Chapter 3: The Disguise of the Return Journey and the Erosion of Night

The night, like thick ink, completely soaked into the Camelot wasteland. The wind still howled, but seemed to have lost its daytime ferocity, becoming low and mournful, brushing across the scorched earth and corpses, carrying a faint sound, like the sighs of the dead. The stars, cold and icy, adorned the velvety night sky, casting a weak and distant light, barely outlining the grotesque contours of the battlefield ruins.

Leon Hart followed the familiar yet unfamiliar figure, his steps faltering, each one feeling like walking on a blade. Under the Demon King's eerie healing power, his external wounds had healed, his broken bones had miraculously healed, and even his strength had largely returned. But this was not a blessing, but a mark, a shameful reminder that the humiliating contract was constantly in effect. He felt like a puppet controlled by invisible threads, following step by step the lantern-carrying figure ahead.

A delicate magical lantern had appeared in Serafina's hand, emitting a soft and steady white light that dispelled the darkness in a small area around her. This lantern was originally a sacred object that Serafina used to heal the wounded or pray at night. Now, held in the Demon King's hands, the light remained, but it seemed to have lost its inherent sacred meaning, becoming merely a practical lighting tool.

She walked slowly, her steps light and steady. The hem of her white gown brushed against the pebbles and debris on the ground, yet strangely, it didn't pick up any new stains. Her long, silvery-white hair shimmered with a cool, ethereal light in the lantern's glow. The black stockings on her legs were almost invisible in the night; only when the lantern's light occasionally swept across them with each step did they reflect a fleeting, smooth texture. She even hummed a little tune, an ethereal and beautiful melody, a hymn praising the God of Light that Serafina often sang. However, when it came from her lips, the familiar melody carried a cold, devoid of any piety, imitative quality, like a finely crafted forgery, each note piercing Leon's eardrums.

Leon followed silently behind, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging deep into his palms, bringing a sharp pain—the only way he could confirm his own existence at that moment. His heart was like being thrown into a purgatory of ice and fire, tormented repeatedly. The anxiety for Seraphia's safety, the deep-seated hatred for the Demon King, the anger at his own powerlessness, and… the shame and self-loathing for the indelible physical pleasure he had experienced in that immoral act not long ago—all these emotions intertwined and tore at him wildly, almost threatening to completely devour his reason.

“We need to find a place to spend the night.” ‘Seraphina’, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and turned around. The light from her lantern illuminated her flawless face, making her blue eyes appear exceptionally deep, the crimson hidden beneath seeming to have temporarily subsided. “Your companions will need a little more time to wake up; traveling through the night with them won’t be convenient.” Her tone was calm, as if discussing a trivial matter unrelated to herself.

Leon followed her gaze and saw that the shield warrior Galf and the elven mage Ella were still **** in the same spot, shrouded in a thin, almost invisible black energy film. This must have been the work of the Demon King to ensure that they would not wake up prematurely and interfere with his "game".

"What did you do to them?" Leon's voice was dry and hoarse.

"Just to make them more comfortable." She shrugged indifferently, a gesture that, when performed by Serafina, should have carried a touch of girlish naiveté, but now only felt uncomfortably out of place. "Don't worry, once we find a place to stay, I'll 'wake them up.' After all, it would be more like the whole 'Hero Squad' returning, wouldn't it?"

Having said that, she ignored Leon and turned her gaze to the edge of the wasteland, where the outline of a dark forest, resembling a crouching behemoth in the night, was faintly visible. "I remember there's an abandoned border post marked on the map over there. Let's go there."

The tone of the command left no room for argument.

Leon did not refute, nor could he. He silently walked over and tried to carry the burly Galf on his back, but his body, still recovering from serious injuries, felt unsteady and he almost fell over.

"Tsk, what a sorry sight." 'Seraphina' clicked her tongue and walked over. Instead of helping Galf, she extended a finger, its tip wreathed in faint dark energy, and gently touched Galf's forehead. The next moment, Galf's heavy body seemed to lose most of its weight, becoming light as a feather. Leon easily hoisted him onto his back.

