It was a collar.
It was a collar crafted from an unknown black metal, engraved with intricate and eerie patterns.
The edges were polished smooth, yet it still radiated a cold, suffocating aura.
At the front of the collar hung a small ring, also made of black metal, resembling a… leash ring.
Ling Xiya held the collar and slowly walked toward Isayat.
The sunlight filtered through the window, shining on her face — half in light, half in shadow — making her look both beautiful and terrifying.
Isayat’s pupils constricted violently.
When she saw exactly what was in Ling Xiya’s hands, her body couldn’t help but tremble.
This time, a sliver of genuine fear took hold.
“What… what are you doing with that thing?!”
Her voice rose sharply, carrying a hint of incredulous anger and a touch of panic that her boundaries were being breached.
She, the Demon Queen Isayat, was an existence who once ruled the Dark Realm and made countless beings tremble with fear at the mere mention of her name.
She could endure a temporary whipping, and she could pretend to have amnesia to observe Ling Xiya’s changes, but she could never tolerate this insulting thing that symbolized taming and belonging being worn around her neck!
‘This is worse than death!’
“Master, look, is it beautiful?”
Ling Xiya dangled the collar in front of Isayat, her tone carrying an innocent yet cruel playfulness.
“I think it suits you perfectly. Once you wear it, you will be my master alone, and you will never leave me again.”
“Get away!”
Isayat roared, using all her strength to struggle, wanting to pounce and tear apart the woman who dared to desecrate her dignity.
However, the Magic Restraint on her body had not been lifted yet, and her power was being suppressed.
She could only writhe her body in vain, letting out an angry howl.
“Ling Xiya! You madwoman! You dare! If you dare put that thing on me, I swear, I will definitely kill you! I will make you wish you were dead!”
“Kill me?”
Ling Xiya giggled as if she had heard a hilarious joke.
Her laughter was crisp, yet it carried a bone-chilling coldness.
“Master, you can’t even move right now, so how can you kill me? And… even if you could kill me, I would be willing. Being able to die at Master’s hands would be a kind of happiness, too.”
Her words became increasingly morbid.
“But before that, you must wear this. This is my… gift to you.”
She approached step by step.
Isayat’s struggling grew more intense, her angry curses and threats never-ending, but to Ling Xiya’s ears, they sounded like an accompaniment to the upcoming “taming” ceremony.
“Master, stop struggling,” Ling Xiya said, reaching out to gently stroke Isayat’s cheek with her ice-cold fingers, feeling the tremors beneath the skin.
“The more you struggle, the more excited I get. Look, your body is already telling me that you don’t actually… resist it, do you?”
Her other hand, holding the black collar, slowly drew closer to Isayat’s neck.
The icy touch of the collar made Isayat flinch violently.
She gritted her teeth, her eyes filled with humiliation and rage, and a hint of murderous intent even flashed within her pink eyes.
If looks could kill, Ling Xiya would have already died over 1,000 times.
“Ling Xiya… you will regret this…”
Isayat’s voice was low and husky, carrying a cold curse.
“Regret?”
Ling Xiya chuckled, her fingers already clicking the buckle of the collar.
“I will never regret being able to put this on Master.”
Click.
With a soft sound, the black collar finally fastened tightly around Isayat’s snow-white neck.
The cold metal pressed against her skin like a viper, winding around her breath and her dignity.
The small ring hung just below her chin, swaying slightly with her breathing.
Ling Xiya stared at the collar on Isayat’s neck, her eyes so obsessed they seemed almost watery.
She reached out and gently stroked the collar, feeling the coldness of the metal and the faint pulse in her master’s neck.
“So beautiful… Master, you look so beautiful wearing it…”
She murmured to herself, her face overflowing with a sense of satisfaction and happiness, as if she had completed a sacred ritual.
Isayat’s body froze.
She could clearly feel the presence of the collar, its icy touch, and its heavy weight, pressing down on her like a mountain and making it hard to breathe.
She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling as they hid the surging, complex emotions within — anger, humiliation, resentment, and a trace of despair she refused to admit.
‘I only pretended to lose my memory to see how deep this former Hero’s obsession was… I never expected her to be this insane. She actually… she actually put this thing on me!’
Ling Xiya didn’t seem satisfied yet.
She looked at the swaying ring and came up with a new idea.
She stood up, walked to the corner, and picked up the whip that had fallen to the floor earlier.
Then, she carefully threaded the end of the whip through the ring and tied a knot.
Having finished, she gave the whip a satisfied tug.
The collar tightened accordingly, and Isayat couldn’t help but let out a muffled groan.
“Master,” Ling Xiya said with a hint of cheerfulness and a tone of command, “now, come with me.”
Isayat snapped her eyes open, her pink irises bloodshot.
She stared fixedly at Ling Xiya like a cornered, enraged beast.
“You… are dreaming!”
“Is that so?”
Ling Xiya arched an eyebrow and applied a bit of force to the whip.
The collar tightened around Isayat’s neck, bringing a wave of suffocation.
“Master, do you want to taste what it feels like to choke? Or… do you want me to ‘love’ you with the whip again?”
She waved the whip in her hand, the threat implicit.
Isayat clenched her teeth, her body shaking violently from anger and humiliation.
She could feel that the power of the Magic Restraint remained strong, and the collar on her neck made her even more restricted.
She knew that, right now, she simply could not resist Ling Xiya.
Seeing that Isayat, though furious, had finally stopped her violent struggling, Ling Xiya smiled even more happily.
She knew that her master had…
“yielded.”
Even if it was only temporary, it was enough to make her ecstatic.
“That’s a good girl, Master.”
Ling Xiya smiled with satisfaction.
She pulled the whip connected to the collar, leading Isayat toward the bedside like a precious pet.
“Master, you’re tired and should rest. From today on, you don’t need to go anywhere. Just stay here and stay with me, okay?”
Her voice was as tender as a lover’s whisper, but to Isayat, it was more horrifying than the most vicious curse.
Ling Xiya pulled the whip, leading Isayat step by step toward the bed.
Isayat’s steps were heavy and slow.
Every step felt like treading on red-hot iron, filled with humiliation and resentment.
But the collar on her neck was like an invisible shackle, forcing her to move along with Ling Xiya.
Ling Xiya looked back at Isayat following her, at the collar that symbolized ownership, and at the humiliated yet stubborn expression on her face.
A sense of unprecedented satisfaction and conquest surged in her heart.
She finally felt truly “alive.”
Because her master — the once high-and-mighty Demon Queen Isayat — was now being “tamed” by her in this manner, feeling “pain” for her and “yielding” to her.
And this was merely the beginning.
She would slowly, bit by bit, turn her master into a possession that belonged only to her.
She would make it so her master could never leave her, could only look at her, think of her, and love her… even if it was in this morbid and insane way.