Evening, Paris Streets
Princess Olivier de Guinea IV carried the naked Sophia, enveloped in blood wings, alongside two clerics, leaving the mage academy.
The streets were eerily silent despite the early evening. Dark clouds blocked the sun, casting a gloomy pallor.
The academy and the Church's cathedral were on opposite sides of the city, a long trek.
Sophia's mind was in chaos, a voice insisting this was her master's drill. She dared not speak much.
"Listen, I don't know who you are, but behave, or you'll regret it," Olivier said sternly, not as her savior but her jailer.
Unaware of Sophia's strength, Olivier carried her unbound—a risky move. Compared to Ding Yangchun and Clement, who treated her as a dog named "Domi," Olivier at least saw her as a lady, a hundredfold improvement.
Suddenly, four high vampires in blood-red knightly armor descended, instantly killing one cleric. Their armor marked them as Katarn Clan, melee specialists who fought like human knights despite being vampires. Three were Blood Knights, the clan's elite.
"High vampires after her? Retreat!" Olivier and the remaining cleric fled, the cleric's prayer casting a light that boosted their speed.
Sophia, with her unmatched psychic abilities, saw the vampires' vacant gazes—mind-controlled, likely by Clement, the city's only mage capable of such a feat.
She resolved not to be foolish again. But what if this was Ding Yangchun's drill?
A silver crossbow bolt shot from kilometers away, striking the non-Blood Knight vampire, who bolted toward the source.
Meteor's End? Anna? With the paladin's prayer, Anna's crossbow, and Olivier's noble greatsword Hrothgar, this wasn't a drill.
Sophia refused to become "Domi" again.
"Listen, knight! Put Domi down. Even sped up, you can't outrun three Katarn vampires. Fight!"
She was shocked to realize Ding Yangchun's training made her unable to say "I," only "Domi," his dog's name. No time for shame now.
"You witch, planning to escape with them?" Olivier distrusted her.
"They're controlled by Clement! They're after Domi to stage a rescue, only to recapture her!"
Again, she couldn't say "I." Ding Yangchun's insidious training stripped women of self, reducing them to animals. Had Olivier not taken her, she'd be a true dog by now.
Clement underestimated Sophia's swordsmanship and magic, thinking her merely a royal vampire. If Ding Yangchun fully tamed her into a slave dog, he could use her to conquer the world.
In a way, Olivier saved not just Sophia but Clement and the world.
"Why should I trust you?" Olivier, holding Sophia, couldn't draw his sword as the vampires closed in.
"If Domi wanted to escape, she'd have disrupted you when they appeared. Put Domi down, or we're both done!" Sophia dreaded returning to doghood; recapture could destroy her personality.
Olivier hesitated but saw no escape. With knightly grace, he gently set her down. "Behave."
Hrothgar unsheathed, its 170 cm blade, 10 cm wide, with a 50 cm hilt and meter-long crossguard, totaled over two meters. Despite its seven-kilogram weight, Olivier wielded it faster than Stone's two-kilogram Durandal, enhanced by divine power.
Katarn vampires, with innate magic resistance, were best fought in melee. Sophia silently praised Clement's skill in controlling four magic-resistant Katarns.
With divine power, shield, and grace, Olivier held off two Blood Knights. Katarn vampires, built for brawling with immense strength, magic resistance, and regeneration, had twice Sophia's power. Olivier, at his limit, would fall in a prolonged fight.
No time to worry for him. Another mind-controlled Katarn charged Sophia—their true target.
The cleric, no fighter, drew a shortsword for a last stand but fell to the Blood Knight in two moves. The knight then rushed Sophia.
Fear gripped her—unarmed, she couldn't resist. Capture meant losing Sophia Dominatrix forever.
A throwing knife flew from afar—Olivier glanced, spotting a gray-cloaked figure. Stone, it's been a while.
The knife pierced the Blood Knight's grabbing hand, buying Sophia a second.
She rolled to the cleric's corpse, seizing his shortsword.
The tide turned.
The Blood Knight didn't see his death coming as the shortsword pierced his brain.
Meanwhile, Olivier struggled against two Katarn Blood Knights, whose brute strength surpassed his divine power. A blade struck his left abdomen, blood flowing.
"Careful, knight!" Sophia shouted, spotting another knight aiming for his back.
The dead cleric's shortsword blocked the blow. Sophia's blood wings morphed into a coat, covering her nudity.
The Blood Knight's strength snapped the shortsword.
But for the world's greatest weapon master, a broken blade was deadly. It sliced into the tiny gap between the knight's gorget and helmet—one of fewer than ten beings capable of such precision.
The knight clutched his throat. The ordinary broken blade couldn't decapitate a Katarn, but it bought time.
"What are you doing, knight?" Sophia yelled at the stunned Olivier as another Blood Knight aimed for him. She threw the broken blade, blinding the knight's eye.
