"Spread your legs."
"Tsk."
Lancel could do nothing but obey.
Before a witch, he was powerless. That was a truth he had learned the hard way, etched deep into his mind again and again since the moment he was captured.
Unfortunately for him, the witch who held him captive was not merely curious. She was a sadist who enjoyed pushing her subjects to their limits under the pretense of research.
To her, it was nothing more than work. A series of experiments meant to produce results.
But for Lancel, it was hell.
"Now, come for me."
"Fuck y—Ah!"
"Interesting."
Her voice was absent of emotion, as though she were commenting on the weather rather than the reaction in front of her.
Meanwhile, Lancel clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay still. It had been a year since this began.
By now, his body responded almost automatically to her instructions.
The witch leaned slightly closer while adjusting her gloves.
"Hm."
She jotted something down in her notebook without even looking away for long.
"Muscle response is consistent with last month's results. Recovery period also appears shorter."
For her, this was routine. Another step in a long chain of experiments centered around the male reproductive system and how magic affected it.
Over the past year, she had observed everything from hormonal changes to physical responses under controlled conditions.
To her, it was fascinating.
To Lancel, it was humiliating.
"Your body is adapting faster than expected. The magical interference should have caused greater instability."
Her eyes narrowed behind that otherwise aloof expression.
"Yet you remain… functional."
She closed the notebook with a soft tap.
"I'll fucking kill you…" Lancel hissed, sweat dripping from his brow.
"You say that every time. But after a year, you still haven't."
"If I ever get these restraints off—"
"You won't."
"Then just kill me!"
"I can't."
"...."
"You're a valuable specimen. I've never seen a male like you capable of maintaining viscosity despite repeated ejaculation."
She was deeply, utterly insane.
Angelica Eisenreich. A respected witch in the city, admired by many and feared by a few.
For the past year, she had kept him imprisoned in the basement of her mansion as though he were nothing more than a living research subject.
And to her, that was exactly what he was.
Even now, Lancel couldn't forget the memory of how this all began.
Back then, Lancel had still been an adventurer who made a living traveling from city to city in search of contracts, relics, and the occasional opportunity to grow stronger.
That journey eventually led him to the Witch City of Riviere.
He had come seeking a potion rumored to heal his broken arm.
Unfortunately, his search had led him straight to Angelica.
At first, she had appeared exactly as the rumors described. An elegant, intelligent, polite, and beautiful witch who mentored a respectable number of apprentice witches.
She had listened to his request with interest, asked several questions about his physiology, and even offered to examine him further to determine whether the potion would work.
Looking back, that was the moment everything went wrong.
Because Angelica Eisenreich possessed a particular fascination.
The male species.
In a city like Riviere, that fascination was not entirely surprising.
After all, the Witch City was exactly what its name suggested. A place inhabited entirely by women.
Generations of witches had built their lives there, creating a society where men were never seen.
And to a researcher like Angelica, Lancel had been a rare opportunity.
A rare specimen.
An opportunity she had no intention of letting escape.
"I'll come back later tonight. I've filled the fridge for the month. Try to ration it properly this time."
The same words. The same routine. Angelica said it every time she finished a session.
Not that he ever followed the advice.
Rationing the food had never been something he cared about. Whenever the fridge was stocked, he simply ate whenever he felt like it until it was empty.
Yet Angelica still filled it again every month regardless, as if the outcome had never surprised her.
Only after she had fully left did Lancel let out a breath. His body sagged from the wall as the tension drained from his shoulders.
A moment later, he pushed himself upright and walked toward the small sink along the wall.
The chains binding him clinked with each step.
Angelica had imbued them with enchantments that allowed the chains to extend just far enough for him to move around the room.
But never the door.
No matter how far he tried to stretch the chains, they always stopped just short of the exit.
But Lancel knew this would not be his life forever.
Slowly, he raised his hand and stared at his fingertips. A sense of warmth began to gather.
Mana.
Thin strands of energy flowed toward his fingertips as if responding to his will.
The sensation was still weak and unrefined, but it was real. Something inside his body had begun to awaken.
"…If I hold out for a month."
Unbeknownst to Angelica, something had started to change inside him.
