Contract Marriage with the Devil Duke (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
“I—I’m getting off.”
She tried her best to appear calm as she stared at the open door, but her body was so stiff she couldn’t even lift her skirt and jump down. The four-wheeled carriage was quite high, making it dangerous.
Seeing Orentia hesitate, Dimidius let out a short sigh and reached out his hand. But then he quickly shook it off and leaned on his crutch instead. He seemed extremely dissatisfied with the situation.
“Oh! Holding hands might feel awkward, right? Well, there’s another way.”
But Orentia was too flustered to clearly hear his next words.
‘Should I really grab it? Or just lightly rest my hand on the back of his? But then I’d have only one hand holding my skirt, and I’d probably lose balance and fall.’
Orentia seriously pondered for a brief moment. Honestly, she didn’t really want to hold his hand, but it came down to basic manners. Though she acted more freely than other noble young ladies, as a well-educated aristocrat, she cared about her reputation.
At that moment, Dimidius spoke again.
“…Even if you dislike it, I could just grab your arm.”
Seeing Orentia still dithering in place, Dimidius raised both hands in exasperation.
Those raised hands, as if signaling his discomfort, felt like a powerful cue. Orentia, convinced she could manage on her own, mustered all her strength and leaped down. It was now or never.
Watching her recklessly jump from the high carriage, Dimidius effortlessly caught Orentia in his arms.
Her body settled into his embrace like fluttering flower petals. His firm hand gripped the hem of her dress, and a brief silence passed between them.
The scent of tree bark brushed past her nose, the pale column of his throat lay before her eyes, and even his well-built chest seemed enviable to any man.
Everything felt unfamiliar.
Still holding Orentia, Dimidius stood firmly and spoke with a teasing tone.
“…Just how long do you plan to stay in my arms?”
“Oh! That’s exactly what I mean!”
Orentia’s face burned hotly. Utterly embarrassed, she desperately wanted to escape his embrace.
Her flushed face turned toward him as she cried out,
“I—I’m getting down!”
After some awkward struggling, Orentia abruptly pulled herself out of Dimidius’s arms. Barely regaining her balance, she quickly stepped away from the carriage. After catching her breath, she turned her head—only to see the carriage carrying the Grand Duke already speeding away down Shine Street. Not even a farewell.
The carriage raced off again, as if it owned the road like a lawless outlaw.
Demon Duke, Dimidius Belial.
Their encounter was truly bizarre. It felt like seeing a mirage in the middle of a desert.
“Seriously, what even was that? Ever since I came to Shine Street, I’ve only met strange people.”
So dumbfounded was Orentia that she stood laughing emptily in front of the office for a long while.
[This is the timeline separator]“Y—Your Grace, Grand Duke Belial!”
“Your Grace, you’ve arrived!”
The knights, filled with tension, bowed deeply at the sight of Dimidius. Though they offered their greetings, they remained frozen in place like statues.
Understandably so.
Dimidius Belial possessed such immense magical power that merely standing near him could exhaust a person’s spirit.
Dimidius recalled the woman who had looked directly at him earlier with wide eyes, speaking clearly and firmly. She hadn’t seemed affected by his presence at all.
At first, he’d assumed she was simply insane. He’d heard that some people suffering mental disturbances couldn’t sense his aura. But she wasn’t one of them—that much he’d realized when he’d grabbed her hand as the carriage jolted.
Holy power.
She was someone who possessed holy power, and the intensity he’d felt through her hand was quite strong.
Yet she seemed completely unaware of having it herself. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have run from those riffraff—she’d have fought back.
She had clear, pure eyes and made rather sensible remarks.
‘I have a face hard to forget once seen.’
She was beautiful.
Her platinum hair shimmered like shattered sunlight, and her golden eyes—considered noble—glistened brightly. She was surely from a distinguished family.
Lost in thought about the nameless woman, Dimidius was approached by his aide, Kilrun, who had noticed his distant expression.
“Your Grace, where is the weapon you were looking for?”
Only upon hearing Kilrun’s voice did Dimidius snap back to reality.
“Oh! He said it’s not fully finished yet. Next week, Kilrun—you come pick it up yourself. To think he made me come here personally… Master Sol the blacksmith really is something.”
Master Sol of Shine Street was famously known for never bowing his head even to ordinary nobles. His skills were so exceptional that no one dared challenge him. A weapon artisan with forty years of experience, he was especially renowned as the best at forging sabre blades.
Currently, Dimidius was staying at his townhouse in the capital, Geranium, having left his duchy. He was fully occupied with handling council affairs and monitoring the Empress’s movements—and had taken the opportunity to entrust his sword to the blacksmith.
