This web… it's the web of a Forest Intellect Spider! Eight hundred years of experience told Sophia its nature and traits. Forest Intellect Spiders, medium-sized giant spiders, inhabited northern Qitalia near Milanni and Turinía. Females, about the size of a dire wolf, measured roughly 1.5 meters long, while males were far smaller, akin to a large housecat or small dog. Not particularly powerful, with unremarkable venom, they relied on intelligence—comparable to a dog's—making them the smartest spiders.
They wove nearly invisible, highly adhesive webs between forest trees, undetectable by most creatures. Even Sophia's infrared vision and acute hearing failed her. Like their evolutionary cousins, bats and spiders, their fine webs evaded echolocation, as sound waves couldn't reflect accurately. Larger spiders were bats' predators, their coarser webs ensnaring the less agile fliers for consumption.
Vampires loathed spiders and their webs. Though not prey like bats, an instinctual dread gripped them, akin to a webbed bat's panic. In Dominax Fortress in Silania's Valhaz, not a single web existed. In her 800 years, Sophia had never touched a web, her magic ensuring it. Without magic, distracted by showing off to Isaac, she'd crashed. The collar, which Isaac had fastened, weakened Bloodwing, letting the web hold her. Both faults traced to Isaac, and in her mind, she slaughtered him a hundred times with vampiric cruelty.
Having faced true danger only two or three times, Sophia didn't dwell on her peril, preferring to mentally torment an Isaac lookalike. But soon, a dire wolf-sized female spider scuttled along the web. Its webs, strong enough to bind a tigress, were trivial to Sophia's ogre-strong legs. She remained stuck only because her bound upper body limited leverage. Had Bloodwing been with her, its bandit-blood-enhanced strength could've torn the silk, but that cowardly Isaac, flung off, had clung to her cloak, stealing it! Kill him another hundred times!
No time for imaginary torture—the spider, a vampire's bane, approached. Raised among humans, Sophia loathed spiders a thousand times more than other vampires. "Hey, you, stay back! I hate spiders!" she projected, using a high vampire's ability to commune with evil creatures.
The collar blocked her intimidation, conveying her thoughts but not her dominance. The spider paused, then advanced. "No, no, stay away! Argh!" Like a human heiress spotting a bug, she panicked, flailing a kick that snapped a spider leg.
"Damn! These spiders are smart—miss once, and they avoid my legs!" Her only chance squandered, panic surged. The spider, twitching from its injury, learned her threat. It sprayed silk at her long legs.
For a high vampire, this was child's play. Sophia shook her legs, shredding the silk, mocking the spider's inadequacy. The spider persisted, and she casually tore each layer. But constant leg movement tugged the crotch rope, and unable to resist, she moaned, clamping her legs to ease the stimulation.
Seizing the moment, the spider sprayed a dozen silk layers in seconds. Realizing the danger, Sophia strained to break them. The layers cracked but didn't snap easily. The spider kept spraying, and the cumulative silk overwhelmed her strength, binding her legs tightly.
"Argh, disgusting web! Me, a princess, bound by a filthy bug? I hate webs!" Facing her phobia, Sophia's regal demeanor vanished, replaced by a shrieking, petulant heiress.
Unconvinced, the spider added more layers, then climbed onto her. Touching the holy ropes, it recoiled, singed by sacred energy. "Haha, you vile thing, burned by my ropes!" Sophia taunted, ignoring that the ropes burned her too.
Learning, the spider wove silk to shield the ropes, then resumed binding her, cocooning her like a chrysalis. "No! You can't touch me! Not there!" The spider, experienced with human women, targeted her sensitive spots—one leg on her groin, two on her breasts.
"Argh, a bug defiling me? Stop!" Already bound, the spider's assault overwhelmed her, moans escaping as she teetered between ecstasy and agony. "If I weren't magic-sealed, I'd burn you! Even bound, I'd—take off this collar!" The spider ignored her, spraying acidic fluid—not to kill, but angered by her curses.
"You idiot, think this can digest a royal vampire?" she gasped between moans.
The spider crawled to her face, aiming to silence her. Its legs left her sensitive areas. Chance! "Awooowaa!" A piercing sonic blast, a Dominax bloodline ability unaffected by the collar, blasted the spider off the web.
