The wooden basin clattered violently across the stone floor, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the cramped cell.

Kevan flinched so hard he nearly fell over. He yanked his hands back, his face draining of all color until he looked like a corpse.

Daulton didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the cell, placing his body squarely between Ella and his brother. He bared his teeth, a vicious, desperate snarl ripping from his throat.

Ella looked at the fiercely protective wolf boy. Internally, she wanted to praise him for his bravery. Externally, she curled her lip in an ugly sneer.

She lifted her foot and used the tip of her expensive leather boot to kick a dirty, blood-soaked rag toward Daulton.

"Look at you," she mocked, her voice laced with poison. "A pathetic stray dog barking at its master."

[Ding. Animosity Points from Daulton +50. Fear Points from Kevan +30. ]

Ella let out a tiny, hidden sigh of relief. The points were rolling in. But a quick glance at the transparent blue System interface floating in her vision told her it wasn't nearly enough for the serum.

She had to push harder.

She lunged forward, grabbing Kevan by the collar of his ragged shirt. She hauled him halfway to his feet.

Kevan didn't fight back. He just squeezed his eyes shut, his body going completely limp as he waited for her to slap him or pull out a dagger.

The pain didn't come.

Instead, Ella leaned in close, her voice a harsh, demanding hiss.

She frantically sifted through the original Ella's chaotic memories, searching for anything related to local trauma medicine. Two names surfaced in the dark corners of the tyrant's mind.

"Go to the greenhouse behind the estate. Bring me five-year-old Blood-Stop weed and the roots of the White Fresh plant. Now."

Kevan's eyes snapped open. His pale gray irises dilated in pure shock.

Those weren't torture devices. Those were incredibly rare, highly potent medicinal herbs used to treat severe trauma.

Daulton's growl died in his throat. He stared at Ella, his mouth slightly open, a pathetic, confused whining sound escaping his lips.

Ella saw their brains short-circuiting. If they realized she was trying to save Cordaro out of kindness, the Animosity Points would stop. She needed a cover story.

She shoved Kevan backward, wiping her hands on her dress as if he had infected her with a disease.

"Don't look at me like that, you idiot," Ella spat. "Cordaro is a useful tool. I haven't finished breaking him yet. If he dies now, it's a waste of my investment."

The sheer, callous objectification in her words hit the men like a physical blow. To her, Cordaro wasn't a living being; he was a toy she wasn't done playing with.

A fresh wave of revulsion washed over Daulton's face.

[Ding. Animosity Points +100. ]

Ella mentally patted herself on the back for her Oscar-worthy performance.

"Move!" she screamed at Kevan.

Kevan scrambled to his feet. He didn't care that the deep cuts on his palms had torn open again, dripping fresh blood onto the floor. He bolted out of the cell, sprinting toward the greenhouse.

The cell fell into a suffocating, tense silence. It was just Ella and Daulton now.

Ella began to pace the small space, pretending to be impatient and annoyed. In reality, her eyes never left Cordaro's chest. She was watching his respiratory rate. It was getting shallower. He didn't have much time.

Daulton's eyes tracked her every movement. He was hyper-vigilant, trying to figure out what twisted game she was playing.

He noticed something strange. Ella was pacing, complaining about the smell, but she hadn't once reached for the rusted whips or branding irons hanging on the wall. That was completely out of character.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Kevan came sprinting back. He was gasping for air, his chest heaving. Clutched tightly to his chest was a massive bundle of fresh, dirt-covered herbs.

He dropped to his knees and held the herbs up over his head, offering them to Ella. His wrists shook violently from the pain and exhaustion.

Ella snatched the bundle from his hands. She pulled so hard it jerked Kevan forward, making him suck in a sharp breath of pain.

She didn't even look at them. She walked over to a small, flat stone table in the corner of the cell. She grabbed a heavy, smooth rock and began to smash the herbs.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

She crushed the stems and leaves with brutal force. A thick, pungent, intensely bitter smell filled the damp air of the dungeon.

Daulton and Kevan exchanged a look of utter bewilderment.

The cruelest woman in the valley, a matriarch who wouldn't even dirty her hands to eat, was currently grinding herbs with a rock to make a poultice for a consort she had nearly beaten to death.

Just as the herbs turned into a thick, green paste, a bright golden button illuminated on the System panel in Ella's vision.

[Sufficient points reached. High-Tier Healing Serum available for purchase. ]

Ella's hand paused over the crushed herbs. She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second and mentally slammed her finger onto the golden Purchase button.

[Transaction complete. Deducting all Animosity Points, ] Lex Cantor stated flatly.

