PSW Chapter 22: Before the Blood-Soaked Night of Revelry
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Wait.
Execution?
Bastet was startled and immediately clung to the grim-faced Yofar, anxiously meowing at him.
"Meow aoo~"
—I never said they did anything bad to me! I just said I didn’t want to get my ears and nose pierced! Damn, do you have to be this ruthless? Those are lovely young ladies! A whole group of beautiful young ladies!
"Meow~"
—How can you bring yourself to do this? Are you some kind of Madam Rong?!
"Meow meow~"
—Besides, the scratches on my ears happened because I struggled! The ladies didn’t mean to hurt me!
"Meow?"
—Uh, hey, are you even listening to me? Hello? Hello? Could it be that I meowed too fast?
Growing desperate, Bastet stood up on its hind legs, pressing its soft, paw pad-covered front paws against Yofar’s lips as he lowered his head to inspect the wound.
Then, stretching out its meow in an extra long, drawn-out whine—completely oblivious to how ridiculously soft and cute it sounded—
"Meow wuwuwuwu~~~~"
—Look at me! Look at me! If you don’t look at me, I’ll use my paw fluff to turn your lips into a sausage!
"…Shut up."
Yofar frowned, turning his head slightly to the side. He reached up to remove the cat paw from his lips.
But as his fingertips grasped the soft, warm, and adorably plump paw pads—
His hand hesitated for just a moment.
And then… he didn’t let go.
The handsome Pharaoh still looked furious, his face cold as he reprimanded Bastet.
But in reality?
His thumb was pressing down on Bastet’s paw pads, going biu biu as he played with them, utterly engrossed.
The tense atmosphere in the hall gradually eased, and the people around them let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Noticing this, Bastet let out a cheeky “Hehehe~” and very obediently offered up his other paw, smacking it against Yofar’s lips again.
The little bootlicker inched closer, coaxing him with a honeyed tone—
“Here, here! You can squish them all you want!”
“Does it feel good, my lord?”
“Let’s not be angry anymore, okay?”
"…"
Yofar narrowed his ice-blue eyes, staring at him.
Pets were so beloved because, in their eyes, you could always see that you were their entire world—their god. It was as if, without you, they simply couldn’t survive.
And that kind of devotion had a way of softening a person’s heart.
The little black cat in front of him blinked his bright green eyes, looking sharp and full of life, those glittering pupils reflecting Yofar’s own face.
As if he adored and depended on him completely.
Yofar remained silent for a moment, then suddenly caught Bastet’s soft, plump paw pad between his lips, giving it a strong bite—like a punishment.
Bastet, thinking he was actually about to bite him, panicked and immediately yanked his paw back.
He clutched it protectively, eyes full of suspicion. “Meowwu—That’s too much! A Pharaoh biting a cat?! Where’s your dignity?!”
Yofar ignored him, casually pulling out a white cloth from who-knows-where and pressing it gently against the cat’s injured ear. The deep red of fresh blood quickly soaked into the fabric.
But Bastet didn’t feel much pain. Aside from the initial sting, it had mostly turned into a burning sensation.
"Call me Master." Yofar suddenly said.
Bastet blinked. "Meow?" Huh?
"I said, call me Master. If you do, I’ll spare the maids in the bathhouse."
"…"
Why… did Yofar suddenly bring this up?
Bastet had never called him that.
Even though he was currently stuck in a cat’s body, he never really thought of himself as just a clueless kitten. He had lived as a human man for over twenty years!
And now, he was supposed to call another handsome man Master…?
That was so embarrassing.
And somehow… weirdly suggestive…
Cough cough! Not because I have impure thoughts! Anyone would hesitate in this situation!
Bastet’s gaze darted around awkwardly. He didn’t want to waste time—if Yofar’s personal guards acted too quickly, the maids would be doomed.
So, after a moment of silent suffering, Bastet retracted his front paws and sat on Yofar’s lap. He lifted a hind leg, pretending to scratch his neck, kicking up a little cloud of cat fur to cover his embarrassment.
A few seconds later, his tongue tripped over itself as he forced out, "Meow… meow…" M-Master…
Yofar’s lips curled into a smile.
"Louder. And look at me when you say it."
"…"
The tiny black furball’s face turned red. He stared at Yofar in disbelief.
But when he saw the amusement in the Pharaoh’s eyes—
The little monster immediately became furious with shame.
He deliberately screamed in Yofar’s face, spitting cat saliva all over him.
"MEOWWAAOOOO—!!!" MASTER! I LOVE YOU THE MOST, MASTER! AWOOPH! PFFT, MASTER!
Happy now?!
"Very good." Yofar chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he petted the cat’s head. "Such a good boy."
Bastet: [Profanity muffled by aggressive tail flicking.jpg]
The King Was Angry—He Ordered the Death of Many Maids, All for a Cat.
The King Was Pleased—He Recalled His Guards, Also for the Same Cat.
Normally, changing an order would take at least a day. Yofar, however, did it in just a few minutes…
Yofar’s most trusted warriors, men who had followed him through countless battles, looked at Bastet with complicated expressions.
It was as if, beneath the fur of this little black cat, they could see the soul of a seductive, ruinous beauty—one capable of bringing disaster upon nations.
"…Good thing it’s just a cat," muttered Breton. As someone devoted to Yofar, he really didn’t want anyone—man or beast—to have such an influence over the King’s decisions.
