Ravenna, now dressed in fresh clothes, stood on the castle balcony watching King Lyle approach. A cold sneer tugged at the corner of her lips.
After a moment, the faint creak of a door sounded, and a figure appeared at the entrance.
It was King Lyle.
"Your Majesty," Ravenna greeted softly, bowing her head.
"Well, Ravenna, are you settling in here?"
King Lyle stepped forward and drew her into his arms, his gaze filled with ambiguous intent.
At his boldness, a flash of anger crossed Ravenna's eyes.
"Your Majesty, you mustn't… We haven't even held the wedding yet," she protested, her voice laced with shyness.
"Oh, that's nothing. Tomorrow I'll declare you queen. One day early makes no difference," Lyle replied with a sly smile.
With that, his hands grew restless.
Ravenna tried to slip away with clever movements, but to her shock, Lyle's strength was overwhelming.
This unsettled her. Though she was a witch and lacked natural physical strength, her body had been enhanced after advancing through her life level. By now, her physical power far exceeded that of ordinary people.
For someone to suppress her so easily meant something unnatural was at work.
When she felt his hand about to tear through her dress, Ravenna's eyes flashed with fury. A sharp whistle split the air.
A stream of black liquid surged from beneath her feet, solidifying into a metallic spear that instantly impaled King Lyle.
But no blood flowed. Instead, Lyle only smiled strangely.
"Oh, my beauty… I saved you, and you repay me like this? How cruel."
Ravenna's face changed. "Who are you?"
"Hehe… it's only been half a year since we last met, and you've already forgotten me?"
The voice came from behind her.
When she turned, the King Lyle before her vanished.
"A mental illusion!" Horror struck Ravenna's eyes. Only then did she realize she had been caught in a spell of mental witchcraft.
By the time she reacted and forced her way out, it was already too late.
She found herself shackled in a secret chamber, bound to a metal platform engraved with glowing runes.
"Vlad… it's you," Ravenna said in shock.
"Well? Surprised?" Vlad smirked, his voice mocking.
"What do you want?! Let me go!"
Vlad sneered at her struggles. "Don't worry. I won't do anything to you."
He turned away. "I'll return in three days."
With that, he pressed a switch on the platform and left the chamber.
As the door closed, Ravenna's screams of pain echoed out.
Vlad smirked coldly. "I won't harm you—but punishment is necessary."
At first, enraged, he had wanted to kill her outright.
But upon reflection, Ravenna's strength was formidable. If she could be forced into submission, she would be a powerful ally against the Church.
This time, she had only fallen so easily because he caught her off guard, pulling her into a mental illusion.
In a fair fight, wary and alert, her mental power as a top witch would never have been so easily trapped.
Three days later, when Vlad returned, Ravenna lay pale and unconscious, her body weak and drained.
Water stains streaked the alchemy table beneath her.
Frowning, Vlad switched off the magic circle. The blue arcs crackling across the hovering metal arms above her body winked out instantly.
This device had been inspired by his visit to Adrianna's laboratory of biological anatomy.
With a snap of his fingers, a heavy splash of water struck Ravenna's face.
"Anything you want to say?" Vlad asked coldly.
She looked at him with complicated eyes. "Kill me, if you can."
"That's not the answer I want," Vlad replied flatly.
He pressed the switch again, raising the energy output.
"It seems I was too gentle before. You even take pleasure in this. How unfortunate. Your punishment is only beginning."
He left once more, her screams echoing behind him.
But in truth, Vlad was reclining comfortably on a soft sofa, swirling red wine in his glass. Calmly, he watched Ravenna writhe in a double-layered illusion.
Inside, she stood frozen, her face shifting between fear, intoxication, rage, despair, and defiance.
Each time she neared escape, Vlad's eyes glowed red, dragging her back into the illusion.
He intended to shatter her pride completely, forcing her surrender.
"Tsk, tsk… strong-willed indeed."
He raised the illusion's intensity again, drawing out her torment.
Then—
A sultry female voice whispered in his mind.
"Haha, little brother, you play so well. My sister likes it."
"Who's there?!"
Vlad stiffened in terror, every hair on his body rising.
The voice came from deep within his own consciousness.
The glowing cocoon of light that wrapped his mind began to melt like snow, revealing white spider silk.
In moments, the threads coiled around a woman's figure, weaving into a resplendent gown that shimmered faintly.
As she stepped forward, the sharp "tick-tock" of crystal heels echoed clearly.
She was flawless—a woman who could only be described as divine.
Her long legs gleamed pale beneath a platinum gown and crystal shoes.
At first glance, she exuded purity. But through the shoes' crystal clarity, her delicate toes gleamed red with lacquer, exuding seduction.
Pure yet sultry, holy yet sensual.
Vlad's eyes narrowed as she approached.
"Andariel…?" he muttered.
The woman he named smiled sweetly.
"Little brother, don't be nervous. My sister doesn't bite."
She licked her lips, revealing two sharp, fang-like teeth—like a spider's bite.
"Why are you in my sea of consciousness?" Vlad demanded, tense but cautious.
Since the Hellfire Demon King incident, he had learned the vast gulf between himself and such beings. Andariel, one of the Seven Demon Kings of the Dark World, was far beyond him.
But the woman only laughed. "Who told you I was Andariel?"
"Isn't that so?" Doubt flickered in his eyes.
"Yes… and no." She circled him with light steps, her tone playful. "Ah… freedom feels wonderful."
Then she stopped, staring into his eyes.
"Hey, Vlad, is this how you treat your savior?"
"You… you saved me last time?" he asked, stunned. He had suspected, but hadn't dared believe.
"Of course. Without me, you'd already be dead." She waved her hand arrogantly. "But don't thank me. Just think of it as rent for the room. I'm fair like that."
Vlad coughed awkwardly, lowering his guard slightly. "Ahem… then thank you, for saving me."
"Hmph, that's better."
Her tone softened. "I am not Andariel. She was slain thousands of years ago by a ten-winged archangel named Raphael—the leader of Xifa, the Arrogant Path, and others of that generation."
"I am only a spider egg she shed before her death, carrying a fragment of her power and legacy."
She tapped her lips thoughtfully, then her eyes lit up with delight.
"Ah! You can call me Rose. Isn't that a lovely name?"
"Rose…?" Vlad's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling.
Rose. Could this woman before him truly be the future Spider Queen, Rose?
...
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