While Isaac Rescues at Count Masoch's Estate…
In the Magic Academy's Dungeon
"Domi, why did you panic when Master Clement mentioned Belmont and the hero?" Ding Yangchun, adept at sensing women's fear, caught Sophia's startled reaction.
Her dog ears are locked again, limiting her hearing to a one-meter radius, catching only Ding Yangchun's voice through the leash chain.
"Mmph?" Sophia feigns ignorance.
Slap! A whip cracks across her pale rear. "Domi, your scheming is pathetic. Don't play dumb with me."
"Mmphhh…" Sophia lowers her dog-adorned head in pain, instinctively trying to rub her rear with her folded, bound forearms. With only three points of support, her balance collapses, and she falls.
"Domi can't even walk? I told you, no rubbing even if you could," Ding Yangchun sneers. He steps on Sophia's back, pressing his full weight onto her chest. The silver piercing rings in her breasts, already agonizing against any touch, grind into the rough dungeon floor, intensifying the pain.
The rings pierce her glandular ducts, which, for humans, could cause hyperplasia. But Sophia's perfect human form, maintained by her vampire abilities, produces milk—a feature she crafted to impress her friend Laurena Safisanis, a royal vampire from a notorious libertine family. She forgot to revert it, and now, with mercury and silver powder injections blocking her ability to alter her body, milk leaks from the pierced ducts.
The friction against the floor tugs the rings, pulling her sensitive points. Ding Yangchun rhythmically kicks the plug between her legs, making it piston within its passage. Her folded, bound legs convulse, and fluids gush inside the plug.
"Eighteenth time, Domi," Ding Yangchun notes, reading her body's signs despite the plug concealing the release. Each counted climax shames the proud princess, humiliated by succumbing so often to this vile, short man.
"You're one lewd bitch," he says, grabbing her purple hair, fixed by the bridle gag, and yanking her up. Her bound forearms can't touch the ground, forcing her weight onto her folded, bound knees.
He bites her leaking nipple, greedily sucking her sweet milk, teasing the ring with his tongue.
"Mmph… mmphhh!" Sophia's face flushes; more fluids seep between her legs.
"Your dog milk's delicious, Domi," Ding Yangchun smiles, terrifying her with its implication of a scheme.
"For your tasty milk, I'll skip punishing you for falling while trying to rub your ass."
"Mmph?" Sophia feels a flicker of relief. Unlike other deceitful villains, Ding Yangchun keeps his word—whether punishment or "reward" (merely a pause in torment, but a reprieve nonetheless). She feels a perverse sense of safety, unpunished for her fall.
This is Ding Yangchun's insidiousness. A dishonest thug is merely a reckless destroyer, but a devil who keeps promises—like Ding Yangchun—entices with small costs for your soul. Countless cults and deals with devils thrive because of this. He offers trivial gains—money, power—trapping you deeper until you lose everything, even sacrificing family for immortality or vengeance.
"Domi, happy?" he asks. "If not, I'll retract my words and double the punishment."
"…...." Sophia wrestles internally. Ding Yangchun set a code: one "mmph" for "yes," two for "no." She resists showing weakness.
"Five, four, three, two—" he counts down, like a parent threatening a child.
"Mmph!" At the last second, her pupils shrink in fear, and she whimpers once, shamed by admitting relief at avoiding punishment.
"Good girl, Domi," he says, releasing her hair. She crashes to the floor.
"Crawl up, Domi. You didn't answer: you know Belmont and the hero, right? More than just them capturing you?" He grins.
"…..." Sophia, propped on elbows and knees, lowers her dog-adorned head, tears streaming, unsure how to respond.
"Don't be scared, Domi. I know you know them. I won't force you."
"…..." His assurance of not forcing her sparks gratitude. What's wrong with me?
"That was just training you to obey commands. You're learning fast, aren't you?"
"…..."
"Domi, say you're grateful I didn't force you."
"…..."
"Five, four, three—"
"Mmph!" She complies, closing her eyes in shame as tears flow.
Her centuries of knowledge warn she's being tamed into Ding Yangchun's slave. As Zhendan's sages say, "the player is blind, the healer can't heal themselves." Her mentor Merlin taught her that knowledge and intelligence don't equal wisdom. Her vast human knowledge and innate brilliance don't change her childish folly. She once fought Merlin over his criticism, but now she sees her stupidity is enslaving her.
