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Arpia entered a nearby city on her way to Kassilon.

She had traveled a distance that would take months on horseback in a fraction of the ti. Even for soone who could command a Servant, crossing the continent was too much. She needed to rest from ti to ti.

Elves lived in harmony with nature, but that didn’t an they camped out in the wild. Even elves preferred soft beds.

Where should I go?

Unlike the Beastkin Kingdom, Bestiana, or the dwarven nation of Doomheim, elves were welcod in any human city.

That was because the spirits they controlled provided practical benefits in everyday life. Many nobles wanted to befriend elves for that reason.

Having an elven friend even raised one’s social standing among the nobility.

To the point that if an elf barged into a lord’s castle and said, "I’m sleeping here tonight," they’d be given the finest guest room.

Of course, Arpia had no intention of doing that.

Narsha had explicitly told her not to.

She had even warned Arpia to grab a random passerby and ask them for the best inn in town instead.

Right now, Arpia’s pouch was stuffed with gold coins.

Since she was naïve about the ways of the world, there was a high chance she’d get swindled. But even if she got scamd, Narsha had made sure she had enough money so she wouldn’t cause trouble.

“Where’s the best inn in this city?”

“If you’re looking for the best, it’d be Golden Star Lodge. The wealthy and nobles frequent the place.”

Arpia asked a random pedestrian and got her answer.

Thanks to her hood concealing her ears, her identity remained hidden.

She imdiately made her way to the inn she was told about. Narsha had advised her that if she planned to stay in the city, securing lodging should be the first thing she did.

The Golden Star Lodge lived up to its na. The building shimred with gold, grand and extravagant. It looked more like a palace than an inn.

“How much per night?”

“Ten gold coins. You’ll have access to a warm bath, and als will be delivered directly to your room.”

“One night, then.”

She was only staying for a single night.

Without hesitation, Arpia handed over the hefty sum.

With her room secured, Arpia stepped outside.

There was still ti before she had to sleep. Staying cooped up in her room until sunset felt dull, so she decided to explore the city.

The only city she had ever visited was Noctar.

However, there wasn’t much to see.

Since Karami left, she hadn’t felt curiosity about anything.

But then sothing caught her eye.

“What are you doing? Walk properly.”

A well-dressed man cracked a whip at a ragged, frail woman.

She was little more than skin and bones, her clothes in tatters.

He was treating her with utter cruelty.

Arpia turned to a bystander.

“Why is he doing that?”

“Why else? She’s a slave.”

“What does being a slave have to do with being beaten?”

“You from so backwater town without slaves or sothing? Slaves get beaten when they don’t listen.”

Arpia’s understanding of a master-slave relationship was nothing like this.

Karami might play pranks, but he had never once been truly cruel.

As a slave herself, Arpia knew this well.

But this—this wasn’t a master and slave.

It was a sadist and his victim.

It was needlessly brutal.

At least, it should have been.

“Ahh—!”

The woman collapsed, unable to withstand the rciless lashes.

Her body was covered in wounds.

Arpia’s heart pounded as she watched.

She couldn’t look away.

But she didn’t feel pity.

She felt—

Jealousy.

Beneath the bandages wrapped around her arms lay scars.

As she watched the woman, she felt as if she could rember exactly how those wounds had been inflicted.

If she were the one kneeling there—

If Karami were the one holding the whip—

If Karami were the one striking her—

What would that feel like?

Arpia’s body trembled.

A thrill ran through her.

Even the re thought of it made goosebumps rise all over her skin.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

By the ti she ca to her senses, she was already walking toward them.

The man hesitated as a hooded stranger approached.

“...Who the hell are you? Got a problem with disciplining my slave?”

A problem?

Not really.

If anything, she was curious.

She just wanted to know what pain from soone else felt like.

Arpia pulled back her hood.

The man holding the whip, the slave on the ground, and everyone nearby gasped.

“An... elf?”

“It’s an elf!”

Even the overbearing man shrank back at the sight of an elf.

“W-Wait a second! She’s not an elf—she’s a human! This is just normal discipline between a master and his slave! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Who said anything about wrong? I’m not so divine judge.”

“...Then?”

Arpia grinned.

“Tell you what—why don’t you let her go... and try it on instead?”

****

"Hahaha! To think an elf would be interested in sothing like this. I never imagined it! Well, I suppose everyone in this world has their own quirks, elves included."

Hugo let out a boisterous laugh in the middle of the street as he continued to beat the slave.

A worthless bastard from a worthless baron family—Hugo.

Having been exiled to the outskirts, all he ever did was buy slaves he fancied and tornt them. Even his hobbies were as worthless as he was.

When Arpia had first approached him, he had nearly pissed himself. Not because she was beautiful, but because she was dangerous.