A faint, almost invisible shimmer of light flashed inside the wide, bell-shaped sleeve of her vintage dress. A cold, heavy object materialized against her forearm.

It was a sterile, modern syringe, filled with a glowing, neon-blue liquid.

Ella opened her eyes. She scooped up a handful of the bitter, dirt-filled herb paste. She turned around, deliberately positioning her body to completely block Daulton and Kevan's line of sight.

She knelt beside Cordaro. She pretended to smear the messy green paste over the horrific wound on his chest.

Under the cover of her own body and the thick paste, she slid the syringe down her sleeve into her palm. She found the thick jugular vein pulsing weakly at the side of Cordaro's neck.

Without a moment's hesitation, she drove the needle in.

The cold steel pierced his skin. Cordaro, deep in his coma, let out a muffled groan of agony. His massive body jerked upward, fighting the intrusion.

Hearing the groan, Daulton lost his mind. He lunged forward, his claws extending from his fingertips.

Kevan caught him around the waist, tackling him to the floor and holding him back with all his remaining strength.

Ella's thumb pushed the plunger down flawlessly. The blue serum vanished into Cordaro's bloodstream. She pulled the needle out and instantly slapped a thick glob of muddy herb paste directly over the puncture mark, erasing all physical evidence of the injection.

The entire process took less than three seconds. It was the muscle memory of a trauma vet.

She slipped the empty syringe back up her sleeve and stood up.

The effects of the System's serum were instantaneous and terrifyingly powerful.

Cordaro's skin, which had been burning up with fever, began to cool visibly. The rapid, wet rattling in his lungs smoothed out into deep, steady breaths.

Most shocking of all, the edges of the deep, festering whip marks on his chest stopped oozing yellow pus. The raw meat began to knit together, forming thick, healthy scabs right before their eyes.

Daulton stopped fighting Kevan. He went entirely limp, staring at his brother's chest. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, convinced he was hallucinating.

Kevan's jaw dropped. He knew exactly what Blood-Stop weed did. It stopped bleeding. It did not regrow flesh and cure sepsis in ten seconds. This was impossible.

Ella looked down at their stunned faces.

She knew she couldn't take credit for this. If she suddenly possessed god-like healing powers, they would know she wasn't the real Ella Ortiz. She would be exposed as a transmigrator, and in this superstitious world, she'd be burned at the stake.

She needed a scapegoat.

Ella let out a loud, dramatic scoff. She crossed her arms, twisting her face into a mask of bitter jealousy.

"Don't look so surprised," she spat. "I mixed a vial of my dear stepsister's Holy Water into the herbs. Kendra's little parlor tricks are the only reason this worthless piece of meat isn't rotting in the dirt."

Kendra Klein. The Oracle. The beloved Saintess of the valley.

At the mention of Kendra's name, Kevan's eyes darkened. A complex, unreadable emotion flashed across his face.

But Daulton swallowed the lie completely. In this world, only the Saintess possessed the power of miraculous healing. It made perfect sense.

The tiny, fragile seed of gratitude that had started to sprout in Daulton's heart instantly withered and died. He didn't owe Ella anything. The Saintess had saved his brother.

Ella watched Daulton's expression harden. She felt a sharp twinge of annoyance at giving that two-faced Saintess the credit, but it kept her safe.

She kicked the heavy trailing ends of the iron chains pooled on the floor. The loud clatter made both men jump.

"Since your brother isn't going to die and ruin my carpet," Ella snapped at Daulton, "get out of here. Go clean the stables. Every single stall. If I see a speck of dirt, I'll whip you myself."

Daulton clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together. He looked at Cordaro's steadily rising chest. For the first time since she woke up, Daulton didn't argue. He gave a stiff, jerky nod and bolted from the cell.

Ella turned to Kevan. Her eyes dropped to his hands. The cuts were still bleeding sluggishly.

She needed more points.

"You," she commanded coldly. "Follow me to my study. You got your filthy blood on my dress. I'm going to punish you properly."

Kevan's body gave a violent tremor. He knew what happened in her study. But he lowered his head, hiding his eyes.

"Yes, Master."

Ella turned and walked out of the dungeon. As she hit the stairs, the System chimed again, letting her know new items were available in the shop.

Ella pushed open the heavy oak doors to her study. The room was suffocatingly opulent, filled with dark velvet drapes and towering bookshelves.

She stepped inside, and Kevan followed, closing the doors behind him with a soft click. The thick wood instantly muted the sounds of the estate.

Without a word, Kevan walked to the center of the expensive Persian rug. He dropped to his knees. He raised his arms, presenting his bloodied, ruined hands palms-up, offering them for whatever torture she had planned.

