A Twisted Confession

“Lady Saranya, mmph—”

Beneath Saranya’s palm, the priestess’s throat subtly convulsed.

Saranya, battered and bruised, could not support herself for long. Her body swayed before she tumbled forward, collapsing onto Paresha.

Paresha trembled, then eagerly wrapped her arms around Saranya’s waist.

“Xiao Sha, Xiao Sha will be obedient… Please, Sister… punish Xiao Sha…”

Saranya had to admit that Paresha truly knew how to ignite her desires.

Kaelan had taught her well.

Paresha possessed a genuine allure. Though her beauty might not rival the flawless perfection of the little witch, her charm lay in her pure demeanor.

Stripped of her usual assertive facade, Paresha, as a priestess, emanated a subtle, almost sacred aura.

Seeing such a sacred maiden kneel in submission to her alone, even actively requesting her to be the aggressor… to claim she felt no strange desires stirring within her would be a lie even a ghost wouldn’t believe.

“Paresha, you…”

Paresha’s figure was well-proportioned and shapely. A delicate stretch of collarbone and her snow-white, rounded shoulders were all exposed above the open collar of her shirt.

Saranya swallowed hard, her gaze slowly rising to meet Paresha’s.

Indeed, Paresha was watching her too. Beside the black eye patch, the maiden’s single intact, beautiful eye was misty, gazing up at Saranya with an intense, greedy fixation, her pupils brimming with a twisted anticipation.

Only now did Saranya truly understand that the words ‘purity’ and ‘corruption’ were not, in fact, contradictory.

“…!”

After a moment of hesitation, Saranya forcefully pushed herself back, slamming Paresha against the wall, and delivered a resounding slap across her face.

“Snap out of it!”

She needed to rage. She had to use her fury to cleanse her tumultuous thoughts, to violently drag Paresha back onto the right path.

“Don’t be like this! Don’t look at me like that! You can’t… I forbid you from calling me ‘Sister’ in such a depraved tone!”

Paresha raised a hand to cover her reddened, swollen cheek, continuously licking her moist, glistening lips. She neither defended herself nor drew away, instead actively leaning closer.

Her actions had no effect whatsoever. After enduring the blow, Paresha was utterly captivated by an indescribable pleasure. Under Saranya’s oppressive gaze, the maiden trembled more violently, parting her lips gently to utter the infuriating address once more.

“Sister…”

It was only when tears began to patter onto the ground that Saranya realized she was crying.

“Shut up!”

Wiping away her tears, Saranya tightened her grip in a furious rage, making Paresha’s face turn crimson, her throat beginning to gurgle for air. Still unsatisfied, Saranya delivered another slap to the other side of her face.

Smack!

With a crisp sound of flesh colliding, Paresha’s head snapped to the side. A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, and her fair, smooth cheek rapidly swelled and reddened.

“Fight back… fight me! You spineless wretch… what’s the point of living like this?! Either stand up and resist me, or let me choke you to death right here!”

“Sis… Sister…”

Paresha swayed unsteadily, grasping Saranya’s arm that was clamped around her throat. At the same moment, the black eye patch slipped from the maiden’s face, fluttering to the floor.

Saranya saw the girl’s blind eye tightly shut, and between the grotesque, ugly claw marks of a monster, clear tears slowly welled and overflowed.

Saranya’s expression melted.

Guilt, thoughts of weakness… these emotions instantly gained the upper hand.

Saranya released Paresha, retreating backward in alarm. Yet, Paresha clung to her tightly throughout, refusing to let her move even a single step away.

“I’m so… so sorry, Paresha, I—”

She suddenly realized that her resentment, that intense animosity that made her wish to kill the other, wasn’t entirely rooted in her desire to possess her master exclusively, nor was it due to her disappointment in Paresha.

It wasn’t like that at all.

Saranya hated herself.

She lacked the ability to control the situation, to rein in Kaelan’s twisted nature. Not only did she indulge and cooperate with the witch herself, but she also allowed the witch to harm others.

Kaelan was the perpetrator, Paresha the victim, and Saranya herself was an accomplice.

Paresha had once looked up to her as an example, and Saranya had seen a reflection of herself in Paresha. Now, in her own wretched state, she had finally found a willing punching bag to unleash her grievances upon.

A punching bag that was, disturbingly, perfectly willing to be manipulated by her.

“Sister… you can continue… to scold… me…”

“You are not allowed to speak…”

“…”

Saranya dispelled her ice armor, and the wounds on her body ruptured anew. Warm blood gushed from her mangled lower half, leaving faint pink trails down her smooth calves.

“How about we make a deal?”

“Hm… hm?”

Paresha looked up at her, her expression confused and disoriented.

“Paresha, I don’t need you to obey me. This is my command.”

Saranya whispered, her voice both gentle and bewildered, issuing a contradictory command to Paresha. Her hand, which had been pressed against Paresha’s neck, slowly released its grip, moving to gently stroke her back.

Unable to change the current reality, she could only do her utmost to comfort the other girl, her words akin to a desperate plea.

“I want you to change back, to be how you were before… Can you do that for me?”

“Lady Saranya… like this… like this I’ll…!”

However, Paresha’s attention wasn’t on Saranya’s words. The moment Saranya’s hand pressed into her spinal groove, the priestess stiffened as if electrocuted, her body seized by an exceptionally violent tremor.

“Uh… ah…”

“What’s wrong?”

Saranya was taken aback, unable to comprehend Paresha’s extreme sensitivity. To steady her, Saranya increased her pressure. As their eyes met, Paresha’s body, after a spasm of trembling, suddenly went rigid again, her eyes wide, pupils contracted to pinpricks.

Hoo~♡

Paresha let out a short, sharp cry. Her undergarments were instantly drenched by a warm stream. Saranya, affected by this, looked down to examine her own damp legs, then glanced back at Paresha, the cause of it all, utterly dumbfounded.

A faint, strange odor began to permeate the room.

“I’m so… sorry…”

Paresha regained a sliver of awareness, her face drained of all color, as pale as death.

“Lady Saranya… please don’t hate me…”

Judging by her initial reactions, the girl must have expected Saranya to erupt in fury and inflict even greater cruelty.

Clearly, Paresha was prepared for punishment and scorn.

“I’m sorry… Xiao Sha made you dirty…!”

“…”

“It’s alright, you didn’t.”

Saranya simply embraced Paresha, and the two of them swayed gently against the wall.

“You didn’t make me dirty. You and I, we are both the same…”

She wasn’t lying; her feelings for Paresha weren’t pity. They truly were alike, living wretched lives, torn apart by conflicting emotions and desires.

Saranya had no right to accuse Paresha, nor did Paresha need her to be a savior.

All two scarred maidens could do now was comfort each other, leaning on one another to survive.