Time stretched into a slender thread within this absolute sensory hell.
Every second was entangled with suffocating, scorching heat.
Heroine Furenna maintained the kneeling posture, her body taut as a lute string on the verge of snapping.
Sweat no longer dripped; it streamed down the surface of her skin in rivulets,
spreading into a small, dark patch of wetness on the soft pink “ground” beneath her, only to be rapidly absorbed by the living-like material.
All of the young Heroine’s willpower was focused on combating the uncontrollable inferno within her—
that unfamiliar heat flowing from the depths of her marrow, those sensory stimuli amplified to their limit, the increasingly undeniable throbbing spreading from deep within.
Her lips were long since bitten to a bloody pulp, the taste of iron filling her mouth, becoming her only anchor against dizziness and surrender.
“Two minutes thirty seconds… thirty-one… thirty-two…”
She counted mechanically in her mind, the numbers like lifelines supporting her on the brink of collapse.
Her amber eyes were downcast, pupils slightly unfocused from extreme endurance, reflecting the pink surface below that seemed to undulate with her painful breaths.
Black spots began to appear at the edges of her vision, a buzzing filled her ears, mingling with the heavy, bellows-like rasp of her breathing and the pounding of her heart.
“Soon, almost there… just a few more seconds…”
It was then—
A faint, yet soul-chilling hum suddenly emanated from the metal shackle tightly fitted against the skin of her waist.
The sound wasn’t mechanical noise, but more like the resonance of some dormant, precise instrument awakening, its internal components beginning to operate.
Immediately after, the complex magical runes etched into the surface of the dark metal, like riverbeds finally brimming with energy, abruptly erupted with a blinding violet-black radiance!
The speed of the flowing light was faster than ever before, almost forming cascading waterfalls of luminescence on the surface.
This sudden change didn’t come from externally applied force. It was more like a pre-set mechanism waiting to be triggered.
When the ‘pressure’—incessantly generated, suppressed, and accumulated within Furenna by this room—reached a certain critical point…
The “mechanism” built into this meticulously designed “lock,” having waited patiently, was activated.
Click.
A sound so soft it was almost imperceptible, yet so clear it froze the soul, came from within the shackle.
It was the sound of a lock opening—no, quite the opposite.
It was the sound of an extremely precise internal control being turned, a declaration that a hidden interface had completed its “connection.”
Like a dam gate designed to block a certain flood, detecting that the water level had reached the warning line, automatically initiating its second contingency plan—
Not to release the flood, but to activate an internal circulation system, channeling the overloaded pressure into a pre-set, deeper closed circuit.
Furenna’s body stiffened violently.
A sensation of “presence,” cold, sharp, and unprecedented, pierced into her like the finest surgical instrument, without any warning.
It wasn’t pain, but a more terrifying cognition of “being invaded” and “being taken over.”
Through that ‘lock,’ it proclaimed absolute dominion over bodily functions.
It wasn’t a rough possession, but a precise, programmed ’embedding.
Like a key finding the only matching keyhole, turning in with perfect fit, fulfilling the ultimate purpose for which it was forged—
To complete the final seal and control, from within.
At this moment, this “lock” truly “closed” in its full meaning,
forming a self-circulating, perfect imprisoning loop.
“Ugh—!”
A gasp of pain, cut short to its limit, was forced out from between Furenna’s tightly clenched teeth.
Her pupils contracted to pinpoints. Her amber eyes instantly flooded with extreme shock and utter bewilderment,
followed by an overwhelming sense of collapse, as if her soul had been blasted from her body.
It was a blow that surpassed all her understanding and preparation.
Heroine Furenna could endure pain, could resist temptation, could scorn humiliation, could even grit her teeth under the lash of the soul.
But this unprecedented ‘method,’ beyond Heroine Furenna’s comprehension, instantly shattered all the defensive lines the young woman had built with her willpower.
The last straw, long prepared by its master, finally fell upon the camel’s back.
“Ahhh—!!!”
A fragmented cry of anguish finally broke through the blockade, carrying utter despair, and exploded within the pink room.