Perhaps it was an unintended consequence of her relentless experiments, or perhaps his body had simply adapted after a year of exposure to magic.
Whatever the reason, the result was that his body was beginning to learn mana. And Angelica had never noticed.
If he could endure just a little longer, then those chains would no longer be able to hold him.
And when that day came, Angelica Eisenreich would no longer be the one in control.
The sensation was still clumsy. The mana moved unevenly, sometimes dispersing before he could fully grasp it. But with every attempt, it became a little easier.
It was then.
Clink——
The basement's door opened.
Lancel's eyes widened.
The glow gathering at his fingertips flickered, and he quickly dispersed the mana.
His heart began to pound.
If Angelica discovered what he was doing, she would tighten his restraints.
By the time footsteps began descending the stairs, Lancel had already lowered his hand. The mana had completely vanished, leaving no trace behind.
"Oh, there really is someone here."
The voice was unfamiliar.
A head slowly peeked into view from the stairwell. Lancel caught sight of the silver hair. It was not the pitch black hair he had grown used to seeing.
It was not Angelica.
Lancel's eyes narrowed immediately.
Whoever this person was, they were not the witch who owned this mansion. And that alone made the situation far more dangerous.
"Hey. Want to escape?"
"…?"
The offer came so casually that it almost sounded like a joke.
But there was no reason to pretend otherwise.
"Get me out of here…"
Even Angelica already knew he hated her with every fiber of his being. If this stranger happened to be one of her acquaintances testing him, it would not matter. His answer would remain the same.
Escape.
That was the only thing he wanted.
"I was going to do that anyway."
"Eh?"
Before Lancel could question what that meant, a sudden flash of light ignited in the basement, and in the next moment, the chains shattered.
The metal restraints that had bound him for an entire year cracked apart as if they were nothing more than brittle glass. Pieces of enchanted iron fell onto the stone floor one after another.
Just like that.
"...."
He was free.
"I… I don't know what you want. But thanks. I'll definitely—"
"Do you want revenge on Angelica?"
"...."
Lancel was caught off guard by how direct it was.
But the answer came easily.
"Yes."
The stranger nodded, as if that response had been expected.
"Good. Then let's help each other out. I was looking for ways to screw her over as well."
Lancel narrowed his eyes.
"Who are you, exactly?"
"Faust Lieber. A colleague of Angelica's. And someone she has wronged."
Faust's silver hair became more pronounced as she stepped further into the room.
"I also know who you are, Lancel."
"...."
"A missing poster was circulated for you in Emadestrin. With your last known destination being Riviere."
Emadestrin, the empire he came from. The place where he used to work as an adventurer under the local guild.
Lancel had assumed no one would notice his disappearance. Adventurers vanished all the time.
Yet apparently someone had reported him missing.
"...I see."
"Then let's help each other out," Faust said. "I can take you to my—"
"Hold up."
Lancel raised a hand, cutting her off.
"I appreciate you breaking me free. But I seriously don't want anything to do with this city anymore. Revenge can wait. I just want to go back home."
In truth, he didn't trust Faust. Not even a little. First of all, she was clearly a witch.
Of all the things Lancel had learned over the past year, witches were not people he could afford to trust.
Not after Angelica.
Just the sight of Faust's tall, pointed brim hat was enough to make him feel petrified.
Even though the chains were gone, Lancel had not moved from where he stood at all.
He could leave.
He knew that.
But approaching another witch, even someone who had just freed him, felt like stepping back into the same nightmare he had barely escaped.
"I understand you're afraid and confused," Faust said. "But you're perhaps the only person in this world who could possibly know Angelica closely."
Lancel wasn't sure that was the right way to describe it.
What he had experienced over the past year could hardly be called knowing her.
His time with Angelica could only be described as traumatizing. Day after day, he had been reduced to nothing more than an object for her self-gratification.
He had not been treated like a person here.
To Angelica, he had been little more than a dog kept in her basement, whose only good use was his tongue and his penis.
"I'll give it some thought," Lancel said after a moment. "For now… can I just go?"
Faust looked at him, then sighed.
"I knew this would happen."
"Then—"
But before Lancel could even finish, the strength left his body, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
———
[All conditions met.]
[Initializing…]