"Filthy spider bitch, face my wrath!" Yet the collar weakened her throat; a castle-shattering sonic cannon hadn't killed the spider. No time to dwell—her worst fear loomed. Dignity forgotten, she screamed, "Zack, save me!"
Her voice carried, but relief faded as two smaller male spiders appeared. "No! Not more!" Another sonic blast killed one, but the other reached behind her head. Her neck, weakened to human levels and stuck, couldn't turn. "Me, defeated by a bug?" The cat-sized spider sealed her sonic-capable mouth with silk. "Mmm-mmm? Mmm-mmm!" Outraged, she couldn't believe a tiny spider silenced her noble lips.
The male spider, unhurried, blinded her with silk, its soundproofing reducing her hearing to human levels. Wrapped in layers, she became a white cocoon, wriggling futilely like a maggot. "Mmm-mmm!" Like any heiress facing her phobia, she panicked, dignity gone. Violated and cocooned, she'd do anything for rescue.
The male, not hungry or angered, cut her head's silk, hanging her upside-down, head near the ground. More silk anchored her head, her body still webbed to the tree. Crawling over her, it stimulated her, fluids gushing. The female's acid had dissolved her conjured clothes, leaving the holy ropes and spider's touch excruciatingly raw. "Mmm-mmm-oooh!" she moaned, overwhelmed.
The male positioned itself at her groin, inserting its arthropod organ. "Mmm-mmm-aaaah!" My first time, with a spider? Abstinent and hypersensitive, the stimulation triggered climax. Male spiders laid eggs needing another's to hatch, producing malformed offspring in emergencies. It had laid eggs in her.
"Mmm-mmm!" Defiled by her hated foe, rage, shame, fear, and guilt flooded her. The spider paid—its organ, severed by the holy ropes, crippled it. Eunuch spiders were eaten, but its barbed organ, lodged in her, tormented her with every rope-tightening movement.
"Mmm-mmm!" was all she could do. The "eunuch" spider, done with her, bit her buttocks venomously, cut her head's grounding silk, and hung her upside-down, wrapping her in dozens of silk layers. Now a thick, sleeping-bag-like cocoon, she couldn't wriggle, her muffled moans inaudible. Sensory-deprived, despairing, she prayed for salvation.
Meanwhile, Isaac, flung from Sophia, clung to Bloodwing, softening his fall. Hearing her cry, "Zack, save me!" he mistook it for her usual demanding tone. Puzzled but bound by his oath, he advanced. A wounded female spider, legs broken, crawled toward him. "Stay back!" he yelled, drawing Moonshine but too scared to strike.
"If only it were longer," he muttered. Moonshine, responding, extended into a segmented, ten-meter blade-whip. This sword's amazing! Untrained, he swung, unleashing a master's whip technique—Sophia's and Van Dyne's, stored in the blade. Piao! The holy whip vaporized the spider with a blue energy burst.
"Easy? My first kill!" Isaac gloated, spotting two hanging cocoons. Sophia, inside? No way—a spider I beat couldn't trap her. Assuming another human, his decency urged rescue. Moonshine gently retrieved the cocoons. A cat-sized spider on one met the whip's explosive end.
Cutting the first cocoon revealed a disheveled, unconscious 18-year-old girl, 1.63 meters, with black hair and freckles. Faintly alive, Isaac gave CPR (and groped her), but she remained out. Safe for now, he freed her, fondling her underdeveloped curves, and turned to the second cocoon, fiercely wriggling, its voluptuous form unmistakable. Purple hair confirmed it—Sophia.
He freed her head. "Lady Dominax, what…" She's trapped, bound by me? Don't see me, don't kill me!
"Oh? I was testing if you'd save me. If not, I'd escape and kill you," Sophia lied, masking gratitude to maintain her lofty image. "Good, good," Isaac said, unconvinced—her cocoon's struggles were too real. Noticing dirt and scratches on her usually pristine face, he wondered if she'd truly fought.
"What about the male spider?" she asked, a flicker of fear in her eyes.
"That little one? Whipped it dead," he said, showing Moonshine's whip form.
"Zack, a hero! That spider was vile—you did well!" She hid her terror, framing it as intentional capture. "Only pure hearts can wield Moonshine's forms. A coward like you? Hunters lied!" Isaac, praised then mocked, muttered, You wield it too… "Cut the silk, or should I escape?" he asked, testing her.
