Because she had undergone so much in the past—especially when magic power was injected into her—Avira had no intention of resisting at all. As Ophitia’s miasma reshaped her body and the Moon Mark expanded and spread wildly, Avira could only submit.
If she didn’t submit, she would break… So, she had no choice but to do this.
When Avira tried to vent her voice, Ophitia unexpectedly blocked her mouth. This moist, sweet taste was one she had experienced more than once, so she shouldn’t have felt much from it. But now, it was like the final straw that broke her. Her mouth was stirred into a mess. She subconsciously cooperated with the Demon King’s movements, and before she knew it, the Moon Mark had absorbed a massive amount of power and begun to grow.
The Moon Mark grew in a place Avira couldn’t see. Countless deep blue veins thrust into her heart, making her even more rigidly obedient to the Demon King before her body fully degenerated into that of the Demon Race. The transformation into a familiar would also begin from her mind.
Even though Avira already had one prior experience, she still couldn’t hold back.
“Master… ♡”
Her delicate and charming voice completely shattered the image of the icy beauty with her arrogant and aloof demeanor, reducing her to a bird bound to a pillar, at the mercy of others.
Avira regretted saying those two words.
Intentionally or not, she had never called Ophitia “Master” in this timeline. That was the title she used as a familiar during her time serving the Demon King—a instinctive reverence imprinted in her bloodline through day-and-night !
Just as she began to regret it, Ophitia made things even more tumultuous. As her body shook, Ophitia’s fingers never shifted even a fraction. It seemed she wouldn’t give Avira even the slightest chance.
Ophitia had originally been hesitating, but when she heard Avira’s voice—identical to before—that delicious “Master,” she made up her mind.
“Avira, hehe~”
She would grasp tightly what was in her hands.
Suddenly, at the edge of the Moon Mark on Avira’s chest, pink patterns began to appear. The patterns emitted a fluorescent glow, growing brighter and brighter, like a brand etched into her skin. More patterns emerged on Avira’s forehead.
“Does it feel good~?”
“Wu…!”
“Being pampered by your master is supposed to feel good for a familiar, right?”
“M-Master… If you keep going like this, I’ll… break…” Avira’s teary eyes seemed to awaken Ophitia’s conscience, but at her core, she was an evil demon of the Demon Race. More importantly, she was almost successful.
Avira let out another soft, lingering voice. She arched her body, unable even to hypnotize herself. Normally, bodily transformation came with intense pain, but this time, for some reason, becoming a familiar felt so pleasurable—like she was meant to be her master’s slave all along, now willingly returning to the chains that bound her.
The next second, the patterns on her head vanished, replaced by miasma completely enveloping her body. As Avira’s body convulsed, she felt a scorching heat like molten rock on both sides of her head. Then, as the heat dissipated, it turned into an itch…
A pair of black wings sprouted from the sides of her head, paired with hair whose edges gradually turned black—like a lily flower soaked in ink, corrupted by evil power.
Avira opened her eyes wide.
“Ahh, huff… Ahwoo… Demon King, Lady Demon King…”
As parts of her body ceased to be human, her mind seemed to tell her that the initial familiarization was complete.
Afterward, she collapsed powerlessly onto the bed, her entire body limp and drained of strength.
—
In the most unremarkable forest amid the mountain range, the female knight leaned against a withered tree. The late winds of the highlands blew, lifting her head of golden long hair. She opened one eye halfway, as if sensing something, then sighed and closed it again.
“It seems Avira didn’t keep our appointment~”
Her name was Catherine.
The captain of the Holy Church’s strongest Knight Order, the mightiest among the Medal Knights.
A few days ago, she had a knightly duel with Avira—that was their scheduled bout.
She had only intended to use twenty percent of her strength against Avira, after all. Besides the Saintess Power, she was just a girl without the strength to truss a chicken, the most looked-down-upon royal of Tilves. Catherine had heard the rumors about her: the “incompetent princess,” and the Pope’s evaluation…
“A Saintess Bloodline that cannot be awakened.”
To Catherine’s surprise, she lost.
Yes, she lost to the princess of that small nation, Tilves. If the Knight Order found out, it would be a great humiliation for her. Though Catherine wasn’t one to be so utilitarian, she still cared a bit about her face.
However,
She had lost due to carelessness. Moreover, Catherine had noticed that Avira was quite skilled with the sword.
Suddenly, she felt an impulse to take Avira as her student and train her to become the world’s greatest swordswoman… This was the first time she, as the Sword Saint, had ever wanted to pass on her martial arts.
There was a pure obsession in Avira’s swordsmanship—she didn’t know what that obsession was; perhaps only Avira herself understood.
“What an intriguing girl.” Catherine muttered to herself.
What surprised Catherine even more was that after winning the duel, Avira didn’t make her fulfill any wish, nor did she urge Catherine to hurry off in search of the lost Time Hourglass.
Her proposal was…
“A favor.”
A few days later—today—she was supposed to rescue a large number of humans, including two captured members of the Hero Squad, and hand them over to her to bring back to the church!
But now, Avira had vanished.
“What is Avira doing right now?”
Catherine shook her head.
She suddenly recalled what the Demon King had said in her presence…
If the Holy Church had taken it seriously, the current Saintess would already be the Pope’s subordinate.
Perhaps the Holy Church was the real culprit.
“Lady Catherine, it seems the person you were waiting for didn’t show up on time. We should leave now.” Suddenly, a man appeared behind Catherine.
He wore glasses, had a refined face, a tall and thin build—like the picture of a model student. He wore a magical cape, equipped all over with magic amplification tools and defensive gear.
The vice captain, Ross.
The Knight Order’s second-in-command.
Catherine opened one eye halfway: “No, I’ll keep waiting. She’ll remember.”
The bespectacled Ross widened his eyes and smiled:
“I believe that if she’s truly so important to you, it would be better to go find her directly.”
Catherine’s gaze shifted: “Indeed.”
The next second, she turned into a shooting star and shot out of the mountains, straight toward the highlands.
