Salavira was momentarily stunned, allowing Asmodeus to hold him so intimately without feeling the urge to push him away. A sense of bitterness and pain inexplicably spread from the void in his heart, giving him an impulse to lift his arms, lower his head, and embrace the demon in his arms. And indeed, he did just that.
It wasn’t until much later that Salavira realized this emotion was called guilt.
Asmodeus quietly nestled in Salavira’s embrace, inhaling the faint scent close to his nose, looking both obedient and aggrieved. It was hard to believe that this person had done such excessive things to the one he was holding not long ago. But no one could see that, contrary to his gentle actions, his eyes were cold and devoid of any tenderness. Only when Salavira embraced him did a hint of emotion appear in his eyes.
“Salavira…” Asmodeus’s voice was a bit hoarse, “Let’s not fight anymore, okay? From now on, stay with me in this palace and never return to the human side, okay?”
Salavira was taken aback by these words, momentarily thinking he was dreaming. Otherwise, how could such a notorious demon “plead” with him in this manner? And more absurdly, for a moment, he actually seriously considered the demon’s proposal.
After a sarcastic chuckle, he released his hold on Asmodeus.
“Asmodeus, you and I both know that’s impossible.”
“……”
The demon holding him fell silent again, but the grip on his waist tightened, almost making it hard for him to breathe. Then Asmodeus suddenly smiled, “Salavira, you won’t even bother to lie to me.”
“I… ugh!” Salavira wanted to say something, but a sudden dull pain came from the skin covering the void in his heart, making him cry out involuntarily. He looked down to see Asmodeus biting the spot where his heart should be, with such force that blood soon seeped out.
(Reviewer! It’s just a bite! It’s like when you say you don’t want your dog anymore, and your dog gets mad and bites you! Nothing inappropriate!)
“What are you doing now!”
Salavira winced in pain, grabbing the hair of the person in his arms and pulling hard, but he couldn’t budge him. Only after a deep bloody bite mark was left on his chest did Asmodeus let go, stepping back a bit to admire his handiwork.
Honestly, the mark itself wasn’t particularly attractive, even a bit too bloody. But it was imprinted on Salavira, in the same spot as the sword wound on his own chest, and in Asmodeus’s eyes, the bite mark had an indescribable, alluring yet eerie beauty.
He couldn’t help but stick out his tongue and lick it.
The soft, smooth sensation suddenly touched his skin, and even though the spot was a bleeding wound, Salavira’s body, which had been indulged in previous wild activities, couldn’t help but tremble, a soft moan escaping his lips.
“wu… en! ting, tingxia… bie tian…”
As soon as these words left his mouth, Salavira immediately covered his mouth with his hand. But when he looked down, he met Asmodeus’s raised eyes.
The other was still pressed against his chest, half his face buried in the soft flesh, his eyes carrying a mischievous smile.
Then this guy stuck out his tongue a bit, moving slightly to the lower left, licking his…
…
Salavira couldn’t stop… but received no mercy from the demon. Soon, Asmodeus was no longer satisfied with the sweet treat at his lips, picking up the silver-haired beauty who had turned into a soft mess, carefully savoring the clean, white cream puff…
(Reviewer, it’s just eating dessert! My character loves cream puffs!!)
…
At this moment—
Solent City still hadn’t seen dawn, shrouded in endless darkness. The survivors within the Holy Son’s barrier, hearing no movement outside, gathered their courage to leave this ghostly place. But even though Salavira had been taken by the demon, the barrier he left behind continued to operate, trapping everyone in this place.
Until an army set foot in the city, which was almost in ruins.
This army didn’t belong to any faction controlled by the church. Some of them didn’t even have complete armor, looking like a ragtag group. Yet, this ragtag army was serious and orderly, not like the bandit-like image people had in mind, even more disciplined than the regular golden-armored guards.
At the front of the army was a black flag, painted with a red thorny inverted cross.
Such a flag had once spread across the entire continent of Vancia two years ago, almost replacing the golden cross rose flag of the Holy Cathedral.
And for such an army, people had a fitting name—
The Resistance.
However, the Resistance now was clearly not as glorious as it was two years ago. Since their leader Margaret died in Solent City, the Resistance across various regions lost their backbone, gradually becoming scattered and defeated by the church one by one.
The remnants gathered together, wandering around for the past two years.
But now, their allies had gifted them an entire city as a foothold.
Solent City was originally a very secluded small city, surrounded by mountains on three sides, with inconvenient transportation. Here, no matter what heinous acts were committed, it was hard for the outside world to notice, which is why the nobles chose this place as their den of debauchery.
But when such a city fell into the hands of the Resistance, it became a naturally advantageous, easy-to-defend, hard-to-attack fortress.
Karl kicked aside a noble’s corpse blocking the way, stepping onto a relatively intact stone slab, surveying the weathered city.