"Wait! Pull me out and cloak me!" Forgetting her mental executions, she prioritized modesty. Isaac tore the outer silk, lifting her silk-wrapped, curvaceous form. Feeling no clothes and her protruding nipples, he realized her nudity. Sophia, blushing, noticed his discovery. "Cloak me, now!"
Bloodwing enveloped her, hiding her curves. Though playful, Sophia killed anyone who saw her naked or groped her, like Garth, as compensation before death. Even Isaac, post-investigation, would be mind-wiped to forget touching her. As Silania's princess, her dignity demanded it. "The girl's unconscious. Any ideas?" Isaac asked.
"Why save her?" Sophia, happy to aid humans with magic, balked without it. "A favor for saving you?" Isaac pressed.
He thinks he saved me? Reluctantly, she agreed. "Open her mouth." Isaac complied, and Sophia, hopping in her cocoon, extended her fangs. "You're not—?" Isaac panicked.
"Idiot, I'm making spirit blood!" she snapped. "Only royal vampires can craft elixirs from their blood. High vampires need alchemy. I'm a genius—few millennia-old royals match me. Without this collar, I could make immortality potions."
Unimpressed by eternal life, Isaac irked her. "Fool, I can make panaceas, love potions, invisibility elixirs! Healing or strength spirit blood? I don't even need enchanting!" "Then save her," he urged.
"Nope," she pouted, retracting her fangs. "You're not awed! Worship me first!" Feeling slighted, she demanded adoration. Isaac, amused, complied: "Your talents are grand, Lady! Save her!" Smirking, she kissed the girl's mouth, dripping healing spirit blood. The girl awoke, her freckles and acne gone.
Seeing her mouth forced open and kissed, she scrambled up. "Don't freak—we saved you!" Sophia struggled to stand, Bloodwing aiding her. "You were cocooned, unconscious. We gave CPR." "You saved me? Thank you!" the girl bowed. "Why do I feel amazing?"
"I'm Sophie, this is my servant Isaac. We were caught by Forest Intellect Spiders; he saved us," Sophia lied. "Spiders?" the girl shrieked. "Their males…" "Were you…?" Sophia asked, concerned. Male spider eggs, hatching inside, tore hosts apart. Sophia had dissolved hers with acidic blood, but humans couldn't. "No, thanks to Isaac!" the girl said. "I'm Georgina, from Waterwheel Village. Visit me!"
"Any caves nearby?" Sophia asked. "I'll guide you," Georgina offered. "Sophie, were you…?" "Of course not! They fled me—I let them catch me." Unwilling to dwell on her shame, Sophia changed topics. "Zack, the dagger."
Unable to move freely, she refused to let Isaac cut her silk, exposing her. Bloodheart's ruby stored spells, like a reusable, multi-spell scroll. Sophia had stored ignition to burn ropes (or silk), clothing conjuration, and Julius clan spells: Decapitation and Limb Severance for escape. Collared, she couldn't cast, so Isaac must. "Hold the dagger, focus on it, then my cloaked body."
Isaac obeyed. "Chant: &#￥@&U&￥%￥@…" Nothing happened. "Idiot! Even a fool could cast this!" Sophia raged. "Georgina, try!" Georgina succeeded, burning the silk under Bloodwing, the protein stench rising. "See, a villager did it!" Sophia sneered, ignorant of courtesy to "lessers." Georgina, unfazed, conjured Sophia's leather outfit, restoring her height with heels.
Guided to the cave, Isaac lit a torch, wary but hiding it from Georgina. Sophia echolocated: "It's there. Left, a dead adventurer with four gold coins." Isaac found them. "You're amazing, Sophie—" Her ultrasound snuffed the torch. "Forest goblins," she whispered.
Unlike plains goblins—shrewd but trade-savvy, like her merchant Asi—forest goblins were evil, robbing, massacring, and enslaving women before eating them. With darkvision and three-meter hearing, darkness hid the trio if still. Georgina whimpered, terrified. "I'll protect you," Isaac said, groping her, equally scared of goblins' torture.
Sophia, with cave-superior vision and echolocation, saw five goblins approach, leering. "Want to bind and enslave big sister?" she taunted. Two wielded lassos. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Five high-heeled kicks crushed their skulls. "No dirty goblin blood," she said.