Nephthys nodded in agreement, clearly sharing the same concern. She softly interrupted Yofar’s interaction with Bastet.
"My King, we should continue. The ceremony will begin soon."
Yofar’s smile faded. "Mm, continue."
Even so, he still didn’t release Bastet, his hand firmly pressing against the cat’s wounded ear. Just then, Ms. Alina, arrived looking for Bastet. Yofar handed the cat over to her, instructing, "Take care of its wound. Also, bring me the ointment for my allergies."
"Meow~"
Bastet watched Yofar worriedly. His fur was at its seasonal shedding peak, and no matter how little he moved, stray hairs still managed to stick to Yofar’s skin.
"Take him. If he doesn’t want to wear jewelry, then leave him be." The second half of Yofar’s words were directed at Alina. Without another glance at Bastet, he turned his icy gaze back to the unfamiliar men before him.
"…Understood."
Alina, relieved that she wasn’t punished, gently picked up the black cat and carried him out of the hall toward a side chamber, where she applied a thin layer of ointment to his ear before heading back to Yofar.
Since the King had started keeping a cat constantly by his side, Alina had taken it upon herself to place soft cushions in every corner of his palace—wherever Yofar spent time—so that the little feline always had a cozy place to nap.
Bastet, still nursing his sore ear, flopped lazily onto one of these cushions. Not wanting to put pressure on the injury, he sprawled out like a pancake, his green eyes half-lidded as he watched Alina kneel beside Yofar, carefully dabbing ointment onto his skin.
Yofar didn’t even flinch at the sensation, completely unbothered, as he continued his serious conversation with the gathered warriors—men radiating bloodthirsty intent.
The little black cat listened for a while… then started to realize something wasn’t right.
First of all—there were no other maids in this hall. Not a single one.
Second—one of the men, the one built like a mountain, said something alarming:
"Our warriors are already disguised as commoners and hidden throughout the city. Good thing that old fool finally agreed to cooperate, or we wouldn’t have been able to slip past the ministers’ eyes… Hah! But if it weren’t for the King selecting a Queen, that spineless bastard would’ve kept sitting on the fence! Blind, cowardly fool! Tonight, I’ll kill him along with those other useless old geezers!"
Bastet: …Wait a damn minute.
Warriors Disguised as Commoners…
Bastet’s swaying tail came to an abrupt stop. He immediately guessed what was going on but didn’t dare think too deeply about it.
Another man, one with a perpetual grin that made him look anything but friendly, spoke up.
"Oh, come on, Sok. With your build, people will recognize you in an instant. You’ll blow our cover! Everyone knows what’s happening, sure, but we still need to keep up appearances. Don’t give enemy spies an excuse to stir up trouble."
After calming his companion, he turned to Yofar and sighed.
"Sigh, my King, it’s truly wonderful that you finally agreed to choose a Queen. Since you made the announcement three days ago, many people have decided to side with us."
Previously, Yofar’s empty harem had left certain influential ministers hesitant to pledge their allegiance. They feared that if Yofar were ever assassinated, the throne would fall into uncertain hands.
Now that Yofar had decided to take a Queen, securing a bloodline, those same ministers saw a chance to support his future heir. If they aligned with him now, they could prove their loyalty and secure a place in the new order. Nephthys and the other close aides had only needed a few rounds of persuasion before these officials eagerly changed sides.
As a modern person, Bastet could never have imagined that something as simple as marriage and having children could hold such immense significance in a royal court.
For Yofar’s faction—who were determined to eliminate the remnants of the old regime—this moment was absolutely crucial.
Many ministers secretly maintained private armies, and some even had ties to the palace guards. Meanwhile, Yofar’s warriors were required, by tradition, to remain stationed outside the city.
The ministers weren’t fools. They kept a very close watch on Yofar’s most loyal men.
But now…
"We couldn’t get in before," sneered a scarred man missing half his left hand. "But now we have—" his lips curled into a menacing grin, his voice laced with murderous intent, "so we’ll slaughter every stray dog standing in the King’s way."
At those words, everyone except Yofar grinned expectantly—even the elegant and beautiful Nephthys.
Seeing their bloodthirsty smiles, Bastet felt his fur stand on end. He swallowed nervously.
"Well said, Abelieu."
Yofar’s profile, illuminated in the dim light, remained as stunning as ever—like a benevolent deity in a temple fresco.
Yet, he approved of their killing intent. Even his ethereal ice-blue eyes gleamed with the same eerie, bloodthirsty glow.
It was unnerving.
"I have long awaited this day," Yofar murmured, his voice low and husky. "So long that the anticipation has been agony—like a husk, parched and cracking in the sun…"
His voice remained as beautiful as ever, as cold as ever—like something that had crawled out from the depths of darkness, like mist spreading over frozen ice.
He declared:
"Those who serve me, unsheathe your blades."
"Clear the path for my will to prevail!"
"Scour the filth from my throne!"
"Tonight—is your night of revelry!"
Before him, the assembled warriors pounded their fists against their chests in unison, their restrained excitement turning into a low, guttural war cry:
"We fight for your will!"
On the side, a thoroughly stunned Bastet (fluffed up like a puffball): …Did I just hear something I definitely shouldn’t have?
Holy sht.*
_____
Author’s Note: 【Mini Theater】
Bastet: They’re really about to do something big! Holy crap, what if they go so insane they try to silence me?!
Yofar (glancing at the cat): You know too much…
Bastet: …I may not be a real human, but you’re a real son of a b***!*
T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊
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