“…?”
“What were you planning to do if I'd used it?”
At Sarah's anxious question, Enoch merely smiled and adjusted his grip on his sword.
His lips curved gently, but there was not the slightest trace of a smile in his eyes.
It was the same expression he had worn when he beheaded the slave trader earlier.
That alone was answer enough.
Faced with that smile, Sarah felt as though the ground beneath her feet were crumbling away, plunging her into an abyss.
I almost got myself killed…
Then came relief.
Thank goodness her magic had failed. Thank goodness her soul was damaged. Thank goodness the Holy Sword had wounded her…
Never before had Sarah been so grateful for her inability to use magic.
“Ugh…!”
But her relief was short-lived.
Enoch, who had been watching her carefully, suddenly seized her by the neck.
Pain throbbed through the delicate flesh beneath his fingers, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
“I feel like I could just kill you right now.”
Enoch blinked as though fascinated by the thought and tightened his grip.
As though he genuinely intended to strangle her.
“Ugh…”
A muffled groan escaped Sarah's lips.
The pain wasn't yet unbearable, but she desperately seized his large hand with both of hers, trying to pry his fingers from her throat.
Naturally, she was nowhere near strong enough.
Whether deliberately or unconsciously, Enoch continued tightening his grip.
Before long, Sarah was struggling to breathe, gasping desperately for air.
Trapped in his grasp and unable to free herself, she could only cough helplessly.
Enoch watched her struggle without so much as blinking.
Only when her face had turned completely red did he finally loosen his grip, as though questioning whether she truly wasn't the person he suspected.
“Gasp… Cough! Cough…!”
Finally able to breathe, Sarah doubled over in a violent coughing fit.
Enoch stepped forward as though nothing had happened and patted her hunched back.
Rip!
Then he tore her clothes apart.
“…?!”
By the time Sarah realized what had happened, a cold draft was already brushing against the exposed skin below her neck.
Whistle.
Enoch gave a high whistle as he surveyed her pale, naked body.
“You crazy bastard!”
Startled out of her wits, Sarah dashed toward the nearest window and snatched the curtain around herself.
Unfortunately, the delicate lace was far too sheer to conceal her body properly.
Enoch's low, vulgar chuckle made it unmistakably clear that he was enjoying the sight of her shapely backside.
“Wh-what are you…!”
Utterly flustered, Sarah could barely form the words.
“How can it look exactly the same?”
Ignoring her protests, Enoch approached again and abruptly lifted her chin.
He examined her face from close range, his eyes filled with nothing but curiosity.
Then, as though inspecting some fascinating animal, he seized her waist and turned her around.
Sarah was spun about before she could resist, and the curtain she had wrapped around herself as her last line of defense slipped away.
Both earlier and now, he had stripped things from her as casually as peeling the wrapper off a piece of candy. It certainly didn't seem as though this was unfamiliar territory for him.
With a startled gasp, Sarah clutched the curtain tightly in both hands.
If nothing else, she was determined to keep her front covered.
Fortunately, Enoch seemed interested only in her back and made no attempt to snatch away the fabric she was holding.
Instead, he slowly ran a hand down her exposed back and smiled.
“Even the mole here is exactly the same.”
“…?!”
He spoke almost to himself, yet loud enough for her to hear.
A chill ran down Sarah's spine.
Why? How on earth does he know about that?
Horrified, she shoved him away and snapped.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?! Seriously! You think saving my life once means you own me?!”
“…?”
Enoch's eyes widened as though inviting her to continue.
Then he pressed his sword against her neck.
The blade scraped carelessly against her skin, making her feel as though her throat might be sliced open at any moment.
Sarah, who had been shouting furiously only an instant earlier, immediately changed her tune.
“…If you thought I was going to say something like that, you've misunderstood. Life is precious. Absolutely precious. Thank you so very much.”
Faced with her absurdly sudden display of obedience, Enoch gave her a look that seemed to say, That's what I thought.
For some reason, however, he also looked disappointed.
“Slave.”
“Yes!”
With the blade still hovering at her neck, Sarah answered without a moment's hesitation.
She looked up at Enoch with wide, innocent eyes, wearing the expression of someone willing to obey his every command.
She looked ready to lick his feet if he ordered her to.
Gazing down at his apparently devoted slave, Enoch issued his next command in a languid voice.
“Say, ‘Sarah Rosenbaum, you bastard.’”
“…What?”
It was certainly easier than licking his feet, but perhaps every bit as humiliating.
Sarah clenched her teeth, struggling to keep her expression under control, and tilted her head in feigned confusion.
“What… does that mean?”
Now that I've survived the black magic test, is he testing my beliefs?
Sarah suppressed her thoughts about what a dreadful man he had become and waited for an answer, maintaining her innocent expression.
“I told you to say it.”
Once again, Enoch offered no explanation. He simply repeated his demand, as though challenging her to prove she had nothing to hide.