"It took a whole day to teach you to answer, slower than Zhendan's heroines. Your defiance matches trained Toyo kunoichi, the toughest to break. But I love a challenge!"
"It's late, Domi. No crying."
She closes her eyes, but he detects her tears.
Slap! A whip cracks her rear.
"Mmph, mmphhh!" She's allowed to vocalize only during lashes or climaxes.
"Tears are fine; it's physiology. But crying is forbidden."
The whip itself doesn't scare her, but Ding Yangchun's psychological grip instills fear. The whip symbolizes her loss of control, her joy and pain at his mercy.
Fear, new since Fidel's castle days ago, forces her to stifle sobs, though tears persist.
"Domi, if you carry me to your new doghouse, I won't target Belmont and the hero tomorrow. Deal?"
"Mmph!" Sophia, desperate, agrees, ignoring that it's only for tomorrow. Her intelligence grasps this, yet she craves any bargain, even at the cost of dignity for fleeting "rewards"—the illusion of control.
She knows she's trapped, growing dependent on Ding Yangchun, but can't save herself.
Merlin's image appears: "Sophia, intelligence and wisdom are different."
"You old lech, jealous I'm smarter?" her past voice retorts.
"Hah, me, the world's smartest, jealous?" Merlin, white-haired, tilts his nose at her.
This memory makes her smile amidst despair.
Old lech, you were right. I'm a fool.
"You know Karlthas, inventor of the piercing cannon?"
"Of course, the astral mage from another world, better than you," she'd replied.
"You admit he's smarter?"
"Barely. What's your point?"
"I toured the astral plane, found his world—"
"You found his world's gate? Is he a god now?"
"Yes, the god of folly and arrogance."
Am I the countess of folly?
"Intelligence means quick thinking; knowledge means understanding principles. Wisdom is neither. A dim fool might trip, but a clever fool with a magical artifact might forget a safety, blowing up a city. Sophia, you're that bomb!"
Merlin's words echo. Her folly—proving omnipotence to Isaac and Anna—led her to agree to Clement's custody without considering the risks, thinking death was the worst outcome.
Slap! A whip snaps her from bittersweet memories.
"Mmph, mmphhh!"
"Thinking, huh? Your mind belongs to your master. Get on all fours."
Ding Yangchun sits on her corset-cinched waist.
"Mmph… mmphhh… mmph… mmphhh!"
Her elbows and knees scream in pain. Her strength, weaker than a human woman's, shouldn't bear his weight, but fear drives her to summon all her strength.
Her elbow cartilage and joints creak; a human's would shatter.
"If you were human, I'd unbind your folded arms and legs for comfort. I don't break human bodies."
"Domi, regret being a vampire?"
"…......" Her pride as a royal who scorns lesser vampires refuses to yield.
Slap! Slap! Slap! He whips her rear a dozen times from her waist.
"Mmph, mmphhh!" She collapses, unable to support him.
He flips the prone "Domi," pulling her breast rings seven or eight centimeters, his knee pressing the plug in pistoning motions.
"Mmph… mmphhh-ohhh!" The rings' torment drowns out other pains, and the plug's movement triggers another release.
"Nineteenth time, Domi," he says, licking her tears.
"Not bad—despair's flavor."
He kicks her back to all fours, yanks her collar to stand her, and rides her waist again.
"Let's go, Domi."
Barely recovered, Sophia reluctantly crawls, carrying her master…
----------------------------------------------------------
Midnight, Rooftop Outside the Magic Academy
Under Sergei's invisibility spell, Anna lies on the roof, witch hunter hat on, peering through a monocular at the academy.
"Jane's room is still dark. Unless she sleeps without lights, she's not there," Anna whispers.
"Anna, hunting evil mages is a witch hunter's duty, right?" Isaac asks beside her.
"Yes, but do you know how strong Clement is?"
"How strong?"
"You've seen Jane's meteor burst—three volleys, twelve meteors, enough to raze a small vampire fort."
"Right, and?"
"Clement's mana and mastery can spam enhanced meteor bursts, leveling half of Paris."
Isaac trembles. Paris, over 2,000 acres, 20 square kilometers, 20 million square meters, with 300,000 people—Clement could erase half?
"Don't forget, the academy's his home turf. He has access to Goulens' Arcane Institute and Mage Tower, with millennia of mystical artifacts and spells. On his turf, he's ten times stronger."
"Ten… times?"
"Your supreme mage princess might only match Clement on his turf with all Goulens' artifacts."
