Shadowmoon Manor.
In the master bedroom, a resplendent crystal chandelier cast a warm, golden glow from the vaulted ceiling, bathing the room in a soft, almost dreamlike ambiance.
The light wove an illusion of coziness, yet beneath it lingered a fragile, fleeting unreality.
Su Nian knelt quietly at the intricately carved threshold, her hands obediently clasped behind her back.
Her lake-blue mage robe fanned out across the polished marble floor, its hem sprawling like a wilted lily, heartbreakingly beautiful in its desolation.
At the whim of that vile Horned Demon, she had been forced to don this robe today—a garment she typically reserved for her lectures at the Magic Academy.
Memories flooded her mind like a relentless tide.
Just days ago, she had stood in this same lake-blue robe, commanding the grand domed lecture hall of the Magic Academy.
Her presence was radiant, her movements crisp as she wielded a teaching rod crafted from shimmering ice crystals, demonstrating the wondrous phenomenon of elemental resonance to a room full of eager students.
Back then, she had been a beacon of light, revered and admired.
But now, she knelt here in abject humility, her heart heavy with reluctance, awaiting the Horned Demon she loathed with every fiber of her being.
Outside the window, a lilting melody drifted on the breeze—the soaring strains of “Let It Go”, the signature song of the famed performer, Magic Feather Fantasy.
It was the very piece Su Nian had performed with fervor last month in the grand plaza, before thousands of adoring fans.
Yet now, those lyrics—brimming with themes of freedom and courage—felt like invisible thorns, piercing her trembling, pale back, each note a cruel reminder of her current state, twisting the knife deeper into her anguished heart.
“Welcome home, Master,” she said, her voice clear as a spring but laced with a honeyed tremor, her hands still clasped behind her, a gesture of submission.
“Ding-dong: Humiliation Value +4,592.”
“Ding-dong: Annoyance Value +4,592.”
“Ding-dong: Mental Resilience reduced to 76%.”
She was the confident, radiant magical idol, once basking in the cheers and adoration of crowds from the stage.
She was the esteemed mentor of the Magic Academy, guiding her students through the mysteries of magic with grace and authority.
Yet now, she could only bow and scrape before this wretched Horned Demon, subject to his every whim.
Her thoughts drifted to the horrific scene she had witnessed at Viscount Vere’s estate— Chu Tian tormenting Olette with the [Soul Prism].
The memory replayed like a nightmare, Olette’s screams echoing in her ears.
She knew all too well the cruelty of this demon and the unknown powers he wielded.
To resist now, without absolute strength, would only plunge her into a deeper abyss.
So, she resolved to bide her time, to endure and accumulate Humiliation Value.
Chu Tian gazed down at her, his eyes lingering on the body that had once driven the entire Academy City wild with admiration.
Her golden hair shimmered like a river of stars under the magical light, and beneath her robe, the faint red marks from his grip three days ago still marred the delicate curve of her waist.
This girl, once a dazzling goddess on stage, was now reduced to kneeling before him in utter subservience.
The tip of his obsidian leather shoe nudged her chin, tilting her face upward.
As he leaned down, a stray lock of his hair brushed against the reddened corner of her eye.
“So obedient today? Seems the little wildcat’s been thoroughly tamed,” he purred, his voice dripping with mockery.
As he spoke, he fastened a leather collar around her neck—different from the last, this one bore a silver tag etched with the magical runes that declared her “Master’s Exclusive.”
Su Nian bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, her heart seething with humiliation.
The collar, a tool of captivity, was but a temporary shackle, yet it crushed any flicker of defiance, leaving her spirit plummeting into despair.
She could only let the Horned Demon lead her toward the washroom, her steps heavy with resignation.
At that moment, she was no more than a captured prisoner, utterly at the mercy of the man before her.
In the washroom, Chu Tian loomed over her, his voice thick with arrogance and amusement.
“Little slave, ready to serve your master’s bath?”
Rage and unwillingness churned within her, her nails digging deep into her palms.
In her mind, she had already carved him into pieces a thousand times over, yet her face remained a mask of compliance.
“Yes, Master,” she replied softly, feigning obedience.
Su Nian rose slowly, each movement draining her strength as though her body fought against her will.
Stepping closer to the Horned Demon, her trembling hands reached out, beginning to undo his clothes.
Those hands—slender and pale—had once danced elegantly across the stage, weaving spells that conjured dreamlike spectacles.
Now, they were reduced to unfastening the garments of this despicable man.
With each button undone, she felt her dignity stripped away, humiliation crashing over her like a tidal wave.
In her heart, she vowed, ‘You vile Horned Demon, just you wait. When I ascend to Saint-level, you’ll pay dearly for everything you’ve done!’
“Ding-dong: Detected host’s humiliation from undressing the Horned Demon. Humiliation Value +7,589.”
“Ding-dong: Absorbed humiliation emotions. Annoyance Value +7,589.”
Steam filled the bathroom, but its warmth did nothing to thaw the chill in Su Nian’s heart.
Chu Tian stepped into the bath, his face settling into an expression of smug satisfaction.
Her one small act of defiance—surreptitiously raising the water temperature by a few degrees—had clearly been futile.
Suppressing her disgust, Su Nian began to scrub his back.
Her movements were mechanical, stiff.
With each stroke, she silently reminded herself that this was for her growth, for the day she could exact her revenge.
“Put some effort into it. Haven’t you eaten?” Chu Tian’s voice, laced with dissatisfaction, echoed through the room.
Su Nian clenched her teeth, increasing the pressure of her hands, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes.
She lifted her head, refusing to let them fall, unwilling to show weakness before this monster.
“Yes, Master,” she murmured, her voice tinged with suppressed fury.
“Ding-dong: Detected host’s humiliation from Master’s reprimand. Humiliation Value +3,275.”
“Ding-dong: Absorbed humiliation emotions. Annoyance Value +3,275.”
Just then, her system chimed again.
“Ding-dong: Triggered Master’s Task: Complete a full bath service for Master. Reward upon completion: 20,000 Humiliation Value. Failure penalty…”
Her heart tightened.
She had no choice but to press on, no matter how degrading the task.
The promise of 20,000 Humiliation Value was tempting, yet the shame of it all burned her to her core.
But the thought of nearing the million Humiliation Value needed to break free spurred her forward.
Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself.
A flicker of sorrow passed through her eyes, quickly replaced by resolve.
In her heart, she whispered, ‘For freedom. For revenge. This is only temporary.’
Chu Tian squinted, relishing her service, a smug satisfaction curling within him.
Unintentionally, his back brushed against the hem of her mage robe as she scrubbed.
An idea sparked in his mind.
“Useless girl, you can’t even scrub properly. Your skirt keeps brushing against me—it’s maddening!” he complained, his tone exaggeratedly petulant.
In truth, the robe’s fabric was soft, enchanted with magical arrays that made it float lightly, not unlike the texture of her stockings.
If he could use her stockings for his vile purposes, how could her skirt possibly bother him?
“I’m sorry… Master,” Su Nian said, hastily pulling the hem of her robe back.
“An apology? Useless. Here’s what we’ll do to prevent this from happening again…”