The Witch's Amnesiac Sex Slave

Those beautiful dark golden eyes of Cassius should have been filled with dependence and desire for me.

Not like this—bewildered and innocent, like a lost fawn.

I concealed my form and lounged lazily on the thickest oak branch overlooking the knight order's camp, swinging my legs as my gaze pierced through the night, settling on the campfire below.

A group of familiar yet unfamiliar minor characters sat huddled around the flames.

From their attire, I could make out the elven mage Elara from wanted posters, and that dwarf warrior Finn whose beard was forever stained with ale.

And of course, there was the human knight captain in gleaming mithril armor with "absolute justice" written all over his face—my sworn enemy, Arthur.

Caught between this motley crew, pale-faced and utterly out of place, was my Cassius.

The master assassin who once struck terror into every knight order, and... my devoted pet who shared my bed.

Arthur, the blind fool, clearly didn't recognize him.

Not surprising, really. The dark magic and spatial turbulence he'd encountered three days ago while searching for magic crystals had not only cleansed his terrifying aura, but even turned his flamboyant red hair into this harmless shade of brown.

With his fangs and claws retracted, he looked no different from any ordinary commoner in distress.

Who would have thought that when we met again, he'd not only lost his memory but been picked up by these self-righteous idiots, even being ordered around like a servant to tend their fire.

I pulled out my communication stone and reached out to my vampire confidante Lilith: "My apex predator has turned into a lost little lamb. This contrast has me a bit confused about where to sink my teeth in."

The reply came almost instantly: "Where else? While he hasn't even grown his fangs back, devour him whole, darling."

I tucked away the stone with a curl of my lips.

Through the swaying shadows, the dancing firelight perfectly illuminated his half-wet, tattered linen shirt, tightly outlining that lean, strong, beautiful waistline.

I stared at him, silently grinding my molars.

I wondered if later tonight, when I slipped into his tent and bit down on that firm nape again... whether this little beast who'd lost his fangs could still suppress those alluring gasps.

Just as my thoughts began sliding toward unspeakable territory, an utterly nauseating voice brutally shattered the exquisite atmosphere.

"Poor young man." Arthur sighed as he stepped forward, reaching out to pat his shoulder.

Cassius recoiled like he'd been electrocuted, stumbled over a root, and nearly tumbled face-first into the mud.

I raised an eyebrow in the shadows.

The former king of assassins who once danced on knife edges couldn't even maintain his footing now. That spatial turbulence really had washed him clean.

So... delicately vulnerable it made me want to thoroughly ravage him.

"Don't be afraid, Leon." The elven mage spoke coldly, using the new name they'd given him.

"You've suffered so much." Arthur felt no embarrassment whatsoever, instead pointing righteously at the expanse of pale skin visible through Cassius's open collar. "Those damned dark creatures must have put you through hell. Look at all these scars—this is proof that justice has been trampled!"

I nearly burst into laughter on my branch.

Scars?

Was Arthur referring to the neat row of bite marks on Cassius's collarbone, or those scratches on his nape?

Those were my love bites. From the night before he disappeared, when he'd pressed me down with reddened eyes and ragged breathing, kissing and begging me to leave marks on him.

Now Cassius had brown hair that lay obediently against his pale forehead, no longer carrying the crimson wildness of being soaked in enemy blood.

I could sense the void deep in his soul—he'd forgotten the dagger in his hand, forgotten himself, and most importantly, he'd forgotten me.

An indescribable wicked amusement rose from the depths of my heart.

Watching his confused and helpless expression, I lightly traced an ancient rune in the air with my fingertip.

Single-line telepathic contract, activated.

"They're rather noisy, aren't they?"

I lowered my voice to a lazy, husky whisper and sent it directly into his mind.

Cassius's head snapped up, terror flashing through those dark golden eyes. Like a startled rabbit, his body tensed as he looked around frantically.

"Who?!" he blurted out.

The dwarf gulping ale nearby jumped in surprise, and Arthur paused his lengthy sermon to look at him with concern: "What's wrong, Leon?"

"It's... it's nothing." Leon swallowed hard and lowered his head. His hands clutched his shirt hem so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Don't be nervous, little lamb." I chuckled softly, my voice dripping with mockery. "I'm in your mind. You're the only one who can hear me."

Leon's body shuddered violently.

His breathing became rapid, his chest rising and falling dramatically. He didn't dare look at the people around him, only stared fixedly at the ground.

"W-who are you? Some kind of demon?" he asked carefully in his mind.

"A demon? No, I'm much more delightful than demons." I shifted position, resting my chin on my hand as I gazed down at him appreciatively. "You can call me... mistress."

Leon's ears instantly turned bright red, the flush quickly spreading down his neck.

He bit his lower lip, seemingly struggling to endure something.

"I'm... I'm no one's slave. The knight captain says that under God's light, we are all free." He tried to counter me with Arthur's recent brainwashing rhetoric, but his soft tone carried absolutely no force.

"Oh? Is that so?"

I deliberately drew out my words. "Then why don't you dare tell that golden-haired fool about the voice in your head? Are you afraid they'll discover you're already tainted by darkness and burn you at the stake as a heretic?"

Leon froze.

I'd hit his current weakness. Without his memories, he was like driftwood, desperately afraid of being abandoned by the group that had just accepted him.

"What exactly do you want?" His voice carried a tremor on the verge of breaking.

So adorable.

The former Cassius wouldn't even frown when pierced by multiple swords simultaneously. Now, after just a few words from me, he was nearly in tears.

"Nothing in particular." I spoke softly, my tone like lovers' whispers. "I just find you interesting. And... your heartbeat is so loud. It makes me think this is the sound of you falling for me."

Leon's face turned completely red.

He didn't even dare respond in his mind anymore, standing by the campfire like a wooden post, letting the heat steam his burning cheeks.

"Alright, everyone camp here tonight!"

Arthur drew his sword, pointing it toward the night sky with fanatic fervor. "Tomorrow, we'll cross this forest and storm that calamitous witch's lair! For justice!"

"Storm my lair?"

I laughed silently in the shadows of the treetops.

These idiots hadn't even figured out the route—at Akaros Crossroads beyond the forest, left led to an irritable dragon, right to my thorn-covered Blackspire Tower.

I was genuinely looking forward to seeing these blind fools crash into a dead end tomorrow.