In a pristine study, bereft of any superfluous ornantation save for a voluminous collection of books, Ansel sat behind his desk, scrutinizing the agitated young girl before him, while trying his utmost to conceal the mirth in his eyes.
He could sense the restless unease radiating from Seraphina, could perceive how, on their journey to his study, she had contemplated turning back countless tis. Yet, she had not, and Ansel knew she would not.
He had prepared for this mont for a considerable length of ti, transforming the confusion, impotence, resentnt, and fury of his youthful years into a power unique to Ansel of Hydral.
Now, it was ti to begin the first— and most morial— training.
"Miss Marlowe."
Ansel took a sip of the pale golden liquid in his cup, his tone gentle, "Are you certain you wish to serve once again?"
"..."
Seraphina Marlowe, her head bowed, remained silent.
A slight smile tugged at the corners of the young noble's mouth, his mirth hidden behind a cheerful cadence, "Given your deanor, I would assu you don't wish to—"
"...Yes."
"Pardon? What did you just say, Miss Marlowe?"
"I said...Yes!"
Seraphina's voice rose sharply, her neck flushed a faint shade of crimson as her blood surged, and she glared defiantly at Ansel, "I wish to continue serving you, is that enough?!"
"You should look at yourself, Miss Marlowe."
Ansel leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands, "Is this how you present yourself when asking to serve?"
He fell silent, smiling and watching Seraphina.
In the quiet study, only the sound of the young girl's increasingly ragged breaths could be heard.
["Seri, Lord Hydral can show you a broader world."]
["Father, mother... and the village will all beco better!"]
The happiness of her loved ones, the small village brimming with her fond mories, and her envisioned future.
—Just like that damned Emperor, to be able to look down upon the world, where no one would dare to belittle her. A future where everyone would have to show her utmost reverence, a future shining with imasurable radiance.
Her sister's gentle, pleading words, the beautiful vision she painted, all brutally suppressed Seraphina's defiance.
Ansel relished in Seraphina's struggle; everything happening before his eyes was, to him, as inevitable as that damned fate.
All he did was... give a minuscule nudge, treating Seraphina "a little" more tolerant and kind. That was all.
Marlina, intelligent as she was, would struggle to voice her suspicions due to her inherent weakness. But that didn't matter, it was exactly what Ansel wanted.
More importantly, it would solidify Marlina's belief in having Seraphina follow him.
As soone who knew Seraphina just as intimately, Marlina knew precisely how to make Seraphina capitulate— there were only a few weaknesses in the life of the Sky Wolf Empress, and precisely for this reason, she seed particularly powerless when confronted with them. It was in that future where Seraphina had lost these weaknesses that she had beco the invincible Sky Wolf Empress.
Her unreasoning resistance and abhorrence could scarcely stir up any trouble now.
"Lord... Hydral."
Her sowhat disheveled snowy hair looked like the beautiful mane on a wolf's neck. The girl gritted her teeth, swallowed the intense discomfort and hatred festering in her heart, and squeezed out a humble plea, almost grinding her teeth in the process.
It was the first ti she had spoken in such a manner to soone she loathed so deeply, not even when she had been expelled from the Frost Tower had she ever bowed her head like this.
"Please... allow ... to serve... you."
The words Marlina had taught her were forced out between her gritted teeth, her resentnt and hatred causing her blood to surge once more, staining her delicate ears beneath her fine hair a shade of red.
"Hmm..."
Ansel, swirling his wine glass, pondered for a mont, "Barely acceptable."
"Therefore, you, uh, Lord—"
"But," Ansel interjected, his laughter light. Seraphine, head bowed, was unable to view the unrestrained, exuberant joy and delight etched on Ansel's countenance.
"Returning to my side signifies one thing, Miss Marlowe."
He sipped his wine, letting out a content sigh,
"—you must reclaim your deserved...punishnt."
Seraphina's form stiffened; she slightly lifted her gaze towards Ansel, her voice hesitant, "...Punishnt?"
"Indeed, the punishnt you were spared at last night's banquet because I allowed you to depart."
The young and handso Hydral cradled his cheek in one hand, his eyes mirthful as he regarded Seraphina, "Since you intend to return, then I ought to retract this rcy."
...So that was it.
Seraphina let out a quiet sigh of relief. She now comprehended why this man was willing to welco her back.
—Turns out he was petty-minded, planning to exact his revenge now!
"Fine, I accept!" Seraphina, confidence straightening her posture, nodded, "I accept your... your punishnt."
Just a reprisal, what could it be?
Seraphina was never fearful of pain. Her rough handling of the assassin last night was evidence enough. Even Marlina had grown accustod to Seraphina's injuries, not even surprised by the wounds bandaged on her body.
In the Marlowe family, their father was incapable of hunting or labor due to a severe injury sustained in his early years, even incurring substantial dical expenses. Their mother was frail, and despite her best efforts, could earn little. The sa was true for Marlina; her primary role in the family was to negotiate as best she could with the tax officials. In such circumstances, their family continued to suffer the brutal taxation rates of the Red Frost territory.
Nevertheless, Seraphina single-handedly shouldered this family, all the hardships, the pain, even despair, had long made her indifferent to physical suffering.
If it was just punishnt that would grant her this opportunity, ensuring a promising future for her family, her village, this price was insubstantially small.
"Then, remove your clothing."
"Alright, no prob—"
Seraphina's action of lifting her garnt halted as her mind stuttered.
The girl stared at the young man before her, who was not much older than her, her body frozen for half a minute.
"What did you just... say?" Her voice wavered.
"Take off your outerwear," Ansel replied languidly.
