In the world of Type-Moon, it all begins with becoming Morgan's husband!

But it was all meaningless now—because Ian wouldn't listen at all.

To make matters worse, Ophelia found herself seemingly no match for her opponent.

The top student's hands were grasped together, and when they were clasped together, they looked like fish tails struggling out of water.

But in reality, such a struggle is meaningless.

Because Ophelia's strength is not on the same level as Ian's at all.

Furthermore, this passive position further weakened her resistance.

Those hands that once played with bamboo flutes were now bound to the headboard by her own black lace bra.

But this is just the beginning.

Because Ian quickly moved his hand to her chest and started unbuttoning her thick coat.

As the buttons were undone one by one, Ophelia's original pride crumbled.

Instead, meaningless warnings came from the throat.

"Ian, do you know what you're doing?!"

"If I were to tell anyone about this, you could forget about staying in Chaldea!"

“Sure.” Ian didn’t stop what he was doing.

"Then go ahead and tell everyone."

"A top student from the Clock Tower took a strange man back to his room, and then did this and that."

What do you think people will care about first?

"you!"

"Sh--."

Ian took off Ophelia's coat, folded it neatly, and set it aside before continuing to deconstruct her lining.

As the bow around her neck was gently untied.

The girl's not-so-ample chest was thus exposed to the other person's eyes.

But Ian didn't seem to have any intention of playing with it at all.

He simply put his hands behind Ophelia's back without her noticing.

There was a snap.

The button is undone.

Ian took off the almost identical black lace bra, then twisted it into a rope and wrapped it around Ophelia's mouth.

He met her heterochromatic eyes, which held no meaning for him, and gently kissed her forehead.

"Have no idea."

"I really don't want to hear you talk, so this is all I can do."

Ophelia stared wide-eyed, but couldn't move at all.

She was now certain that he was a madman.

A terrifying and formidable madman.

Ian's fingers traced across Ophelia's chest before moving to her waist.

He removed the leather belt from his waist, rolled it up, and neatly placed it aside.

To the alarmed look of the top student magician, the knee-length skirt was lifted up and rolled up just below the chest.

"You seem to have a real fondness for black."

Ian looked at everything before him with such calm composure, as if what lay before him was merely a work of art created by Ophelia with her own body.

"However, I prefer white."

After saying that, the man reached out and slowly pulled down the black pantyhose.

thigh.

knee.

calf.

Soles of feet.

After taking them off, Ian didn't put them aside, but used them like bras.

This time, however, the target became Ophelia's feet, which were being held down.

Wrap it around, twist it, and tie it to the foot of the bed.

In this way, Ian's feet were free to move.

But it's not over yet.

He looked at Ophelia's legs, which were forced together, and suddenly looked up to meet her gaze.

Ophelia's eyes held an even greater fear than before.

"Waaah..." came out of her mouth.

Ian reached out and gently removed the hair that had gotten caught between her lips because of the black lace bra she had just put on.

"Do not be afraid."

"I won't hurt you."

"I just had a question on my mind."

Ian looked around and then back at Ophelia.

"Since you're so busy you don't even have time to tidy your room..."

"Are there other places that I might need to help clean up?"

Ophelia was taken aback at first, but quickly realized what Ian meant.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"

The sobs of the top student were completely meaningless.

This madman had already reached for her thigh.

The last piece of cloth covering her shame was removed and dragged all the way down to where Ophelia's legs were bound by pantyhose.

What appeared before him was a garden that was not well maintained.

of course.

It doesn't look too bad, except that the short blades of grass make everything look a little messy.

"really."

Ian smiled knowingly.

"Miss Ophelia is very skilled in magic, but she doesn't seem to be very good at everyday life."

"But that's okay."

“I happen to have this skill, which you call ‘strange’.”

After Ian said those words...

Ophelia suddenly realized that she had actually stepped on his landmines in many of her actions and words.

Her understanding had reached the final level.

Ian is not just a madman, but a madman who has been provoked.

Ophelia regretted it.

She shouldn't have bossed Ian around based on her own thoughts.

But there's no going back in this world.

All that remains is the bitter fruit one must taste.

Ian got up, grabbed some things from the room, and then went back to Ophelia's bed.

Now he had a showerhead filled with warm water and a small bottle of shower gel in his hand.

Obviously.

This wasn't something he had just found.

Instead, these were the props I had memorized from the beginning when I was tidying up Ophelia's room.

If the answer he receives is not what he needs, he can immediately resort to Deng.

This is more than just an enraged madman.

He also possesses an incredibly meticulous mind.

"Don't be afraid—"

Ian sat back down in his previous spot.

"As long as you don't move around, there won't be any problems."

Before Ophelia could utter a sound, Ian had already taken action again.

The area he was operating in was no longer within Ophelia's sight.

This top-performing magician had no idea what was happening.

But the slight warmth coming from below was enough to tell that the man was sprinkling water.

After the warmth subsided, something was smeared above the garden entrance, bringing a smooth, lubricating sensation.

But before Ophelia could adjust...

The sensation of her hair being pulled up instantly made her feel like a wheat field being harvested by Ian.

One.

Two.