A Villain's Journey Begins in the Type-Moon World

Medea's body stiffened abruptly, her blue eyes instantly filling with tears of humiliation. Kneel? Not only to be touched, but in such a humiliating way? She bit her lower lip hard, tasting the blood, barely managing to hold back her scream. Under the other's emotionless gaze, her slender legs finally succumbed to the heavy pressure, slowly and trembling as they bent, until finally, her knees slammed heavily onto the cold, hard ground.

The rough gravel and splinters stung painfully, but this physical pain paled in comparison to the trampling of the soul. Are you in the forest?

"Let's begin." Wang Chong's voice came from above her head, carrying a hint of barely perceptible amusement. He leaned back slightly with a relaxed posture, as if enjoying some kind of taken-for-granted service.

Medea closed her eyes, tears finally streaming down her face uncontrollably. She stretched out her delicate hands, once used only for casting exquisite spells and weaving magnificent robes, now covered in dust and bits of grass. She took a deep breath; the air, thick with a pungent odor, almost made her nauseous. She forced her eyes open, her trembling fingers slowly reaching for the warm water in the bucket.

The moment her fingertips touched the water, she recoiled as if scalded. The water was only lukewarm, yet it caused her a searing pain. She mustered her courage again, dipped her hands into the water, scooped up a handful, and then, as if using all her strength, poured it onto Wang Chong's feet.

The water washed away some of the grime, revealing the rough texture of his foot skin and the bulging veins. Medea's hands trembled even more violently; she forced herself to cup water again, repeating the mechanical action. Each touch of that warm, unfamiliar skin sent a wave of nausea and shivering through her. She tried to touch it only with the bare tip of her fingertips, as if avoiding some deadly poison.

"Who are you trying to fool?" Wang Chong's voice was clearly filled with displeasure. "Washing feet means scrubbing them with your hands, not splashing water and playing around. Did the ladies-in-waiting who served you in the palace do this kind of perfunctory thing before?"

Medea's body trembled again, and her tears of humiliation flowed even more fiercely. She gritted her teeth, curled her fingers, and very slowly, lightly, dabbed at the instep of Wang Chong's foot with her fingertips.

"Push harder." The command was given again.

Medea closed her eyes and increased the pressure of her fingertips. The rough texture of her skin was clearly transmitted to her nerve endings, and the slippery feeling mixed with dirt and sweat made her scalp tingle. She began to scrub mechanically, from the instep to the ankle, her movements stiff and awkward, each rub feeling like a slow, agonizing torture of her self-esteem.

When her hand had to move to the soles of his feet, the rougher texture almost made her gasp. She forced herself to endure it, her fingernails accidentally scratching Wang Chong's soles.

"Hiss—" Wang Chong let out a hissing sound that was hard to decipher, not a cry of pain, but more like a sigh of... enjoyment? This made Medea even more horrified.

"Don't stop, keep going." His voice was lower and had a strange hoarseness.

Medea could only continue, her fingers awkwardly rubbing each part of the large feet, trying to remove every speck of dirt. In the dim light, she was forced to observe up close the soles of the feet that supported this horrible man's steps and trampled others. She could even see the curvature of the toes and the tiny scars on the skin. A deep, objectifying humiliation almost suffocated her. She felt no longer a person, but a lowly instrument being cleaned by its master.

Time flowed slowly in the suffocating silence and the faint sound of water. The air inside the cabin seemed to freeze, with only Medea's suppressed breathing and the occasional, barely suppressed gasp from being touched.

Medea scrubbed mechanically, her movements stiff and resistant. When her hand moved to the inside of her ankle, her fingertips accidentally touched a spot that seemed more sensitive than the rest. Wang Chong's muscles tensed instantly, his toes curled slightly, and he let out a very low, scrutinizing groan.

Medea was so frightened that she immediately withdrew her hand, thinking that she had done something wrong again, and looked up at Wang Chong in horror.

Wang Chong simply looked down at her, his gaze deep and unfathomable, but without any hint of reproach. Instead, it carried a scrutinizing quality that made her uneasy: "Why did you stop? Continue. This place... also needs to be cleaned."