At that mont, it seed as if sothing... in Ansel's study was stirring.
It was a formidable beast that had traversed the icy, savage land, shattered indomitable legions, conquered mountains piercing the heavens, using its supre might and brutal tyranny to intimidate the entire world!
Even Ansel thought for a mont... that the Sky Wolf Emperor truly had transcended the vast expanse of ti, shattered the chains of fate, and poured his wrath into this small study.
But it lasted only a mont.
Ansel's hand, holding the wine glass, did not tremble at all. Having witnessed despair and terror that could drive anyone to madness, how could he be swayed by the so-called...protagonist's "aura"?
And so they locked eyes until Seraphina, silent and shivering, began to remove her clothing.
—If that Hydral planned on doing that sort of thing, she would kill the beast instantly. Opportunities, futures be damned, she wanted him dead now!
Without any forewarning, the naless rage that ceaselessly stirred Seraphina Marlowe's emotions seized the upper hand. Had it not been for Ansel's prescient restraint, the last vestige of her sanity would have been consud, and the furious young wolf would have ripped open his throat instead of undressing.
The girl cast her austere attire to the floor, revealing her skin, pure and glowing with a jade-like luster in the dim light, as though she was an ethereal dream.
Her shoulders were slender, the roundness tinged with a delicate blush. Her stomach appeared soft and inviting, the distinct lines ford between the rectus abdominis and external oblique muscles extending towards her pelvis, accentuating a slight protrusion. It displayed a level of fitness and allure beyond her years.
Her thighs, far from slender, but robust and devoid of any excess fat, revealed graceful muscle contours as she stood. Corresponding to these thighs, her calves appeared incredibly slender, the proportions impeccably perfect. Her feet, devoid of any prominent veins, were smooth and alabaster. One was wrapped in a bandage, but it did not detract from her beauty; rather, it added an unusual aesthetic.
Upon the young girl's delicate fra remained only a few layers of decent fabric.
"You seem rather reluctant, Miss Marlowe," Ansel, propping his cheek on one hand, looked at her with a playful smile.
Seraphina's eyes, now a deeper shade of red due to the anger coursing through her, remained fixed on Ansel, silent.
[Seri, promise , no matter how he tests you next, you can't let him down, understand?]
The atmosphere once again beca tense. Seraphina was waiting for an opportunity, an opportunity to kill Ansel, while he... well, he was contentedly admiring Seraphina's body, with no other thoughts in mind.
Until a sudden ringtone broke the heavy impasse.
Ansel casually picked up the square magic crystal from the table, pressed it, and held it to his ear.
"...Mhm, alright, got it, hehe, I'll rember," he said.
Then, without any warning, he tossed the magic crystal to Seraphina.
The girl instinctively reached out to catch it, only to realize too late that she'd once again been thoroughly observed. Before she could send a murderous glance Ansel's way, a voice she was all too familiar with echoed from the crystal.
"Seri, Seri, is that you?"
It was her mother.
"Mum... Mother?" Seraphina spoke into the magic crystal in disbelief, "How could you—"
Her words were cut off by a voice, brimming with so much joy that it was on the verge of tears:
"This morning, a noble brought doctors to our ho... They cured your father's illness and announced that our village would be exempt from taxes for five years! Seri, they say you've beco an incredible person, that you're working for a kind and generous man, that Lord Hydral, our benefactor! Is it true? Are you really working for him?"
"I..."
Hearing her mother's voice, almost breaking into tears, Seraphina opened her mouth, glanced back at the beast behind the desk, and after a brief silence... she allowed her arm to fall from her body.
"Yes, Mother, I'm working for him," she replied softly, striving to keep her voice steady and natural.
"Father... he really is better?"
"Of course, of course! Ull! Co over here, talk to Seri!"
A few seconds later, Seraphina heard a rough, quivering voice from the magic crystal.
"Seri, I... my wounds have healed, you no longer need to hunt alone, I—"
"What are you talking about, dad!"
Seraphina cut off her father's words: "I'm a big shot now! I don't need you to go hunting anymore, you don't have to!"
"...Yes, yes, I know... I always believed in you, good girl."
Her father, who had never cried in front of her, his voice was now choked up: "I knew you would... you would beco an incredible person."
"Hey, then—ah!"
"...Seri? What's wrong?"
"... " Seraphina clutched the magic crystal tightly, lowering her gaze to the... serpentine, pitch-black, sinister object slowly wrapping around her body.
Like a whip, but with orderly, snake-like scales on two sharp edges, along with its incredibly complex chanical structure, it proved to be more than just a simple whip.
And the one holding this "blade whip"...
Who else could it be but Ansel?
The blade whip coiled around Seraphina's leg like a living entity, slithering upwards, winding around her waist, nestling between the soft folds of her chest flesh, undulating gently.
"I... I'm fine, dad, I'm quite well," she responded softly, blood seeping from her clenched palm, stark against the cold touch of the blade whip, a re breath away from slicing her skin.
"Good... good, Seri. Do rember to express your gratitude to Lord Hydral. Serve him with all your heart and soul. Refrain from being willful. I know you can do it," the voice echoed from the magical crystal.
Serve... him?
Why him?
Wasn't it she who had striven for all these, for respect and recognition? Wasn't it her who, with her own strength, had obtained all these lavish rewards, had restored her father's health, had improved the village?
The voice in the magic crystal ceased, the call ended.
At this mont, the voice of Ansel echoed, haunting and distant.
The tip of the blade whip traced a delicate path along Seraphina's chin, not cutting, but teasing like a pet.
"My dear Miss Seraphina," the demon from the abyss began his sermon, "what do you believe... has made you into such a 'figure of importance'?"
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