The Price of Freedom

“What do you want of me…?”

“Hey… Saranya…”

“Please… I beg you…”

“Wake up…”

Kaelan’s broken whispers, filled with anguish, ceaselessly assailed Saranya’s ears.

Kaelan, who had uttered these confessions, whose true intention was to plead for Saranya’s forgiveness, had ironically inflicted even greater cruelties upon her.

Clamping her legs together, she protected her swollen lower body, leaning against the bedside as she gasped in agony.

Her first intimate encounter had truly been a wretched one…

Yet, she held no blame for her master.

Kaelan’s helplessness and despair were undeniably genuine; Saranya found herself capable of understanding her master.

Their twisted connection had, from its very inception, been rooted in violence. The witch had forcibly claimed Saranya’s body, slowly eroding her spirit through intimidation and coercion. Kaelan made no attempt to conceal her ‘love’ for Saranya, yet she had never, from the outset, known how to nurture a healthy relationship.

Kaelan’s ‘love’ for her was entirely one-sided, a raw and brutal possessiveness. She treated Saranya as a mere object, much like a child clinging stubbornly to a cherished toy. The moment Kaelan perceived the possibility of losing her beloved plaything, she would invariably descend into a state of panic, even emotional collapse, regressing into the petulant demeanor of a wilful child.

This latest instance of Kaelan’s loss of control, while appearing to be an abuse of power, a superior indulging her whims to torment a subordinate, was in fact quite the opposite. The truly vulnerable and utterly terrified party in this equation was the abuser herself: Kaelan.

In a sense, Saranya herself bore some fault. Though Kaelan had initially been tyrannical, her emotional landscape was still a blank canvas. Kaelan had instinctively resorted to the violence she knew best in their relationship, and Saranya had possessed the opportunity to guide her, yet she had failed to do so.

It was her gradual submission and quiet indulgence that had, step by step, led the witch to become the person she was now.

“Master…”

‘It’s alright,’ she thought. ‘I will take responsibility. I will take responsibility for Kaelan, just as she is.’

‘Because I am the same, aren’t I…? My master’s fierce desires, her yandere tendencies—they all stir something within me… I no longer wish to leave her. We are destined to be perfectly matched, the master and I…’

‘I will embrace this truth, and I will strive to cultivate my master. I must make her understand that beyond inflicting torment upon me, she can also, in turn, depend on me…’

‘I, too, wish to… I wish to possess my master, just as she possesses me…’

She held an unshakeable belief that the roles of master and s*ave were, inherently, interchangeable.

As Saranya organized her thoughts, a sudden chill spread through her mouth, followed by a rush of foul, bitter liquid flooding her throat. She was forced to swallow the concoction, gulping it down before collapsing over the edge of the bed, wracked by dry heaves.

Beside her, Kaelan trembled, dropping the medicine bottle with a clatter before pulling Saranya into a desperate embrace.

“I’ll do anything, Saranya.”

“Master…?”

“Before you drink that second bottle, if you only promise to forgive me, I will do anything for you…”

After several rounds of her outburst, Kaelan finally seemed to regain some clarity, her concern shifting once more to Saranya’s forgiveness. This utterly childlike display prevented Saranya from harboring any resentment; instead, she found it both amusing and tender.

“Hehe… Mwah~”

Saranya gently kissed Kaelan, her arm wrapping around the witch’s waist. They collapsed back onto the bed, side by side, their long, waterfall-like black hair intertwining. Their noses brushed, and they exchanged fervent breaths.

‘Comfort,’ she mused. ‘I need to comfort my master. Now that she’s just entered her ‘sage mode,’ this is the perfect moment for me to exert my influence.’

“Anything, you say?”

“Mmm, mmm…”

“Making such a mess in Mor’s grandfather’s house, treating an old man’s bedroom like a brothel… you truly have no shame, do you?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Do you know, Master, in our human world, taking a girl’s first time is a very serious matter, you know…”

“Serious…?”

“It means you have to take responsibility for it.”

“Is it… like a contract?”

“Nahh…”

Saranya pouted, feigning disappointment. Seeing this, Kaelan’s expression flickered with panic, and she quickly leaned in to kiss Saranya, offering comfort.

“You care about my opinion?”

Saranya intertwined her fingers with Kaelan’s, her lips brushing against the witch’s ear as she exhaled a soft puff of warm air. Because her lower body still throbbed, her breaths were exceedingly careful, a low hum resonating deep in her throat. The scene, ironically, made it seem as if she were the one seducing Kaelan.

“See? This is a wonderful beginning… To be cared for by my master, Saranya is very happy…”

“I don’t understand these things…”

Kaelan shivered slightly as she felt the warm breath caress her cheek, and a film of mist slowly clouded her eyes.

“What things?”

“My caring for you… is that… correct?”

Hearing her master utter such words, a warmth bloomed within Saranya’s heart, and her gaze softened, shimmering slightly.

“All I can say is, it’s normal… Many things in this world cannot be judged by right or wrong. Your own feelings are what truly matter, Kaelan.”

“Then… if I want to take responsibility for you, what should I do…?”

‘It seems the little witch is quite amenable, after all.’

“Ah… ouch…”

Just as Saranya prepared to speak, a sudden, needle-like pain lanced through the back of her head.

Kaelan immediately wrapped her arms around Saranya, instinctively reaching for the second bottle of medicine on the bedside table. However, she abruptly recalled something, and her arm froze mid-air, slowly lowering itself.

“The first dose is taking effect, we should hurry… You, you want freedom, don’t you? If you don’t forgive me… I won’t let you—”

“Yes.”

Ignoring Kaelan, Saranya snatched the medicine bottle from the bedside table and brought it before herself.

To her surprise, Kaelan did not stop her. Instead, she merely fixed Saranya with wide, watery eyes, her gaze brimming with despair and supplication.

“I told you, I won’t forgive you. I don’t have that power.”

“Wuwu…!”

Kaelan instantly burst into tears, astonishingly kneeling before Saranya on the bed. She clasped her fists and heavily knocked her forehead against Saranya’s knee.

“Saranya, Saranya! After you drink the potion and break the spell, don’t… don’t leave me… and don’t hate me… Please… I beg you… just stay with me…”

Saranya sighed, lowering her head as she slowly twisted open the bottle’s stopper.

“If I have no other choice, I’ll still resort to violence! Saranya! I’ll… I’ll teach you a harsh lesson… I’ll… re-educate you… Don’t force me like that… Wuwuwu—”

Before Saranya’s knees, Kaelan whimpered out various threats in a feeble voice, already a small, tear-streaked mess.

“Please—huh?!”

Amidst her master’s choked pleas, Saranya inverted the bottle, pouring its entire contents onto the floor.

“I won’t drink this medicine.”

‘Indeed, if drinking this potion meant freedom, and that freedom entailed hating my master and leaving her, then I would rather forgo such a false liberty.’

‘Compared to that, the yearning for my master, etched into my very soul, is what truly matters…’

“Saranya…”

“There must be another way, mustn’t there, Master? Since you’re willing to do anything for me, then…”

Saranya drew Kaelan into her embrace, gently nibbling on the witch’s earlobe.

“I want you to help me find a way to gain my freedom without ever having to leave you.”

“You don’t understand…”

As her sensitive earlobe was assailed, Kaelan’s eyes grew hazy, and she gradually began to savor Saranya’s ministrations, murmuring in a faint, breathy voice.

“You still don’t understand, Saranya… It’s impossible…”