Medea had no choice but to steel herself, her fingertips filled with utter resistance, and return to the area that made her uneasy, rubbing it even more carefully and fearfully. She could clearly feel the faint pulse beneath the other's skin, but this rhythm of life only filled her with the fear of being dominated.

Chapter 519 Washing Feet (Part 2)

When his ankles were almost washed, Wang Chong casually lifted his foot and brought his toes closer: "Dirty things tend to get trapped between the toes."

Medea looked at the sand-filled crevices between her toes, so close to her face, and a wave of nausea rose in her throat. This was even more unbearable than washing her feet and ankles. She hesitated, her fingertips trembling even more violently.

"Do I need to say it again?" Wang Chong's voice turned cold, carrying an undeniable threat.

Medea closed her eyes, took a deep breath, as if she were about to die. She stretched out her trembling fingers and carefully, with great resistance, probed between Wang Chong's toes.

Fortunately, the grit was easily scraped off with a touch of her fingertips, and the strange granular texture made her very uncomfortable.

Fortunately, it was just sand, so it didn't make her feel even more disgusted. Slowly, Medea scratched at it with her fingernails, and whether it was tears of humiliation or sweat, she couldn't tell which dripped silently down her cheeks into the bucket at her feet.

"Hmm..." Perhaps her movements were too clumsy, or perhaps she had scratched something itchy, Wang Chong suddenly let out a low, unintelligible nasal sound, and his toes twitched involuntarily, clamping down on one of Medea's fingers that she was trying to pull back.

"Ah!" Medea screamed in fright, jerking her hand back and staring at him in terror. (The rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish.)

Wang Chong merely glanced at her indifferently, as if it had been an unconscious action: "What's the rush? I'm not going to eat you. Keep going, hurry up, the water's getting cold."

Medea's heart was pounding; the brief sensation of being pinched by a toe had sent chills down her spine.

She could only grit her teeth and reach her hand back into those disgusting gaps between her toes, her movements faster and more frantic, wanting only to end this torture as soon as possible.

Finally, just as Medea felt her mind was on the verge of collapse, Wang Chong seemed to think it was about time.

He wiggled his toes, his voice laced with a lazy satisfaction: "Alright. Dry it off."

Medea felt as if she had been granted a pardon and almost immediately wanted to withdraw her hand. However, she looked around blankly and then realized that she didn't have a foot towel at all.

She raised her head, looking helplessly at Wang Chong with tearful eyes. Her lips moved, but she didn't know how to speak.

Wang Chong seemed to just remember something and casually tossed over a relatively clean piece of coarse linen cloth that might have been used as padding: "Use this."

Medea picked up the piece of cloth with trembling hands. Looking at her feet, which she had just washed clean and were still damp, she felt an indescribable shame, even more so than when they were covered in grit.

After all, this cleanliness was achieved by Medea herself, and it was the result she earned by sacrificing her dignity.

Medea took a deep breath, placed the cloth over Wang Chong's instep, and began to wipe it.

She scrubbed meticulously, her movements still stiff, but with a numbness as if she were completing a task. The insteps, ankles, soles… she wiped every spot she had just washed clean again with a cloth.

When she got to her toes, Medea hesitated for a moment, but eventually wrapped them in a cloth and carefully dried them one by one to avoid direct contact between her skin and the toes.

The worst part is over, so what's a little drying of the soles of my feet now?

Wang Chong kept his eyes closed the whole time, leaning against the log, as if enjoying this rare moment of relaxation. Only the occasional slight twitch of his eyebrows showed that he was not completely indifferent.

Medea's careful, slow, and clumsy rubbing of his feet, the subtle awkwardness born of extreme fear, and her suppressed breaths due to tension...

All of this gave Wang Chong a strange sense of control. This gave him a greater sense of pleasure in taming than any violent suppression.

When Medea finally trembled as she wiped the last drop of water from his left foot, she was so exhausted that she almost collapsed to the ground.

"Is...is it okay now?" Medea's voice was hoarse, filled with a pleading tone as if she had just escaped a calamity, and she dared not look up at him.

