I watched the chapel burn again in the flickering echoes of memory. The ruined pews. The shattered stained glass. The altar where I'd awakened reborn. It had all become mine now—a desecrated sanctuary of corruption.
But I wasn't here to pray.
I was preparing.
My fingers traced the rune-etched obsidian altar where I'd first emerged from death. The markings responded to touch, glowing with a pulse that throbbed in time with my heartbeat. Each symbol whispered potential—power waiting to be awakened.
She would return soon.
The system had confirmed it.
[Target Reappearance Estimated: 72 hours]
[Objective: Prepare the First Ritual of Desire]
[Required: Virgin Relic | Lust Catalyst | Sanctified Blood]
I needed ingredients. Items the system described in sensual detail, as if teasing me with what they would allow once assembled. This ritual wasn't about spells or chants. It was about resonance. Alignment. Sin.
Every tool was an extension of my will. My hunger. My defiance.
I clenched my fists and focused. The system flared.
[Search Parameters Engaged: Nearest Virgin Relic]
[Locating… Match Found.]
[Item: Sacred Veil of Chastity – Temple Ruins, Lower Sanctum Vault]
A veil. Mirana's, once worn during her initiation into sainthood. Blessed, untouched, steeped in sacred energy.
How poetic.
I made my way out of the corrupted chapel, descending into what had once been a hidden vault beneath the temple's western wing. The path twisted downward, carved of ancient stone slick with condensation and dark residue. As I walked, the heat of the system's magic radiated through my skin, not unpleasant—almost arousing.
Each step echoed with purpose.
I was no longer crawling through Heaven's holy halls. I was infiltrating them with the intent to desecrate.
At the bottom of the passage stood a heavy silver door, once sealed by celestial runes. They glowed as I approached, reacting violently to my corrupted presence.
A pulse of demonic energy burst from my palm as I reached out.
The runes cracked.
The door creaked open.
Inside lay treasures once revered: relics of saints, hymnal fragments, preserved drops of divine tears. But there, upon a pedestal of gold and starlight, floated the veil.
Thin. Weightless. So delicate it might tear from a breath—but it radiated power. It smelled faintly of my memories: lilies, moonlight, and the hint of something forbidden.
I took it.
The moment my fingers closed around the cloth, a wave of heat rippled through me.
[Relic Acquired: Sacred Veil of Chastity][System Alert: Virgin Resonance Contact Detected – Mirana Imprint Recognized][Sin Points +5]
The veil pulsed in my hand, soft and cool, but warming the longer I held it.
I pressed it to my face.
A scent clung to it—subtle, yet unmistakable.
Her.
Even after all these years, her purity clung to the fabric like a curse. Or a promise.
My cock stiffened.
I imagined wrapping the veil around her mouth as I thrust between her thighs—her moans muffled by the very relic meant to keep her pure.
[Sin Points +10]
I stuffed it into my satchel and turned to leave—but something else stirred.
From the shadows, a shape emerged.
A vision. No, not quite real—but formed from memory and guilt and something more.
Mirana.
Not flesh, but a projection—a residual echo of her soul tied to the veil.
She looked younger, even more innocent. Her robes weren't yet the high vestments of sainthood, but those of a novice. Her feet were bare. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
She saw me.
And she smiled.
That gentle, heartbreaking smile she used to give the sick, the lost, the damned. The one I fell in love with.
"You were kind," she said softly.
I blinked. The image didn't vanish.
"You held my hand when no one else would. You protected the children from the storm. You sang to the dying even when your own voice bled."
She stepped closer, phantom-light gliding across the floor.
"Why did you fall, Kael?"
I swallowed.
"Because kindness wasn't enough."
She tilted her head.
"Then what do you want now?"
I stepped toward her.
"To hear that same voice crying my name," I said. "But not in prayer."
She looked almost sad.
Then she vanished.
The room fell silent.
The veil no longer pulsed.
Only my breath remained—hot, shallow, laced with lust.
I returned to the surface with the veil tucked safely into a pouch bound to my belt. The chapel's air felt heavier now, pregnant with potential.
