A silver flash wove through the forest, fireballs occasionally soaring after it. The air around each warped visibly—proof of their searing heat. Yet the silver figure dodged them all with ease.
“Go, Nefu!”
Ophelia cupped her hands like a megaphone, cheering toward the petite figure on the clearing ahead.
*So noisy.* A few veins throbbed faintly on Nefu’s smooth forehead. If only Ophelia weren’t standing there, she’d have ended this beast long ago.
The silver figure landed. Dust swirled—and a massive wolf materialized before Nefu. Its eyes flicked to Ophelia. Seeing no movement, it shifted its gaze back… then narrowed with disdain at Nefu’s matching silver hair.
*As long as that human female stays put, I’ll crush this tiny pest.*
Nefu’s eyes flashed with cold intent.
This was a Silver Moon Wolf—encountered by chance. Nefu had expected a swift fight, but Ophelia simply watched. Left alone, Nefu struggled.
The wolf possessed a rare racial trait: magic immunity. A nightmare for a mage like her.
Yet its physical defense was weak. A sharp blade would pierce its hide easily. Nefu could’ve shaped a knife from her Mimics-active skin—but with Ophelia watching, she couldn’t use Mimics.
She held a dagger, yet couldn’t land a single hit.
Claw marks had already scored her skin, but her super regeneration hid all traces. Still… Ophelia would notice eventually. She couldn’t risk exposure.
Seeing her maid falter, Ophelia flicked her fingers.
“My dear, battle experience takes time. Watch how your master handles this.”
A flame sprouted in her palm.
The wolf let out a panicked howl and turned to flee—but Ophelia gave no quarter.
Two fire pillars shot up, blocking escape. A blazing cage descended, pinning the beast firmly.
Harmless flames, yes—but a small figure now approached.
Nefu stood before the wolf, dagger in hand, face blank. Her pupils had shifted to vertical slits. The wolf whimpered, trying to beg…
“Nefu. Do it.”
“Yes, Master…”
A cold gleam flashed—the blade sank deep.
“Little Nefu, handle the butchering. We’re having roasted wolf for lunch.”
“Yes.”
At the water’s edge, Nefu didn’t slice meat first. She slit the chest, pulled out the heart, and—without hesitation—bit down. Swallowed. Wiped the blood from her lips with a blank expression.
She stared at her palm. Magic surged. Her skin turned silvery-white.
A faint smile touched her lips. After Seri’s innate magic… a new ability.
Magic immunity. A possible lifeline under Ophelia’s thumb.
“Little Nefu, done? My stomach’s growling!”
“Coming, Master!”
Nefu’s own stomach rumbled. She hurried back—only to meet Ophelia’s reproachful gaze. Clearly, she’d waited too long.
“My dear, sit here. I’ll roast it.” Ophelia patted the stump beside her, smiling.
“Yes.”
The moment Nefu’s bottom touched the wood—vines lashed out, binding her tightly to a nearby tree.
“Master, this—”
Darkness covered her eyes.
“Today’s performance wasn’t quite good enough, my dear~”
Ophelia held a roasted strip before her. The rich aroma teased Nefu’s senses; her tongue slipped out unconsciously.
“Want it? Try harder.”
Nefu leaned forward instinctively—but the scent hovered just out of reach.
“Hehe… so eager. But I’m hungry too~” Ophelia’s cheeks flushed. She bit one end of the meat and leaned close.
“How about sharing? Half for you, half for me?”
“Plenty more where that came from. I’ll feed you… mouth to mouth, of course~”
…
By afternoon, Nefu returned, rubbing her slightly swollen belly—filled with Ophelia’s “affection.”
Ophelia suddenly stopped, ruffling Nefu’s hair.
“My dear, head home first. I have business.”
“Yes.”
“Remember—don’t wander. Our Nefu is the most obedient.”
*A warning.*
A chill shot through Nefu. She nodded meekly. Only after Ophelia vanished did she glance across the street—at a newly opened shop still under renovation. The decor hinted: magical scrolls.
Almost without thinking, Nefu stepped inside.
A blindfolded woman emerged, voice apologetic.
“I’m sorry, miss. We’re not open yet. But I accept custom scroll orders.”
“Can you make one… to break a Slave Contract?”
“Of course.”
A subtle smile curved the woman’s lips.
Nefu’s heart skipped. She’d asked on impulse—could it be real?
If this woman spoke truth… this was her chance. Escape. Revenge.
After a breath, Nefu offered her coin purse.
“Is this enough?”