Kilrun cautiously addressed Dimidius, sensing an unusual atmosphere about him.
“You’d normally be angry in this situation, Your Grace. Did something happen?”
Sharp as ever.
Dimidius hadn’t actually been angry at Master Sol—he’d been thinking about that odd woman he’d just met.
Kilrun seemed to sense purely from Dimidius’s aura that his primary emotion wasn’t anger toward the blacksmith for sending him away before the deadline, but rather curiosity toward her. It was no surprise—after all, they’d worked together for over five years.
Dimidius feigned a cough, pretending nonchalance.
“Nothing happened. Just got annoyed on the way—some pesky fly kept buzzing around.”
“A fly? What kind?”
“Tiny little thing, constantly buzzing. When I speak, she should just accept it—yet she keeps talking back.”
“…I see you met someone like that.”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
Dimidius immediately objected, but Kilrun was already scratching the scar on his cheek. Though Kilrun had a fierce-looking face, he was a meticulous man—always buttoning his collar up to the top.
To that Kilrun, Dimidius added,
“At first, I thought she recognized me. After all, who else wears a white bauta mask but me?”
Indeed, Grand Duke Dimidius Belial was a well-known figure throughout Bonus Empire. Even though he rarely left his duchy, rumors about him abounded.
Yet for some reason, the woman hadn’t instantly recognized him upon seeing the white bauta mask.
Dimidius felt both embarrassed and hurt in his pride—and strangely disappointed. Truthfully, he’d even felt a flicker of joy knowing someone could treat him so casually despite being aware of his demonic blood. That much, he couldn’t deny.
Sitting on the office sofa, Dimidius pushed his sweat-dampened hair upward. Despite his discomfort, he had no intention whatsoever of removing his mask.
Especially in Geranium, the capital, where many still remembered his father, former Grand Duke James Belial.
Dimidius despised his own face—so much like his father, James Belial—not just with hatred, but with a desire to deny it forever. That was precisely why even he refused to look at his own reflection.
His father, James, had been a man more demonic than any demon.
Outwardly gentle and kind, he was inwardly the most violent and authoritarian man at home.
“You got even one question wrong on the test? Useless brat! Always like this. Do you really think you deserve to live comfortably in my house?”
To seven-year-old Dimidius, James had spoken without restraint. The young boy had already seemed resigned, his eyes utterly devoid of light, his small mouth tightly shut.
“And you were crying in your mother’s arms again? You’ll never become a real man. What a disappointment.”
When even his mother, Lilith, suddenly left him soon after, he locked himself in a lightless cave, waiting only for death.
“Enough! Just stop it all. That woman was the same as everyone else anyway. No one in Bonus Empire could possibly like red eyes, right?”
Few in Bonus Empire had red eyes—Dimidius Belial, with his demonic blood, was the most famous among them. In contrast, those with blue-tinged eyes were of imperial blood, while golden eyes mostly belonged to nobles.
Despite his innate authority, business acumen, and abilities surpassing ordinary humans, Dimidius remained perpetually lonely. The people of Bonus Empire had made him so—treating him as a monstrous half-breed stained in blood.
[This is the timeline separator]Sure enough, Bobby was waiting outside the office. Bobby tearfully welcomed Orentia, claiming she’d waited a long time. Still dazed, Orentia met with Karunda the lawyer and quickly returned to Count Armenuaka’s estate. She didn’t want to stay in Shine Street any longer.
The lawyer was famously the best at litigation in Bonus Empire, and he’d surely noticed the Armenuaka name attached to Orentia’s.
Thus, although she lacked an immediate retainer fee, their discussion went smoothly. Contrary to his rumored sharpness, he was quite kind—immediately offering to file the request to terminate her guardianship.
‘You must have worried a great deal. That money rightfully belongs to you, after all.’
‘Exactly! They’d have to return it if it went to court—so why act this way? It’s infuriating.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll handle it firmly for you.’
‘Still, couldn’t you open your office somewhere safer? Why Shine Street of all places?’
‘Ah, was it inconvenient for you to come? I happen to love Shine Street. People were just celebrating today, saying the Street has been blessed by the Stag God. It’s so lively—it’s truly wonderful.’
‘What does “blessed by the Stag God” even mean?’
‘It means spring has finally arrived. Whenever people in the forest of Shine Street spot the Stag—the spirit of spring—they hold a spontaneous festival. Isn’t that delightfully charming?’
She began to wonder if the rumors of his sharpness arose simply because his personality clashed with pretentious nobles.
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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