The throne room reeked of heat, sex, and victory.
Allen slouched lazily in the pulsing, moaning seat of flesh beneath him—his cock still hard, streaked with drying cum and milky demon cream. Around him, the succubi were in a daze, sprawled across the floor like used toys, their bellies round and twitching, faces flushed in afterglow worship. The Demon Queen lay at his feet, moaning softly every time her womb throbbed with life. Her glowing skin shimmered, her body visibly pregnant already with the spawn of her conqueror.
But the silence didn't last.
A scream echoed from the massive obsidian gates—high-pitched, terrified, and strangely... holy.
Allen's eyes twitched toward the noise as the doors creaked open, pushed not by claws or demon hands, but by armored knights clad in ivory and gold. A dozen priests and inquisitors poured into the corrupted chamber, each gripping blessed weapons, their faces pale with shock at the depravity they'd walked into.