"So… we can't win…"
"No, but we lure him off his turf. Never challenge a mage in their tower."
"Even off his turf, how do we beat a monster who can raze half of Paris?"
"Face-to-face, our odds are zero," Anna smirks.
"But witch hunters don't fare well face-to-face with vampires or werewolves either."
"Your point?"
"What hunter wrestles a bear with a knife? I'm a witch hunter!" Anna grins proudly.
----------------------------------------------------
Midnight, a Decent Cell in the Magic Academy's Dungeon
The "dog" named Domi lies on her side. Her thighs and calves are folded and bound, her knees red and swollen. Unlike typical hogties, her forearms are folded to her upper arms, elbows bound together, but her wrists, folded to her upper arms, are "free." A rope links her bound elbows to her folded ankles, hogtying her like a pig. A chain from her collar tethers her to the wall.
Her black corset and breast rings torment her waist and chest.
Her bridle gag, wrapped in a leather mask, muffles her. Inside, Ding Yangchun's month-old underwear fills her mouth with his stench, forced to service him before "bed."
Her eyes are now blindfolded with a leather mask, rendering her blind. With no need to obey, her enchanted dog ears block all sound, nullifying her prized vampire hearing.
Permitted to cry unseen, tears stream as she sobs quietly under the gag and mask.
"Mmphhh… mmph… mmph… mmphhh…"
I'm the world's dumbest creature. I've doomed myself, Jane, Isaac, and Anna.
This is punishment for her folly.
"Mmphhh… mmph… mmphhh…"
Blind, mute, and deaf, she's unaware that Ding Yangchun and Clement, holding the naked, gagged, bound, and corseted Jane, watch her sob.
"Silandria's princess, reduced to this in one day?" Clement remarks.
"Most fiery Zhendan heroines break in half a day. She's slow," Ding Yangchun replies.
"How long for my Jane?"
"Two hours," Ding Yangchun leers. "Lady Jane, I told you, all noblewomen have a different expression by their last look at me."
"Mmphhh!" Jane's tear-streaked face shows fear as Clement's wrinkled hands roam her body. Her feet, in 12 cm slave heels chained to limit steps to ten centimeters, and her 175 cm height make it easy for Clement to kiss her breasts.
"Lady Jane, submit, or I'll give you to Ding for training."
"Mmph, mmphhh!" Jane, seeing Sophia and Ding Yangchun, looks terrified.
"My Domi seems guilty about something," Ding Yangchun squints at Clement fondling Jane's rear.
"Oh?"
"Maybe guilt over her folly. I love women like that. The guiltier they feel, the angrier at their stupidity, the more their pride crumbles, degrading themselves."
"Oh?"
"Like Lady Jane, guilty for using Morse code in a bugged cell."
Jane's heart sinks, cursing her own folly.
Ding Yangchun loves making proud women self-destruct through guilt, breaking their dignity without effort. Many seek his punishment willingly. Humble Jane's self-blame is less severe than Sophia's, whose pride amplifies her self-loathing.
"Let's go, Master Clement. Tomorrow, as agreed."
"Indeed," Clement says, fondling Jane's breasts.
"Mmphhh…" Jane reacts physically.
"Lady Jane, haven't used the bathroom yet?" Clement teases.
"Mmph, mmphhh!" Jane blushes at his audacity.
Before Sophia, Jane respected Clement as a stern, scholarly professor. A humble scholar, she admired knowledgeable figures like Sophia and Clement, who once taught her efficient spellcasting, inspiring her to excel.
Clement, second to the Six-Person Council, was her idol before Sophia. She never imagined this revered mentor—professor, headmaster, steady superior—would be a vile old man lusting after her.
After six years under his guidance, publishing papers with his mentorship, she's now a subordinate molested by her boss, bound and helpless.
Swish! Two magical plugs seal Jane's lower orifices.
"Mmphhh???" Jane stares in horror, recalling Anna's collapse in a carriage when Sophia withheld a key.
"Lady Jane, remove your chastity spell, and I'll remove these plugs. Deal?" Clement smirks.
"Mmphhh? Mmphhh!" Clement carries the bound Jane out of Sophia's "doghouse" with Ding Yangchun.
Blind and deaf, Sophia knows nothing of this. Enduring her pierced chest and three plugs, she reflects on her capture yesterday. She must think cleverly now.
Had she drained the first guard to create a suppression field, she'd be free. Fear clouded her mind, and her unrecognized folly assumed she'd escape as always.
