Near the town of Yodel, a shadowed cave loomed like a shroud over the world’s darkest secrets.
A murky river snaked through its depths, carrying bound men and women, their hands and feet tethered.
Glowing crystals studded the walls, casting a feeble light—too weak to pierce the suffocating gloom, no matter how fiercely the sun’s rays might try.
A piercing scream shattered the silence.
“No! Celiasya, wake up!”
A man with chestnut hair, clad in finely crafted armor, stood amidst a grim tableau of seven or eight fallen bodies—henchmen of Black Boar Pete, all burly men now sprawled on the ground.
Some were dead, others writhed in agony, while a few cursed loudly, pleading for their comrades to drag them away.
Their broken forms were a testament to the chestnut-haired man’s strength.
Yet, for all his might, he was defeated.
Arrows protruded from his battered plate armor, but the deadliest wound gaped beneath his armpit, blood pouring through his clutching fingers, unstoppable as a river’s current.
He raised a trembling hand toward his beloved comrade, black blood dripping from his fingertips.
His arm shook, but he reached for her still, yearning to pull her back into his embrace, where she would smile as she always had, warm and radiant in his arms.
But his comrade—Celiasya, the woman with honey-colored skin—stood unmoved.
Her arm remained raised, faint wisps of smoke curling from her palm where a burst of magical energy had just erupted.
Her once-lovely eyes, now clouded with an unnatural pink haze, flickered with confusion at his gesture.
The chestnut-haired man grasped at hope like a drowning man clutching straw.
“Wake up, Celiasya! You know me, my love!”
Celiasya’s black fox ears twitched as if stirring from a nightmare.
Her pupils quivered, like a fly struggling to free itself from sticky honey.
Then, a grotesque figure lumbered forward—a mountain of flesh, bloated and obscene.
Black Boar Pete placed his pudgy hands on Celiasya’s shoulders, his tongue slithering across her honeyed cheek as he purred, “Well, well, what a powerful and beautiful valkyrie. She’ll be my bedmate, my broodmare, my personal guard.”
The chestnut-haired man roared, “You filthy swine! Get your hands off her!”
Laughter erupted from the surrounding brutes, their crossbows gleaming in the dim light.
They relished the spectacle.
“Nice one, boss! Never gets old!” one crowed.
“That black-skinned vixen, heh, she’s a prize. You’re gonna have a hell of a time!” another jeered.
Black Boar Pete grinned, his voice oily.
“Her name’s too long. From now on, she’s just Xiaoya.”
Celiasya’s arm trembled as clarity fought to surface.
“No… my name…”
Pete produced a small pink perfume bottle and blew a puff of mist toward her face.
The pink vapor curled into her flat nose, and she gasped, her expression melting into one of blissful surrender, as if she’d ascended to paradise.
Pete’s thick, wet lips hovered near her fluffy fox ear, his breath hot and vile.
“Listen to my voice, darling, and you’ll find endless pleasure. Don’t fight it. I know what you crave.”
In full view of his men, he slid a fat hand across her honey-colored thigh, wiping away a sheen of sweat before gripping it possessively.
Celiasya’s eyes fluttered shut, her lashes quivering.
“Yes, my love,” she murmured.
“What’s your name?”
“Xiaoya. Give me more, and I’ll do anything for you.”
“Celiasya, wake up!”
The chestnut-haired man stumbled forward, fury and desperation driving him.
“I’ll kill you!”
No one stopped him.
The brutes just laughed, savoring the show.
Pete licked the inside of Celiasya’s fox ear, making it twitch.
He whispered, “Take him down, Xiaoya. Don’t kill him. That’s your master’s order.”
Without hesitation, the air around her right hand warped, and with a thunderous boom, a distortion struck the chestnut-haired man’s chest.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he collapsed, sprawling backward on the cold stone.
“Celiasya! Celiasya!” he gasped, clawing at the ground, his voice a broken plea as he called her name.
“Bring the collar,” Pete commanded, extending a hand.
“Make sure it’s got tags for ‘guard’ and ‘bed.’”
A black-stockinged maid with a generous figure approached, her own collar adorned with tags marking her as “cow” and “bed.”
She handed Pete a new collar, which he passed to Celiasya.
“Want it? Put it on. Your master commands it.”
Her eyes gleamed with a feverish light as she smiled and fastened the collar around her neck, its tags—a bed and a shield—clinking softly.
Pete slapped her rear, pulling her close as they walked.
“Xiaoya, you’ll learn more tricks, and your tags will multiply. Heh.”
“Master, when will you give me… give me…”
“Soon, darling. But don’t pester me until I say so.”
“Celiasya… Celiasya…”
The chestnut-haired man dragged himself across the ground, his trembling hand reaching toward Pete.
“What do we do with him, boss?” one of the brutes asked.
“Lock him up. Patch him up good,” Pete said with a sneer.
“Tonight, I’ll teach Xiaoya some bedmate tricks right in front of him. Let him stew.”
A heart-wrenching cry tore from the man’s throat.
“Celiasya!”
She didn’t turn, didn’t flinch, as if his voice were nothing but a breeze.
The brutes roared with laughter, some leering at Xiaoya’s shorts, her honeyed thighs exposed.
“Boss, when you’re done with her, let the boys have a turn!” one called.
“Yeah, let’s breed her!” another added.
Pete’s voice cut through.
“Xiaoya, pick one of them to kill.”
“Yes, Master,” she replied without hesitation.
“No, boss, I was wrong—argh!”
“Listen up,” Pete snapped.
“I call the shots. Don’t bother me. The other one, bury the body. Oh, and Xiaoya?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Clean your ears. The wax on your fur tastes bitter.”
“Yes, Master.”
They emerged from the cave’s oppressive darkness into the sunlit grounds of a sprawling manor.
Pete was about to strip down and “help” Xiaoya bathe when a frantic voice interrupted.
“Boss, trouble!”
“Ten lashes for not knocking,” Pete growled.
“But the legendary dragon-slaying hero, Richard, is here!” the messenger stammered.
“And he’s got a cute little girl with dragon horns—might even be a dragon!”
“Who’s he after?”
“You, boss!”
“Really?”
“Swear it’s true—he said so himself!”
Pete’s eyes glinted, his tongue flicking across his lips.
“Good. I’ll lay low for now, but this could be my chance. My world, my rules. A washed-up dragon slayer thinks he can challenge me?”
He shot a glance at the messenger.
“You know what to do.”
“Yes, boss! I’ll take the lashes!”
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