The altar called to me.
I placed the veil atop it.
It shimmered, reacted, disintegrated into soft tendrils of glowing silk that curled around the stone and etched themselves into the surface like a lover's touch.
[Relic Consumed: Sacred Veil of Chastity]
[Ritual Preparation 33% Complete]
I needed the other two ingredients.
[Next Required: Lust Catalyst]
The system directed me east, toward the old scriptorium—once a place of prayer and penance. Now it had become twisted by my presence.
I descended again, the corridors lit only by the blood-red runes that followed me. Each time I thought of Mirana's thighs, the walls responded. Whispers of desire echoed faintly in the corners of my hearing.
The Lust Catalyst was no longer a relic in a case. The system revealed it had taken root inside the body of a corrupted prayer statue—one of the ancient guardians sculpted in her image.
I stepped into the shattered hall.
And saw it.
A statue of Saint Mirana, nude, her legs crossed demurely, arms folded over her breasts. Eyes carved of sapphire.
The statue trembled.
Cracks formed across the stone. Runes bled from beneath the surface.
The mouth opened—and moaned.
My pulse spiked.
A form emerged—not quite solid. A construct. A manifestation of twisted devotion.
It looked like her.
It wanted me.
I let it approach.
It fell to its knees before me, mouth open, lips parting in a silent plea.
It didn't speak.
But I knew what it needed.
I grabbed its head, fisting the stone hair like a handle. Its mouth was warm—wet—impossibly soft for something not made of flesh.
The system flared.
[Sin Points +25]
[Catalyst Accepting Lust Offering – Continue to Completion]
I didn't hesitate.
The ritual demanded sin. And I was willing to give it.
I thrust into the construct's mouth.
Heat surged through my spine as its tongue, impossibly soft and wet, wrapped around me like a silken spiral. It moved with an uncanny precision—not robotic, not practiced, but born of instinct, of blind devotion given form.
She moaned.
A sound exactly like Mirana's voice.
My hips snapped forward, the weight of lust overpowering any remaining caution. The construct gagged and sucked greedily, her stone hands gripping my thighs with unnatural strength. She didn't resist. She worshipped.
This wasn't just release.
This was a ritual.
The system pulsed.
[Lust Catalyst Accepting… 42%… 56%… 71%…]
My fingers tangled into her carved silver hair. The motion of her mouth was obscene—nearly spiritual. I could feel the Sin Points accumulating with each thrust, each sound, each wet, rhythmic pulse of her lips sliding down my length.
And then I spoke her name.
"Mirana."
The construct moaned louder.
[Sin Points +15]
[Target Reaction Detected – Dream Resonance Active]
I saw her face—real this time. Not the stone. Not a simulation.
She was dreaming again.
Her mouth mirrored the moan. Her thighs clenched under silken sheets in some far-off heavenly chamber. She was writhing in sleep, hips rocking softly, eyes fluttering.
Her body was responding to what I was doing.
Even from across realms.
I growled low, thrusting deeper, harder, until the heat inside me burned into lightning. The altar behind the statue cracked. Runes exploded in a ring of violet and crimson. My climax surged forward, thick and hot, and I held the construct's head down as I spilled into it.
It swallowed.
Every drop.
[Catalyst Saturated]
[Lust Catalyst Acquired – Converted to Fluid Form]
The construct shuddered—then melted into a pool of glowing nectar that seeped into the floor, slithering along glowing lines toward the central ritual chamber.
I staggered back, breathless, cock slick and twitching with residual heat.
The air pulsed with dark delight.
I had fucked a statue into ascension.
And Mirana had felt every echo.
I grinned.
[Ritual Preparation 66% Complete]
The final ingredient awaited: Sanctified Blood.
The system gave me two options.
One: steal it from a consecrated reliquary.
Two: draw it directly from a living virgin blessed by Heaven.
I didn't hesitate.
I chose her.
That night, the system opened the gate again.