Wang Chong slowly opened his eyes, stretched his clean feet, and seemed quite satisfied. He didn't answer immediately, but instead looked down at the disheveled girl kneeling at his feet with a scrutinizing gaze.

The firelight illuminated her disheveled hair, pale cheeks, eyelashes damp with a mixture of tears and sweat, and her body trembling like a candle flickering in the wind.

The former princess's glory has vanished, leaving only a captive stripped of all claws and teeth, left with only fear and obedience.

"Barely...passable," Wang Chong commented casually, as if assessing the cleanliness of a servant.

This assessment eased Medea's tense nerves slightly, but what followed was a deeper and more powerless humiliation.

Just then, Wang Chong suddenly raised his right foot without warning. His foot, which had just been washed and was still damp, did not touch the ground, but hovered above Medea's lowered head.

Medea's body stiffened abruptly, staring in horror at the foot hovering above her head. What was he going to do? Stomp on her head? This final humiliation...

However, Wang Chong stopped moving. His foot did not land, but hovered there. His gaze fell on Medea's collar, which was slightly open due to fear and humiliation, revealing a small section of her fair and delicate neck and delicate collarbone.

Wang Chong admired Medea's frightened appearance at this moment, which reminded him of the process of educating Ines.

“Remember tonight, Medea.” Wang Chong’s voice was low and cold, carrying a cruel declaration of ultimate ownership. “Remember your current identity and position. You are no longer the princess of Colchis, revered by all, nor Jason’s unforgettable fiancée.”

The mere mention of Jason's name sent a sharp, agonizing pain through Medea, as if an invisible hand were gripping her heart, accompanied by an even deeper sense of humiliation.

Jason, the man she loved with all her heart, only to be betrayed in return... Now, in order to see that heartless man again, she can only endure humiliation a hundred times worse than betrayal at the feet of another demon, just to survive!

The stark contrast and irony made her dizzy and almost faint.

Wang Chong savored the pain and confusion that flashed in her eyes because of the name "Jason," and the corners of his mouth deepened. His suspended foot, carrying an ultimate sense of insult and control, slowly moved down.

Instead of landing on Medea's head, it carried a slight coolness from the moisture and a clean feeling after washing. In an almost flirtatious manner, like teasing a pet, it used the side of the big toe to brush against Medea's exposed, delicate, and icy collarbone with extremely slow, irresistible pressure.

"Uh!"

Medea felt as if she had been struck by an electric current, her body trembling violently! The rough touch, the warm temperature, and the undisguised possessiveness and desecration contained within it made the hairs on her body stand on end instantly!

Though not a violent trampling, it was a deeper, more profound mark of ownership! Medea recoiled sharply, but her kneeling posture prevented her from completely avoiding it.

"From now on, you are simply my possession, and this is the first price you have to pay. Also, don't say I forced you; you should know that you've been doing all of this voluntarily."

Wang Chong's voice was like a spell, the last word clearly nailing into her soul.

As he uttered the last word, his toes left a fleeting touch on her collarbone before finally retracting and firmly placing their feet on the ground.

He stood up, his tall figure filling the small wooden house once again, casting a shadow that completely enveloped Medea, who was kneeling on the ground.

Medea slumped to the cold ground, her whole body icy, as if she had fallen into an ice cave.

The spot on my collarbone where my toes had rubbed against it still felt hot, as if it had left an invisible, humiliating mark.

The word "ownership" shattered her last remaining illusion of being an independent individual.

Wang Chong stopped looking at her, as if he had lost interest in the completely broken prey before him.

He went to the wooden table, fetched a bowl of water, drank it, and then returned to the wooden bed. He lay down, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, seemingly preparing to rest.

"Pour out the water. Then, be quiet. Sleep wherever you want." His cold voice broke the silence, bringing this humiliating ceremony to a close.

Medea raised her head and looked at the bucket of murky, muddy foot-washing water on the ground.

Medea struggled, using her last bit of strength to get up, her hands trembling as she lifted the heavy wooden tub. The water inside sloshed, and billowing steam still rose from it, seemingly indicating that the water was still warm.

