“You despicable, shameless humans—how could you possibly understand the pride of us High Goths?”
Bart took pride in being a High Goth. Upon hearing Selim insult his people, he glared fiercely, eyes wide with anger.
“Pride? You mean that Bloodmad Elixir you use, trading away your lifespan for strength?” Selim asked playfully, “Do you really think that by drinking it, you’ll be able to take on my dear Sophia?”
“How would I know if I don’t try?”
“A noble High Goth would never bow to the likes of a base human!”
Tilting his head back, Bart already had the mouth of the Bloodmad Elixir bottle in his lips.
“Sigh, why would Sharn entrust me with such a foolish helper? Sophia, take care of him.” As she spoke, Selim intentionally laced her words with soul power, making sure Bart heard every word distinctly.
“Puh!” Bart, shocked, spat out the Bloodmad Elixir he hadn’t managed to swallow.
“Cough, cough~”
“What did you mean by that just now?” Bart’s bloodshot eyes locked onto her. “Did Sharn send you to find me? Tell me—where is she now?”
“Is that how you ask someone for help, Mr. Bart?” Selim naturally wouldn’t tell him the truth outright.
He hadn’t bothered to distinguish right from wrong, attacking her the moment they met—of course she wouldn’t give him any face.
“Then what will it take for you to tell me?” Bart had lost all fighting spirit now, a faint pleading seeping into his tone.
“Mr. Bart, as long as…” Selim was just about to name her conditions, but seeing Sophia standing protectively in front of her, a mischievous urge surfaced.
“Mr. Bart, you don’t want Sharn to get hurt, do you?”
Hearing this, Sophia couldn’t help but shudder as bad memories rushed up from her past.
The current scene was all too familiar—only this time, she wasn’t the one being threatened.
Anyone subjected to this level of threat would feel hatred in their heart. Fearing Bart might lash out in desperation, Sophia tried to warn Selim to stop this rotten behavior.
“Hey, Sel—”
Selim merely cast Sophia a sidelong glance, waving her hand dismissively. Using the properties of the Soul Contract, she transmitted a sense of everything being under control to Sophia, quieting her down.
“High Goth,” Selim’s voice took on a touch of arrogance.
“Kneel before the human you look down on.”
Humiliation instantly filled Bart’s heart.
She didn’t even use his name, only addressing him by his race. Once he knelt, it would mean the spine of the High Goths was broken here, by him.
For a people as proud as the High Goths, this was a fate worse than death.
His tightly clenched fists were white at the knuckles, body trembling from fury and resistance.
But—Sharn… Bart’s love for Sharn crushed all reason.
He shut his eyes, biting his lower lip so hard it bled. Finally, inch by inch, his knees bent, crashing to the cold ground.
“Very good, Mr. Bart.” Selim’s lazy, satisfied voice drifted over. “You’ve changed my view a bit. It seems High Goths aren’t entirely blind to the situation.”
She wanted to shatter his pride, then graciously return him just a bit of it.
Give and take—without paying much, just withholding less, you could make the other person grateful.
“First.” Selim began the first step of her psychological taming. “You insulted and attacked me and my dear Sophia without reason. Doesn’t that deserve a sincere apology?”
As the defeated party, Bart needed to admit his mistakes with his own mouth.
“I’m sorry.” Bart’s head drooped, voice muffled and oppressed. “I, Bart, was foolish. I offended the two ladies. I am deeply sorry and beg your forgiveness for my recklessness.”
“Second.” Selim pressed on. “You hurt my beloved Sophia in battle, causing me… and her, lasting psychological trauma. You can’t deny that, can you?”
“I never—” Sophia instinctively wanted to retort, but Selim shot her a sharp glare, cutting her off.
“Well then…” Selim rubbed her fingers together.
“Don’t you think you should offer something substantial to show your remorse?”
Bart’s nerves eased a little at these words. Money? If that could keep Sharn safe, no price was too high.
“Mere money is hardly worthy of your grace. Please, forgive the harm I’ve caused you both.” He quickly untied his money pouch and tossed it to Selim.
A translucent Soul Tentacle shot out, coiling around the pouch and bringing it smoothly into Selim’s hand.
“Lastly…” Selim’s voice suddenly lightened, with a greedy lilt, yet she uttered words that chilled Bart to the bone.
“I’ve been lacking a beautiful maid to warm my bed lately. Why not give me your wife, Sharn?”