Elves were notoriously temperantal.

If soone dared to keep an elf as a slave, the reaction would be, "An elf? As a slave? Is he out of his damn mind?" Even soone like Hugo, obsessed with slaves, had never considered touching an elf.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case this ti.

On the contrary, she seed ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) interested.

"An elf into SM? Heheheh."

A rare opportunity to legally whip an elf.

He had always been curious.

Just how would an elf cry?

Surely, even their screams would be beautiful.

"This is my villa."

Arpia arrived at Hugo's estate.

As they entered the building, they were greeted by slaves shackled in chains.

Their attire resembled maid uniforms—but not the typical kind.

Their skirts were scandalously short, revealing their underwear; so had their midriffs exposed, while others wore nothing more than maid bikinis. The exposed skin was covered in bruises and whip marks.

Though every single one of them wore a dark expression, Arpia paid it no mind.

Before long, the two arrived at the basent. Most basents shared a similar atmosphere, but this one was tailored to the master's particular tastes.

The tools.

The devices.

Arpia, seeing so of them for the first ti in her life, showed mild interest.

"What's this?"

"A Spanish horse."

"And what is it used for?"

"You sit a slave on top of it and attach weights to their ankles. As the weight pulls them down, the sharp edge presses deeper between their legs. Watching them struggle is the best entertainnt."

"Oh..."

The creativity of humans.

She couldn't help but be impressed.

"Alright, I think you've seen enough. Let's get started. Stand over there."

"And that? What is it?"

Hugo pointed at an X-shaped device.

"A restraint. True pleasure can only be felt when one has lost all control of their body."

"Hmm..."

"Don't worry. If you ask to be freed, I'll let you go imdiately. I'm not stupid—I don’t have the guts to actually harm an elf."

Arpia didn't think for long.

She calmly stepped in front of the device.

Hugo, barely containing his twitching grin, began fastening the shackles to her limbs. Arpia's body was soon bound in an X shape.

"Pffft! Puhuhuhu!"

And then, Hugo couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

He burst into crazed laughter like a madman.

"You dumb bitch! That’s not just an ordinary restraint—it’s a magic tool! You won’t be able to use your mana!"

Arpia clenched and unclenched her fists.

She could feel her mana circuits blocked by so kind of barrier.

Just as Hugo said, using mana was proving to be difficult.

"You’re strong, sure, but what do those savages hiding in the forest know? Who would've thought an elf would willingly walk into my hands?"

If he could ta an elf, even his family wouldn’t be able to look down on him anymore. He could revive his crumbling house, and at the center of it all—would be him, Hugo.

He pulled out the whip hanging from his belt.

Crack!

He flicked it in the air, letting it fully extend.

"Don’t worry too much. You seem pretty interested in this sort of play... You’ll get used to it in no ti!"

Hugo swung the whip.

It struck Arpia’s thigh.

Smack!

A red welt appeared on her pale skin.

But Arpia neither groaned nor winced.

Her expression remained as dry and indifferent as ever.

"Oh? You're pretty good at enduring it? Even better. Breaking that expression of yours is the real fun!"

Hugo whipped her again and again, showing no rcy. The sharp cracks of the whip echoed through the basent as it bit into Arpia’s flesh.

To any onlooker, the scene would have been disturbing.

But Arpia felt anticipation.

When she carved wounds into her own arms and watched the blood drip down, a chilling thrill coursed through her body.

But there was a limit.

Her own mind would eventually intervene, telling her that she shouldn’t go further.

But if it was pain inflicted by another—

If it was suffering that didn’t co from her own hands—

Wouldn’t it provide a different kind of sensation?

...Disgusting.

Arpia was no stranger to pain. This wasn’t even remotely painful.

When the spirits rampaged inside her, that was far worse—many tis over.

But watching Hugo, completely ignorant, whipping away in delight—

Only filled her with disgust.

Sickening.

Inflicting pain for pain’s sake wouldn't work.

It mattered who was doing it.

A lesson learned.

"Burn him."

"Hah... What?"

It happened in an instant.

The mont Arpia's lips moved, flas erupted and engulfed Hugo.

"Gyaaaah?! Wh-what?! What the hell?! It’s hot! It’s hot!!!"

Hugo collapsed, rolling on the floor in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire.

But the flas did not die down.

"Why are you just standing there?! Put it out! Put it out, damn it!!!"

"I’d love to help, but..."

Clank. Clank.

"I'm tied up. Can't exactly move. And I can’t use my mana either."

"Gaaahhh!!!"

"Co on, hold out a little longer. You love dishing out pain, don’t you? You should be good at taking it too."

Arpia smiled sweetly.

Depending on who was suffering—inflicting pain was far more enjoyable than enduring it.

Another lesson learned.

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