The stone floor of the underground dungeon was cold enough to chill the very marrow of her bones. Arisa leaned against the wall, hugging her knees. The small piece of bread Lilia had given her last night had long since vanished into the depths of her stomach. Her hand, clutching the half-burned scrap of paper, trembled faintly. *(The one thing I can't burn is my memory.)* She replayed the spell formula in her mind. The flow of magical energy meant to erode the brand from within. The theory was sound. In that one instant, the magic had indeed reversed its flow. But the price had been far too great. *Clack.* The familiar sound of footsteps descended the dungeon stairs. Arisa's fingertips twitched. From the neighboring cell, she felt the presence of Lilia holding her breath. *(Cassandra.)* Beyond the iron bars, silver-gray hair swayed. Sharp gray eyes looked down, appraising Arisa first, then Lilia. The sound of a black dress dragging across the stone floor tore through the dungeon's silence. "[cold]Both of you together. How convenient." Cassandra's lips twisted into a faint smirk. "[cold]Tonight is the Banquet of Demise. You know of it. The two of you will provide entertainment upon the stage in the great hall." The Banquet of Demise—the grand annual gala held at Moonset Pavilion, exclusive to the nobility. Public training. Auctions. And, as a punitive measure, public execution by training. Arisa had heard the rumors of what had become of the courtesans who had been put on that stage at the last banquet. A faint breath escaped from Lilia's cell. "[cold]And above all, Arisa." Cassandra drew closer to the iron bars. Fingers sheathed in black gloves traced the cold metal. "[cold]This is a continuation of your punishment. Merely doubling your client count is insufficient. You are also the perfect example to the other courtesans. After all, you defied me." Arisa said nothing. She simply looked up into those gray eyes. Her lips pressed into a thin line, she choked back her voice—as if ashamed of the way she had broken down in tears last night. "[cold]Defiant, are we? Fine. But I shall look forward to seeing how those eyes of yours change upon the stage tonight." Cassandra turned and directed her gaze toward Lilia's cell. "[cold]Lilia. You as well." "...Yes, Lady Cassandra." Lilia's voice was so faint it seemed about to vanish. The sound of Cassandra's footsteps receded. The dungeon was once again wrapped in silence. Still leaning against the wall, Arisa closed her eyes. *(Tonight will be the worst night yet.)* She was certain of it. --- Night. The great hall of Moonset Pavilion was stifling with the heat of the assembled nobles. Over fifty aristocrats filled the semicircular viewing gallery. Sumptuous attire. Glittering jewels. Tilting their wine glasses, they eagerly awaited the spectacle upon the stage. The scent of fine liquor mingled with the cloying sweetness of perfume, the very air steeped in intoxication. At the center of the stage, two thick wooden pillars stretched up to the ceiling. Restraint chains glinted dully. Cassandra ascended the stage. With her silver-gray hair swept up high and clad in a jet-black dress, she was the very priestess of this mad revelry. When she raised her hand, the murmur of the hall fell silent like a receding tide. "[cold]Gentlemen. Welcome to this year's Banquet of Demise. Tonight is special—I present to you the two most troublesome, and therefore most valuable, specimens in my Moonset Pavilion." She snapped her fingers. Assistants dragged Arisa and Lilia onto the stage. Both were clad in nothing but a single thin white tunic. Arisa stared straight ahead. Lilia hung her head, her long silver hair hiding her face. "[cold]First, let them become acquainted with each other's bodies." Cassandra walked to the center of the stage and looked down upon the two of them. "[cold]You will toy with each other here and now. If you refuse—I shall carve a punishment brand into you on the spot." In her hand, the branding needle gleamed. At the tip of the long, slender needle, magically charged ink dripped. Arisa knew that the mere touch of that needle against skin would send unbearable agony racing through the body. Lilia raised a trembling hand. Her pale violet eyes were wet with tears. "[whispers]Arisa... I'm sorry." "...It's fine." Arisa's voice was hoarse. Lilia's fingers gently touched the pleasure brand carved into Arisa's lower abdomen. —In that instant. "—Ah!" Uncontrollable pleasure surged from the depths of her belly through her entire body. An electric numbness shot up her spine, and the strength drained from her knees. Arisa clenched her teeth, desperately trying to remain standing. But each time Lilia's fingers traced the brand, her body reacted in defiance of her will. *(Stop it...)* Deep in her lower abdomen, a sharp ache throbbed. Beneath the tunic, she felt the sensation of arousal fluid slowly seeping along the inside of her thighs. It was her own body, yet it was not hers to control. That fact gouged at Arisa's heart more than anything else. "[sad]Arisa... I, I...!" Lilia's hand trembled as she pressed the brand even harder. Cassandra's cold gaze monitored them both. If they held back, the needle would fly. Arisa, too, reached out a shaking hand. She touched Lilia's lower abdomen. The same brand. The same heat. "—Aaah!" This time, Lilia's body jerked violently. The two on the stage continued to toy with each other's brands, exposed all the while to the stares of the nobles. When Lilia's fingers traced Arisa's brand, a moan escaped Arisa's lips. When Arisa touched Lilia's brand, Lilia cried out as she reached climax. *(Lilia's eyes—)* Clenching her teeth, Arisa looked at Lilia's face. In her eyes, apology and despair mingled. The helpless guilt of knowing she was driving Arisa to climax. And yet, the terror of this place that made it impossible to stop her hands. *(It's not your fault.)