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Seventh-Tier Spell—Mjölnir.
At Freya's cry, the world was swallowed in darkness.
Thunderclouds blotted out the sky, burying the heavens beneath their weight.
Then it struck.
A pillar of lightning tore down from the heavens, immense and devastating, crashing toward Edgar.
"Oh… that's already about the level of an upper-class demon," Edgar murmured. His eyes glimmered faintly, magic already sparking in his palm.
A beam of pure mana roared upward, smashing head-on into the descending thunder.
Boom!
The instant they met, the air rippled like water. Shockwaves rolled out in every direction, shredding the countless ice sculptures nearby into dust.
And then—just like that—the thunder shattered.
The dark clouds overhead were pierced clean through by Edgar's spell.
Freya's teeth clenched as she watched. Her body moved on instinct, magic already gathering again.
"A mere demon? Someone like you could never be my match."
"Fine. I'll show you my strongest spell."
Seventh-Tier Spell—Inferno.
The sky blazed with a burning light. A miniature sun bloomed above, then came screaming down like a meteor.
"It's pointless. Haven't you realized the difference between us yet?"
Edgar shook his head and flicked another beam of mana into the sky.
Boom!
The beam and the burning star collided, detonating in an explosion so loud it rattled the bones.
A tidal wave of heat and force swept across the battlefield. The ground split open, collapsing into gaping chasms, while a storm of dust blotted out the world.
Freya cursed under her breath. "This monster…"
Even her Inferno—her strongest spell—had done nothing. If she kept this up, she would die here.
So she turned and fled, body rising into the air as she streaked across the horizon.
But even as she raced away, a cold voice brushed her ear.
"Did I say you could leave?"
A glowing magic circle flared into being. Power slammed down like an invisible hammer.
Crash!
Freya's body hit the ground hard, crumpling before Edgar's feet.
"What's wrong? Weren't you going to make me your plaything, Princess?"
Chains materialized and wound around her, yanking her upright. Her pristine, elegant dress creased under their grip, outlining every curve of her body.
"Whoever you are, you'd better release me! Jioral Kingdom will never forgive this."
Even as a captive, Freya's voice was defiant, ringing with fury.
Edgar only smiled, patting her pale cheek. "Looks like our proud little princess still hasn't figured out the situation."
"Well… I'm sure you'll understand soon enough."
His words had barely faded before her white garments tore apart with a sharp rip.
Freya's eyes widened in shock. Edgar's fingertip touched her bare skin, a drop of golden blood glistening there.
"So hot…" she gasped, her breath catching. A strange, alien heat was racing through her veins. Her heart pounded faster. Her blood boiled.
An itching sensation spread along her spine, down to her tailbone.
Her skin rippled.
With a tearing sound, a pair of black wings burst from her back.
And from just above her hips, a slender tail tipped with a heart-shaped barb uncoiled into the air.
"What did you do to me?"
Freya's face twisted with fury as she hissed, "You—you turned me into one of those filthy demons!"
"I'll kill you. I'll kill you a hundred—ahhh!"
Her threats broke apart into a scream of agony.
Freya's whole body convulsed, shuddering violently as if some invisible current was tearing through her. The pain wasn't just in her flesh but deep in her soul, driving her to the edge of madness.
Snap.
Edgar flicked his fingers, and the chains binding her vanished. He turned his gaze to her new status screen.
[Freya Elgrand Jioral]
[Race: Demon]
[Master: Edgar Lucifergus]
[Level: 38]
[Skill: Hero of Magic]
[Hero of Magic: You can cast spells above your level. All magic costs are reduced by half.]
"Not bad," Edgar murmured with a nod.
Even with infinite regeneration, his mana pool had limits. If she could cut the cost of spells in half, that meant she could unleash far more magic in a short burst. Definitely useful.
Then he looked down at Freya, writhing on the floor in agony.
"So, Your Highness," he said, his tone mocking, "how does it feel? Do you finally understand the suffering you once so casually inflicted on others?"
Freya's tears spilled down her face. She didn't understand what exactly had been done to her, but she knew—without question—that it was Edgar's doing.
She grabbed weakly at his pant leg, her voice ragged.
"P-please… save me. I swear on the Kingdom of Jioral itself—if you save me, I won't ever come after you."
Her words were broken, each syllable dragged out through gritted teeth, trembling under unbearable torment.
Edgar gave a small, cold smile.
"Don't bother bringing up your kingdom. That means nothing to me."
He held something up in his hand. "But yes, there is an antidote. Whether you use it or not… that's entirely your choice."
Freya's eyes widened in fear as she stared at the so-called cure. Her voice cracked with panic.
"N-no… I can't… how could I ever stoop to something so filthy, so—ahhh!"
Her refusal dissolved into another scream.
"If you don't want to die screaming, I'd suggest you stop glaring at me with all that hatred," Edgar said softly. "Of course, the choice is still yours."
He wasn't in any rush. If she really had the willpower to resist him all the way to death, he'd almost admire it. But given her sadistic streak, this torment was a fitting punishment.
And yet, despite her protests, Freya dragged herself toward him, crawling like a broken dog.
Edgar chuckled. "Seems your body's a lot more honest than your pride, Princess."
He stepped forward and placed a hand on her head, watching her quietly.
Distrusting him, Freya only dared to try the antidote in the smallest, most cautious sip.
It was… like water. No taste, no smell.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. The pain actually began to lessen.
Good… good. Damn you, you wretched demon. Just you wait. Once I recover, I'll carve you into pieces.
But the moment that hatred flared, it was swallowed by an even greater surge of agony. Her head jerked back, eyes wide, her throat locked so tight she couldn't even speak.
"That's not how you use it," Edgar sighed. "Honestly, what a pain. Guess I'll have to do it for you."
She had chosen, after all. And he couldn't just let his newly bound servant die like this.
With his guidance, the "antidote" unlocked properly. Slowly, steadily, Freya began to adapt, though every flicker of malice in her mind was burned away by the backlash until her thoughts grew blurred and empty.
Her once-proud eyes dulled into a vacant haze.
"..."
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