Chapter 4: Feigned Submission

The prison was engulfed in deathly silence and darkness, with only a faint laugh echoing from a corner, drifting nearer and farther away.

“Hahahahaha! Hero… what a brave hero you are indeed!”

That laughter carried mockery and pity as it reverberated against the stone walls.

“Why are you still holding on? What’s there to hold on to? What’s the point of holding on?”

The hero slowly raised her head, sweat sliding down from her temple.

Not far away, the phantom leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, a wicked smile on her face.

“No…” she spoke hoarsely, her voice weary yet still tinged with stubbornness.

“I won’t be tempted by you.

You’re not me.

I will never become you.”

“Tempt?”

The phantom tilted her head and chuckled softly, as if she had heard something ridiculous.

“Do I really need to tempt you?

Look—”

She stepped closer at an unhurried pace and said with a smile.

“You yourself are sliding toward that abyss… constantly slipping, constantly collapsing into it.

I can feel it.

Every second, every moment, you’re sinking deeper.

The harder you resist, the more painful and the faster the fall becomes.”

The phantom moved behind the hero and leaned over her shoulder, resting there lightly.

Warm breath brushed against her ear as her voice turned gentle.

“I believe… it won’t be long before you completely become me.”

The phantom lightly bit her earlobe and whispered.

“I’m really looking forward to that day~”

The hero lowered her head, fists clenched tight, nails digging into her palms.

What was she thinking?

Even she herself couldn’t say.

Escape?

Hatred?

Or that fleeting image of terror—of the Demon King’s embrace?

The phantom laughed softly and patted her shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid, hehe… it won’t be painful.

When you finally accept me, you’ll feel that—

So this is how simple liberation really is.”

Just then—

“Bang!”

The prison door was pushed open once more, the Demon King’s figure standing at the entrance.

She looked at the hero hanging there with her head lowered, the corner of her mouth lifting into an amused smile.

“What’s wrong?

Talking to the version of yourself in your head again?

It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?

That feeling of two consciousnesses tearing at each other?”

The hero did not answer.

She simply hung there quietly, as if her soul had already been pulled away.

The Demon King’s gaze turned cold, her tone sinking sharply.

“How arrogant.”

Before the words even finished, she raised her hand and swept it downward.

Countless hair-thin currents of electricity instantly wrapped around the hero’s body.

Like living creatures, they burrowed into her skin, muscles, and nerves, blasting straight toward the core of her consciousness.

In an instant, her body arched violently, her eyes rolling back as broken whimpers escaped her throat.

This was not mere pain.

It was an extreme impact that burned through rationality piece by piece, leaving her unable even to think of who she was.

“Ah… ahhh…”

She trembled as saliva spilled uncontrollably from the corner of her mouth, her consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind.

The Demon King crouched down and lifted her chin with a fingertip, admiring her vacant eyes as she chuckled softly.

“Hero, become my wife.

I’ll give you a beautiful name…

From then on, you’ll belong to me alone.”

The hero struggled to breathe, her red eyes locked tightly onto the Demon King.

She said nothing.

Her silence was the last line of resistance.

The Demon King, however, did not mind at all.

Instead, she grew even more excited.

She leaned in and whispered by her ear.

“Hahahahaha… interesting, truly interesting.

Someone standing on the edge of madness only needs the slightest push from me, and your reason will completely fall apart.”

She paused, a deep gleam flashing through her eyes.

“Do you know?

The way you look right now is closer to being complete than at any other moment.”

“You…”

The hero finally forced out a sound, hoarse and weak.

“Did you… alter Sylvia and the others’ cognition?

Why?”

The Demon King smiled, her expression seductive and mysterious.

“Because I need them.”

She spoke slowly.

“But I need you even more.”

“Why?”

The hero stared at her, her voice trembling.

“Why do that to Sylvia…

Turn her into your wife?

Change everything about her?”

The Demon King extended a finger and gently traced along the hero’s lips.

Her gaze suddenly grew deep, carrying an indescribable emotion.

“Because I want…”

She whispered.

“To make her suffer because of you.

And also to let her be happy because of you.”

The hero’s pupils shrank violently.

Despair and fear surged stronger than ever before.

“Give me… some time to think.”

The hero finally spoke.

The Demon King raised an eyebrow, a playful glint flashing through her eyes before she laughed softly.

“Think?

Sure.”

She loved watching prey make their own choices.

And she loved even more the look of despair when they chose wrong.

She turned around with a smile and said.

“However—your time is running out.”

The Demon King cast one last glance at the hero and turned away.

The prison door closed heavily behind her, leaving nothing but silence.

In the darkness, the phantom’s figure appeared once again, a bewitching smile on her face as her laughter echoed.

“Hahahahaha! Accept me~

I can free you from this endless pain and struggle.

As long as you let go of that ridiculous obsession, everything will become simple.”

The hero kept her head lowered, long hair hiding her face.

After a moment, a low and twisted laugh spilled from her throat.

“Hahahahahahaha…”

The phantom froze.

“You can’t.”

The hero slowly raised her head, red eyes gleaming with resolute light in the darkness.

“You don’t have that power.

Do you think I can’t see your weakness?

You’re just my torn shadow.

A hallucination parasitizing my consciousness.”

“Oh?”

The phantom narrowed her eyes with interest.

“Then tell me, what are you thinking right now?”

“I’m thinking…”

The hero curled her lips into a cold smile, her voice lowered almost to a whisper, yet carrying a ruthless edge.

“A plan.”

“Oh?

Let’s hear it.”

The phantom tilted her head, her smile deepening.

“Feign submission.”

The hero said quietly, each word scraping like a blade across stone.

“Accept your existence.

Accept the Demon King’s ‘grace.’

Let her lower her guard.

And then, when she is at her most complacent…

Find an opening.

Accumulate strength.

Wait for the moment of revenge.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“I will succeed.

I will take everything back.

And I will personally grind all of you—

Under my feet.”

The phantom froze for a moment, then burst into even louder laughter.

“Hahahahaha!

What a wonderful plan!

So dangerous…

And so beautiful.”

She clapped her hands, excitement blazing in her eyes.

“Knowing it’s an abyss, yet jumping in willingly, just to crawl back out one day and bite back?

Little fool, I’m liking you more and more.

Come.

Let me give you a hand.”

The hero did not respond.

She simply lowered her head, hiding the surge of calculation and fear in her eyes.

No one knew how much time passed—

“Click.”

The prison door opened once again.

The Demon King walked in slowly, her gaze settling on the hero hanging from the cross.

Her head was still lowered, but her posture was no longer as defiant as before.

“Little hero,”

The Demon King laughed softly.

“Have you made your decision?”