The Sacred Mark

“Hey, I said, you can kill me but don’t humiliate me! If you’re going to do it, hurry up! I’m naked and freezing here!”

Selina gritted her teeth, her voice trembling with humiliated fury.

In the room, her freshly bathed, delicate skin was exposed to the air. Bathing and burning incense were prerequisites for significant rituals, unavoidable for an elven princess like her.

Karina crouched behind her, studying the girl’s flawless, jade-like back. Hearing her daughter’s complaints, a sly amusement flickered in Karina’s emerald eyes.

“What’s this? Shy about baring your body before your mother? No need to worry—your dear mother’s already seen every inch of you~”

The teasing words hit Selina’s ears. If her nails hadn’t been trimmed regularly by Cuibis, she might’ve clenched her fists hard enough to draw blood.

What kind of talk was this?

She’d barely survived Felicia’s teasing and the bath. After dutifully enduring the incense ritual in the quiet room to ensure her body was clean and fragrant, she came to Karina’s chamber, bracing for the pain of the Sacred Mark.

But before it even began, she was stripped bare, her back exposed in a mortifying pose.

Her delicate body, fresh from bathing, shivered at the slightest breeze. And this sly woman had the nerve to tease her?

Outrageous! When will guys stand tall again?!

Oh, right—she wasn’t a guy anymore. Never mind…

Biting her lip, Selina knew she was under Karina’s roof—and outmatched in both status and strength.

Rebellion was futile. Staying rational, she sat stiffly on the floor, awaiting her “dear mother” to inscribe the Sacred Mark, imbued with maternal protection, on her exquisite body.

“And your words just now were quite crude, not ladylike at all. If my good daughter doesn’t apologize properly, I might just stay right here, unmoving…”

“You know, until the Sacred Mark ritual is complete, you can’t leave this position or the room.”

Karina leaned closer, her lips near Selina’s ear, warm breath tickling her sensitive nerves. A tingling sensation surged through Selina, her body trembling uncontrollably, her breathing quickening.

Feeling her blood race unnaturally, she was near tears. Why was everyone like this today? Felicia, usually gentle and proper, had forced closeness in the bath, eating up her “tofu” without Selina gaining any advantage. Now her mother was spouting nonsense about being a good daughter and facing her body…

What’s with you elves? Aren’t you supposed to be symbols of purity and virtue? Why do I only see shamelessness seeping through your words and actions?

And this body—primed to be a walking weapon of allure! If she weren’t a noble elven princess but had transmigrated into some risqué game world, she’d be rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue, utterly broken in minutes!

To lessen her humiliation and embrace the “short pain over long” principle, Selina, swallowing her pride, spoke in a soft, trembling voice laced with a sob.

“M-Mother, I’m sorry… Selina won’t do it again. I’ll embrace my body and identity, fulfilling my duties as a princess.”

Her words shattered what little masculine dignity remained. What kind of depraved speech was this? Damn, this elven race was all wrong!

Report! I’m reporting this—this is a den of debauchery!

“Hmm, as your mother, I feel your resolve to correct your mistakes. No more crude tones with others, alright?”

“Yes.”

Selina nodded, humiliated, desperate for this to end. Every second here was mental torture.

“Now, recite the lines.”

Karina nodded, clearly savoring this “educating her daughter” process, masterfully forcing Selina to adopt feminine behaviors as if she’d been through it herself…

“Please, Mother, bestow the Sacred Mark upon me.”

Selina recited the awkward lines, trembling, then tightly shut her eyes, bracing herself.

As her voice fell, Karina’s demeanor turned solemn, exuding the regal aura of an Empress.

Something ignited in her emerald eyes. She sliced her fingertip with a special blade, blood flowing. Golden light gathered at her fingertip.

Using her finger as a pen, Karina pressed it to Selina’s back. The moment it touched, a faint sizzling sound accompanied wisps of white smoke.

A searing pain engulfed Selina’s body. Had she not been prepared and strong-willed, she’d have screamed at the first stroke.

Each stroke, drawn with blood, etched the mystical Sacred Mark onto her tender skin.

With every move of Karina’s finger, Selina’s face paled further. Despite clenched teeth, cold sweat dripped from her forehead.

Now she truly understood the agony Felicia endured during her marking.

Elves’ delicate bodies made the process—akin to branding with molten iron—excruciating. The boiling elven divine blood, hotter than melted metal, was unbearable without immense resolve.

This torment, like being plunged into molten lava, was beyond ordinary endurance. Yet Selina endured silently, her past as Kant resurfacing vividly…

Back then, her body bore countless grisly wounds. A thief’s life was lived on a knife’s edge—cuts, burns, frostbite, poison—all dragging her to death’s door repeatedly.

She’d survived them all. A mere Sacred Mark wouldn’t break her now!

More importantly, if Felicia endured without a cry, how could she be weaker?

Karina, inscribing the mark, monitored Selina’s state.

Through their small point of contact, she felt her daughter’s trembling.

The pain was unavoidable; the divine blood, hotter than molten iron, was both powerful and dangerous.

But such sacrifices were necessary for protection. The more Sacred Marks an elf could bear, the greater their talent. Karina didn’t know Selina’s inner resolve to match Felicia, or she’d have smiled wryly.

Her daughter, determined not to be outdone, had already surpassed her.

Felicia fainted from pain after two marks, but Selina was enduring her third.

The Elven Ancestor God was right—Selina was a perfect candidate for an elven princess.

Inscribing three marks wasn’t just for protection but also served Karina’s selfish desire.

With these, if her mischievous daughter fled and faced threats from old foes outside, the marks would activate, showing them whose daughter they dared provoke!