On the way back to the inn, Isaac's heart churned with two conflicting emotions: a sense of responsibility for Sophia, whom he had bound and shackled, and fear from her recent threat. These feelings clashed within him, but knowing Sophia had been honest about using him for amusement gave him the courage to ask the gagged vampire something that had just occurred to him: "Do you hate your own kind?"
"Mmph?" Sophia was surprised by such a serious question.
"I mean, some humans hate humanity, thinking cats or dogs are cuter."
"Mmph?"
"You must be lonely, right?"
"Mmph?"
"Forget it, just me rambling." Isaac and Sophia, draped in her blood wings, reached the inn.
They didn't notice a single-lens telescope trained on them from a distance.
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Back at the inn, Isaac hung the blood wings on the coat rack and switched Sophia's shackles to "Good Slave" mode, removing the chain.
Sophia flopped onto the bed. Isaac moved to remove her gag, but she shook her head, grunting, "Mmph!" to refuse.
"Still mad?"
"Mmph!" Sophia shook her head again, wanting to tell Isaac that if she was playing the captive, she'd do it properly.
"Then why—"
Before Isaac could finish, several silver crossbow bolts shot through the window, piercing Sophia's unprotected body, passing clean through.
"Mmph!" Black smoke rose from the burning wounds as blood poured out. Writhing in pain, Sophia rolled off the bed. More bolts followed. This time, Isaac didn't freeze. He rushed to the coat rack, grabbed the blood wings, and draped them over Sophia—he'd learned from their time together that the wings were useless unless touching their mistress.
The blood wings swiftly enveloped Sophia, shielding her. Silver bolts kept coming, embedding into the divine cloak capable of blocking siege crossbows from afar. They didn't pierce her this time but lodged in her flesh, continuously burning it.
"Mmph!" The bolts had evaded Sophia's echolocation, moving at subsonic speeds—too fast for sound to warn her in time. Only one crossbow in the world could fire subsonic bolts repeatedly, and this was it.
Sophia rolled on the floor in agony. Isaac scooped her up. "Mmph!" she signaled for him to remove the gag. In his panic, a bolt struck Isaac's left hand, shattering the bone. Remembering Sophia's vulnerability and his oath to protect her, he gritted his teeth, used the master key to unlock the gag, and, in one go, removed her shackles.
"Little Zack, run!"
Sophia could handle the barrage herself, but Isaac couldn't.
They fled the room, the bolts pursuing—subsonic, slightly slower than bullets, unstoppable by wooden or even stone walls.
The attacker, seemingly unwilling to harm innocents, didn't spray the inn to kill them outright.
Panting outside, Isaac noticed blood pooling under Sophia's cloak.
"Help me… pull them out." The blood wings parted, revealing bolts that, weakened by the cloak, hadn't pierced through but were stuck in her flesh, burning like ordinary bolts in a human. Isaac pulled one out.
"Aaagh!" Sophia screamed. "Are you… okay?"
"Don't stop, keep pulling!"
Isaac removed several more.
"Aaagh!"
He pulled out bolts lodged in sensitive areas. This time, Isaac didn't think lewdly, but Sophia's cries were unmistakably sensual: "Ahh~ Ahh! Ahh! Little Zack… doing… great! Ah!"
Isaac's heart ached seeing the gaping wounds from the initial bolts, unblocked by the wings.
"Blood… I need blood."
"Take mine." Isaac offered his neck, unaware of the danger. A vampire in her state might lose control and drain him dry.
Sophia, knowing her fragile mental state, didn't bite.
"Watch out!" She twisted, unleashing a high-pitched sonic scream: "Woo-wah-wah!"
The air crackled as her sound waves struck incoming bolts. Her eagle-like vampire vision, capable of seeing kilometers away, tracked the projectiles. Suddenly, the bolts' sounds ceased—something in the darkness two kilometers away had been hit.
"Got you, little bitch!" Sophia's red eyes gleamed viciously. Isaac noticed three more bolts had struck her during the "counterattack." He lifted the wings and pulled them out, blood gushing.
"Little Zack, I'll get shot to death like this." Unable to use magic, her abilities, or her magic gun Evelyn, her only ranged weapon was a sonic cannon too weak to kill even a goblin. For Isaac's safety and her own, she needed a new strategy—bolts didn't discriminate.
Sophia led Isaac to an open area without tall buildings, preventing long-range sniping.
