"No! The mark you bestowed perfectly intimidated those ill-intentioned people. Even the guards only questioned us symbolically before letting us leave."
As she said this, Fangus lowered her head and gently stroked the Arcane Mark on her chest with her fingers, excitement evident in both her gaze and tone.
This was the first time since her birth that she had not been discriminated against or excluded because of her Werewolf identity.
She could even walk openly beneath the sunlight without worrying about being driven away or killed.
Having the protection of a powerful and benevolent master feels wonderful...
The young Werewolf girl could not help but entertain such a thought.
Noticing her reaction, which resembled Stockholm Syndrome, Raymond's expression immediately turned rather strange.
He could understand how desperately Lycanthropes, a marginalized group rejected by civilized society, wanted to live like ordinary people, even if the price was becoming someone's private property.
But developing such a strong dependence on a mark symbolizing servitude, even feeling grateful to the master who had branded it on her—wasn't that a little too masochistic?
By modern medical standards, this was unquestionably a psychological illness, the kind that required long-term treatment.
But Raymond soon discarded these thoughts that had suddenly surfaced in his mind.
After all, Faerûn was not Earth. The two worlds possessed completely different values.
In Faerûn, the relationship between masters and servants was widespread.
Even Paladins from noble families usually had several manservants or maids in their households.
Besides, he was not a professional psychologist, nor did he have the time or energy to spend months or even years correcting the mistaken ideas of a group of Wolf Pups.
Hearing that his Arcane Mark had worked, Raymond immediately continued asking, "So, did you find anything interesting at the pet market?"
Fangus hurriedly nodded