Olivier snapped back, praying to heal his wound slightly, then dueled the one-eyed knight. One-on-one, even a melee-specialized Katarn couldn't best Goulens' chief paladin, injured or not. Minutes later, Hrothgar's divine strike shattered the knight's blood armor, cleaving him in two.
Olivier, clutching his wound, turned to finish the throat-slashed knight. Neither holy healing nor clerical spells could fully mend it—only high elven healing or the pinnacle spell Dictum: Heal could, beyond human reach.
He forgot the throat-slashed knight hadn't attacked for minutes.
How had he survived?
Sophia sat on that knight's corpse, her coat covering her modesty, revealing only her upper chest and legs. She lounged, legs crossed, hands propped on the body. The knight's helmet, lacking a visor, had his own sword—stolen by Sophia as he clutched his throat—pierced through his face.
"You…" Olivier released his wound, aiming Hrothgar at her.
"If Domi wanted you dead, you'd be dead," Sophia said.
Olivier realized their skill gap was vast.
"What do you want?" he asked, sword still raised.
"Domi's your prisoner, heading to the Church's prison. But this place is under Clement's eavesdropping and tracking spells. Lower your sword—we must leave."
"You saved Domi. Domi won't flee or embarrass her rescuer knight," she added.
"Eavesdropping spells? So those vampires were Clement's?" Olivier noted Katarn knights, honor-bound, only fought one-on-one.
"Yes, knight. For our safety, take Domi away."
"Can you walk, Domi?" His wound made carrying her impossible.
"Don't call Domi that—it's a dog's name," Sophia blushed, haunted by Ding Yangchun's fear.
"Sorry, lady, let's go." Olivier grabbed the vampire restraint kit, and they fled.
Nearby, beside the bolt-riddled Katarn corpse, Anna crouched, aiming through Meteor's End's scope.
Isaac, also crouched, watched through Anna's monocular, feeling jealous.
"Why didn't Sophia escape with a sword?" Isaac asked.
Anna glared, returning to her scope. "Probably charmed by his chivalry. He didn't restrain her, trusted her enough to set her down. Fleeing would betray that trust, leaving him to bear the consequences. Would she still be a person—or vampire? You like that princess?"
Isaac's jealousy deepened. I'm her knight, yet I can't protect her now!
"Don't panic. She's safe until trial," Anna reassured. "Even private torture waits for the first judgment."
As a witch hunter who'd burned witches, judged werewolves, and tortured vampires, Anna knew Church protocols well.
"Isaac, Belmont, Teacher Lancas is still with Clement," Sergei said anxiously nearby.
"Damn, we're flies without a plan against Clement!" Anna, disheartened, punched the ground.
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Near the Cathedral
After running, they neared the cathedral. The streets, empty near the academy, grew populated but emptied again as night fell.
"Knight, you're bleeding," Sophia said, eyeing Olivier's abdominal wound. Facing two melee-specialized Katarn Blood Knights without magic or traps, even with divine power, was a feat few could match—perhaps Ricardo van Dyne could.
Ricardo… why did he make restraints for me? What did you do? I'll find out…
"It's nothing, lad—my lady," Olivier corrected, recalling her objection to "Domi."
"Domi's fangs are gone, or she could heal you."
"No, I don't need vampire healing." Olivier prayed, stopping the bleeding but not closing the wound.
"Knight, can you unlock and relock my shackles?" Sophia, far from the academy, realized Clement still owned her restraints.
"What trick is this?" The shackles, Church property studied by Clement a decade ago, suppressed vampire powers.
"If Domi wanted you dead, would she need them off?" She brandished the stolen vampire sword, proving her skill.
"Maybe you're gaining trust to escape."
"Domi could kill you and take the keys. Don't you get it?" She crossed her arms, exuding control with humility.
"This?"
"Knight, these shackles have a lewd command phrase. Clement can control Domi's limbs with it. Domi trusts your honor."
"You want me to take control?" Olivier couldn't believe this near-invincible vampire.
"You promised to protect Domi until trial. Won't you help?"
"Fine, no tricks." Olivier found a key in the kit, pulled her to a street corner, and relocked her shackles.
"Now you trust Domi?" Sophia smiled.
Somehow, the prisoner held the upper hand.
"Your real name?" Olivier asked.
"Domi… Domi…" Her psychological damage persisted.
"You're a princess and an angel, Princess Sophia," Isaac's voice echoed in her mind.
"Domi… I! I'm… I'm Sophia von Dominatrix!" Her body shook, mustering courage to reclaim "I" for the first time in days.
Olivier paused.
"You're Silandria's Impaler?" His voice mixed shock and disbelief.
"You don't believe those horror tales, do you?"
"Well…" His tone confirmed he did.
