Chapter 22: Young Master, Isn’t That Supposed to Be My Line?

“Young Master, who is that little slut Sharon?”

Enya’s cheerful smile vanished in an instant.

Her hands gripped Kane’s wrist, which was covering her eyes, her knuckles turning pale from the force.

The fireplace in the room was crackling warmly, yet from her, Kane felt a chill like the dead of winter—piercing and unforgiving.

Yandere girls really are too easy to get jealous… Kane inwardly sighed.

Forcing himself to pry apart her clenched, trembling fingers, he gently brushed aside her bangs, now wet and clinging like a curtain of water.

He looked straight into the shadowed expression on her face with a calm smile.

“Do you remember the story I told you about the Knight King?”

“You mean the one where Saber, disguised as a man, ends up lost in a goblin nest, meets a healing Goblin Slayer, and is finally defeated by Lancelot with a red-hot iron rod?”

“Yeah, that one—but this time, we’re doing a variation of it.”

As Kane spoke, his hand slid under her soft, pale thighs and lifted her up.

Her feet left the ground, and in the darkness, Enya instinctively let out a soft “Ah!” and clung tightly to his neck.

Kane carried her to the bed and tossed her onto it.

“I think I know what Young Master wants now,” Enya whispered, her lips pursed shyly. In the dark, her dewy eyes glimmered with a mix of bashfulness and joy.

“I don’t think you’ve guessed quite right,” Kane said, placing a teasing kiss on her bare lips and stroking her cheek mischievously.

“Hmph~ Young Master just wants to play the ‘fallen knightess’ scenario, right?” Enya pouted playfully. “But I’ll be blunt—you’re destined to mess it up.”

“Oh?” Kane raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. 

This was the first time Enya had ever doubted his capabilities.

Enya didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached up in the dark, her fingers tracing his features softly—as if trying to etch his face into her memory forever.

Kane caught her hand and pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling it gently.

Feeling his warmth, she murmured:

“Because the Young Master is the most handsome man in the world. There’s no way someone like you could pull off playing a dirty, ugly goblin.”

“Fair point.”

Kane nodded, tapping his fist into his palm in agreement.

Indeed, a man as handsome as him couldn’t possibly capture the grotesque spirit of a goblin.

After all, he was practically the embodiment of a reader’s fantasy.

“In that case, let’s switch things up and play ‘Dragon Knight’ instead.”

“What’s a Dragon Knight?”

“Well, first we blindfold you. Then I’ll play Yin Zhiping, and you’ll be the little dragon girl, and then I’ll…”

Kane leaned in and whispered the rest into her ear.

By the time he finished, Enya’s face had turned bright red like a steaming engine.

She raised her small hands and began lightly pounding his chest, scolding in embarrassment:

“Young Master, you’re such a pervert~.”

“So you’re not going to play?”

“…”

At that point, actions spoke louder than words.

Enya lifted one slender leg high into the air.

Her soft, damp foot pressed against Kane’s thigh.

As time passed, her toes began to stir restlessly, inching upward until they landed on his abs, already damp with a sheen of sweat.

She began to trace along the lines of his muscles.

And then—

The screen went dark.

Only the censored audio remained.

“Young Master, where are you? I… I can’t feel you anymore…”

“…”

“You’re so cold… but also so hot… Young Master… Young Master…”

“…”

“What did you put in? Does it feel round? But why can I still breathe… still talk…”

“Young Master… Young Master… Young Master…”

Enya’s words grew slurred, until even she didn’t know what she was mumbling anymore.

Her voice turned hoarse and broke off, leaving only her twisting body behind.

In her last moments of lucidity, she vaguely saw Kane taking out something that looked like a bottle, smiling as he said:

“Now comes the moment where the pure Sharon shows her true power.”

Then her consciousness sank like a stone into the sea—

And everything went black.

……

—Drip.

—Drip.

—Drip.

“Mm… so cold… Young Master… I’m freezing…”

Who knew how much time had passed?

Enya slowly stirred, her senses first registering the damp, foul stench in the air—so putrid it made her stomach churn with nausea.

This wasn’t the familiar scent of her Young Master.

Kane’s scent never made her feel like vomiting.

“Where… am I?”

With effort, Enya forced open her drowsy eyes.

As her vision adjusted to the dim surroundings, her mind froze in confusion.

Stone walls built crudely of rough blocks.

A small square window, barely the size of a bowl, sat high on the wall.

Outside, thunder crashed as torrential rain pelted the glass.

The wind carried the chill and dampness indoors, brushing against her already pale skin, making her look ghostly white.

Only then did Enya realize she was wearing nothing but a thin camisole with lace trim.

Though it was loose and covered her important areas, the fabric was so sheer that it only made her feel colder—almost deliberately so.

Why am I here?

Where’s my Young Master?

Where did my big, beautiful Kane go?!

Enya tried to stand, but her limbs felt numb and weak, refusing to respond.

This is… paralysis toxin?!

When did it happen?

The tea?

No… it couldn’t have been the tea.

She drank it long ago, and there were no symptoms until now.

If it had been the tea, it would’ve kicked in much earlier.

She couldn’t make sense of it.

First things first—she had to detoxify.

But when she tried to cast a spell, nothing happened.

It was as if her magic had vanished entirely.

Alarmed, Enya looked down to examine herself—and finally saw it.

Her wrists were bound with anti-magic stone shackles.

And not just any—these were shackles she had purchased herself… to use on Kane.

Looking closer, the entire cell… was hers.

A secret prison she had arranged in advance, for the sole purpose of locking up her Young Master.

Why…?

Why are all the tools that were supposed to be used on him… being used on me instead?

Enya’s head was swimming, her thoughts scattered and chaotic.

Nothing made sense. Everything was a blur.

—Click, click.

Light footsteps echoed in the corridor.

Enya looked up, dazed.

And froze.

Kane had entered the cell.

His expression was cold, indifferent, towering above her like a stranger.

He looked at her as if she were nothing more than a stranger.

In that moment, a wild, terrifying thought crept into Enya’s mind.

She gasped softly and opened her trembling lips:

“Young Master… why did you betray me?”

“Betray you?”

Kane blinked as though he’d just heard something utterly absurd.

His clear eyes flickered, then narrowed in amusement.

But before she could process that reaction, Kane stepped forward, wrapped an arm gently around the back of her neck, and pulled her into his chest.

“Enya, how could I ever betray you?” he said softly. “You’ve been with me since we were children… my most loyal maid.”

“Loyal?”

Enya laughed bitterly. She raised her bound, pale hand—about to ask if this was how he treated loyalty.

But Kane spoke first.

“Enya, I didn’t want it to come to this. I really didn’t. But you’re just too perfect. Far too perfect.”

Enya: ???

Huh? Wait a minute…

Why does everything suddenly feel… off?