Freya lay face-down on the bed, clutching a pillow over her head. “Why?! Why do I feel so… affected?!”

She was deeply confused by her own reaction. How could her body grow warm when the Dark Sorceress stepped on her face? Shame warred with a strange, inexplicable longing.

She desperately wanted that foot to keep trampling her.

“What’s wrong with me?!”

This happened because half her body had already been tainted by darkness—and its master was the Dark Sorceress.

Any creature fully consumed by darkness became her servant, instinctively craving the master’s “affection.”

Like Little Dragoness: the moment she saw her master’s cute little foot, she could barely contain herself. Though Freya was only half-tainted, after tasting that “affectionate” trampling, her corrupted flesh had already grown fond of the sensation.

But Freya was the Divine Maiden of the Divine Clan. Her fierce hatred for demons clashed violently with the craving welling inside her.

Hating the Dark Sorceress yet longing for her foot on her face—this contradiction plunged her into deep self-doubt.

“You’re the Divine Maiden! Why feel this way?! Why?!”

Meanwhile, Morningstar had a similar meltdown.

“Why?! Why do I have this… kink?! Aaah! So embarrassing!”

Back in her room, she buried her face in the pillow, bumping her head repeatedly while yanking her silvery-white hair into a messy bird’s nest.

She didn’t feel guilty—just utterly ashamed.

After all, she was raised properly. Just recalling how she’d pinched someone’s cheek with her foot sent fresh shame crashing over her.

“Is the Dark Sorceress’s consciousness affecting me? But I only swapped bodies… This body shouldn’t hold her mind, right? I don’t get it…”

Rubbing her temples, Morningstar sensed she was drifting from her old self. Worst of all? She felt no resistance—only a flicker of anticipation.

As if becoming the Dark Sorceress fully was exactly what she wanted.

“I’m sinking deeper… Sigh…”

She rose from bed. No more delays. She had to find a way home—before she became truly “unable to return.”

“Little Dragoness, are there still strong figures in this world?”

She sought her lost treasures, but wasn’t reckless. Appearing openly might trigger another divine-human purge like millennia ago—and without mastered transmigration magic, her soul was vulnerable.

“Master, the era’s strongest were slaughtered by you. Only a few survived. New talents may have risen in three thousand years… but they likely wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“‘Likely’? So someone *could* beat me?”

Morningstar frowned. “I’ll scout this world quietly first. If no one’s stronger… I’ll conquer and destroy—ahem! Reclaim what’s mine.”

She’d almost slipped. Her plan was set.

“Master, you’re starting the search?”

“Mm.”

“Then why bring *her*?” Little Dragoness pointed at Freya, puzzled. Not yet fully corrupted—taking her out risked trouble.

“No need to worry. I have my ways.” Morningstar turned to Freya. “Don’t forget your place~”

“I-I know.”

“So… what do you call me?”

Freya’s face twisted. Reluctantly, stiffly: “M-M… Master.”

“Good girl. Serve me well. Disobey or upset me… you know the consequences.”

Morningstar enjoyed watching resistance crumble into helplessness. Freya’s presence would lift her mood—and keep Little Dragoness’s unsettling antics in check. Traveling alone with her might awaken the Dark Sorceress within too fast.

“I… I know.”

“I’m sorry. I have reasons. I’m not who you think—I just want to go home. Yesterday’s actions? Only the Dark Sorceress’s evil persona in this body. Obey me, stay calm… and I’ll remain the kind person I am.”

Her tone flipped 180 degrees. She placed a hand on Freya’s shoulder, voice earnest.

“I understand. I won’t anger you.”

Still dazed by the sudden tenderness, Freya froze as something touched her chest.

“Words aren’t enough.” Morningstar’s slender finger pressed against the Divine Maiden’s heart. Black energy bloomed. A sharp *sizzle*—like water on hot iron.

“Mmph!” Freya bit her lip, pain twisting her features.

When the finger withdrew, a black rose-like mark stained her snow-white skin.

“This is my seal. Think of betrayal… and terrible things will follow.”

Morningstar’s shifting demeanor wasn’t surprising—her original self was being eroded by the Dark Sorceress’s persona.

“What is this…” Freya whispered, staring at the mark. Morningstar had almost drawn a cute pink heart 💗, but remembered: she wasn’t a succubus.

She left the consequence unspoken.

Let Freya imagine the worst.

Silence was the sharpest threat.