Chapter 11
Chapter 11: Fulfilling One’s Duty
“Fourteen hundred… That’s double the monthly average compared to last month. Is it because of the heels?”
Chexia brushed aside the fine silver strands at Funis’s cheek, observing the girl’s reaction with a playful gaze.
Funis turned her head slightly, using her arm to cover her eyes more firmly, not letting the witch see her true expression.
Playing dumb when you already know the answer.
The girl only dared to complain silently in her heart.
The tight, smooth, yet slightly textured stockings already provided considerable stimulation to her feet. And when wearing stockings inside equally smooth leather shoes, her soles would often slip inside the shoes. When the weather was hot and sweat dampened the stockings, walking would unintentionally cause waves of sensation…
Even with flat shoes and light steps it was like this. The torment of high heels combined with combat training was predictable.
Her delicate toes constantly under pressure, her sensitive soles continuously sliding downward—Funis was trapped in this hell every day, forced to endure due to Chexia’s wicked tastes.
“Shall we increase the heel height? Up to nine centimeters or even eleven centimeters? I bet those calves of yours, stretched taut because of it, would look stunningly beautiful,” Chexia whispered in Funis’s ear.
“Eep♡—!?”
Fear.
Panic.
Funis couldn’t suppress her voice in time and let out a soft, sensual cry.
Just imagining herself in high heels brought a wave of tingling electricity shooting up her spine and into her head. Her vision went white, and her body grew limp.
The arm that had been desperately trying to cover her eyes slid away, revealing those beautiful amethyst eyes, slightly rolled upward, hazy and unfocused.
How embarrassing.
To uninformed outsiders, Funis appeared noble, taciturn, cold, and lethal—silently following beside Chexia, mysterious and elegant.
But in reality, to maintain such an appearance, the girl had made unimaginable efforts behind the scenes.
However, as someone who knew the truth, Chexia didn’t care about Funis’s dignity in private. The contrast between public and private was precisely the special pleasure this malicious witch wanted to create.
The once-reliable middle-aged man was now just a little girl who would go limp and lose consciousness after a few soft whispers. If her adopted daughter Charlotte were to see this shameful state, Sera Fred would truly experience social death.
That absolutely cannot happen!
Funis had decided to bury this secret deep in her heart. When the day came that she could truly die, both Sera Fred and Funis would disappear from this world.
“Such beautiful eyes, why do you always try to hide them?”
Chexia pressed the girl’s powerless arms above her head against the flowers, leaning down to look her in the eyes.
Her black hair flowed like a stream through the gaps in her veil, cascading down both sides like a curtain drawn over the intimate space between the two girls, their captivating fragrance filling the air.
Funis, regaining her senses from the daze, pressed her lips together tightly, glaring at Chexia with resentment. “I hate these eyes, I hate this body, I hate who I am now, that’s why I—”
The girl grew increasingly agitated.
But as Chexia leaned in closer, Funis suddenly fell silent.
“Mmm, W-Witch… your h-horns are touching♡~”
Funis squirmed in resistance, but found that the witch had already pressed her black-stockinged, rounded knee against her lower abdomen, making it impossible to move.
Too close.
So close she could feel her breath.
Hot, aggressive, full of desire, urgently trying to take something.
“Girl, be quiet,” Chexia said with a commanding tone that brooked no refusal. “Don’t forget, this is your duty.”
She shifted her face slightly, pressing her cheek against Funis’s, their horns gently rubbing against each other through the semi-transparent veil.
“Mmph♡~”
A dream demon’s horns were rich with nerve endings.
For dream demons, their horns were essentially no different from that kind of organ.
Both Chexia and Funis’s breathing became more rapid and frequent, their pink lips parting slightly beneath the curtain of black hair, exhaling sweet misty breaths.
Through the haze, Funis gazed at the enchanting girl pressing down on her. The witch’s normally proud and cold face now bore a hint of crimson, sweating slightly as she moaned softly.
To Funis, the witch was her enemy, her mentor, her sister, her guardian.
But to the witch, Funis was perhaps merely a tool to pour out her desires.
This was her duty.
It had nothing to do with her own will or feelings.
Perhaps Sitasi couldn’t even imagine that shortly after she had turned and left, her admired Miss Funis was pinned beneath her respected Lady Chexia, the delicate silver bells hanging from the transparent horns chiming loudly with each repeated tremor.
Among the rose bushes, Chexia gently licked the back of Funis’s ear.
“I hope this bit of affection hasn’t made you stupid. Do you remember what I was talking about before?” she asked softly.
With her chest heaving slightly, Funis tried to steady her breathing. The bells on her horns quieted somewhat. “You mentioned a… new idea… about my training progress…”
Chexia released her hands, straightening up while maintaining her straddling position, looking down at Funis with an almost scrutinizing gaze. “In the training I’ve given you over the past year, do you think the use of guns and swords themselves is more important, or is adapting to and becoming familiar with your new body more important?”
“I believe it’s the latter, Witch,” Funis answered obediently.
Chexia’s question wasn’t meaningless.
Even without supernatural abilities, Sera Fred had already been an expert in swordsmanship, combat, and quick-draw revolver shooting. The Temperance Institute Director’s training had been strict and professional. Chexia had specially customized a short rapier and revolver for her based on her previous combat experience and habits as a male.
In terms of shooting and stabbing techniques, Chexia wasn’t more proficient than Sera Fred. All she could teach was how to make Funis’s fighting posture and movements more ladylike and refined.
But this body, classified as a young dream demon, was fresh and unfamiliar to Funis.
The daily repetition of combat technique training was less about improving the techniques themselves and more about adapting to the new body.
Although Chexia had never explicitly mentioned it before, Funis gradually discovered her deeper intentions during the process of meeting training quotas day after day.
She had to admit, Chexia was an excellent mentor.
Funis had initially thought she couldn’t learn anything or get any help from this malicious witch.
“Since you’ve figured that out, you should also understand that adding height to your heels is actually part of the training,” Chexia smiled warmly, though to Funis it sent a chill down her spine. “After letting you adjust for about two more weeks, I’ll order several pairs of nine-centimeter shoes from Neurenz. Please prepare yourself, girl.”
“Eh?” Funis covered her face with a cry of despair.
“And as for the ‘new idea’ I mentioned earlier—” The smile quickly faded as Chexia changed the subject. “I think it’s time to prepare for your advancement ritual on the witch’s path.”