The sound of a door closing echoed. The last customer had finally left. Arisa lay collapsed on the floor. Sweat, tears, and sticky bodily fluids clung to the cold stone. Her entire body was swollen, and pain shot through her no matter where she was touched. (How many was it...) She tried to think, but her head was hazy and she couldn't recall the number. Ten. Or perhaps twelve. Her memory cut off partway through, probably because she had lost consciousness. With trembling arms, she pushed herself up. The brand on her lower abdomen still throbbed dully. From morning until sunset, she had been forced to take customers under Cassandra's orders. The brand of pleasure carved into her body amplified the ecstasy regardless of her will, and Arisa's body was forced to climax every time it accepted a customer's desires. (Stand up.) Arisa placed a hand against the wall. Her knees were shaking uncontrollably. She took one step forward. Pain from torn skin shot through the soles of her feet. A second step. Still leaning against the wall, dragging her body along, she left the private room. The corridor was sinking into the dim light of evening. From outside the window, the distant clamor of the pleasure quarter could be heard. The sound of stringed instruments drifting from some tavern. The drunken shouts of patrons. All of it felt as distant as events in another world. (I have to get back to the underground cell.) Hand against the wall, one step, then another. Her knees gave out halfway down the corridor. With a sudden *thud*. As if it were some kind of joke, the strength simply drained from her legs. Arisa crumpled to the spot. The stone that struck her knees was terribly cold. She couldn't stand up. "Arisa-san!" A high-pitched voice rang through the corridor. A small shadow came running over. A bright, light-blue short bob swayed in the twilight. Large amber eyes were brimming with tears. The freckles near her mouth trembled faintly. Noira Twight. An apprentice at Moonset Pavilion. She was always doing menial work in the back of the kitchen, and had never exchanged words directly with Arisa before. "[scared]U-um, can you stand...?! I'll lend you my shoulder!" Noira frantically tried to take Arisa's arm. Such a thin arm. With her small 146-centimeter frame, there was no way she could support someone nearly twice Arisa's build. "...Don't." Arisa spoke curtly. "[serious]I said don't. I'm not borrowing your hand. Let go." Noira flinched for just a moment. But she didn't let go. "[serious]I won't let go." Her voice was trembling. She was probably scared. Scared of Arisa's cold eyes. And yet, the girl didn't move from the spot. "[whispers]Because... you can't stand, can you? I don't have much strength, but still..." Noira gripped Arisa's arm tightly with both hands. Such small hands. (A child.) Arisa thought. Fifteen years old. Not so different from her own age a few years ago. And yet, she was doing menial work in a place like this. She would probably be sold as a prostitute someday. That was the logic of this world. "...Fine." Arisa leaned her weight onto Noira's shoulder. Noira staggered but desperately tried to support her. The two of them slowly made their way down the dim corridor. --- When they reached the door of the underground cell, Noira suddenly pulled something from her pocket. "[gentle]Here... it's a little something for you." It was black bread. The surface was slightly cracked, hard as a rock. She must have secretly hidden away leftovers from the kitchen. "...Why?" "[excited]Um... well..." Noira fidgeted and looked down, then lifted her face as if steeling her resolve. In her amber eyes dwelled a light that almost resembled admiration. "[serious]I've been... watching. All this time." "...Watching what?" "[serious]You, Arisa-san." Noira's voice, though trembling, was clear. "[serious]When you were called to the hall, when you were put up on the platform... you were the only one who didn't fawn over Lady Cassandra. No matter how much pain you seemed to be in, your eyes never broke. I thought you were amazing. That you were an incredibly, incredibly strong person." Arisa silently stared at Noira's face. "[serious]So... someday, I want to..." Noira pressed the bread into Arisa's hand. "[serious]I want to become like you, Arisa-san. Someone strong, who no matter what is done to them... never loses in their heart." —That's wrong. Something twisted painfully deep in Arisa's chest. (I'm not strong.) (I just can't give up.) (And besides—) "...Don't become that." Noira's eyes went wide. "[surprised]Huh...?" "[cold]Don't become like me." Arisa's voice was flat, as if she were suppressing all emotion. But beneath it lurked a sharp pain that Noira couldn't possibly notice. "[cold]Before you grow up in a place like this, run. Go somewhere else. If you stay here, you'll see the same hell I have. That's—wrong. It's wrong." (I don't want you to become that.) She didn't put it into words. But it was the first time. The first time she had told someone "run" for the sake of anyone other than herself. She couldn't let Noira fall into this hell. That feeling took on heat in the pit of her stomach, solidifying. (I have to escape.) (I have to escape.) Noira looked bewildered for a moment, but eventually gave a small nod. "[whispers]...Where should I go?" "[serious]I don't know. But find somewhere that isn't here. You still have time for that." Noira opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. But in the end, she said nothing. She simply bowed deeply and ran back down the corridor. Until that small back disappeared into the darkness. Arisa watched it go, without looking away. --- Leaning her back against the stone wall of the underground cell, Arisa closed her eyes. She traced her fingers over the hard black bread Noira had left behind. (I'm going to escape. Absolutely.) It was still a vague resolve. But Noira's innocent admiration had transformed it into something one step more certain. *Clack.