Chapter 28 : The Words That Burned Her Alive

Time rewinds—to the moment Stacy first left the house.

Milly stared at the scroll in her hands, eyes locked on the last line.

She didn’t understand most of the unfamiliar characters in the other lines.

But this one—she grasped its meaning instantly.

Even with missing words, the beginning and end told her everything.

“I am the mute dog of…”

Mute dog.

A dog that couldn’t speak.

Wasn’t that her?

The one who couldn’t yet speak properly, trapped in broken phrases and shame?

This was a test—to make her admit she was someone’s pet.

Her fingers twitched—crushing the urge to tear the scroll apart.

A flush of humiliation burned her cheeks.

If only she’d awakened her cheat ability!

Once she did, she’d make Stacy pay for every torment.

“Stacy… just you wait. One day, I’ll do everything you’ve done to me—right back onto you!”

She bared her tiny fangs, hissing like an angry kitten.

But it was all empty rage—spoken in her native tongue, where Stacy couldn’t hear.

By all transmigration rules, her lack of a cheat meant she hadn’t triggered the right event.

And so far, her luck had been terrible.

Turned into a soft, pushover white-haired loli? Fine.

First person she met? Stacy, the pervert goddess.

Then—imprisoned. Tortured daily.

Granted “freedom,” but only within the ground floor of the castle.

Now, transported to Starlight City—still locked in Stacy’s room.

No escape. No chance to trigger destiny events.

As long as she stayed, as long as she didn’t flee—her cheat would never awaken.

Her desire to run reached its peak.

But the cage door was locked.

The chain around her neck remained.

Even if she escaped—she didn’t know the city.

Didn’t fully grasp the language.

She’d be caught within minutes.

So she had no choice.

To survive. To prepare.

She had to absorb the remaining sigils.

She slipped off her nightgown.

Her gaze swept over her body—lingering on the few sigils still glowing faintly.

Her cheeks flushed.

All others had healed.

Only these—on sensitive spots—remained.

“These… are definitely her doing.”

Time was short. She had to finish before Stacy returned.

Reluctant, trembling, she touched the sigil on her inner thigh.

Magic surged into her—not pain, but a tingling warmth, spreading through her nerves.

“Mmm…” A soft moan escaped.

She grabbed her nightgown, stuffing it into her mouth to silence herself.

But as the magic flowed, pain melted into pleasure.

Her body trembled. Her fingers clenched the bars.

“Ngh… what is this…”

Panicked, she focused on the sigil near her chest—trying to override the pleasure with pain.

But when it activated—instead of agony—waves of intense shivers coursed through her.

Her breath quickened. Her face burned.

Her body betrayed her mind—sinking into the sensation.

“Damn it, Stacy… is this what you wanted?”

Caught between pain and ecstasy, her consciousness swayed—like a leaf in a storm.

To escape the pleasure, she activated them all.

One by one—all remaining sigils ignited at once.

A tsunami of magic crashed into her.

Too much.

Too fast.

Her soul screamed—but the pain transformed.

Flames erupted across her skin.

New sigils burned into her flesh—renewing themselves even without Stacy present.

Each new mark flooded her with magic—amplifying her suffering.

Yet—

With each surge, the fog over the foreign language in her mind thinned.

Until it vanished.

Gasping, she tried to scream—but from her lips spilled not sound, but words:

“𓍦𓍧𓍨”

Like a forbidden incantation, a tearing sensation ripped through her spine.

Something—emerging.

But before she could see it—

Her body gave out.

Eyes rolled back.

She collapsed—unconscious.

Yet the flames continued.

New sigils formed.

Magic poured in—relentless.

Her reckless act nearly killed her.

When she woke—night had fallen.

The pain was gone.

Her body—healed.

But inside her mind—

The once-gibberish script now felt as natural as her mother tongue.