Simultaneously, her body, already strained to its limit, could no longer be controlled—
As if pierced by an intangible electric current, it began uncontrollable, intense trembling and convulsions, mingled with a profound sense of repulsion and powerlessness.
The contract’s constraint was triggered the moment the Heroine’s body lost control and moved significantly.
The balance she had barely maintained was completely shattered.
Almost at the exact moment of Furenna’s collapse, the one-hour time limit happened to reach its end.
She had failed.
When perhaps only ten seconds, or even less, from victory.
Furenna collapsed onto the soft ground, her body still twitching from lingering nerve reflexes, sweat, tears, and something more mingling as they trailed from the corner of her mouth.
The shackle, having completed its “activation,” fell silent again, but a more discomforting sense of “confinement” remained.
It was then that those impeccably polished black riding boots, almost mirror-like enough to reflect her current wretched state, once again stepped into the blurred periphery of Furenna’s vision.
The soles landed soundlessly on the soft ground, stopping not far from the side of her face.
Demon King Iris slowly crouched down, her crimson eyes gazing with interest at the Heroine sprawled on the ground like a flower ravaged by a storm.
A smile appeared on her face—a mix of perfectly appropriate surprise and regret, and unconcealed mockery.
“My, my…”
Demon King Iris’s voice rang out, its languid, playful tone exceptionally clear and grating in the silent room.
“What a pity, my dear little Heroine. Just the very last bit, about… ten seconds?
Perhaps even less than ten? You would have won this game, won back your so-called adorable dignity.”
She shook her head gently, as if genuinely feeling great regret,
but those crimson eyes sparkled with the gleam of a successful prank, and the pleasure of control of Everything.
“Why… why couldn’t you hold on at the very last moment, when victory was within reach?”
Demon King Iris used the tip of her boot to very lightly nudge Furenna’s side, which was still rising and falling from heavy panting. Her tone was full of fake sympathy and inquiry.
“You see, you persevered for so long, endured for so long, I was almost ready to applaud your willpower. So why did you fall short just before the finish line?”
Under the touch of the Demon King’s boot tip, Furenna flinched violently, like startled prey.
She wanted to pull away, but at this moment, she lacked even the strength to move a finger.
Tears blurred her vision; the young woman couldn’t clearly see the Demon King’s expression, but that voice, full of humiliation and derision, was like red-hot needles,
plunging one by one into her ears, piercing her already riddled with holes heart.
What made the Heroine breakdown even more was the implication hidden within the Demon King’s words—
She understood the cause of her failure perfectly, because Demon King Iris had never been seriously counting the time.
“Was it because the room was too warm? Or perhaps because…”
Demon King Iris leaned closer, bending down. Her warm breath, carrying a demonic quality, brushed over Furenna’s sweat-dampened ear. Her voice was low, laden with demonic temptation.
“…certain pre-set ‘safeguard measures’ finally played their intended role?”
“Lili Ai’s designs are always so considerate and effective, don’t you agree?”
“And they incidentally help you understand more clearly what you can control here, and what… you cannot.”
The words seeped like poisoned honey into Furenna’s already tottering psychological defenses.
The young Heroine wanted to retort, to curse in fury, but her throat could only produce shattered, choked gasps.
Iris straightened up,with satisfaction admiring Furenna’s disheveled appearance.
She knew this strike was, in essence, a victory at the cognitive level.
“It seems the outcome is decided.”
Demon King Iris’s voice regained its flatness, carrying the indisputable authority of a final verdict.
“According to the contract, you lost.”
“Now, it’s time to fulfill your promise, Heroine Furenna.”
She took a step back, once again extending that mirror-polished black riding boot forward.
The boot’s surface was like a black mirror, twistedly reflecting Furenna’s current state—tear-streaked, hair disheveled, eyes vacant—
and also reflecting Demon King Iris’s own face, wearing the composed smile of a victor.
“Come, complete the price of your defeat.”
Demon King Iris commanded. No trace of previous mockery remained in her voice, only the icy cold, irresistible rule.
“This is the contract’s content, and also the first rule you need to learn and remember here—”
She paused, her crimson eyes locking onto Furenna’s amber ones, enunciating each word clearly:
“Recognize what constitutes futile resistance, and what constitutes unbreakable command.”