I admit I'm a foolish countess.
But I'll save myself and my friends.
I'm the lofty countess!
No more stupidity. There's still a chance.
With newfound resolve, Sophia drifts into sleep.
In her dream, she's a bound dog, fearfully looking at Ding Yangchun. Too late, she expects torment. But it's Isaac riding her.
"Your Highness, your castle's ahead. Carry me," Isaac says gently.
"Mmph!" She happily barks, nodding, crawling eagerly with elbows and knees. Her rapid movements make the anal plug's tail wag like a joyful dog's.
Isaac cares and protects me, so I trust carrying him?
I know it's a dream, but Isaac, save me…
Her despair vanishes, joyfully serving as Isaac's loyal dog and mount.
-----------------------------------------------
The Next Morning
"Domi, last night was your final stay in the fancy doghouse. From today, unless you obey, you'll sleep in the low-grade one," Ding Yangchun says, tugging Sophia's collar chain. She crawls on elbows and knees, living as "Domi" for a second day, feeling like centuries.
"Morning, Mister Ding," Clement greets, seated at a dungeon table with a chair opposite, eating breakfast.
He holds a chain linked to Jane's magic-suppressing collar.
Jane wears 12 cm slave heels, chained to limit steps to ten centimeters. Her hands remain in the single glove. Clement's healing magic and potions keep her body intact despite prolonged restraint.
Her corset, less extreme than Sophia's rib-crushing one, merely restricts her breathing.
Her bit gag is replaced with a bridle gag like Sophia's, with a leather mask muffling it. Her blonde hair, tied in a ponytail, marks her as a "mare."
"Master Clement, you have a pet too?" Ding Yangchun notes, seeing Jane's leash.
"Not as impressive as yours," Clement replies.
"But quite obedient." He tugs Jane's neck.
"Mmph…" Jane protests weakly.
"Training a mare, Master Clement? She'll pair well with my bitch," Ding Yangchun says.
He places a bedpan on the floor.
Sophia, seeing it, knows its purpose but dares not whimper.
"Lend me that plier," Ding Yangchun says.
"Here." Clement conjures the plier that suppresses holy energy into Ding Yangchun's hand.
"This plier, part of Vandein's set designed for the countess, took ten years to develop," Clement explains.
"Mmph?" Sophia reacts, stunned. Vandein… not killed by me… Why does he have…
Slap!
"Mmphhh! Mmphhh!" A whip cracks her rear.
"Domi, so disobedient. No whimpering, I said," Ding Yangchun scolds.
"Seems Countess Dominatrix is curious about Vandein's restraints," Clement notes.
Slap!
"Mmphhh!" Unlike Isaac's erratic lashes or Fidel Estruch's brute force, Ding Yangchun's strikes vary in frequency, target, rhythm, and intensity. Each is a unique pain, unadaptable despite her resilience.
Each lash terrifies her, etched in her bones. After yesterday's thousand varied strikes, she reflexively braces for pain when he raises his hand. One of his lashes outweighs a thousand of Isaac's.
Just one day, and his terror is clear.
No Zhendan heroine lasts five days under him.
Rosenlan noblewomen fall in four.
Ordinary Toyo women break in two.
Even trained kunoichi last a week at most.
He's every woman's nemesis.
In Zhendan, he's universally wanted. No one wants their women near him.
He unites sworn enemies—Zhendan, Donghu, and Montague—against him.
Even high and wood elves' intelligence agencies watch him; he wisely avoids elves.
Under his relentless lashes, Sophia lowers her head, tears falling.
-------------------------------------------------
Countess Chanel's Estate
"Little Zack's a noble now!" Anna mimics Sophia's tone.
"Stop mocking me!" Isaac snaps.
"Is the housing I provided unsatisfactory, Mister Isaac?" Countess Chanel, in a white Zhendan-style gown, smiles. Her gown blends Western and qipao elements: a tight upper body like a qipao, accentuating her curves, with a high collar and a golden decorative clasp. Symmetrical slits from collar to armpits mimic qipao side openings. Sleeveless, it shows her elegant shoulders, paired with white elbow-length gloves for a retro, refined look. Black floral embroidery adorns her chest and waist, adding vibrancy to the white gown. The lower half is a Western floor-length skirt, flowing from the waist for an elegant, leg-elongating effect, perfect for formal occasions.