[Dreamscape Penetration Engaged]
[Target: Saint Mirana | Virgin Blood – Active in Circulation]
[Environment: Moonlight Chamber | Defense Weakening]
She was in a garden this time, wrapped in a thin nightdress, barefoot on the silver grass. The sky above her was soft and endless. Her eyes were half-lidded, distant.
She knew it was a dream.
And yet… she stayed.
When I appeared behind her, she didn't flinch.
"You came again," she whispered.
"I always will."
She turned slowly to face me. Her lips trembled.
"I don't know what's happening to me. I wake up… wet. Shaking. My sisters hear me moaning in my sleep."
Her confession made my cock twitch.
"I dream of you… inside me," she whispered, voice cracking. "Your voice. Your hands. Your mouth on my throat. I hate you, but I can't stop."
"Because it's real."
"Is it?" she asked, voice breaking. "Or am I losing myself?"
"You're finding what they buried."
I stepped toward her and she didn't move away.
"Touch me," she said, so quietly it was almost lost to the wind.
My fingers brushed her cheek.
She gasped.
I pulled her close—slowly, carefully. Our lips met, not in violence, not yet, but in soft, unholy reverence. Her body melted into mine. Her breath shivered down my throat. Her thighs brushed against my hardness, and she whimpered.
"You feel it too," I said.
She nodded, eyes glassy.
I let my hand trail downward—over the curve of her hip, along the outside of her thigh, then beneath the hem of her nightdress. The skin was hot. Wet. Pulsing.
She spread her legs slightly.
And I found her slit—bare, untouched, soaked.
Her knees buckled.
My fingers moved with slow, firm strokes, coating themselves in her desire. Her voice caught, then spilled into a strangled moan.
Her halo flickered.
"Please," she whimpered. "Don't stop."
"Tell me what you want."
"I want… to fall."
The dream shattered with a divine scream from above.
But it was too late.
[Virgin Fluid Sampled | Sanctified Blood Contained in Emissions]
[Ritual Preparation 100% Complete]
I awoke hard and throbbing. The chapel was trembling with energy.
The altar glowed red.
[Ritual of Desire: INITIATE]
I poured the sacred fluids over the etched surface—the memory of her soaked dream-pussy still hot on my hand. The veil, now part of the stone. The Lust Catalyst. Her holy blood.
The altar drank it all.
A surge of dark light exploded upward, burning symbols into the air. The room howled with desire, as if every wall was screaming to be touched.
Then a projection formed.
Mirana.
Her real-time reflection.
She stood in her private chambers, panting, her nightdress stuck to her thighs with sweat and slick. She looked around wildly.
She felt it.
A tether between us.
I could reach through the link now.
Soon, I could pull her.
[Sin Points: 95]
[Target Status: Defenseless in Dream Cycle | First Physical Infiltration Unlocked]
[New Ability Gained: Astral Possession Lv.1]Temporarily control elements of target's dream-body while she sleeps. Sustained contact strengthens permanent corruption.
That night, I entered again.
This time, she was already moaning when I arrived.
Her dream-body lay twisted in sheets of moonlight, her legs spread, her nipples hard beneath the thin slip of her dress. She whispered my name like a psalm.
I climbed into her bed.
She opened her eyes.
And didn't protest.
I ran my hands over her body—down her chest, across her belly, between her thighs. She trembled with each stroke.
"You're inside me again," she whispered.
"Yes."
"I missed you."
I kissed her neck. Her pulse raced. Her hips lifted into mine.
I rubbed against her slick lips—slow, teasing, never entering. She sobbed.
"Please."
"You're still a virgin," I murmured. "Even here."
She nodded.
"But not for long."
Her body arched, desperate, pure.
And I thrust just enough to feel her walls twitch.
Not enough to break.
Not yet.
She screamed into my mouth.
[Astral Penetration: Partial]
[Target Virginity Intact | System Satisfaction: HIGH]
[Purity Threshold Dropped to 62%]
When I awoke, I felt her still clinging to my thoughts like a scent.
She was weakening. Craving. Breaking.
And I hadn't even fully taken her yet.
But I would.
And the next time I entered her dreams…
There would be nothing left to stop me.