"What happened?" Georgina cried. "I killed goblins—stay quiet!" Isaac lied, groping her. "You're a hero!" she said, clutching him. Sophia heard larger foes: "Big goblins, rare." Two two-meter pig-goblin hybrids charged. Dodging a club, she snapped one's neck with a kick. Enraged, it charged; she kicked its skull, killing it. The other roared. "If you win, how will you ravish me?" she teased, hearing a shaman's chant twenty meters away. A fireball flew; instead of dodging optimally, she kicked the second goblin into the fireball's path, triggering an iron cage trap.
"Naughty shaman, luring me into a trap to play with my body?" Spotting the fleeing shaman's fear, she pursued. "No escape, naughty." A sonic blast floored him, followed by ten more, pulping him. After more high-heeled carnage, silence fell.
"Light the torch," Sophia said. Isaac, feigning battle fatigue, did so. "Close call, good thing I train," he boasted. "Yes, without you, I'd be a goblin sex slave, ravaged!" Sophia played along. "You're unhurt, hero?" Georgina swooned, starstruck. "Sophie, the cave's dangerous," Isaac hinted. "It's safe now, with you to save us," Sophia countered. "With Isaac, I'm secure!" Georgina blushed.
They reached a treasure chest, looting adventurer corpses—victims of Sophia's key rumor—en route. A floating armored giant appeared. "Leave, Georgina, it's safe elsewhere," Sophia urged, unconcerned. Georgina retreated. "I am the guardian—" "Silence, in Dominax's name." The armor stilled. "Sorry, guardian spirit, for killing and binding you," Sophia said, admitting she'd playfully enslaved it to test adventurers. Most corpses, bisected or crushed, were its victims, not goblins'.
"I'm sorry, rest, in Dominax's name." The armor vanished. Turning to Isaac, her otherworldly sight caught a black-armored specter. "Watch out!" Isaac ran; the ghost roared, "I curse you, Sophia von Dominax!"
"Revenge?" Isaac snapped. "You trapped it 400 years! Imagine being caged that long!" Sophia tried bluffing: "I was wrong, spirit. Rest, unless you want obliteration." "Bound and magic-less, you die!" it roared, swinging a massive sword.
Dodging, Sophia knew her past folly created a giant-strength ghost. Unbound, her martial skill could win, but with only 80% leg strength, hampered by the crotch rope, she was outmatched. The ghost's soul-form immunity to physical attacks made her kicks useless. She evaded nimbly, her steps ghostly.
"Isaac, Moonshine! It's the only weapon!" Bloodheart and Evelyn could harm it, but Moonshine was superior, and Evelyn needed her blood. Frozen, Isaac babbled, "This could level a capital!" Her red-eyed glare commanded: "I order you, draw Moonshine!" Overcoming fear, he slashed, cutting the ghost like paper.
It turned, its sword descending. Moonshine stored techniques, not footwork; Isaac, a static target, was helpless. Bloodwing blocked, severing Sophia's left foot but saving him. "Whip the helmet's gem!" she yelled, enduring pain. Isaac transformed Moonshine, striking the ghost's core, destroying it.
Both collapsed. "Open the chest," she gasped. Ten minutes later, Isaac carried her out, Georgina in tow. Sophia brooded—Isaac saw her footless, proving her fallibility. He suspected her mind-reading loss, unchallenged by his thoughts, and heard her toy's revelation of her bound, magic-less state. Dependent on him, her nightmare loomed.
They rested in Waterwheel Village, Georgina's home. Her blacksmith father, grateful, offered Isaac armor. He declined—armor was heavy and hot—but took gold coins. After dinner, Sophia's foot regrew, and Isaac, mastering Bloodheart's magic, restored her boot. Bloodwing formed a hood to conceal her beauty and block sunlight, passing them as travelers. Isaac's heroism spread.
Night, Waterwheel VillageAlf,
a sneaky thief, returned from stealing, spotting a hooded, cloaked figure—Sophia, seemingly asleep. Overjoyed, he planned to bind and ravish her, only to find her already bound. Carrying her home, he loosened his belt, unable to wait. "So, gentleman thief, not so noble? Seeing a fainted girl, you carry her like cargo?" she said."You… I'll have you, bitch!" Realizing she was awake, possibly baiting him, he grabbed her, intending to throw her down. "Rape me first, right?" She slipped free, fangs sinking into his neck.
Next Day
"Alf was attacked by a vampire," villagers gossiped. "Good riddance, the thief." "Died unbuckling his pants—female vampire?" "No such thing!" "Georgina's one!" "Don't say that!" "The hooded woman with the hero?" "Maybe his servant?" "She's there—hush!"