Confronted with yet another test she couldn't escape, Sarah murmured in a voice that dwindled almost to nothing.
“…Ro-Rosenbaum, you bastard.”
Omitting her first name and uttering only Rosenbaum was the last scrap of pride she could preserve.
One day, I'll make you pay for this humiliation.
A thirst for revenge stirred within Sarah, fiercer than anything she had felt even when she had actually died.
“I can't hear you. Louder.”
Unsatisfied, Enoch demanded that she shout the insult.
He even picked casually at his ear as he waited, making it seem as though forcing people to do such things was nothing new to him.
The thought that he might have seized other people and made them insult her in the same way only fueled Sarah's irritation.
“Rosenbaum, you bastard! Rosenbaum, you bastard!”
Now thoroughly enraged, Sarah shouted at the top of her lungs, the veins standing out in her neck.
She was so loud that even the horses nearby startled and neighed in protest.
She repeated the phrase again and again, as though it were the only thing she knew how to say, until she was breathless and could barely speak.
At the very end, she stole a glance at Enoch and shouted what she truly wanted to say.
“Bastard!”
You bastard! Do you really have to make a dead woman say something like this?!
Having shouted until her throat hurt, Sarah stood panting as she struggled to catch her breath.
Only then did she glare resentfully at Enoch, her expression asking, Are you satisfied now?
“…”
She had expected him to be pleased that she had obeyed.
To her surprise, however, Enoch's habitual smile had vanished entirely.
“You…”
After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice unusually serious.
“You really aren't that woman after all.”
Sarah couldn't understand how this could possibly serve as proof, but at last, he seemed inclined to believe she wasn't the woman he suspected.
“Well, resurrection is impossible anyway.”
Finally setting aside his suspicions, the hero lowered his sword from his slave's neck.
Then he smiled, his eyes crinkling with what appeared to be genuine happiness.
“Thank goodness.”
“…”
Sarah found herself momentarily speechless at the sight of his obvious relief that he hadn't encountered her.
She wasn't exactly delighted to see Enoch Soser again either, but watching him rejoice so openly at the thought that she wasn't Sarah Rosenbaum left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Granted, the two of them had never gotten along, but surely he could at least have pretended to feel a little regret.
As soon as he lowered his sword, Enoch turned away and began rummaging through the house.
Before long, he returned with a pitch-black dress and pulled it over Sarah's head.
“Ah! That hurts!”
His movements were so clumsy that he clearly wasn't accustomed to dressing someone. Rather than helping her into the garment, he simply tried to force it on.
“Ouch! Get away from me! I'll put it on myself!”
Sarah roughly brushed his hands aside, hurriedly dressed herself, and shot him a furious glare.
“All right, let's go. Time for you to repay the favor.”
Enoch waited until she had finished dressing before seizing her wrist and leading her outside.
Sarah was determined not to let Enoch Soser see how flustered he made her, but she simply couldn't get used to his habit of grabbing her whenever he pleased.
To her surprise, he led her to the stables.
What? Where are we going now?
They had only just arrived at the guild, yet it seemed they were about to embark on another journey.
Sarah's steps faltered at the prospect.
Ignoring her reluctance, Enoch lifted her onto the only horse remaining in the stable and mounted behind her.
Before Sarah could even settle herself properly, he snapped the reins and urged the horse into a gallop.
“Eek?!”
Had Enoch not caught her around the waist from behind, she would have fallen straight off the horse and probably ended up back in hell.
Sarah could barely think as the scenery rushed past and the wind roared in her ears.
Although Enoch could plainly see how much she was struggling, he showed no sign of slowing down.
Sarah had never been comfortable on horseback to begin with, and the animal's constant jolting made the ride nearly unbearable.
Worse still, Enoch had given her a thin summer dress, leaving her shivering in the cold.
Everything about the journey was uncomfortable, but the worst of it was the hard saddle pressing against her backside.
Perhaps he had placed her on the horse too hastily, leaving her seated in the wrong position. Whatever the reason, the pressure against her backside was becoming increasingly unbearable.
“Hey! Stop for a moment! The saddle's too hard against my backside!”
Unable to endure the discomfort any longer, Sarah called out to Enoch, asking him to stop for a moment.
At her complaint about how hard and uncomfortable it felt, Enoch burst out laughing.
Still chuckling, he replied, “That's not the saddle, you know.”
“…What?”
If it's not the saddle, then what…?
The moment Sarah considered the other possibility, she realized what was pressing against her backside, and her face flushed crimson.
“You lecherous bastard! You're rubbing that thing against me—mmph!”
Sarah was still furiously protesting when her mouth was suddenly covered, making her eyes widen in shock. Enoch was her master, and she was his slave, so he had the authority to silence her whenever he pleased. Even so, she had never imagined he would actually do it.
“…!”
Least of all with his lips.
“Mmph!”
Sarah gasped in surprise, and the moment she reflexively drew breath, a hot tongue thrust between her parted lips.