“A little ‘convenience’,” she said casually, then did the same thing again, making the elf Ella’s body light as well, and then gestured for Leon to take her along as well.

Leon gritted his teeth, carrying one **** companion in each arm, and followed behind 'Seraphina' carrying a lantern, stumbling and sinking into the forest. The sense of responsibility for his companion slightly lessened the humiliation in his heart, but looking at the swaying, demonic figure that had possessed his wife's body, a heavy sense of despair still clung to him.

The abandoned border post, nestled on the edge of the forest, was constructed of rough, weathered rocks, giving it a dilapidated and desolate appearance. Most of the wooden doors and windows were rotten and broken, and the interior reeked of damp mustiness and dust. 'Seraphina' seemed quite satisfied with the place; she used a simple Breeze spell—still a holy spell from Serafina's memories—but as she cast it, Leon keenly sensed a very subtle dark fluctuation—dispersing the dust and cobwebs in the main hall.

She placed the lantern on a cracked wooden table, its light barely illuminating the small space. In the corner lay a pile of dry weeds, seemingly bedding left behind by soldiers who had once been stationed there.

“Just leave them there,” she said, pointing to the pile of weeds.

Leon silently settled Galf and Ella, checked their breathing and pulse, and only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that they were only in a deep coma and their vital signs were stable.

“Now, it’s time to take care of our business, my ‘husband’,” Serafina’s voice came from behind.

Leon froze, then slowly turned around. She had already untied the blue robe's sash, removed the outer robe, and neatly—this meticulous tidying habit was also Seraphina's—folded it and placed it on the table. Then, she began to unfasten the clasp at the waist of her white holy dress.

"What...what are you planning to do now?" Leon's voice trembled uncontrollably. The horrific experience on the battlefield during the day replayed like a nightmare.

"What for?" She tilted her head, a strange smile playing on her lips, a smile that was somewhere between innocent and seductive. "To clean myself up and rest, of course. Do you want me to return to the capital covered in... the marks of battle? Or would you rather I stay like that?"

The implication in her words sent a shiver down Leon's spine. He watched as 'she' slowly unzipped her white dress, the smooth fabric sliding down her fair skin and piling up at her feet. Once again, her bare upper body was revealed, clad only in white panties, black stockings, and silver boots. The lantern's light streamed across her snow-white skin, outlining the alluring curves of her full breasts, the pink nipples contracting slightly in the cool air, becoming even more erect.

“Come here, Leon,” she commanded, her voice carrying an irresistible magic.

Leon's legs felt like lead, and he moved heavily, step by step, until he stood before her. Up close, he could clearly see the fine downy hairs on her skin and smell the complex scent that mingled with the fragrance of a saint, the aroma of desire, and a hint of inhuman coldness.

She reached out and began to unfasten the clasps of Leon's tattered armor. Her movements were practiced, as if she had done it countless times—in fact, Seraphia often helped him remove his heavy armor. But at this moment, the familiar action was filled with a sense of blasphemy. The cold metal plates were removed piece by piece, revealing the cotton lining underneath, soaked with sweat and then dried, stiff and hard.

When the last piece of armor on his upper body was removed, exposing Leon's muscular torso to the air, Serafina's gaze swept over his strong chest and abdominal muscles with the scrutiny of someone appraising merchandise.

“The human male body is just as interesting.” She murmured to herself, one hand resting on his chest, her palm feeling his taut muscles and rapid heartbeat through the thin lining. Her other hand began to unbuckle his belt.

“No… I’ll do it myself…” Leon tried to stop him.

"Shh..." She extended her index finger and gently pressed it to his lips, the cool, silky touch of her gloved fingertip sending shivers down his spine. "Obedience is part of the contract, remember?"

Leon froze. A sense of humiliation gripped his heart like a poisonous vine, tightening ever more.

She easily unbuckled his belt, removed his tattered skirt armor and underpants, leaving him almost naked like her in the dilapidated outpost, only his combat boots still on his feet. The cool air stimulated his skin, but he felt a burning heat all over his body, especially his lower body, which, under her undisguised gaze, shamefully became aroused again.