From the darkness emerged a woman in a wide-brimmed high hat, her deep burgundy hair framing a black leather breastplate over a white swordsman's shirt. She wielded a massive silver repeating crossbow with a large revolving magazine.
Thud-thud-thud! The crossbow fired relentlessly. Sophia kicked Isaac aside, dodging most bolts with her steps, though one or two hit her wing-protected body.
The crossbow's magazine finally emptied. Such weapons required a supply point, horse, or base to reload.
Sophia noticed the woman's disheveled red hair and bloodied mouth—her sonic cannon had worked.
The woman slung the crossbow behind her, charged, and drew one of four flintlock pistols, firing at Sophia. Without the element of surprise or need for a ranged duel, Sophia's sharp vision tracked and dodged the shots.
The woman emptied the pistol, discarded it, and drew two more from her holsters, firing again. Sophia dodged effortlessly. Realizing bullets were useless, the woman didn't draw her last pistol. Instead, she pulled out a witcher's whip, enchanted with holy magic lethal to dark creatures. The whip lashed at Sophia, who dodged swiftly. The woman redirected the whip with force, tracking Sophia like a homing missile. As Sophia evaded, the woman fired her last pistol at her predicted path. Sophia smirked, unfurling her blood wings to block. The bullet hit the cloak, delivering a heavy blow but no penetration.
The impact slowed Sophia's dodge, and the whip struck—boom! Orange holy energy exploded at the impact, the Belmont family's ancestral whip hundreds of times stronger than Garth's amateur weapon. Sophia was blasted back, her blood wings torn from her body.
The woman drew a cruciform shortsword, holding the whip in her other hand, and approached the sprawled Sophia. "You're a Dominatrix."
"Ha… ah… ha…" Sophia gasped on the ground. "This… isn't… Silania…"
"But you're a Dominatrix."
"I'm… Sufi… Safi… Sanis…" Sophia, immobile, lied.
"Don't lie. I'm not that fool Garth you killed. You lustful vampire, bound by a human—perfect for me." Anna assumed Sophia was a typical hedonistic vampire.
"You're… that… Belmont… whose kills Garth stole…" Sophia, having read Garth's mind, knew he hadn't slain three high vampires—Anna Belmont had, and he'd taken credit, believing his own lies after repeating them.
"So what? You killed Garth, I kill you. Witchers and vampires are even." Anna advanced.
"One… Dominatrix… for a… glory-stealing… little witcher? Ha… ha… Butcher girl… you're—" Sophia's taunt was cut off as Anna's heeled boot stomped her belly, where a silver bolt wound lingered, the heel infused with silver.
"Ah! Aaaagh!" Sophia screamed.
Anna leaned close. "You evil creatures are ten thousand times viler than the pettiest human."
Seizing the moment, Sophia mustered her last strength for a point-blank sonic cannon, hitting Anna's face.
Boom! Anna flew back four or five meters, her witcher's hat falling off.
Sophia struggled to her feet. "Bitch… ha… got you… ha…"
Bloodied on the ground, Anna grabbed her crossbow, revealing one last bolt in the magazine. She fired at Sophia's head. Sophia dodged precisely, but the whip followed. Knowing the Belmont whip's power, she evaded frantically. The bolt struck her throat above the collar, burning her vocal organs to ash.
"You… little… bitch… you got me…" Sophia rasped through her lungs.
Anna raised her shortsword and a holy water-soaked stake. "Dominatrix, in the name of my ancestor Leon Belmont, today we—"
"Aaaagh!" Isaac, Moonshine in his right hand, Bloodheart in his broken left, roared from the shadows, eyes bloodshot like a enraged beast, charging Anna.
Clang! Her shortsword parried Moonshine, the whip entangling Bloodheart. Moonshine stored techniques but lacked adaptability or counterattacks. Anna deflected it, stabbing Isaac's right lung, shredding it. Isaac, enduring the pain, glared with blood-red eyes. Anna kicked his abdomen with her heeled boot, felling him.
Blood streaked Anna's face, making her look demonic. She retrieved her hat, donned it, and pointed her sword at Isaac. "I heard from investigators of a vampire army's annihilation that the binding ropes and the female vampire vanished—captured by a 'hero,' huh? You, who can't take one hit? You dare wield that rapier? Do you know who used it?"
A raspy voice came from behind. "Exactly. A cowardly, lustful, fearful Isaac, binding Valhaz's Princess Dominatrix?"
Too late, Anna turned. A monstrously strong kick struck her face, knocking her unconscious like a marionette with cut strings.