* Once again, the sound of footsteps came from outside the cell. This time, they were quieter, more cautious footsteps. "[whispers]...Arisa, I'm coming in." Lilia Valmars stood there, holding ointment and cloth in her arms. Her silver, wavy hair glowed faintly in the darkness. Her pale purple eyes were red and moist, as if she had cried herself out. "[gentle]Let me treat your wounds." Lilia crouched down in front of Arisa and gently began wiping her arm with the cloth. Traces of caked-on bodily fluids. Torn skin. There were several spots discolored blue-black from internal bleeding. "[sad]I'm sorry." Lilia's voice was so faint it seemed it might disappear. "[sad]I couldn't do anything. Today, too, you had to take ten people... I just listened from the next room..." "...Lilia." "[sad]Five years. It's been five years since I came here. It's been so long, I feel like I've forgotten how to walk in the outside world. I'm scared. Of leaving this place. Even if I go outside, I'm already..." Lilia applied ointment to Arisa's arm as tears spilled down her cheeks. The tears fell onto the freshly applied ointment, blurring white. "[sad]But you're different." Lilia raised her face. "[sad]Arisa, you have a world outside. You have the strength to go out there. You're so much stronger than someone like me. So—" Arisa grabbed Lilia's hand. Lilia's fingers stopped dead. "[serious]Are you planning to go alone?" Lilia said nothing. She just hung her head, crying. (So that's it.) Arisa understood. Lilia intended to use herself as a decoy and let only Arisa escape. She had given up on herself. She was convinced that she was fated to break here. "[serious]No." Arisa stared into Lilia's face. Her deep brown eyes captured Lilia's pale purple ones straight on. "[serious]I'm escaping with you. That night, I said so right here. That wasn't a lie. It's still the same now." "[crying]But..." "[serious]No 'but.'" Arisa squeezed Lilia's hand even tighter. "[serious]Without you, the counter-brand wouldn't have been completed. Because you applied the ointment, brought the bread, and more than anything—because you came here and listened to me, I can still keep my sanity. There's no meaning anywhere in escaping alone." Without wiping her tears, Lilia gave a small nod. —This was the moment the first vow took on an unshakable form. --- "[serious]I need you to listen." Arisa lowered her voice. "[serious]The counter-brand formula is almost complete." Lilia's eyes widened. "[serious]The notes were burned. But the framework of the formula remains in my memory. The sensation of reversing the magical flow in the first experiment, and then—even while I was being forced to take customers, I never let go of my consciousness. Every time the brand activated, I traced the flow of its magic. Dozens of times, hundreds of times. I copied every minute flow of magic inside my body, all of it, into my head." It was research that had turned that time of hell on its head. Even while being violated, she hadn't sunk into despair; she had simply, single-mindedly assembled the counter-brand formula. That was the only resistance Arisa could offer. "[surprised]Amazing... Arisa..." "[serious]But there's a problem." Arisa looked at her own hands. "[serious]To activate it, I need to concentrate all the magic in my entire body into a single point. It requires a fair amount of physical strength and focus. In my current state—honestly, the probability of success isn't high." Her physical strength, worn down from continuously taking customers. Her body, eroded by the brand. The counter-brand formula was a life-or-death gamble even under healthy conditions. No one could say whether it could be activated in such an extreme state. "[serious]Even so, I'll do it." There was no hesitation in her voice. "[serious]Tomorrow. I'll activate it during the Banquet of Demise." "[serious]...Understood." Lilia gazed steadily at Arisa with tear-wet eyes and nodded. Lying on the stone floor, Arisa told Lilia the plan. "[serious]The banquet will continue until late at night. The hour of the new moon—probably around the turn of the date. At that moment, the nobles' branding tools will all activate at once. Drawn by that concentration of magic, the barrier magic around the entire brothel will focus inward. There will be a moment when the barrier at the outer perimeter thins, just for an instant." "[gentle]You calculated that?" "[serious]Yeah. It's basic theory of branding magic. Magic drawn from ley lines thins out when dispersed. If so, there must be a place where it becomes concentrated. If more than fifty nobles use their branding tools at the Banquet of Demise, that timing will disrupt the barrier's balance the most." Arisa gripped Lilia's hand tightly. "[serious]In that single instant—at the back of the brothel, the place connected to the kitchen's outer wall. I'll make a crack there. I'll concentrate the counter-brand formula into a single point and open a hole in the barrier." "[whispers]Arisa... can you endure until then?" Lilia's question quietly pierced deep into Arisa's chest. Enduring the violation of the banquet while activating the counter-brand. Being trampled by customers, forced into the brand's pleasure again and again, and still maintaining consciousness, still having to complete the formula. "[serious]...Honestly, I'm not confident." Arisa let out a small breath. "[serious]But I have no choice but to do it. If I miss tomorrow, the next chance is a year from now. Neither my body nor your heart—will last until then." Lilia squeezed Arisa's hand back. Cold fingers and cold fingers intertwined. "[serious]Then, it's a promise." "[serious]Yeah." Another tear spilled from Lilia's eyes. But it wasn't a tear of despair. "[serious]Until tomorrow night, we stay alive. Bo