*Roswaaline*

The voice echoed in my mind before I could even articulate the complete thought. Like a god playing with the clay of creation, I already knew what to do. Roswaal—that eccentric clown with his ridiculous clothes and obscure ambitions—would be my next masterpiece.

**"Roswaal L Mathers,"** I murmured, feeling divine power flow like an electric current through my fingers. **"By order of your new god, your body will be reshaped. Bones will refine, hips will widen, and between those thighs... ah, yes, something *deliciously* new will grow."**

Emilia raised an eyebrow as she watched through the window, where Roswaal was in the garden, hunched over a magic book. Suddenly, he writhed, clutching his chest as a muffled cry escaped his lips. His clothes began to tighten, the fabrics stretching as his shoulders narrowed and his hips rounded. Her long hair grew even longer, acquiring a silky sheen, while her face softened into delicate features.

Elsa laughed, licking her lips. "Ohhh, this is going to be fun."

Roswaal—now *Roswaaline*—fell to her knees on the lawn, panting. Her generous, heavy breasts swayed beneath her now-torn shirt. When she lifted her face, her heterochromatic eyes were glazed, brimming with submission.

"M-Master..." her voice was a husky, feminine whisper, full of adoration. "What... what have you done to me?"

I stepped onto the porch, smiling. "I've improved you."

With a gesture, I commanded her clothes to fall apart, leaving only her striped stockings and high-heeled shoes. Her now curvaceous body trembled in the sun, her skin flushed as her hesitant hands explored the new contours—the soft breasts, the slender waist, and between her thighs…

"D-don't you have…?" she stammered, touching the place where a member had once been.

"Oh, yes, you do," I corrected, moving closer. "Just… *reformatted*."

When my fingers slipped into that moist, warm cleft, she cried out, arching like a bow. Her brand-new body responded with an *absurd* sensitivity, each touch sending shocks of pure pleasure.

Emilia leaned against the railing, biting her lip. "Can I… help?"

"Of course," I said, pulling Roswaaline by the hair until she was on all fours. **"Show her how a *real* woman receives her master."**

While Emilia knelt behind, licking and exploring with her tongue, Elsa clung to my arm, laughing softly.

**"The mansion is now a harem, master. And all of us... are only yours."**

I looked at the windows—Ram, Rem, Beatrice watching with eyes burning with possessiveness and desire.

*Yes.* This was going to be *fun.*