The air froze between the three of them. Bart and Sophia stared, eyes wide.
Sophia jerked her head toward Selim, utterly shocked and unable to comprehend.
In Sophia’s gaze, Selim read the question—Are you insane? What nonsense are you spouting?
To Bart, Sharn was his reverse scale, more important than his own life.
His breath grew ragged, face draining of color, eyes awash with agony and inner struggle.
Selim saw his pain, but she didn’t let up—instead, she pressed harder.
“From this day forward, she belongs to me. I want you to swear: you’ll only ever watch her from afar, never touch her again—not even a hair.”
Her cold words stabbed into Bart’s heart. His nails dug deep into the dirt, lower lip torn and bleeding, silent tears of humiliation and blood falling to the ground.
Boundless hatred threatened to burst his sanity and tear this woman to pieces.
But… Sharn…
In the end, Bart’s love for Sharn overcame everything.
As if using up his last strength, he choked out, “Fine… I… I promise you…”
The moment the words fell, he seemed to collapse, all strength gone. “As long as… Sharn is safe…”
Seeing Bart like this, Sophia’s shocked gaze left Selim, turning to Bart in disbelief—He actually agreed to something like that?
Selim knew her pressure had peaked. Now, it was time to pull the drowning man up—even if she was the one who’d pushed him in.
“Haha—!” Suddenly, Selim burst into clear laughter, breaking the dead silence.
She held her stomach, laughing so hard in her wheelchair she rocked back and forth, all the villainous airs from before gone, replaced by a mischievous girl’s cunning delight at a successful prank.
“Sophia, did you see that? He actually believed me! Hahaha!”
Sophia was totally dazed, her gaze darting between Selim and the devastated Bart, completely unable to keep up.
“Bart, look!” Selim pointed at Sophia, laughing until tears came. “Sophia actually believed it too, hahahahaha!”
As the laughter faded, Selim wiped her eyes, turning to Bart. Her tone returned to its usual calm, gentle with a hint of warmth: “No wonder Sharn said you can always be trusted, no matter when.”
“You really are a ‘Stone.’”
Selim had never met Sharn; in her playthroughs, Sharn would have died long ago.
And ‘Stone’ was a nickname only Sharn used for Bart, the very first words of Sharn’s last letter.
She gambled that the moment Bart heard that word, he’d imagine everything for himself.
Sure enough, Bart was briefly confused by Selim’s abrupt shift, but at the mention of ‘Stone’, he shuddered, instantly falling into memories.
He stared blankly at Selim, hatred in his eyes melting like snow, replaced quickly by overwhelming guilt and indescribable gratitude.
“Thank you for your mercy… Miss, as kind as an Angel…” His voice trembled, all hesitation gone, forehead banging hard against the ground with a heavy thud.
Of the three, Sophia reacted the slowest.
She stared at Bart, moved to tears with gratitude, then looked to Selim, finally speaking with bewilderment and helplessness, “So… you weren’t really after his wife just now?”
Selim immediately crossed her arms, exaggerating her gaze like a pervert as she looked Sophia up and down. “Sophia! Sharn is a married woman! How could you have such a terrifying idea of stealing someone’s love? That’s just so immoral!”
As she spoke, she deftly placed the “moral low ground” cap squarely on Sophia’s head.
“You were the one—” Sophia was left speechless by the groundless accusation.
“Besides,” Selim cut her off before she could protest, leaning over and skillfully wrapping an arm around Sophia’s slender waist, rubbing her face against Sophia’s side and speaking in a sweet, spoiled tone.
“If I really brought someone back, what would I do if Sophia got jealous?”
“Who… who would get jealous over you.” Sophia’s body stiffened, ears flushing red, mumbling a retort, but deep down she couldn’t help feeling a gentle warmth.
Sophia liked feeling important to someone.
Selim looked up, her scarlet eyes shining as she gestured with her fingers: “Really? If someone ranked ahead of you in my heart, wouldn’t you feel even a little… uncomfortable?”
Her tone was teasing.
“That’s your freedom… What’s it got to do with me…” Sophia turned her face away, her voice growing softer.
“Because for me,” Selim straightened up, shaking the heavy money pouch in her hand. The coins clinked in a clear, pleasant ring.
“I’m always biased toward the one most important in my heart.”
That ringing, tinkling sound instantly perked Sophia up.