabs forming in places. Without saying a word, he rubbed his lips as if trying to hide the wounds.

“Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then.”

Cecil didn’t pry further and simply gripped his wooden sword.

If Rocco said he was fine, there was no need to meddle. Cecil had never been one to take interest in others, except for Alexis.

Yet, lately, he couldn’t help but notice Rocco’s deepening melancholy, his sluggish movements, and, worst of all, the bruises peeking out from beneath his long sleeves.

‘Is he getting beaten up?’

Among the apprentice knights, Rocco was particularly frail. He was short and mild-mannered, hardly the ideal fit for a knight. Still, his determination had always seemed unwavering, so Cecil assumed he was managing well.

But once the suspicion took root, everything started falling into place.

After training, Cecil approached the waiting chamberlain outside.

“Leo, bring me a bottle of malt whiskey. The best one available.”

“Huh? Whiskey? But didn’t you say you weren’t drinking anymore?”

“It’s not for me… Just hurry and get it.”

Unable to resist Cecil’s insistence, Leo rushed off to Peridot Palace. He returned clutching an expensive bottle of whiskey, though his face was still full of doubt.

“There, you got the right one. Wait here for a bit.”

Cecil swiftly grabbed the bottle, satisfaction evident in his smile. Without hesitation, he made his way to the apprentice knights’ quarters at the back of the training grounds.

He planned to give this whiskey to Rocco.

It was a high-end liquor not easily obtainable, so the other knights would undoubtedly flock to him, trying to score a drink. If Cecil handed it over in front of everyone, they would see Rocco as someone close to him and think twice before mistreating him.

It was a perfect plan. The thought alone kept the smile on Cecil’s lips. He didn’t mind the effort—it was only fair to repay Rocco for the help he had given him.

Cecil flung the door open without knocking. Loud laughter and crude curses filled the air the moment he stepped inside. With training over, the knights seemed fully at ease.

The room was filled with the sour smell of sweat. Cecil wrinkled his nose and covered it with a fist as he walked in.

“Gah! Lord Cecil! What brings you to this shabby place…?”

The apprentice knights scrambled to straighten their clothes at the sight of him.

As always, they had stripped off their gear after training, and now, they hurriedly covered themselves.

Cecil glanced at them with indifference. No matter how well-built their bodies were, to him, they were nothing more than lumps of flesh. But the face he was looking for was nowhere in sight. He singled out one of the apprentices standing nearby.

“You, over there. Do you know where Rocco is?”

“Ah… Do you mean Rocco Maxwell?”

At that moment, the knights exchanged meaningful glances. Some of them even cast wary looks toward a secluded part of the quarters.

“……”

“……”

Cecil instantly caught onto the suspicious atmosphere. Certain they were hiding something, he shoved aside the knight blocking his path.

“W-Wait a moment!”

Without hesitation, Cecil strode deeper into the quarters. He didn’t care that the place was filthy and rough—he had no reason to hesitate.

As he walked down the narrow hallway, he arrived at what appeared to be a changing room. In front of it, apprentice knights, dressed similarly to the ones he had seen earlier—half-naked—were leaning against the walls, snickering.

That wasn’t all. Their trousers were wide open, their dark, swollen genitals exposed as they shamelessly fondled themselves. It was a sight that could never be mistaken for a normal moment of rest.

“Gasp! L-Lord Cecil!”

The moment they spotted Cecil, they hurriedly shoved their hands away, scrambling to cover themselves. While they were still in a frantic mess of adjusting their clothes, Cecil abruptly shoved the wooden door open and stepped inside.

Inside the dimly lit changing room, three figures were tangled together as if they were one. Cecil froze in place, his body stiffening as if he had just witnessed a terrible secret he should never have seen.

“Mmgh, ugh, kgh, agh!”

“Not sucking properly, huh? How do you expect me to finish like this?”

“Shit, this bastard’s throat is so tight it’s choking me down here too. Hey, shove it in deeper.”

“Rocco, you better put in more effort. There’s a long line waiting behind us.”

Unlike the men who were laughing among themselves, Rocco was down on all fours, weeping like a beaten dog. His mouth was forced open to its limit, and the gap between his legs was stuffed with an obscenely large organ—more like a grotesque weapon than anything else. The twisted expression on Rocco’s face made it painfully clear that this was no act of consent.

“You filthy bastards.”

Cecil gritted his teeth so hard they ached. His fury burned so fiercely that his vision turned red. Even the hand clutching the bottle of liquor trembled violently.

The knights, lost in their depravity, belatedly noticed his presence, but before they could react, Cecil moved first.

He strode forward and smashed the liquor bottle over the head of the knight shoving his cock into Rocco’s mouth.