“See, it’s always so honest.” ’Seraphina’ chuckled, her gaze fixed there with a hint of mockery. She crouched down to be parallel to its erect form, then extended her white-gloved hand and grasped it once more.

"Mmm..." Leon groaned softly, closing his eyes, unwilling to look at the sight that filled him with unbearable shame. But his senses were amplified infinitely. The delicate friction of the silk gloves, with their slightly cool touch, contrasted sharply with his own burning heat, bringing an extremely immoral stimulation. Her fingers moved nimbly, sometimes tightening and sometimes loosening, occasionally the fingertips brushing against the sensitive edge of the tip, arousing waves of shivers.

“During the day, things were a bit rushed.” She looked up at Leon’s face, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed, her voice carrying a deliberate softness. “Now, let’s have time… to properly ‘experience’ a deeper ‘communication’ between human couples.”

After saying that, she lowered her head, opened her beautifully shaped lips, and took his burning tip into her mouth!

“！！！”

An intensely warm, tight, and soft sensation instantly swept through every nerve ending in Leon's body! This was more stimulating, more intimate, and even more...blasphemous than the previous penetration! He abruptly opened his eyes, staring incredulously at his 'wife' kneeling beneath him. Her long, silvery-white hair cascaded down, partially obscuring her face, but he could still see her focused profile, even with a hint of academic inquiry, and the slight movement of her cheeks.

"Mmm..." A muffled whimper escaped from deep within her throat, her tongue deftly entwining and licking the sensitive coronal sulcus, sometimes gently scraping the urethral opening with the taste buds at the tip of her tongue, sometimes swallowing the entire penis deeper, letting the tip touch the soft walls of her throat. Her hands, clad in white silk gloves, were not idle either, continuing to stroke the base, caressing the taut scrotum.

Intense pleasure surged like a tsunami, wave after wave crashing against Leon's defenses. This had once been one of the most intimate and intense pleasures he shared with Seraphina, but now it had become a tool for the devil to toy with and humiliate him. He clenched his teeth desperately, trying not to make any shameful sounds, but his body trembled uncontrollably, his waist even making slight back-and-forth movements—purely a physiological instinct reacting to **** stimulation, yet it filled him with utter self-loathing.

Seraphina's oral service was highly skillful, sometimes slow and deep, like savoring a delicacy, sometimes rapid and forceful, as if sucking out his entire soul. Saliva slid down the corners of her mouth, forming lascivious silver threads that dripped onto her snow-white skin, wetting her chin and neck. Occasionally, she would lift her eyelids, glancing with her hazy yet icy blue eyes at Leon's contorted expression, a mixture of pleasure, pain, and ecstasy, as if watching a captivating drama.

Just as Leon felt he was about to collapse and was about to lose control of the urge to ejaculate, 'she' suddenly stopped and withdrew the wet, glistening erection from her mouth.

“It seems you enjoy this.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, stood up, and wore a satisfied yet teasing smile. “However, the main course hasn’t even started yet.”

She turned around, bracing herself on the dusty wooden table with both hands, and bent over. This position made her round, full buttocks stick out high, and her pure white cotton panties tautly hugged her two plump mounds, clearly showing the deep cleft between her buttocks and the slightly concave triangle area in front. The edges of her black stockings dug deep into the tender flesh at the base of her thighs, leaving alluring marks. She even took the initiative to use her hands to push the thin white fabric aside, completely exposing her already moist, slightly parted pink flower path.

“Come on, Leon.” She turned her head, her eyes hazy and inviting, mimicking Serafina’s passionate expression, but the coldness deep in her eyes remained. “From behind… like you sometimes liked… take me.”

This perfectly mimicked posture and words became the final straw that broke Leon's back. Anger, desire, humiliation, and the painful recollection of past intimacy exploded at that moment, overwhelming him. He roared, like a beast that had lost its mind, and lunged forward, roughly grabbing her slender waist with both hands. His burning hardness aimed at her wet entrance, and without any foreplay, he thrust in hard, all the way to the bottom!

"ah--!"