Designed and crafted by Chanel, a skilled designer with deep Eastern and Western fashion knowledge, it reflects her artistic, noble taste.
Her black hair is woven into a complex, elegant chignon, with braided strands forming a tiered bun, adorned with a subtle gold accessory.
Her expression is poised, her gentle smile warm yet reserved, exuding calm confidence. Her clear, deep eyes, slightly mysterious, hold steady wisdom and resilience, pondering deeply without anxiety. Her relaxed brows and harmonious features blend nobility and tranquility.
Isaac blushes before the mature, elegant countess. "No, it's great!" As a Chanel family member, she provided him a room, elevating him from inn-dweller to noble.
She also registered him as a knight, trusting his character despite his lack of fealty, securing his title through the noble court.
"We have business with the Rosian, Countess. We're leaving," Isaac says, shy before her charm, especially after she adopted him into her family for saving her.
"Of course. Planning to save another lady, like you saved me?" Chanel teases, unwittingly hitting the mark.
"Miss Sophie is my savior. I hope you help her grow and protect her," Lady Lynn of Bourg's words echo in Isaac's mind.
Am I more mature than her, Lady Lynn? Is that what you meant?
Protect her… me, a nobody, protecting the world's mightiest female?
Isaac follows Anna out, where Sergei waits.
"Ura, why so slow?"
"Nothing," Isaac replies.
"Anna—" Isaac starts.
Anna, fully armed with her witch hunter hat, turns. "What?"
"Chanel just turned 29, and Sophia stopped aging at 28. Why is Chanel so mature and understanding, while Sophia… acts like a child?"
Anna smirks slyly. "Don't get it, Little Zack?"
"What?"
"Ever heard, 'the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom'?"
"Of course, who hasn't?"
"Wisdom isn't intelligence. It's learning from experience, spotting and avoiding danger. Zhendan demon hunters say, 'fall once, gain wisdom,' and 'a gentleman avoids a crumbling wall.'"
"So, Sophia never faced setbacks, so she doesn't see danger?"
"Exactly. A charmed life does that. Chanel, at 22, lost her family to a plague, leaving her alone."
"Really…"
"She bore her family's burden. Isaac, it's not just us 'losers' who struggle."
Isaac nods, realizing Anna speaks of herself too—alone since 14. He had parents, friends, kin; Anna had none.
"And that vampire can't even cook," Anna interrupts his thoughts. "Someone who teleports to her castle to bathe during adventures—how mature can she be?"
"Isaac, Mister Isaac!" A blonde girl waves. It's Vivian, daughter of a caravan leader they traveled with to Chitalia's Waterwheel Village.
Her father was killed by bandits, who hogtied her. Sophia saved them, though all credit Isaac.
"Vivian, what're you doing here?"
"My father's remaining estate is here. I run a tailor shop; it's doing well. Visit sometime, Mister Isaac."
Isaac smiles at Vivian, 165 cm, one of the few girls shorter than him.
"Looks like Mister Isaac's got charm, [eh, great hero?]" Anna says, emphasizing "great hero" with a fierce stare.
"Y-Yes… Mister Isaac saved me…" Vivian blushes.
"I'm Anna Belmont. This is Sergei, the Rosian—"
"Fighting nation, Sergei, ura ura!" Sergei interrupts.
"You were saved by the great hero too?" Vivian asks Anna.
"Yup, [great hero] [indeed]!" Anna's tone drips with sarcasm, her glare chilling Isaac.
"I'll call you sister!" Vivian hugs Anna, who blushes.
"What… sister?"
"Since my father died, I've been alone…"
"Sorry, I understand," Anna says, hugging her back, relating to her solitude.
"You're Elilan?" Sergei asks, knowing Vivian's story from Jane.
"No, why?"
"Ignore him. He's obsessed with Merlin, Arthur, and Lady of the Lake Vivian," Anna explains.
"Oh?" Isaac's confused. This Vivian is clearly Goulensian, not the Elilan Lady of the Lake.
Merlin… Sophia's magic teacher.
Sophia… Sophia…
"Idiot, why's your face so anxious?" Anna, done hugging Vivian, notices Isaac's expression.
"We gotta go—"
"We need allies first," Anna says confidently.
"What're you talking about?" Vivian asks.
"Nothing, Vivian. We'll part here, but I'll find you. We're your support," Anna assures.
"Thanks, Sister Anna!"
"Isaac, let's hit the tavern. Get adventurers' help," Anna says with a victorious grin.