“SLAM!!!” Cracks like spiderwebs radiated outward around Theresa’s embedded form, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Theresa’s consciousness was rattled into a daze by a surge of searing pain.
For a moment, it was as if she glimpsed her departed parents amidst a white haze, waving to her by a riverbank.
The blood she wanted to retch up from her lacerated organs was stuck in her throat, unable to emerge.
Even though Ecaros had already released her grip, Theresa was utterly incapable of rising.
Every bone in her body felt shattered.
She could only let out agonized, wretched whimpers from her throat, like a dying whelp.
It hurts so much…
Am I…
going to die?
Father…
Mother…
have you come for me…?
Her pale golden eyes lost focus, slightly dilating.
Even her slender tail lay limp to the side, occasionally twitching feebly.
And Ecaros, who had caused all of this, merely watched the half-dead Theresa impassively, wiping her dust-stained gloves.
“Remember, you are nothing but a slave.
Recognize your own place, Theresa.” “Do not overstep without my permission.
This is but a small warning.
As your master, I do not hope for a next time.” This strike had been enough to kill Theresa, but that was by no means the outcome Ecaros desired.
Thus, she had pulled her strength back at the final instant, sparing Theresa’s life for now.
Seeing that Theresa was already incapable of responding, Ecaros gently lifted the twelve-year-old Theresa with both hands and cradled her in her arms, expressionlessly examining her injuries.
“I don’t actually wish to harm you.
But the prerequisite is that you respect me.” After inspecting the damage to Theresa’s body, Ecaros began casting a few simple healing Arts upon her.
Only when Theresa’s body had mostly recovered and those pale golden eyes gradually refocused did Ecaros halt the Arts.
Enduring the backlash from overusing her Originium powers, she soundlessly wiped the fine sweat from her brow and spoke her final words to Theresa, who had, in truth, remained conscious all along.
“I hope this lesson is sufficiently memorable.” “Otherwise, if something truly unfortunate happens in the future, I imagine it would be a sight neither you nor I wish to see, Theresa.” As she spoke, Ecaros also gently wiped the dust from Theresa’s face and the bloodstains from the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief.
Those pale golden eyes held coldness but also a hint of sincerity.
The delicate touch was as considerate and tender as wiping sweat from a lover’s brow.
But to Theresa, it felt nothing short of nauseating.
To be honest, Ecaros had originally only intended to give Theresa a stomachache as a warning.
But unfortunately, Theresa’s counterattack had sealed her fate, forcing Ecaros to escalate the punishment.
Ecaros hadn’t wanted to do this.
Yet as a Duchess—even if no one was watching—she still had to uphold her own authority.
This was one of her bottom lines.
And it was also something Ecaros needed Theresa to understand, now that she was in her possession.
But Theresa was destined never to comprehend Ecaros’ thoughts.
She felt only fury.
In her mind, she’d done nothing; she’d even introduced herself properly and still received a brutal beating.
She’d nearly died.
It would be abnormal for her not to be angry.
Ultimately, she was a Sarkaz.
The ferocity in her blood was naturally awakened after being harmed.
But Theresa was also clever enough.
She knew she couldn’t let it show, so she buried that anger deep inside her heart.
Ecaros glanced at Theresa, noting the emotion hidden in her eyes, but pretended not to see it.
She withdrew her gaze and continued to gently wipe the grime from the girl’s face.
She naturally understood that the girl harbored resentment and grievances toward her.
She might even be cursing her in her heart.
But she didn’t care.
So long as Theresa never actually gave voice to those insolent thoughts, Ecaros would do nothing about them.
This was a privilege Ecaros granted to Theresa.
Had it been anyone else, there would likely be a well-fed family of rats in the sewers of Londinium the very next day.
And once Ecaros’ handkerchief had practically become a soiled rag, Theresa’s fair little face was finally cleaned of all dirt.
It had to be admitted—even before fully blossoming, Theresa was beautiful enough to make Ecaros momentarily lose herself, silently deepening her inner yearning for the girl.
Of course, this was definitely the simulated Ecaros’ fault.
It had nothing to do with the real her.
Nevertheless, this beauty cemented Ecaros’ determination to play a ‘game’ with Theresa.
Because, compared to simply possessing Theresa’s body, Ecaros now wanted to capture her soul and heart along with it—to imprison her by her side forever.
And so, for the sake of this tantalizing prize, Ecaros placed her chips upon the scale.
“Theresa, I bought you so you could stay by my side, peacefully.” “But as things stand, you certainly won’t follow me willingly…
How about this—we can play a game.
If you win, you gain your freedom and a sum of wealth.
If you lose, you will remain by my side forever.
What do you say?” Her index finger gently brushed Theresa’s fair cheek, making the girl in her arms want to bite down on that finger to vent her fury.
Ecaros suppressed a momentary impulse to simply take Theresa outright, and placed this bargain before her.
“In this game, I will grant you one chance to challenge me, every month of every year…” “Assassination, poison, Originium Arts, accidents…
anything goes.
But remember—once you fail, you must attend to me in complete obedience for one full day, and for the remaining month, stay by my side wholeheartedly as a slave.” “And so long as you do not give up, I guarantee this game shall continue, until the day a victor is decided.” “Do you…
dare to accept?” Ecaros’ voice was like a devil’s whisper, slipping into Theresa’s mind alongside a warm, tingling sensation at her ear.
It had to be admitted—the game Ecaros proposed was genuinely tempting.
Theresa also knew she had no real choice.