She staggered out of the cabin, the icy night wind instantly piercing through her thin clothes. The pale moonlight spilled onto the beach, and the waves relentlessly pounded against the shore.

Medea went to the seashore and forcefully splashed the bathwater from the tub into the dark ocean. The water splashed everywhere, but was quickly swallowed by the boundless waves, just as her dignity had just been completely washed away.

Medea stood there, holding her empty bucket, beside the cold seawater, gazing blankly at the dark surface.

The sensation on her collarbone, where she had been touched, still lingered. The simple wooden hut behind her now seemed more like a prison, confining her soul.

Medea knew that once she fell into their hands, there was no turning back.

"Whether it's self-inflicted or retribution... I... I will endure it." Medea clenched her hands so tightly they turned white.

Compared to the painful memories to come, this isn't even the worst part. It's just being treated like a servant, isn't it?

Although they say that, how could they easily get over the humiliation they've suffered inside?

But in the end, after much deliberation, Medea decided to turn back.

Chapter 520 The rising tide, embracing one to sleep

"Ugh...it's so cold..."

In the dead of night, Medea was jolted awake by a sudden, bone-chilling cold. Curled up on her simple bed, her teeth chattering, she felt the room was much colder than she had expected. The air was thick with moisture, the damp chill seeming to seep into her very bones. Each breath left a trail of white mist, making the oppressive cold of the surrounding space even more acute. Always pampered, she had never imagined she would be awakened by the cold—even outside the comfort of her palace, even in the wilderness, she could always easily use fire magic to dispel the cold; she had never been in such a wretched state.

"Ugh, what should I do? This cold is unbearable... Should I go outside and sleep where there's a campfire?"

After much deliberation, Medea could no longer endure the persistent chill and finally decided to risk going outside to seek the warmth of the campfire. She held her breath, listening intently; Wang Chong's steady snoring was exceptionally clear in the silence. Carefully moving her body, trying not to make a sound, she tiptoed towards the door. She knew that waking her Master might bring unnecessary punishment, which would only make matters worse.

"Click—"

"pat~"

With great difficulty, Medea pushed open the heavy wooden door and was about to step out—

"Huh!?"

The sensation beneath her feet froze her in place. Icy seawater! She hadn't noticed when the surging tide had quietly risen to the edge of the threshold; the beach where the campfire had once burned was now completely swallowed by the dark waves, leaving only a vast expanse of ocean shimmering faintly in the moonlight. The sound of the tide, carrying the salty, damp air, rushed towards her; there was no trace of the fire.

Medea was startled and quickly withdrew her foot, retreating into the house. With the outside already in such a state, how could she possibly sleep on the beach? What tightened her heart even more was the deep worry that crossed her eyes: the tide was so fierce, wouldn't it... wouldn't it continue to rise and eventually submerge this makeshift wooden hut? Even if it only rose to floor level, turning the entire ground slippery and muddy, how would she rest?

……

As events unfolded, Medea's worst premonition was confirmed. She could only huddle beside the only source of warmth in the room, the fire, barely managing to ward off the chill. Her gaze, however, was uncontrollably fixed on the rising sea—the murky water seeped in through the cracks in the rough walls, spreading like greedy tentacles, quickly soaking the entire floorboards, making them sticky and cold to the touch. The makeshift wooden hut, ultimately inadequately sheltered, now became an accomplice to the cold.

Now, Medea had no place to sleep. Her feet were submerged in the icy seawater, her body temperature steadily dwindling. To make matters worse, she hadn't eaten anything that night, and now, exhausted and hungry, her body was as weak as a candle flickering in the wind. If she continued to be exposed to the cold, she might truly succumb to hypothermia—who would have thought that a dignified Servant could die from hypothermia? If word got out, wouldn't it become a colossal joke!

But Medea was unwilling to become such a laughingstock. After a long internal struggle, her nails digging deep into her palms, she finally made up her mind to wake Wang Chong. After all, if the sea continued to rise like this, the whole house would be flooded sooner or later. Rather than waiting for everyone to be awakened by the icy waves and panic, it would be better for her to wake him herself—that way, at least some embarrassment could be avoided.