"Do I seem like that to you?" Saying "I" again thrilled her.
"I don't believe it," Olivier blurted. In half a day, Sophia saved him, could've killed him but didn't, and let him relock her shackles. Her confidence, dignity, and wisdom won him over.
"Worthy of the chief paladin," Sophia said.
"Call me Olivier, not 'knight.' You're no damsel—you saved me," he said through the cell door.
"You saved me, Olivier. You don't know the academy…" Sophia nearly choked, stopping.
Fear struck—was this Ding Yangchun's trick? Was Olivier fake? Would worse punishment come tomorrow?
His chivalry gave a false sense of safety, like her ex-lover who abandoned her.
True safety came only from… Isaac, seen in Fidel's castle, always trying to protect her.
"Lady Dominatrix?" Olivier sensed her fear.
"What, Olivier?" She suppressed her dread of Ding Yangchun.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine. Call me Sophia."
"Any needs I can help with?"
"Get Bishop Alan Castet for me."
"Why?"
"Tell him Silandria's Miss Sophie wants to see him."
"Alright, Sophia." His footsteps faded.
Even Olivier can't give me safety. No human knight can. Not with Ding Yangchun and Clement alive…
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Next Morning, Countess Chanel's Estate
"Zack heading out?" Countess Gabrielle Chanel, hair in an elegant updo, smiled warmly in a white, East-West fusion gown. Its mandarin collar and short sleeves echoed a qipao, but without slits, it had a Western fitted skirt, flaring subtly at the knees, accentuating her curves. A diamond-shaped neckline revealed her upper chest and deep cleavage.
"Yes, Gab, trouble abounds. This city's unsafe—you be careful too," Isaac said.
"I will, but Zack'll protect me, like you do Miss Lancas?" Chanel's mature smile hinted she knew Jane's plight and Isaac's mission.
"Of course, Gab, I'd never abandon you in danger."
Isaac and Anna left. Chanel watched Isaac, sensing his noble burdens despite his non-aristocratic roots. A rare sense of safety warmed her.
Servants closed the door.
A magical force blasted it open.
Four masked mage-knights stormed in, wielding sabers in their right hands and magic orbs in their left.
Chanel's guards fought but fell to a mage-knight's orb blast.
"Stop! You're here for me?" Chanel, unwilling to see more die, surrendered.
"No, Countess. Hand over your new guests, or you and your men suffer."
Zack and Anna? They don't know they just left…
"They moved to the south district," Chanel lied calmly.
"Is that so? Then you'll come with us as bait."
"You know who you're speaking to?" A guard stepped forward with a blade.
Bang! Lightning from a mage-knight's orb struck the guard, who screamed.
"Stop! I'll go," Chanel said, signaling her trembling butler.
The mage-knights bound her tall frame. In a white gown and 10 cm black heels, her curves were accentuated by lace stockings. They tied her forearms horizontally at her waist, perpendicular to her upper arms, with five or six tight loops, pinching her flesh.
"Can't you be gentler? I'm not a pig," Chanel protested.
"We didn't straight-arm bind you. This is a standard Japanese tie—generous treatment," a mage-knight said, binding above her prominent chest, securing her upper arms. Another rope below her chest fixed them further.
The tight ropes made Chanel instinctively grip her elbows—left hand on her right upper arm, right hand on her left elbow. Two ropes from her forearms' midpoint suspended them, easing her arm strain, then looped over her shoulders to her neck, aiming to split her chest's "mountains."
"Can't you use a less shameful tie? I'm a countess," Chanel said, turning her elegant face, her 173 cm height plus heels matching the tall mage-knight.
Her beauty swayed him. "Fine, at your request." Instead of splitting her chest, the ropes crossed in an X at her neck, looping under her armpits, tying to the chest ropes, and reinforcing her forearms.
"You promised obedience for sparing your chest," he said, adding ropes at her sides, between her upper arms and torso, forming vertical "cuffs" and a body brace. Diagonal ropes at her waist formed X's front and back, with a horizontal loop below, creating an hourglass "ⴵ" that cinched her waist, highlighting her curves.
"You're cooperative, Countess. More to add, but keep obeying," he said, producing black magical tape.
Chanel, knowing its purpose, closed her mouth, letting him tape it shut. Another strip blinded her.
Hands groped her unbound thighs, ropes wrapping them in a net of X-shaped ties, knotted at each intersection. Her legs, encased in her fitted gown, resembled a mermaid's tail, the skirt's end flaring like fins.
"Mmph! Mmphhh!" Chanel struggled futilely.
Bound like a mermaid again. Will Zack save me?
Oddly, she felt reassured.
A mage-knight hoisted the white-gowned "mermaid." Another held a golden trophy-like object, chanting. They vanished with the trophy, leaving a letter on the ground.