Slowly, Elenora leaned in, her face just inches from his.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, she summoned a gentle pulse of Mana into her right hand.
She pressed her right palm—now glowing faintly with residual Mana—against Reon's back.
With practiced control, she began to channel her power in reverse, drawing the Mana she had previously injected back into herself.
Slowly, steadily, the chaotic energy within Reon's body began to recede.
Within moments, the storm inside him calmed. His veins ceased their violent spasms, his breathing steadied, and the strain in his muscles faded away.
But the damage had been done—Reon had lost consciousness.
Guilt flickered in Elenora's eyes as she gently lifted him and laid him on the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his pale face.
"I'm... truly sorry," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with remorse. "I never should've pushed this far."
Sitting beside him for a moment, she let the silence weigh on her, then reached into her spatial ring and drew out a crystalline vial glowing with a soft, crimson light.
She uncorked it and carefully tilted it against his lips, feeding him the Superior-Tier Grade-5 Healing Potion drop by precious drop.
"This Healing Potion should mend your damaged veins and arteries... I hope you recover soon," she murmured, setting the empty vial aside as she rose to her feet.
From her spatial ring, she withdrew ten shimmering Intermediate-Grade Spirit Stones, their blue light casting a soft glow on the pillow.
She placed them neatly by his side—then paused.
With a sigh, she drew out a second item: a card forged from rare Mana Essence, its surface shimmering with intertwined threads of gold and emerald.
She laid it beside the stones.
"My Personal Favor Card," she said aloud, though he could no longer hear her. "If you ever visit the Rising Flame Continent and find yourself in need... show this to anyone."
"If they belong to High Society, they'll recognize it instantly—and grant you one favor, whatever it may be... unless it's something too abrupt or unreasonable."
Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer. "Take it as compensation... for the harm I've done you."
She turned toward the door but hesitated.
Casting one last glance back at the unconscious figure lying on the bed, she spoke softly:
"I truly hope a bright future awaits you."
Then, without another word, Elenora vanished from beside the door—without even opening it.
...
Somewhere, deep within an Immortal Chamber, Yi Ran knelt in silence beneath a vast and resplendent hall.
Her head was bowed low before a towering Immortal Throne, upon which sat a woman cloaked in majesty and veiled in divine light.
Though her full face remained hidden, the weight of her gaze was absolute.
The majestic woman gazed down at her with the cold indifference one might reserve for an insect beneath their heel.
"Chu Ming," the woman's voice echoed, regal and cold, each word laced with the might of a Heavenly Empress. "You have greatly disappointed me."
Her tone, calm yet cutting, struck harder than any blade.
"How dare a Celestial Immortal General like you suffer such a humiliating defeat... to a mere mortal." Her voice curled with disdain.
A mere breath of her divine pressure rippled through the chamber—enough to crush lesser worlds into dust.
"Ugh—!"
Yi Ran trembled, her knees shaking violently beneath her.
Blood trickled from the corners of her lips as she struggled to breathe beneath the immense pressure.
"I... I a-am truly s-sorry... M-My Empress..." she choked out, barely able to form words.
Thud!
She slammed her forehead against the Immortal Jade Floor.
Blood pooled instantly as she spoke in a broken voice, "P-Please... grant me mercy... just this once..."
The Empress's voice rang out once more, unfeeling.
"Forgiveness? You disgrace yourself further. You dared to bring shame upon this Empress."
"Go—repent in the Immortal Prison."
A gust of divine wind swirled through the chamber as heavily armored guards descended from above.
Without a word, they shackled Yi Ran in golden cuffs that immediately sealed her cultivation.
Moments later, she was thrown into the cold abyss of the Immortal Prison.
The prison was vast, empty—save for one figure.
A lone man stood with his back to her, unmoving, cloaked in shadow.
She narrowed her eyes. "Who... are you?"
The figure chuckled softly. "Me?"
He began to turn, voice laced with a strange, ominous calm.
"I'm the one who's going to punish you."
As his face came into her view, color drained from Yi Ran's face.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Y-You... W-What are you doing here?!"
"Hahaha! The Empress sent me to discipline you. So much so that your body will remember it long after your mind forgets," the man said with a cold laugh.
Yi Ran backed away, stumbling. "Y-You bastard, what do you want from me?"
He stepped forward slowly, closing the distance until only a single step separated them.
"S-Stay away from me!" she screamed, her voice sharp with defiance.
Slap!
Without a word, the man struck her cheek with the back of his hand—not hard, yet with enough force to send her falling to the ground.
Her spiritual energy had long been sealed; she had nothing left to shield herself.
A crimson flush bloomed across her cheek. She bit her lip, refusing to cry out.
"You dare raise your voice at me?" he snarled, grabbing her collar and forcing her down.
Her hands, shackled behind her back, left her defenseless.
Yi Ran glared at him, defiant even in the dirt.
"How dare you—a mere commoner—strike my beautiful face!" she hissed through gritted teeth, eyes blazing with fury.
"You'll pay for this... I swear it."
The man's voice dropped to a low whisper, brushing against her ear.
"Even now... with that fire in your eyes, you're stunning. Punishing you like this almost feels like a reward."
She stiffened. "The Empress only said to punish me. Not to—"
"Punishment comes in many forms," he interrupted, his tone languid. "She gave me full freedom. And I intend to enjoy it."
"W-What...?!" Yi Ran's eyes flew wide in shock.
His fingers traced her body—slow, deliberate—not with cruelty, but with maddening precision—each touch walking the razor's edge between menace and mockery.
"You bastard—don't you dare touch me!"
"Ugh!"
He pressed her down again, his breath hot against her ear as he murmured, "Shut up. You look far more beautiful when you're humbled."
His fingers moved again, tracing the curve of her back before suddenly grabbing her butt.
"Ah—" Her breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping her throat.
"T-This bastard... he's toying with my body!" she thought, her mind reeling in a mix of anger and unfamiliar sensations.
A strange heat bloomed through her body, betraying her with every pulse. She struggled to resist, to fight the haze clouding her mind, but her thoughts scattered with every lingering touch.
But why... does his touch feel so strange...?