The cold touch of the stone floor woke Arisa. The room was far too bare to call a cell. The walls were exposed stonework, the morning chill seeping deep into them. In the musty air, the smell of her own sweat mingled with the traces of bodily fluids still clinging to her from last night's training. The faint herbal scent of the ointment Lilia had applied still lingered. (My body feels so heavy.) Arisa slowly sat up. A sharp pain throbbed in her lower abdomen. The Brand of Ecstasy pulsed steadily, as if it were alive. She recalled the sensation from the night before, when Lilia's fingers had touched the brand. A shock like electricity racing through her. The humiliation of her body reacting on its own, utterly beyond her will. And yet, even then, Arisa had been desperately observing. When the brand channeled magical energy, heat spread from deep within her belly. Its direction was from bottom to top. (If I reverse it… channel the magic from top to bottom, I might be able to suppress the brand.) Arisa placed her hand on one of the wall stones. She carefully shifted it with her fingertips, revealing a small gap. From inside, she pulled out a few tattered pieces of parchment. Fragmentary records of the forbidden art, *Counter-Brand*. Relying on memories from her past life, she had painstakingly gathered whatever documents remained in this world. A ritual formula meant to destroy the brand from within. But the texts were incomplete—she didn't understand even half the theory. And the biggest problem of all: there wasn't a single record of a successful attempt. (Even so… I have no choice but to try.) Arisa traced her finger along the margins of the parchment, organizing her thoughts. Reverse the flow of magical energy the brand forces into the body, going against the caster's intent. If she could do that, the brand would be eroded from within by its own magic and should be destroyed— As a theory, it held together. But she lacked the information to execute it. Without a more detailed understanding of the brand's structure, she would fail. And if she failed— (I'll die. Or something far worse.) Arisa put the parchment away and returned the stone to its place. That was when it happened. Heavy footsteps approached from the corridor. *Clunk. Clunk.* Not the sound of Cassandra's shoes. These were duller, thicker. The door burst open. "[cold] Arisa. You've been requested." It was one of Cassandra's assistants. Expressionless, he roughly grabbed Arisa's arm. "—Ngh." Arisa let herself be dragged along. The cold air of the hallway stabbed through her thin clothes. (My first client request, then.) Until now, it had only been training and public humiliation. But today was different. A noble had paid money to request Arisa specifically. They climbed the stairs and were led to a private room on the second floor. The Moonset Pavilion's second floor had twelve private rooms, each with soundproofing brands carved into the walls. No matter what sounds were made, none would leak outside. "[cold] Here. Get in." Arisa was shoved from behind and thrown into the room. A choking wave of perfume hit her. Cloyingly sweet, nauseating. In the center of the room sat a large bed. And beside that bed— "[sarcastic] Oho, so you've come. Is it true? That you're a new, untouched virgin?" An obese old man stood there. He was likely past sixty. His graying hair was greasy, and sweat glistened across his entire face. His thick lips hung slackly open, as if drool might spill out at any moment. Though he wore splendid attire befitting a noble, his appearance was as repulsive as rotting garbage. "[cold] …I'm not a virgin anymore." Arisa's voice was flat. But the corners of her lips trembled ever so slightly. "[laughing] I know that well enough. But a first client is something special. I intend to savor this thoroughly." Oldrick drew closer. A powerful stench of grease, sweat, and perfume mixed together. There was no escape. As if resigned, Arisa stared at Oldrick. That was when— Her eyes caught the ring gleaming on Oldrick's left hand. A large ruby set in a silver mount. And on the gem's surface, an engraved crest. It was a design combining feathers and flames. Three feathers. The flames branched into five, pointing toward the upper right. The outer frame was shaped like a shield. (This crest… I've seen it somewhere before.) Memories from her past life surged through Arisa's mind like a revolving lantern. An illustration from a history book she had read in that former life. The family crest of House Vesen—descendants of forbidden art researchers executed roughly three hundred and fifty years ago. An old noble lineage that had studied the forbidden art *Counter-Brand*. Most of the family had been executed during Lumina's Purge, and all their research records were said to have been burned. But— (They survived… House Vesen still exists.) "[cold] What are you standing there dazed for?" Oldrick's hand seized Arisa's shoulder. —*Thud.* She was pushed down onto the bed. The old springs creaked and groaned. "[sarcastic] Now then, let's have some fun, shall we?" Oldrick's fingers tore away Arisa's clothes. Her cheap blouse ripped, and the cold air bit into her skin. "—Ngh." Arisa bit down on her lip. But her eyes alone—never left Oldrick's left hand. The number of feathers, the direction of the flames, the shape of the outer frame. She desperately etched every detail of the family crest engraved on the ring into her memory, one by one. (This is… information. Information absolutely vital to the Counter-Brand research.) Oldrick's thick fingers touched the brand on Arisa's lower abdomen. —In that instant. "—Aaaahhh!" The brand activated. Heat exploded from deep within her belly, and pleasure tore through her entire body. (No… my body… is moving on its own…) Her hips bucked. Every time Oldrick's fingers traced the brand, her body reacted against her will. Deep inside, her