Ecaros’ earlier display of strength had made the gap between them crystal clear.
Other than accepting this game, there was no alternative.
Though…
it also aligned with Theresa’s own intentions.
She would make Ecaros pay for her arrogance.
Theresa would let her feel her wrath.
Because this game, in Theresa’s eyes, was nothing but a show of utter contempt for her.
To her, Ecaros had proposed it precisely because she believed Theresa could never kill her.
The other party simply wanted to watch her flounder in defeat, to torment her and sate her twisted desires.
It had to be said—Ecaros’ arrogance and attitude had truly angered Theresa.
Perhaps a century later, Theresa would be a gentle, composed, far-sighted, and merciful Sarkaz King.
But now, still young and having long protected her elder brother, Theresa was just an ordinary child, carrying a courage that adults lacked.
So even though Ecaros had nearly killed her moments ago, Theresa still dared to feel fury—even murderous intent—toward her.
Thus, Theresa chose to meet Ecaros’ renewed gaze.
She nodded, her pale golden eyes, tinged with faint killing intent, fixed intently on Ecaros, conveying her absolute resolve to win—which meant her absolute resolve to kill her.
“A fine look in your eyes…” Ecaros chuckled softly, tolerably satisfied with Theresa’s performance.
After all, the thrill of taming a beast came from its untamed pride.
She did not dislike Theresa’s feelings of hatred and fury toward her.
Then, ignoring the little one’s expression, Ecaros asked: “Can you stand on your own now?” Hearing this, Theresa took stock of her body, which had felt nearly shattered before.
Miraculously, it no longer hurt at all.
In fact, she felt even more at ease than when Ecaros had first bought her—reminding Theresa of the days back when she was still in her village.
This was clearly Ecaros’ doing.
Realizing this, Theresa’s killing intent toward her dimmed slightly.
Though Ecaros was not a good person—she looked down on her and had nearly beaten her to death—Theresa had to admit, Ecaros wasn’t truly vile either.
Otherwise, she’d probably still be struggling on the ground.
But that didn’t mean Theresa would willingly remain a slave for life.
She would still continue this game, still attempt to kill Ecaros.
At most, if she truly managed to kill Ecaros in the future, she’d let her die with a little dignity.
Thinking thus, Theresa nodded, then allowed herself to be set down on the ground by an expressionless Ecaros.
Though…
oddly enough, the moment she left Ecaros’ warm, soft embrace and her feet touched the cold earth, a sense of inexplicable loss flickered through Theresa’s heart.
But it was quickly crowded out by thoughts of killing Ecaros, and her subtly shifting expression swiftly cooled again.
Theresa would never admit that Ecaros’ embrace had been warm and soft—even if it was the truth.
Beside her, Ecaros watched Theresa’s amusing little expressions shift, and that adorable tail swish back and forth.
A faint smile unmistakably curved her lips.
Then, lifting her cane, she turned and withdrew the sound-barrier of her Arts.
Before stepping back into the carriage, she said, offhandedly: “Oh, right.
Remember—do not tell your brother anything about this game.
And, by the way, if you’re looking for water, you should find some about fifty meters to the east.” “Go early and return early.
Kazdel’s nights are cold.” With that, Ecaros walked back into the carriage.
Behind her, having heard Ecaros’ words, Theresa stood momentarily frozen, watching Ecaros’ silhouette illuminated by the last remnants of sunset.
The fury and the urge to kill inexplicably dissipated by a large measure.
The spot near her ear where the other had lightly nipped felt faintly warm.
But in the end, Theresa merely rubbed the bruising fingerprint marks on her neck.
Her slightly bewildered expression turned cold, and her heart calmed.
She couldn’t quite figure out what Ecaros truly meant.
Why had she acted so arrogantly and infuriatingly at first, yet displayed something almost like gentleness?
Was this a momentary mockery, or Ecaros’ true feelings?
Caught in confusion, Theresa felt she could hardly tell what Ecaros wanted anymore.
And the fact that Ecaros could speak the ancient Sarkaz tongue—she now realized Ecaros must have overheard her conversation with her brother.
It made her recall how the previously bumpy carriage ride had suddenly steadied at that moment.
To be honest, Theresa had thought it was just good luck and paid it no mind.
But now, it seemed that had been an intentional deceleration by Ecaros.
Just like how they had now stopped near a water source.
It suddenly made Theresa unable to see through Ecaros’ thoughts at all.
Was it a form of kindness, or deliberate manipulation?
Theresa didn’t know…
But having thought so much, she found herself unable to muster much anger toward Ecaros anymore—nor killing intent.
But…
even if she didn’t understand Ecaros’ thoughts, Theresa understood one thing: only by killing her could she gain her freedom.
So all she needed to do was kill her.
But for now…
…Seeing as she still had a conscience, and wasn’t entirely detestable, beating her half to death would probably be enough.
Uncertainly thinking thus, Theresa walked somewhat distractedly toward the small river not far away, carrying the little kettle Ecaros had left behind.
Ecaros, meanwhile, returned to the carriage and had Theresis bring out the black tea she had steeped beforehand.
While reading her book, she casually teased the boy, then freely handed over half the pot to the eagerly watching Theresis.
Outside the carriage, the afterglow of sunset, accompanied by the braying of the pack-beasts, was replaced by the bright moon and clusters of stars.
The yellow sands and dust of Kazdel drifted gently, as if bidding farewell to a child of this land, or perhaps silently foretelling the future that would unfold years later.
[First-Person Observation Mode ended.
Simulation continuing.]