After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Wolf and the Whip-Wielder

◎ From now on, your name shall be “Puppy” ◎

Every slave purchased by Princess Otillia Hughes was settled in a building located in a remote corner of the estate, a long distance from the castle where she resided. Because the exterior of this tower-like structure was a dull reddish-brown, the people of the estate privately referred to it as the “Red Tower.”

Only the ground floor of the Red Tower was inhabited. It had no windows; the only entrance was the heavy main door at the base. Once that door was tightly shut, the interior—devoid of any light source—became pitch black.

The slaves’ eyesight grew worse under these conditions, and their perception of time and space became increasingly blurred. To them, three or four days inside the Red Tower felt as long as months.

Froda was one of the few slaves in the Red Tower who possessed a name. She was beautiful and cheerful; almost every slave knew her. Consequently, after she was taken away last night, the atmosphere in the Red Tower reached an unprecedented level of deathly silence.

Without a word being said, they all knew: Froda would never return.

Slaves in the Princess’s manor were pure consumables. The unlucky ones died the night they were taken and never returned; the lucky ones might be favored by the Princess and kept by her side, but they, too, would never come back here. Under the surveillance of magic circles and guards, they could neither escape nor end their own lives. They could only huddle together and wait for the end.

But Froda became the first slave to return after being sent away. By the light of the lamp carried by the knight who returned her, the crowd discovered that, aside from some scuffed fingertips and a dazed expression, she wasn’t even injured.

This anomaly was like a drop of water hitting boiling oil. The moment the knight left, the formerly lifeless slaves swarmed Froda, asking question after question with a mix of fear and hope.

In contrast to her, the nameless slave who was sent back with Froda had a presence that was far too weak. She lay quietly in the corner, her blue-green eyes unblinking. Droplets of blood slid down her face like tears, rolling into her blood-soaked neck and vanishing.

The healer had performed basic treatment on her wounds, but after the bumpy journey back, she realized she had lost all sensation below her waist. Despite being in the middle of winter, she felt as if she were burning up… gradually, she felt the onset of suffocation.

Am I going to die…

No… even if I am to die, I cannot die at this time, in this place…!

She struggled to open her mouth, attempting to breathe. It took her five or six minutes to achieve this incredibly simple action.

I absolutely… cannot… I haven’t yet…

Her consciousness grew increasingly blurred. A split second before she blacked out completely, the door of the Red Tower creaked open.

A ray of light spilled in.

The gust of dust and the indescribable odor caused Jiao Qingyin, who had just stepped through the door, to furrow her brows.

It was too dark here, and too cold. It was completely unfit for human habitation, let alone for the heavily injured protagonist. She needed a warm, comfortable environment to recover, and this place clearly wasn’t it.

The butler, holding an elemental lamp, cautiously observed Jiao Qingyin’s expression. Seeing her remain silent, the butler finally spoke up amidst the terrifying quiet: “Your Highness, it is too dark here. Should I light a few more lamps for you?”

Jiao Qingyin was about to agree when she noticed several slaves directly ahead covering their faces, seemingly unable to open their eyes due to the sudden stimulation of the light.

“…No need,” Jiao Qingyin paused, getting straight to the point. “The slave sent back today—where is she?”

Hearing her words, the shivering slaves instantly parted like a split wave, shrinking back to both sides of the room. The only person who didn’t move was highlighted by their retreat.

The butler’s lamp shone over. Froda was huddled in place, looking bewildered and completely out of the loop.

Seeing her, the butler was about to say something when she saw the Princess walk right past the girl. This scene left the butler in a daze. She had worked for the Princess’s manor since childhood, but this was the first time she had seen Her Highness treat a specific slave with such distinction.

She had registered the information of every slave. If she remembered correctly, the blonde, brown-eyed slave was named Froda, the eldest daughter of a commoner family within the Princess’s fief. If Her Highness favored her…

Before she could finish her thought, Jiao Qingyin brushed past that slave and walked into the pitch-black corner. The butler snapped back to reality and followed, the elemental lamp in her hand swaying, illuminating the small space.

The nameless slave, covered in blood, lay there. She was clearly in a near-death state; though her eyes were open, they were unfocused, making it impossible to tell where she was looking.

[Warning: Protagonist’s health points at 5%…]

Even without the system’s reminder, Jiao Qingyin knew the protagonist’s situation was dire. She waved Lottis over and issued a command: “Don’t let her die.”

“Yes.” Lottis nervously wiped away sweat, knelt before the protagonist, took off her bag, and began pulling things out.

Despite her burning anxiety, Jiao Qingyin felt a moment of surprise at the potion bottles and scrolls Lottis produced. …Right, this is a world with magic. Magic is surely more effective than bandages. No wonder Lottis introduced herself as a healer, not a doctor.

Lottis uncorked a bottle and, with practiced movements, slowly poured the green liquid over the protagonist. She then rapidly chanted words Jiao Qingyin didn’t understand. With her incantation, a faintly glowing magic circle enveloped the girl.

The treatment lasted about three minutes. During those three minutes, Jiao Qingyin listened to the health points rising in the system warnings, and her racing heart slowly settled. It was a good thing she chose to come in person and brought Lottis along. If the healer had walked here without a mount, the protagonist would likely have…

Seeing the protagonist regain a sliver of consciousness, Jiao Qingyin relaxed slightly. She turned her head, intending to order the butler to take the girl back to the castle, but from the corner of her eye, she saw the girl’s fingers twitch.

Jiao Qingyin intended to stay in character and pretend not to notice, but in the next second, the protagonist suddenly lunged up and grabbed her hand.

Before she could react, a sharp pain shot through the webbing of her thumb, as if a blade were cutting into her flesh, trying to gouge the digit off.

Jiao Qingyin was stunned. It took several seconds for her to snap back as the butler began kicking the protagonist.

“Stop!” Jiao Qingyin barked.

The butler’s kick had just knocked off 1% of the protagonist’s health. If she hadn’t stopped it, the girl they just saved would need emergency resuscitation all over again.

The butler was habitually obedient. As soon as Jiao Qingyin spoke, she stopped. Jiao Qingyin noticed subtly that the butler didn’t have an instinctive urge to protect her master; her actions were more like simply fulfilling a duty.

The protagonist seemed to have focused all her strength into her jaw. She bit down hard on Jiao Qingyin’s finger like a beast locking onto its prey. After several failed attempts to pull away, Jiao Qingyin felt a spark of anger. She didn’t consider herself a saint; she couldn’t maintain a magnanimous temperament after being attacked.

Even though the current protagonist lacked the strength to actually bite her finger off, Jiao Qingyin still wanted to teach her a small lesson. She waved back the knights who tried to approach and reached out with her right hand to pinch the protagonist’s cheeks.

“Let go,” Jiao Qingyin said, staring at her, enunciating every word.

The protagonist acted as if she hadn’t heard. Her glass-like eyes reflected the lamplight, seemingly filled with mockery.

Jiao Qingyin didn’t waste any more words. She gripped the girl’s jaw, forced her fingers between the girl’s teeth, and pried them apart so she couldn’t close her mouth again. Perhaps due to the fever, the protagonist’s mouth was burning hot. Out of a petty sense of revenge, Jiao Qingyin gave the girl’s soft tongue a sharp flick before withdrawing her fingers.

“!” The protagonist, who hadn’t made a sound even while being tortured earlier, suddenly trembled.

Under the girl’s terrifying glare, Jiao Qingyin let out a light laugh. As she withdrew her hand, she spoke slowly:

“Since you like biting people so much, from now on, your name shall be Puppy.”