vagina clenched tightly, and arousal trickled down her thighs, soaking the bed. "[laughing] A fine reaction. The brand's integration is progressing nicely." (No… this isn't… this isn't my will…) She was screaming inside her heart, yet her body drowned deeper and deeper in pleasure. Oldrick straightened up and began removing his own clothes. A sagging, flabby belly. Skin covered in blotches. That hideous body loomed over Arisa. "—Stop…!" Oldrick's member pushed inside her. Pain, and the pleasure forcibly generated by the brand, raced through her body simultaneously. "Ah… Aaah…!" A voice escaped her lips. She couldn't tell herself whether it was a scream or a moan. The bed creaked and swayed with every thrust of Oldrick's hips. His left hand pressed into the mattress right beside Arisa's face. (The ring…) In the brief moments between crashing waves of climax, Arisa desperately fixed her gaze on the ring. The angle of each individual feather. The number of branches in the flames. The pattern on the shield-shaped outer frame. (Memorize it… Burn every last detail into your mind.) The brand activated again, and her whole body convulsed. "—I'm… I'm coming…!!" Those words flew from her own mouth. Her mind went blank, and her hips bucked wildly. Her vagina clenched involuntarily, tightening around Oldrick's member. Once, twice, three times— With each climax, she felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Even so, Arisa clenched her teeth and refused to take her eyes off the ring. The fourth passed, and the fifth climax approached. (Just a little more… just a little more, and I'll have it all memorized…) Tears spilled over. Frustration, humiliation, and—a faint glimmer of hope. Even in this hellish time, Arisa was gathering information. Picking up the keys to her freedom, one by one. On the fifth climax, Arisa's consciousness finally faded. *** When she came to, she had been dumped on the floor of her cell. Her entire body ached. She could still feel Oldrick's greasy touch clinging to her skin. The brand radiated heat, throbbing with a dull, persistent pain. (The ring… the family crest…) Arisa crawled toward the wall and retrieved the hidden parchment. With trembling hands, she sketched the freshly memorized crest into the margins. Three feathers. Five flames. A shield-shaped outer frame. The memories from her past life and the crest she had just seen matched perfectly. (There's no mistake… that old noble is a survivor of House Vesen.) House Vesen—descendants of forbidden art researchers executed in Lumina's Purge roughly three hundred and fifty years ago. Fragmentary records remained of their research into Counter-Brand. If Oldrick frequented the Moonset Pavilion as a client, that meant… House Vesen had secretly survived, hiding its existence within the Nachtigal Noble Council. (Information on Counter-Brand… might still remain somewhere in this world.) But making direct contact with Oldrick was far too dangerous. If Arisa, a mere slave, approached a noble about forbidden arts, she would be killed. (What should I do—) Just then, she heard footsteps from the corridor. *Click, clack.* These weren't heavy. Light, restrained footsteps. The door opened softly. "[whispers] …Arisa? Is it all right if I come in?" Long silver hair shimmered faintly in the hallway lamplight. Pale violet eyes looked upon Arisa's wounded body, trembling with grief. "[sad] This is horrible… that old noble, it's just too horrible…" Lilia held a small jar in her hands. Ointment for healing wounds. Arisa slowly sat up. "…I'm fine. This much is nothing." "[crying] You're not fine. This is not fine at all…!" Lilia knelt beside Arisa and scooped some ointment onto her fingers. The cold salve touched Arisa's injured skin, and she drew in a small breath. Silence flowed between them. Lilia's fingers traced the wounds on Arisa's arm. The motion was incredibly gentle, but her fingertips were trembling. Arisa spoke in a low voice. "[whispers] Lilia… I found something incredible today." "[surprised] Huh?" Arisa took out the parchment and showed Lilia the crest she had drawn. "[whispers] Do you recognize this?" Lilia blinked, then shook her head. "[whispers] No… but what is it?" Arisa lowered her voice and explained. The family crest engraved on the ring of today's client, Oldrick. How it belonged to House Vesen, who had researched forbidden arts three hundred and fifty years ago. That House Vesen was a noble lineage that had studied Counter-Brand, and that fragmentary records of it were written on the parchment in Arisa's possession. "[surprised] No way… a forbidden art bloodline, still surviving… and as a client at the Moonset Pavilion, of all places…" Lilia's face went pale. "[whispers] But I can't ask him directly. It's too dangerous." "[sad] Then… what will you do?" Arisa traced her finger along the parchment's margins, voicing her thoughts. "[serious] The theory behind Counter-Brand is to reverse the flow of magical energy the brand forces into the body—to make it flow backward from within, against the caster's intent." Lilia listened in silence. "[serious] In other words… you don't try to destroy the brand from the outside. You take the brand's own magic, make it flow in the opposite direction, and force it to attack itself. That's the core of Counter-Brand." "[whispers] Reverse the flow… the brand's magic…" Lilia placed a hand on her own lower abdomen. She bore the same Brand of Ecstasy. "[whispers] …I think, for me… when the brand activates, the first place I feel heat is always here." Lilia pointed just below her navel. "[whispers] Then the heat spreads upward. As if it's washing something away. My head goes fuzzy, and my body moves on its own. I wonder if that's because the magic is flowing from bottom to top." Arisa's eyes widened. "[surprised] From bottom to top… I feel the same sensation." Lilia's words corroborated everything Arisa had b