CRACK!

A sharp shattering sound rang out as the heavy glass shattered into pieces. The knight’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed onto the floor. The strong scent of oak-aged liquor immediately filled the air, overwhelming the musty stench of the room.

Cecil clenched the jagged neck of the broken bottle and twisted his upper body.

The second knight, who had been violating Rocco, stumbled backward in a panic, frantically pulling up his trousers.

“You must have a death wish. How dare you call yourselves imperial knights while committing rape inside the imperial palace?”

“I-It’s not what it looks like! You’re mistaken!”

“Oh? Then are you saying my eyes are deceiving me?”

Cecil’s fury was as cold and sharp as the winter sea. Every word he spat out, pressed down with restrained rage, froze the knights in place.

The disgusting stench of semen made him sick to his stomach. As he looked at Rocco, images of his own past, memories he desperately wanted to forget, began to resurface.

‘You think you can get away with just handing over imperial secrets?’

‘We’re talking about killing the woman the Crown Prince of Verka cherishes most… You’ll need to put in more effort.’

‘Get on your knees and crawl between my legs. If you suck me off with that pretty mouth of yours, I might consider it.’

Cecil swallowed down the bile rising in his throat and forced those horrifying memories out of his mind. He clenched his fists tightly and turned his gaze toward Rocco, who was still curled up on the floor.

“Get up. Fix your clothes.”

“……”

“Did you not hear me? I said get up!”

Rocco, who had been huddled like a sinner, trembled violently and slowly raised his knees. He hadn’t even wiped his tears as he scrambled to pick up his scattered clothes.

Cecil could no longer stand being in this filthy, stinking room. He turned on his heel and walked out. The apprentice knights in the hallway immediately parted like the Red Sea to clear his path.

Without stopping, Cecil marched away from the dormitory. His bloodshot eyes searched for Claude. He soon spotted the man talking with the vice commander.

“I need to talk.”

Claude and the vice commander looked at him in confusion as he suddenly cut into their conversation. They were shocked once at the furious expression on his face and then again when they noticed the broken bottle neck still clenched in his hand.

“What in the world… happened?”

“Did you know?”

“Know what, exactly?”

“That Rocco Maxwell has been sexually assaulted by the knights.”

Claude’s eyes narrowed. He clearly found the claim hard to believe.

“Did you witness it yourself?”

“You think I’m making this up?”

Cecil tossed the broken bottle onto the ground. With a loud crash, the remaining shards of glass shattered further, scattering across the floor.

“How can a so-called knight commander not even know what his own men are doing?”

“Please, calm down and explain the situation,”

“Don’t touch me! How dare you lay your filthy hands on me?”

At the harsh warning, Claude retracted the hand he had instinctively reached out, instead rubbing his temples with a sigh. He braced his hands on his waist, exhaling slowly as he realized there was no way to calm Cecil in his current state.

“I will investigate this matter thoroughly. However, as commander, this is my responsibility to handle. You should… take a step back and let me deal with it.”

“Handle it properly.”

“I will.”

Cecil glared at Claude one last time before turning away. The vice commander, glancing at the mess left behind, clicked his tongue in disapproval. He then subtly nudged a few shards of glass aside with the tip of his boot.

“Howard, do you know anything about this?”

“This is my first time hearing about it. But… Maxwell has seemed a bit down lately.”

“I need to see for myself.”

Claude clenched his jaw and immediately set off toward the knights’ dormitory. He had to find out exactly which bastards had disgraced the knight order’s name.

Meanwhile, Cecil returned to the Peridot Palace and sank into a bath.

He dismissed all the attendants and washed himself. He scrubbed so harshly that his skin stung, yet he kept going—rubbing, scrubbing, as if trying to erase something far deeper than just dirt.

“Lord Cecil… Are you alright?”

Two hours had passed. When no sound came from inside, concerned voices called out, but the man submerged in the bathtub remained silent.

Time ticked on. The water had long since gone cold, and his entire body trembled from the chill. Finally, Cecil leaned his head back and forced himself to speak.

“Leo, are you there?”

“Yes, Lord Cecil. What do you need?”

“I’m not feeling well. I’m going to bed early.”

“Shall I summon the court physician?”

“No. Just bring me some sleeping pills.”

Cecil slowly rubbed his wet face. His mind was far too loud—so loud that he needed to force himself into sleep.

“And about Saint Palace…”

“Will you not be going?”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll send someone to inform them.”

A long, weary sigh escaped Cecil’s lips.

“No need. No one there will care whether I show up or not.”

There was no one he could confide in, no one he could tell why his heart felt so heavy. Especially not Alexis.