* She wanted to say it. But she couldn't produce the voice. If she let it out, she wouldn't even be able to keep her teeth clenched anymore. Jeers flew from the viewing gallery. "[laughing]Come on, do it more!" "[sarcastic]That's it, make each other come!" Cassandra nodded with satisfaction. "[cold]Good. Now, next." --- The latter half of the banquet. When Cassandra snapped her fingers, several nobles ascended the stage. All wore masks to conceal their identities. Yet their movements were practiced, and they approached the two with a casual familiarity. The gang rape began. Arisa was pinned down onto the floor of the stage. The sound of her tunic being torn. Her skin was exposed. At Cassandra's signal, the forced activation of the brand began. The brand on her lower abdomen pulsed, and pleasure unrelated to her will ravaged her entire body. "—Sto...!!" Arisa's voice was drowned out by the lewd cheers of the nobles. The first man shoved his penis into Arisa's vagina. Without lubrication, forcibly. Arisa's body, compelled by the brand, felt it against her will, her vaginal walls clenching around the intruder. The man let out a vulgar laugh and slammed his hips against her. Another man forced his penis into Arisa's mouth. A sour stench. Fighting the urge to vomit, the depths of her body continued to ache because of the brand. Her consciousness threatened to tear apart. *(Somewhere—)* Desperately, Arisa tried to find something. Anything to keep her heart from shattering completely. It was then— At the edge of the crowd, she caught sight of a man standing there. Soft, chestnut-brown short hair. Clear green eyes. A deep furrow between his brows. Serge Almond, the third son of a lower-ranking noble family. He was here as a noble invited to this event. Serge's face was deathly pale. His lips trembled, as if trying to say something. But no voice came out. His hands were clenched tightly together, as if in prayer. *(Serge.)* There was something glistening in his eyes. Tears. A young man who could do nothing but stare at the scene on the stage. He had no power to stop it. Nor the strength to raise his voice. If he did, he himself would be socially annihilated. That was how this world worked. *(It's not your fault.)* Arisa thought. Strangely, no pure anger welled up within her. It wasn't anger at Serge. It was anger at something larger—at the very structure of this world. And she felt that anger solidifying quietly, yet unmistakably, deep in the pit of her stomach. —Climax. With the activation of the brand, Arisa's consciousness whited out. The sensation of hot semen being released deep inside her vagina. The men's semen splattered onto her stomach, onto her face. Beside her, Lilia was crying, yet trapped in a hell where her body still reacted, being ravaged by multiple men. How much time passed, Arisa could not tell. --- The banquet ended. The two were thrown back into the underground dungeon. Into the same cell. Collapsed onto the straw, Lilia bore countless wounds all over her body. Her lips were cut and oozing blood, her silver hair matted with sweat, semen, and blood. She could do nothing but lie there. Even moving must have been agony. Arisa, too, could barely walk. She leaned a hand against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. The inside of her mouth was torn. The depths of her belly still burned with an eerie heat. "[whispers]...Lilia." Arisa gently took hold of Lilia's trembling hand. Lilia's fingers were cold as ice. "[whispers]...There's something I want you to hear." Slowly, Lilia lifted her eyelids. Her pale violet eyes, dulled by the traces of tears, gazed at Arisa. "[serious]I'm going to escape." Lilia's fingers twitched. "[serious]The notes were burned. But the framework of the counter-brand spell—I still have it in my memory. The barrier sealing the brothel—it runs on the magic of the ley lines. If I find the thinnest point and concentrate the counter-brand magic into a single spot, there's a chance I can create a crack." Arisa's voice was hoarse, but clear. "[whispers]...And if it fails?" "[serious]I die. Or the brand goes out of control and something even worse happens." Silence. Lilia's silver hair swayed faintly on the straw. "[serious]Even so, if we stay here, we'll just be broken down. Not just our bodies. Our hearts too—what was tonight like? I... up on that stage, when you touched me, my body just... on its own..." Her words caught in her throat. "[whispers]...I'm the same." Lilia's voice trembled. "[sad]Every time I touch you, Arisa, my fingers are hurting you. Activating the brand. I hate it... I hate it, but my body is making you come. It's so painful... so painful..." Tears spilled from the corners of Lilia's eyes. "[serious]So let's escape." Arisa squeezed Lilia's hand tighter. "[serious]Together. We're getting out of here." Crying, Lilia gave a small nod. —This was their first vow. Arisa poured strength into the hand she held. But the problems were mountainous. The theory of the counter-brand was in her memory. Yet to actually test it, she needed physical strength and time. If she lost consciousness from experimenting with the brand, Cassandra would notice. Her client count remained doubled. Her stamina was whittled down to its very limit. She had almost no time or energy left to devote to experimenting with the spell—that was the reality before her eyes. Even so. Still clutching Lilia's hand, Arisa continued to stare into the darkness of the cold dungeon. To begin walking a path that brushed against death, the two of them together. Only their breathing echoed through the silent underground dungeon.