Sophia, hooded, overheard via her superhuman hearing. "Lady Dominax, why kill?" Isaac demanded, angry. "To power Bloodwing for our flight," she said. "I swore not to violate human morals! You slaughter for convenience!" Outraged, he forgot his fear. "I won't follow you!"
"I only kill the wicked! I lured out evildoers," she explained, a rare concession from a princess unused to justifying herself. "I'm lustful—does that justify my death? Alf's theft didn't warrant execution! You baited him!" Isaac erupted. "Are humans nothing to you?"
She faltered, his words striking true. Some humans harbored evil but wouldn't act without temptation. Before she could retort, she heard a gasp. Georgina, hands over mouth, stared, then fled, crying, "No, you're not!"
"Isaac, catch her, or we're exposed!" Sophia roared, dodging the argument. Glaring back, he chased Georgina, tackling her. "You're not with vampires!" she sobbed. Binding her hands and legs over her skirt, he gagged her with torn cloth. Carrying her back, he asked, "What now?"
"May I take a little blood?" Sophia, shocked, sought his permission. "Fine, no harm." She bit Georgina, using a three-second field to implant a memory: Alf, a vampire, faked his death to feed, bound Georgina to silence her, but Isaac and Sophie chased him, never returning.
One Day Later, Lionnis, Near Grance's Encampment
In a double room at an inn, Sophia reluctantly asked, "Must I wear them?" as Isaac held the shackles. "To stop you baiting innocents," he said. "Your ghost said you can't escape." "Fine, we have the key," she sighed, extending her legs. Isaac shackled her booted feet, weakening them to human levels.
"I'm your captive now, Zack~" she teased, lightening the mood. "I protect you and humans, my lady," he said, still serious. Protect me? You freeze first, she thought, amused. "Don't be dour, tell a joke!" "Toads hop," he said.
She laughed, but the shackles tightened, merging her legs into a single lock. "Damn! These are enchanted sex shackles!" she cried. "They obey the 'master' who applies them, triggered by phrases. 'Toads hop' merged them!" "What now?" "Try random phrases—some must reverse it!"
"Ugh, it hurts…" "What?" "Nothing, try phrases!" Isaac spouted nonsense: "Salamanders eat cacti, kiwis fly, roosters kill pebbles…"
Unseen, Sophia grimaced, suppressing pain. Her Windleaf Town feast—two days' worth for a man—churned in her bowels, the shackles immobilizing her as agony mounted.
Is This the End?
Not quite. That same day, in Waterwheel Village, a 21-year-old, 1.7-meter woman arrived, exuding valor. Her wide-brimmed, near-conical hunter's hat marked her as a witch hunter. Shadowed, her deep burgundy hair peeked out. She wore a brown-black trench coat and brown leather pants.
A silver repeating crossbow, with a revolver-like magazine holding sixty bolts, hung on her back. A hand-and-a-half sword with a crossguard and a hunter's whip adorned her waist, alongside four flintlock pistols below her C-cup chest, a dagger, and thigh-mounted hand crossbows with auto-reloading mechanisms—one silver, one steel.
In a tavern, hat off, her stunning, fierce face shone. Shoulder-length burgundy hair framed a high nose and emerald eyes. Her black, high-collared shirt had a diamond cutout above her 34D breasts, edged with black lace, revealing her collarbone. White, Renaissance-style puffed sleeves reached her elbows. A red leather corset held daggers, and tight brown leather pants hugged her legs.
Her ornate-sheathed longsword rested on the table. Opposite sat Georgina, treated to dinner for information. Georgina's contradictory tale of vampire Alf puzzled the hunter. Offering a potion and a gold coin, she tested for mental tampering. "No spell traces? Peak magic or bloodline ability?" she muttered.
"Peak magic? The magic-savvy Julius clan? Or a bloodline?" Tossing a coin—heads—she bet on bloodline. "Only three clans' abilities are unknown; one's unlikely in Rosenland. Sapphisanis or Dominax? If Dominax, my target's close."
"Thanks, Georgina." Smirking predatorily, she donned her coat, crossbow, and hat, buckling her sword. "My prey, I'm coming."
Villagers whispered: "Who's she?" "High hat—trouble." "The worst kind." "Her badge?" "She's a Belmonta."