“It’s a gift my parents gave me on my birthday. Though now it’s become a keepsake.”
“It’s a mirror.”
“A mirror that shows you whatever you desire. I’ve only used it once, so I’ve been saving it. When I miss someone, I’ll open the wardrobe door. Maybe in a hundred years or so… I might want to see you then.”
“Aren’t you taking my ashes? You’ll make a necklace.”
Argen pondered seriously. A necklace made from Valen’s remains… If hung in the Demon King’s castle, complaints would surely pour in night after night. She could vividly picture the demonic faces screaming to burn it, claiming a club-wielding evil spirit had come. Argen politely declined.
“I wasn’t really planning to give it to you, but now that you refuse, I feel kind of weird.”He chuckled softly before rising. Thud. He closed the wardrobe door for her and turned away.
Argen didn’t stop Valen as he left the room without hesitation. He walked away from her without looking back.
The moment he parted from Argen, Valen hurried to the bathroom. Even dousing his head with cold water did nothing to subdue his arousal. His swollen glans remained damp and pulsed violently.
Why is my body doing this? This isn’t normal. An unfamiliar sense of crisis overwhelmed him.
“Haah, kuh, uh…”
His veins bulging, his hand roughly rubbed the stiff, erect penis. The grip was so strong it scraped the skin raw, turning it red. Yet the boiling lust simmering below his navel showed no sign of abating.
“Damn, ahh. Aah!”
Argen’s image clung to his retina, refusing to fade. From the thighs exposed when she lifted her skirt, to her pretty knees, shins, and ankles. He wanted to kiss every visible inch. She awkwardly wiped his face, snatching his filthy hands.
Unaware of his restraint, she continued swaying before him…
He nearly persuaded her to undress with base, illogical words. With an innocent face, Argen would likely say, “Alright,” and pull her clothes down. Even if Valen roughly kneaded her breasts, she would endure the pain. Even if he forced his glans into her dry opening, she would only frown. His savage lust was on the verge of scorching his brain black.
‘I have never once thought you were dirty. And I never will.’
The explosive, precarious lust began to stir his heart in a different direction. The scent of pear blossoms still lingered at his nostrils. And not just that. It licked his oesophagus, settled in his stomach, and reached the erect flesh. His entire body was drenched in Argen. Even when he first experienced nocturnal emissions, he hadn’t gotten erections as relentlessly as he did now.
“Haah, haah, haah…”
Closing his eyes brought back nights spent with Argen. Hearing her voice made his member ache. Just imagining her light footsteps, like his own, and her soft, rustling hair made him feel like he could come. He wanted to hold her so badly he felt like he might go mad.
Yet this unbearable urge soon felt like fear. Being constantly drained of vitality by the succubus seemed to have broken his body. Had he collapsed to this base, ugly desire he once despised? Even after everything was resolved and he returned to the human world, he knew he would often—perhaps quite frequently—think of Argen.
Valen clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding. He knew he must restrain himself, but the voice echoing in his ears refused to fade.
The infinitely ascetic and prim Argen would blush fiercely at the slightest kiss, moaning lewdly. When he pushed her with brutal force, she gasped for breath, struggling, yet never once refused him. She either closed her eyes as if enduring it or willingly parted her lips and legs, moving her tongue clumsily but willingly.
Her inability to push him away despite her distress filled him with a vulgar satisfaction.It wasn’t part of a deal, nor was there any coercion, yet thinking of Argen made him stroke his cock roughly. His throat kept drying up. His dry throat kept swallowing saliva, drowning in a vicious thirst.
What he wanted to swallow wasn’t his own saliva, but Argen’s soft tongue. If he sucked hard enough to make her throat tighten, she’d freeze, not knowing what to do. He wanted to grab her small nape in one hand and bite her tongue.
“Huh, uh… “
Valen reluctantly pushed two fingers between his teeth. His eyes were hazy, as if lost in a mirage. He licked and sucked earnestly, but it tasted awful. Calloused fingers from gripping swords, thick knuckles—not exactly ideal.
Pulling his hand out, a long trail of hot saliva stretched from his fingertips. His tongue pushed against his lower lip and darted out through the slightly parted teeth. Valen gasped, hot breath escaping as he shook the flesh like squeezing a lump of meat.
The sensation teetered on the edge, just barely rippling at the threshold, driving him mad. His palm grew sticky with bodily fluids, increasing the flesh’s clinging intensity. He rubbed the swollen, red glans with his palm, grinding his forearm against the shaft as if it would burst, yet he couldn’t release the heat.
He saw the torn hem of Argen’s skirt. It wasn’t something he’d just noticed now. It had bothered him all along, but he’d deliberately ignored it. But now wasn’t the time to worry about pride.
Valen instinctively grabbed what he’d tossed aside with his clothes and tightly knotted it around the base of his glans. The sensation of it pulling tight felt similar to when he’d thrust into her inner walls.
“Hah, ugh… Ugh, ah…!”
A vague awareness that he was doing something insane crept in, but he couldn’t stop the act. His head tilted back further, thick veins bulging along his neck. His adam’s apple bobbed dangerously, and the hair swept back over his forehead swayed with the speed of his shaking.
The heat below grew intense, her mind going completely blank. Finally, Valen groaned like a beast and shot his semen onto the cold wall. His sweat-soaked abs twitched spasmodically. The spine between his broad shoulder blades writhed, drenched in perspiration. Valen expelled ragged breaths.
“Haah, haah…”
Only after the body-shuddering pleasure faded did Valen look down at his own member, red as if about to burst. Semen dripped, drop by drop, from the scrap of cloth Argen had given him. For a moment, his flesh twitched upward.
“Damn it…”
In the end, Valen had to press his forehead against the cold wall and rub himself below again and again.
“Why has No. 38 been acting like that lately?”
“It’s been ten days already.”
“He was never normal to begin with. Don’t worry about it. Just avoid making eye contact.”
In the middle of the backyard, where sunlight beat down directly. Ignoring the perfectly good benches and tea tables, Valen sat on the grass, his shoes kicked off. Cross-legged, eyes tightly shut, he listened to the wails of demonic birds echoing around him: ‘Waaah! Waaah-!’
It was humiliating… but he accepted that he had become accustomed to Argen’s body. She belonged to a race specialised in seducing all things, and humans adapted easily to any situation. He had contracted a fatal disease that left him unable to even masturbate without Argen’s help, but in a way, it was only natural.
Yesterday it was the conclusion Valen had reached at dawn, after spending the entire night consumed by self-loathing over his actions in the bathroom. An irresistible force.The desires of the flesh are base and easily captivated. As long as he didn’t surrender his beliefs, he wouldn’t be ensnared to the soul. In that sense, Valen was holding his ground against Argen, who unleashed the most heinous temptations.
…Still, restraint was necessary.
This morning. He nearly broke down her bedroom door. Thankfully, his own alert hand, sensing danger, smacked his head against the chair in time.
Valen took a deep breath through his nose, then slowly exhaled the thoughts born of desire through his mouth. As he breathed deeply, the chaotic turmoil within him began to settle.
It was a method he’d used when enduring torture. It worked well, as always. Wait, was this even torture?
Valen rose from his seat, his expression noticeably clearer. Tap tap. He dusted himself off and hooked his shoes onto his fingers.
While someone was going through this hell, what was Argen doing? Probably sleeping peacefully. He walked barefoot across the cold floor of the courtyard. He deliberately took a detour to stop by the banquet hall, but there were no familiar faces. If he saw the three demon lords, there was a high chance Argen would be there too.