The two made sounds almost simultaneously. 'Seraphina' was a scream of pain and pleasure from the aggressive, all-consuming penetration that instantly filled all emptiness. Leon, on the other hand, let out a suffocating sigh from the intensely tight, wet, and enveloping sensation, a mixture of immense pain and perverse pleasure.

He stopped thinking, stopped struggling, letting his ignited desire and pent-up negative emotions dominate his body, and began a frenzied ****. Each thrust was heavy and brutal, as if he wanted to channel all his anger and despair into this body, into the depths of the demonic soul that had possessed his beloved wife! His scrotum slapped heavily against her snow-white buttocks, making crisp, loud "slap" sounds that echoed repeatedly in the silent outpost. The sticky, wet sounds grew even more turbulent with the intense friction, and the air was thick with an overwhelming, lewd atmosphere.

'Seraphina' seemed to thoroughly enjoy this rough treatment. She actively welcomed his thrusts from behind, her waist twisting like a water snake, allowing each penetration to go deeper and rub against her most sensitive spots. Her wanton moans grew louder and louder, no longer imitations, but the most genuine reaction of her body under intense stimulation, even though this reaction was observed and exploited by the Demon King's mind.

“Yes…that’s it…my hero…harder…punish me…possess this…body that belongs to you…” she murmured intermittently, her words like the most potent aphrodisiac, stimulating Leon’s nerves. She even reached behind her back, stroking his taut thighs and buttocks, guiding his rhythm.

Leon's eyes were bloodshot, his breathing heavy as a bull's, every muscle in his body tense, pulsating wildly. He felt as if he were dancing in the flames of hell, each thrust bringing a burning pleasure and agony. He stared intently at the snow-white buttocks that swayed violently with each impact, and the thighs that looked even more alluring against the backdrop of black stockings. His mind was blank, filled only with the most primal desires for conquest and destruction.

The wild lovemaking lasted for an unknown amount of time, until Leon felt an uncontrollable torrent surge up his spine once more. He let out a low growl like a dying beast, forcefully and unreservedly pouring his burning seed into that warm, deepest part. At the same time, 'Seraphina's' body convulsed violently, her inner valley contracting in waves as if trying to squeeze out his soul as well. She let out a long, satisfied sigh, her body limp on the table, only a slight tremor remaining.

In the afterglow of his climax, Leon, panting heavily, lay motionless on her sweat-drenched back. As the passion subsided, a tremendous emptiness and a deeper sense of humiliation surged into his heart like a tidal wave, almost overwhelming him.

'Seraphina' was the first to regain her composure. She gently pushed him away, stood up, and, unconcerned about the muddy mess between her legs, began to slowly and methodically tidy her clothes, pulling her underwear back into place and smoothing out the wrinkles in her gown, as if the intense lovemaking had never happened.

She walked to the lantern, picked up the blue robe she had folded earlier, put it on again, and tied the sash. In an instant, she transformed back into the holy and dignified saint, showing no abnormality except for the lingering flush on her cheeks and a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction in her eyes.

She turned around, looked at Leon who was still standing there naked from the waist down, looking utterly lost, and said calmly:

"Clean up and rest. Tomorrow, we still have to travel back to the capital." Her tone was calm and even, as if the woman who had just been writhing and behaving wantonly beneath him was merely his illusion.

“Remember, Leon,” she added, her voice low but carrying a chilling warning, “from now until I tire of this game, ‘Seraphina’ is your wife, and you are her husband. Consider today’s ‘experience’ as a special memory to strengthen our bond as husband and wife.”

After saying that, she stopped looking at him, walked to the haystack in the corner, sat down next to the **** Ella, closed her eyes, and seemed to enter into meditation or sleep.

Leon stood rooted to the spot, his body ice-cold. He looked at the figure, so holy in the lantern's light, then down at the lingering bodily fluids belonging to him and "her," and a massive, nauseating sense of absurdity gripped him. He slowly knelt down, his trembling hands grabbing handfuls of dirt from the ground, rubbing his body violently, trying to wipe away the shameful traces, but he felt the filth had seeped into his very bones, impossible to cleanse.

The night was deep, and in the abandoned outpost, only the steady breathing of the **** man and Leon's suppressed, low sobs, like those of a wounded beast, could be heard.