Most of the buildings in the city had been destroyed, with only some houses on the outskirts partially surviving. Besides that, only the brothel in the distance, protected by a tall barrier, remained.
After the soldiers who went to scout confirmed there were no enemies or monsters inside, Karl led the remaining troops into the city, heading straight to the purple barrier in the east, surrounding it completely.
Inside the barrier was a large group of desperate nobles.
These nobles had been crammed into this small place for a day and a night without food. Accustomed to a life of luxury, they couldn’t endure such torment, each one pounding on the edge of the barrier, crying and shouting, hoping to break through the Holy Son’s barrier with their fists.
Such efforts were naturally futile.
But this seemingly impenetrable barrier vanished the moment Karl approached! The nobles thought they were saved, ready to rush out, only to see the thorny inverted cross flag waving in front of them, scaring them so much they collapsed to the ground, crawling backward in fear.
Karl was initially surprised, then burst into joyous laughter:
“Holy Son, my friend, this is truly a great gift!”
Not only did they receive such a perfect refuge, but they also had so many wealthy nobles left behind.
Who knows how much military funding they could squeeze out of these people?
Just the thought of it made Karl’s mouth almost curl up to the sky.
…
However, with such a huge change, some were happy, while others were naturally worried.
A thousand miles away at the Holy Cathedral, several rows of red-robed bishops knelt trembling before the statue. They had been kneeling for an hour, but until the Archdeacon of Divination calmed down, no matter how sore their bones were, none dared to move an inch.
“Crash—!!”
The scepter was thrown to the ground with force, the obsidian embedded in it shattering, splinters cutting the faces of a few unlucky ones nearby, blood dripping onto the floor.
But those few didn’t dare move, letting the blood flow from their wounds.
“Tsk.” An annoyed voice sounded from above, “Filthy, clean up your dirty mess! If you defile the eyes of the Holy God, prepare to be thrown onto the pyre!”
—The voice was surprisingly youthful.
The powerful Archdeacon of Divination before them appeared to be just a thirteen or fourteen-year-old child.
Yet, despite this, no one knew his true age. From the reign of the previous pope, the pope before that, and even the pope before that, he had been in charge of interpreting holy decrees and conveying divine oracles within the cathedral.
There were even rumors that this archdeacon was a child blessed by the gods, surviving the great calamity a thousand years ago under the protection of the Holy God.
However, these glamorous, half-true statements did nothing to diminish his cruelty. Just in the past month, twelve unfortunates labeled as heretics by him had been sent to the pyre.
Naturally, the red-robed bishops who had accidentally bled didn’t want to add fuel to the pyre, quickly using their sleeves to meticulously clean the floor, not even sparing the cracks.
The archdeacon snorted coldly, calming down a bit after venting his anger. But when he glanced at the torn report on the ground, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of rage.
The report briefly outlined three events in Solent City—
The Holy Son was not dead.
The insect mother was killed.
The demon’s true form had fully awakened.
Each of these alone was enough to give him a headache, and now they had all come together, forming the result he least wanted to see!
Luofadina, his Luofadina…
The archdeacon, in the form of a young boy, almost ground his molars to dust, clenching his fists so tightly that his fingertips drew blood from his palms.
Even after living for so many years and experiencing so much, he had to admit that his emotions were on the verge of collapse. Glancing at the group of useless people kneeling on the ground only made him more irritable.
“Get out! Get far away!”
The red-robed bishops hurriedly scrambled to their feet, not daring to make a sound as they fled.
The entire cathedral was left with only the Archdeacon of Divination.
The boy, who had been raging moments ago, suddenly collapsed to the ground, curling up, kneeling before the pure white statue of the Holy God, sobbing softly:
“God, Luofadina… my Luofadina is gone… she was killed by that damn demon! That guy didn’t even spare her child!”
The boy’s angry sobs echoed in the empty cathedral, and after a while, a low voice followed: “God, our plan has been completely ruined, I don’t know what to do, please have mercy on your child, grant me guidance…”
He curled up in front of the statue, remaining still for a long time, when suddenly a gentle female voice echoed in the cathedral:
“Good child, don’t be sad.”
The boy looked up with tears in his eyes, seeing the statue before him emit a faint purple glow, a faint figure emerging from the statue, appearing holy yet strangely eerie.
“Mother.” The boy wiped his tears, involuntarily calling out.
The deity, referred to as Mother, leaned down, caressing the boy’s head: “It’s just a small setback, no need to be sad. Besides, the demon breaking the seal in hell might not be a bad thing for us.”
“Mother, you mean?”
“What we’ve been trying so hard to obtain, that guy has it ready-made, doesn’t he?”
Seemingly taken aback for a moment, the boy’s eyes widened slightly, a smile quickly spreading across his tear-streaked face:
“Mother, no, God, you’re wise, I understand.”
The deity smiled lovingly: “As for Luofadina… may she find peace in heaven.”