"Ah… ah… it hurts… am I dying…" Isaac coughed blood, his right lung destroyed. "Master… key… ugh… right pocket, Domi—"
Sophia didn't let him finish. Bloodied and wounded, she sank her fangs into him, pouring healing blood elixir into his mouth, gradually mending his lung.
Isaac didn't know that Sophia's reluctance to make elixir for Georgina stemmed from the cost: each milliliter required several times her own blood to refine.
When Isaac's wounds fully healed, Sophia, having lost vast amounts of blood, collapsed unconscious.
Fully restored, Isaac stood, sighing at the two bloodied women on the ground.
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One day later…
Anna opened her eyes.
Her wounds were healed by Sophia's elixir, and she felt invigorated. She recalled being knocked out by the vampire. But—she couldn't move!
What the hell?
"Mmph!" She made muffled sounds.
Furious, Anna realized she was bound and gagged. A filthy rag wrapped her mouth, its stench seeping in, and inside… a pair of women's underwear?
Struggling, she felt waves of pleasure from below. She was hogtied, ropes forming a tight net over her body, especially her chest and crotch. Her breasts were constricted from all sides, a rope digging into her cleavage. Her legs were bound and folded, a cruel rope at her crotch holding her own witcher's whip, now inserted between her thighs, tormenting her sensitive core with every move.
Her outer clothes were gone, leaving only her red leather corset with spherical cups—smaller than Sophia's but still ample—and brown leather pants. The corset barely covered her chest, now exposed as she hung horizontally, saved from slipping only by the cleavage rope.
"Mmph!" Anna thrashed, but the rope collar around her throat choked her with each move.
"Best not struggle, Lady Anna Belmont—or should I say Butcher?" Sophia's voice came. Draped in her blood wings, unbound by them, Sophia appeared, her tattered leather outfit cut away by Isaac's dagger for bandaging. Her stunning nude body, wrapped in gauze and bandages, stood proud, her massive breasts needing no support. She approached Anna. Anna's weapons suppressed vampire regeneration, yet Sophia, bandaged and unhealed, hadn't fed to recover. Oh no, my blood—did she—
"Don't worry, Lady Belmont, you little bitch. Without that pathetic hero's permission, this duchess won't drink your blood." Sophia's pale blue eyes locked onto Anna's emerald ones.
"Mmph!" Anna struggled, but each move stimulated her, liquid pooling below. How could I…
"So shameful?" Sophia said. "To make you enjoy this, I used my precious blood to craft endurance elixir. You can stay bound for a week without issue."
"Mmph!" Anna tried to curse Sophia's vileness, but more liquid soaked her pants.
"Oh, and I used more of my blood to mix an aphrodisiac for you."
"Mmph? Mmph!" Anna realized why her body reacted, her breasts straining against the ropes.
"You beat me so well, nearly killed me. You're the second-best witch hunter I've met."
"Mmph? Mmph!"
"Almost killed me." Sophia winked at the suspended Anna. "My skull would've been a lovely trophy in your manor, right?"
"Mmph!"
"Should I sell you to Eta's Hairedin family? They'd pamper you."
"Mmph? Mmph!" Eta women were veiled and confined, and the Hairedin vampire royals? Anna had killed two of their high vampires. If they knew she was a Belmont…
Though she'd slain countless vampires, Anna, only 21, panicked at the thought of being sold. Her aphrodisiac-laced body leaked more fluid, her breasts nearly lactating.
"Hahaha, I'm kidding! Little Anna, you're so gullible!" Sophia laughed at Anna's humiliated struggle.
"Mmph!"
"Little bitch, you hurt me bad. I need rest, so you'll hang there and 'rest' too. Oh, that underwear in your mouth? Brand new, meant for me, but I'm too bound to wear it, so it's yours."
Still tightly bound and bandaged, Sophia commanded her blood wings to blindfold Anna with a rag.
"Mmph!"
"Oh, that rag in your mouth," Sophia teased. "Want to know its origin?"
"Mmph?"
"Curious how I cleaned the blood and filth from my pierced body while unconscious?"
"Mmph?"
"That rag was what that fool used to clean this duchess's sacred body."
"Mmph? Mmph!" Anna screamed.
"Little bitch—no, Butcher girl—enjoy it. That's treasure from my body. Don't you crave Dominatrix flesh?"
"Mmph!"
"Mmph!"
Sophia's voice faded. Anna, alone, suspended, gagged with Sophia's filth, under the aphrodisiac's effects, wept in despair.