Looking at his pathetic, submissive posture, Ella cursed the original owner to hell and back. What kind of psychopath conditioned a man to do this?

She kept her face blank and walked around her massive mahogany desk. She opened a drawer, pretending to search for a weapon.

In her mind, she accessed the System shop. She spent the last of her newly acquired points on two low-tier Healing Sprays.

She turned around. In her right hand, she held a small, braided leather riding crop she had found in the drawer. Hidden in the palm of her left hand was a tiny, metallic aerosol canister.

She walked slowly toward Kevan. She used the wooden handle of the crop to tilt his chin up, forcing him to look into her cold eyes.

"You ruined my silk gown," she said softly, her tone dripping with malice. "Water won't wash away your sin. Only a potion of pure agony will do."

Before Kevan could brace himself, Ella brought her left hand down. She aimed the concealed nozzle directly at his open wounds and pressed the button.

A fine, cold mist sprayed over his sliced flesh.

The instant the liquid hit his exposed nerves, a blinding, searing pain shot up Kevan's arms. He convulsed, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. His muscles locked up, and he bit down on his lower lip so hard it bled.

He thought she had sprayed him with acid.

But three seconds later, the burning vanished. It was replaced by an intense, soothing coolness.

Kevan stared at his hands. The deep, jagged cuts were literally knitting themselves back together. The bleeding stopped entirely, leaving only thin, pink scars.

His gray eyes widened in absolute shock. He looked up at Ella, his mind completely unable to process what had just happened. This wasn't agony. This was a miracle.

Ella didn't give him time to think. She kicked him hard in the thigh, knocking him off balance.

"Pathetic," she sneered. "You can't even scream properly. Get out of my sight. And tell that stupid wolf pup Daulton to get in here. It's his turn."

Kevan scrambled up. He clutched his healed hands to his chest, giving her one last, deeply conflicted look before hurrying out the door.

Five minutes later, the doors slammed open. Daulton was shoved inside by a guard.

He smelled strongly of horse manure and sweat. He stood in the center of the room, his fists clenched at his sides, glaring at Ella with pure defiance. He looked like a feral animal backed into a corner.

Ella looked at the gray wolf ears standing straight up on his head, twitching with aggression.

"Turn around," she commanded, slapping the riding crop against her palm. "Hands behind your head. Kneel."

Daulton's face flushed with humiliation. But he thought of Cordaro, still recovering in the dungeon. He couldn't risk angering her now.

He gritted his teeth, turned his back to her, and dropped into a crouch, lacing his fingers behind his head. He left his back completely exposed.

Ella stepped up behind him. She aimed the second canister of Healing Spray at the crisscrossing network of old, inflamed whip scars on his back.

She sprayed.

Daulton violently shuddered as the initial sting hit him, his breath hissing through his teeth.

While the medicine did its work, Ella's eyes drifted up to his fluffy, gray wolf ears. She reached out, intending to violently yank his left ear as a physical reprimand. But the moment her fingers clamped around the base, Daulton violently shuddered, a pathetic whine trapped in his throat. The raw, terrified reaction triggered a sudden, overwhelming flashback to a highly stressed rescue dog she had once treated. Her veterinary instincts completely short-circuited her brain. Instead of pulling, her grip accidentally softened. Her thumb subconsciously rubbed in small, firm circles over a cluster of sensitive nerve endings.

The sensation hit Daulton's brain like a lightning bolt.

It was a feeling of such intense, overwhelming physical pleasure that his body completely betrayed him. His eyes rolled back slightly, and a deep, vibrating purr rumbled out of his chest.

The second the sound hit the air, Daulton froze.

His face turned a violent, burning shade of crimson. The sheer humiliation of making a submissive, happy noise for his abuser shattered his pride. He spun around, scrambling backward like she had burned him, his eyes wide with horror and rage.

Ella bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. She instantly contorted her face into a mask of pure disgust.

She pointed the crop right at his nose.

"You disgusting freak," she shrieked, her voice echoing in the study. "Making a filthy noise like that when I'm trying to punish you? You make me sick!"

Daulton's shame instantly morphed into a burning, toxic humiliation. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

[Ding. Animosity Points +150. ]

"Get out!" Ella yelled, throwing a heavy book at the door.

Daulton practically tore the doors off the hinges as he fled.

Ella leaned back against her desk, letting out a long, exhausted breath. She rubbed her aching facial muscles. Acting like a psychopath was exhausting.

Just as she closed her eyes, a heavy knock sounded at the door.

"Master," the head butler called out nervously. "An envoy from the Saintess Kendra Klein is here. She invites you and your consorts to the central plaza for the Blessing Ceremony."