It was a relief to have no mood for it.
Celia squeezed her eyes shut tightly. The tactile sensation of a man's finger pads rubbing against one of her ears persisted, leaving it red and abused. In the next instant, her other ear—previously pinned down—was pulled free and subjected to the same repeated torment…
She didn't understand why Ryan was doing this. She'd lived for so long, yet never seen any of her clansmen take an interest in ears; Ryan was the first. He'd just said he was going to take a bath, but this man had lingered here for ages. His two restless hands roamed over her body, as if appraising some rare treasure. Though, perhaps to the outside world, an elf like herself was something rare.
"Elven ears are truly fascinating," he said.
"To be honest, while you were unconscious, I snuck in and touched them many times. The texture really is quite nice."
"I-is that true…?" Celia's voice was soft and incredibly meek.
She huddled into a tight ball, her cheeks burning hot. The fingertips resting on the egg trembled slightly, and after this relentless abuse, her ears felt like they were about to… She was overwhelmed with shame at the thought of him sneaking touches while she slept. What else might he have done while she was asleep…
He tormented her ears for a while longer, until Celia felt almost tamed.
Finally, he spoke. "Alright, keep incubating slowly. I'm going to bathe—then I'll come back to savor you properly."
With that, Ryan withdrew his perpetually restless hand. The bed lightened as he stood up and headed toward the hallway leading to the living room.
Celia had just let out a sigh of relief when she peeked her head out cautiously—only to see that tall, graceful figure striding back step by step. His expression unchanged, he let out a long sigh and said in a deep voice, "Almost forgot. You're quite dirty too. I remember you've been here for three days now—and you haven't taken a single bath in all that time, have you?"
"Why not come bathe with me?"
"No, no!" Celia hurriedly refused. "I'll wash alone later!"
But her refusal fell on deaf ears. The man's steps quickened, and in an instant, he was in front of her. One hand slipped under her waist, the other gripping her ankle—and he lifted her into a princess carry.
Celia's breath caught in her throat. Her arms instinctively moved to push against his chest, but her fingertips met only hard, defined muscles. Her feeble strength against him was like tapping a solid boulder.
"What do you know about washing?" Ryan's voice rose, and he questioned her earnestly. "What if you don't clean yourself properly, and provide unhealthy nutrients to the child? How would you take responsibility? Besides, I can't wait that long."
"Let me go…"
Celia couldn't make out his words clearly. She began to beg softly, her arms growing weaker by the second. She strained with all her might—even the strength of a suckling baby—but still couldn't budge him. Helpless, she lowered her eyes and stared at her toes, dangling in mid-air. A flood of complaints welled up inside her. This body was absurdly weak; every time Ryan turned forceful, she had no room to resist, forced to let him do as he pleased.
Resentment bubbled in Celia's chest. She mustered all her strength to struggle, her arms tensing tighter.
"You want to be spanked?" Ryan seemed to lose his temper. He snapped the words, and the hand around her waist tightened further—bringing a suffocating pressure, like the coil of a python.
Celia was terrified instantly. The little courage she'd mustered vanished in a flash. Like a boiled rabbit, she went limp in his arms—completely subdued.
After that, every inch of her body swayed with his steps. Celia was wronged into tears, feeling utterly stifled. She'd just grown accustomed to being in a girl's body, and now she was being treated like this… and not for the first time.
But then she thought: as a wife, maybe this wasn't so unusual. After all, he was her husband. If only he were gentler next time, she might even accept it.
The jostling stopped suddenly. Celia opened her tear-blurred eyes in confusion, only to see a bright, transparent door ahead, with hot steam billowing out from inside. They'd reached the bathroom.
Three hours later…
In reality, they'd only spent an hour in the bathroom. The room was lit by a single candle, casting dim light. The man sat on the bed; the girl, utterly exhausted, lay beside him with heavy eyelids, sound asleep. The egg had been taken to the incubation chamber—where the consumption of natural magic was lower, making it more suitable for the baby's development. A large, soft blanket covered their bare bodies.
At that moment, Ryan couldn't contain his smile as he stared at the crystal ball in his palm, which continuously emitted green, glowing dust. His left hand brushed lightly, almost imperceptibly, over her delicate, soft cheek—occasionally, she would nuzzle back gently.
Last time, he'd merely channeled power casually, yet it had produced a fourth-rank high-level offspring. This time, however, it was entirely different. Ryan had poured every ounce of his strength into condensing all his energy before infusing it—and even he felt somewhat drained. So drained, in fact, that if a third-rank human attacked him now, he wouldn't have the strength to fight back.
And so—this child would likely break through to the sixth rank, surpassing even himself!
Once an army of such offspring was raised, they would return to crush the demons. Would they not be invincible?
"Hahaha…" A low laugh rumbled in Ryan's throat, echoing through the empty room—filled with the air of inevitable conquest.
"Lord Ryan?" Celia found her husband utterly perplexing. Laughing suddenly like that… he looked like a fool.
"Don't mind it," he said. "Just sleep well."