***
(This book was released from prison a few days ago, but well, the plot still needs to be changed; I’ll update it occasionally, but whether it can survive, I don’t know)
The maids stepped forward expressionlessly and began to forcibly strip the tattered prison uniform off Ling Xiya.
Ling Xiya closed her eyes in humiliation, feeling the coarse fabric being peeled away, and then, the silky maid outfit that symbolized endless shame was forced onto her body.
The short skirt tightly hugged her hips, the hem so short it barely covered her thighs; the lace across her chest made it difficult to breathe, and the stockings squeezed her calves, making every step feel incredibly bizarre.
When she was forced to put on the maid shoes with bells and stood up, Luo Ling felt like a puppet clown.
She could feel the cold gazes cast by the maids, and even more so, she could feel Isayat’s eyes scrutinizing her like prey.
“Hmm… it fits well enough.”
Isayat walked a circle around her, as if admiring a newly finished work of art, “Though your movements are still too stiff and your eyes are a bit too fierce. But it doesn’t matter; we have plenty of time to slowly ‘get along’.”
She stopped in front of Ling Xiya and nodded with satisfaction:
“From now on, you shall be called ‘Ling Xiya’. Inheriting your previous title, isn’t it?”
“I am not Ling Xiya! I am Luo Ling! I am the Hero Luo Ling!”
Luo Ling—or rather, Ling Xiya, who was now forced into a maid outfit—shouted with all her might, her voice hoarse and desperate.
She suddenly lunged at Isayat, wanting to take her down with her.
However, as soon as her body moved, she was restrained by an even stronger magical force, unable to move.
Isayat frowned slightly, seemingly somewhat impatient with her resistance.
She raised her hand, and a black Energy Whip Shadow appeared out of thin air, whistling as it lashed viciously across Ling Xiya’s back!
“Pa!”
The crisp and loud sound of the whip echoed through the stone cell.
Intense pain instantly spread through her entire body, as if her bones had been snapped.
Ling Xiya let out a muffled groan, her body collapsing uncontrollably to her knees as sweat and tears mingled together, dripping onto the cold floor.
The maid outfit on her back was instantly torn, leaving behind a deep crimson bloodstain.
“Tsk.”
Isayat flicked her wrist, the black Energy Whip Shadow dissipating in her palm, leaving only a faint scent of sulfur in the air.
She looked down at the figure curled on the ground, her tone cold, “It seems the Hero Luo Ling’s bones aren’t much tougher than an ordinary person’s.”
She, who could now only be called Ling Xiya—bit her lip hard, refusing to let any sound of weakness escape.
The wound on her back burned with pain, and every breath brought a searing agony, as if countless needles were piercing her.
Sweat soaked the stray hairs on her forehead, sticking them to her skin, cold and uncomfortable.
Humiliation, anger, resentment… various emotions churned in her chest, nearly tearing her apart.
“Raise your head.”
Isayat’s voice carried an unquestionable command.
Ling Xiya clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms, the sharp pain helping her maintain the last shred of consciousness.
She stubbornly kept her head down, her long eyelashes covering her eyelids, hiding the surging tears and hatred within.
“It seems the lesson just now wasn’t enough.”
Isayat’s voice grew a few degrees colder.
Ling Xiya felt an invisible force seize the back of her neck, forcing her to jerk her head up, her gaze compelled to meet Isayat’s eyes, which were as deep as the night sky.
There was no emotion in them, only absolute control and indifference, as if looking at a lifeless object.
“Remember, from now on, you are Ling Xiya. A maid who serves me.”
Isayat’s fingers lightly brushed across Luo Ling’s pale cheek, the movement possessing a bone-chilling gentleness,
“Your past, your name, your so-called ‘mission’, are all things of the past. If you still want to preserve a shred of dignity, or rather, if you still want to live, then play your new role well.”
“I won’t…”
Ling Xiya’s voice was so hoarse it was almost tuneless; she wanted to roar again, to reject this absurd reality.
But before she could finish, a powerful mental shock suddenly stabbed into her mind!
It was as if countless cold insects were gnawing at her nerves, causing a splitting headache that made her vision turn black in waves.
She groaned in pain, her body trembling violently, her consciousness feeling as though it were being torn apart by this power.
“Ugh… ah…”
She curled up on the floor, clutching her head in her hands, rolling around in agony.
Isayat watched her agonizing struggle quietly, without a hint of pity on her face.
“This is a ‘Mental Imprint’,”
she explained calmly,
“it will constantly remind you of your identity. As long as you have any thoughts you shouldn’t have, or attempt to resist me, it will make you experience pain a hundred times worse than before.”
Mental torture was far more unbearable than physical pain.
Ling Xiya felt her will being dismantled bit by bit; her pride and self-esteem were as fragile as paper in the face of cruel reality.
She wanted to resist, to roar in anger, but her body wouldn’t obey, with nothing but endless pain spreading through her.
After an unknown amount of time, the mental shock finally receded slowly.
Ling Xiya went limp on the ground as if exhausted, gasping for breath, her entire body drenched in cold sweat.
She could clearly feel that deep in her mind, there really was an additional cold mark, monitoring her thoughts at every moment.
“Now, do you understand?”
Isayat’s voice rang out again, carrying a trace of imperceptible satisfaction.
Ling Xiya struggled to raise her head, her gaze vacant, yet a shred of unyielding spirit still remained.
She looked at Isayat, her lips twitching, but she couldn’t make a sound.
She knew that what Isayat said was true.
She was completely trapped, both physically and mentally.
Isayat seemed to have lost the patience to continue “persuading” her.
She waved her hand, releasing the physical restraint on Ling Xiya, but the threat brought by the Mental Imprint followed her like a shadow.
“The floor is dirty, go wipe it clean.”
She tossed down a rag, her tone as flat as if she were talking about the weather.
Ling Xiya looked at the rag that had fallen in front of her, then at the obsidian floor that was as smooth as a mirror, and an indescribable sense of humiliation welled up in her heart.
She was the Hero; her hands were meant to hold the Holy Sword and slay monsters, not to perform such lowly chores!
She didn’t move, still maintaining her kneeling posture, stubbornly meeting Isayat’s gaze.
“It seems you still haven’t learned your lesson.”
Isayat’s eyes flashed with a cold light.
The next second, intense pain struck Ling Xiya’s mind again, even more violent than before!
This time, the Mental Imprint seemed to come alive, piercing her nerves with countless fine needles.
She screamed, her body curling into a ball as she rolled on the ground in agony, tears finally bursting from her eyes uncontrollably.
“Stop… stop… I’ll do it… I’ll do it…”
In the face of extreme pain, that pitiful bit of stubbornness was finally crushed.
Ling Xiya used all her strength to squeeze out those few words intermittently.
Almost the instant the words left her mouth, the sharp pain in her mind vanished.