Having made up her mind, Medea did not hesitate any longer. She immediately got up and quietly walked to Wang Chong's bedside.

"Um...please wake up...huh?"

She bent down, reached out, and prepared to gently push Wang Chong's shoulder to wake him from his slumber.

However, the moment her fingertips touched the fabric of his shoulder, a strange warmth instantly washed over her. Wang Chong's body felt like a small furnace, completely unaffected by the damp, cold night! Only then did Medea realize: the surroundings didn't seem so biting anymore? It was as if an invisible heat source existed before her, continuously radiating warmth, quietly dispelling the damp, cold air, and making the small space near the bed comfortable and pleasant.

"So he was hiding some kind of treasure in his clothes? No wonder he could sleep so peacefully without a blanket. Hmph..." Medea suddenly realized, thinking to herself. As a skilled magician, she immediately thought of magical props used for wilderness exploration—water-repellent, fireproof, and temperature-regulating gadgets; she herself had made quite a few of these kinds of things. It seemed that this Master also possessed similar protection.

"Ugh...it's so cold..."

In the dead of night, Medea was jolted awake by a sudden, bone-chilling cold. Curled up on her simple bed, her teeth chattering, she felt the room was much colder than she had expected. The air was thick with moisture, the damp chill seeming to seep into her very bones. Each breath left a trail of white mist, making the oppressive cold of the surrounding space even more acute. Always pampered, she had never imagined she would be awakened by the cold—even outside the comfort of her palace, even in the wilderness, she could always easily use fire magic to dispel the cold; she had never been in such a wretched state.

"Ugh, what should I do? This cold is unbearable... Should I go outside and sleep where there's a campfire?"

After much deliberation, Medea could no longer endure the persistent chill and finally decided to risk going outside to seek the warmth of the campfire. She held her breath, listening intently; Wang Chong's steady snoring was exceptionally clear in the silence. Carefully moving her body, trying not to make a sound, she tiptoed towards the door. She knew that waking her Master might bring unnecessary punishment, which would only make matters worse.

"Click—"

"pat~"

With great difficulty, Medea pushed open the heavy wooden door and was about to step out—

"Huh!?"

The sensation beneath her feet froze her in place. Icy seawater! She hadn't noticed when the surging tide had quietly risen to the edge of the threshold; the beach where the campfire had once burned was now completely swallowed by the dark waves, leaving only a vast expanse of ocean shimmering faintly in the moonlight. The sound of the tide, carrying the salty, damp air, rushed towards her; there was no trace of the fire.

Medea was startled and quickly withdrew her foot, retreating into the house. With the outside already in such a state, how could she possibly sleep on the beach? What tightened her heart even more was the deep worry that crossed her eyes: the tide was so fierce, wouldn't it... wouldn't it continue to rise and eventually submerge this makeshift wooden hut? Even if it only rose to floor level, turning the entire ground slippery and muddy, how would she rest?

……

As events unfolded, Medea's worst premonition was confirmed. She could only huddle beside the only source of warmth in the room, the fire, barely managing to ward off the chill. Her gaze, however, was uncontrollably fixed on the rising sea—the murky water seeped in through the cracks in the rough walls, spreading like greedy tentacles, quickly soaking the entire floorboards, making them sticky and cold to the touch. The makeshift wooden hut, ultimately inadequately sheltered, now became an accomplice to the cold.

Now, Medea had no place to sleep. Her feet were submerged in the icy seawater, her body temperature steadily dwindling. To make matters worse, she hadn't eaten anything that night, and now, exhausted and hungry, her body was as weak as a candle flickering in the wind. If she continued to be exposed to the cold, she might truly succumb to hypothermia—who would have thought that a dignified Servant could die from hypothermia? If word got out, wouldn't it become a colossal joke!

But Medea was unwilling to become such a laughingstock. After a long internal struggle, her nails digging deep into her palms, she finally made up her mind to wake Wang Chong. After all, if the sea continued to rise like this, the whole house would be flooded sooner or later. Rather than waiting for everyone to be awakened by the icy waves and panic, it would be better for her to wake him herself—that way, at least some embarrassment could be avoided.