I drew a deep breath, my gaze fixed intently upon the dark golden dragon-skin scroll lying on the stone table, emanating an ominous allure. Beside it lay the wide-sleeved robe left by Mother Celia, specifically for my wearing.
The robe was weighted down by a bag of heavy gold and silver coins.
I dressed, carefully concealing the scroll and money pouch close to my body, then approached the stone bed where Lila lay trembling, her abdomen slightly swollen.
"Lila, it's time to go."
I lifted her with what I hoped was a gentle tone and soft movements.
Lila's body stiffened noticeably, her sapphire eyes brimming with incredulous shock.
This sudden tenderness seemed to fluster her. Gazing at the girl in my arms, I inexplicably recalled the taste of Celia's virginity and her lewd whispers, causing my cock to twitch once more.
"M-Master?" Her voice was a barely audible whisper, tinged with fear and a faint, almost imperceptible… desire.
"I… I'm sorry…" She suddenly buried her face against my chest, her voice trembling with tears and a soft, pleading tone.
"It… it was me who cried out… so… so the Holy Mother didn't take my virginity… I… I'm willing… to let my womb… hold your… seed… again… Please… don't be angry…"
I looked down at her pale, fragile face, feeling her body tremble slightly with fear and perhaps anticipation. Lila's tender womb was already filled with my seed; forcing more inside might truly tear her body apart. Though she was hailed as a candidate for future Holy Mother, she was still only a girl of sixteen or seventeen.
With the sky outside gradually brightening, I knew time was short. We must press on.
"It's unnecessary." I tugged at the corner of my mouth, a grimace that barely qualified as a smile.
"Fill it again and your tender little womb will burst."
Outside, the sky was turning pale. The edges of the deep blue canopy were already tinged with the first light of dawn. I pulled my hood over my head, concealing my conspicuous green skin and pointed ears and clutched Lila as I hurried towards a nearby carriage hire point.
The driver was a bleary-eyed old man. Spotting the vaguely menacing outline beneath my hood and the faintly breathing beauty in my arms, a flicker of wariness and fear crossed his eyes. Yet, faced with several heavy silver coins, he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Carefully settling Lila into the straw-lined carriage, I watched her curl up in the corner. A wave of human compassion suddenly washed over me and I kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Sleep now. The road ahead is long."
Lila's ears flushed crimson. She seemed to want to say something, but ultimately closed her eyes obediently, her long lashes fluttering faintly as if lost in thought.
I drew a scroll from my robes and unrolled it with a rustle.
Before my eyes appeared five names written in a dark crimson ink, vivid as fresh blood.
Beneath each name lay lifelike magical portraits, alongside descriptions of their weaknesses and personal details.
First: Eleanor, Princess of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.
Second: Illaia, Queen of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.
Third: Leona, Grand Master of the Knights of the Temple.
Fourth: Azshara, Moonlight Queen of the Elven Kingdom.
Fifth: Vivian, Archmage of the Human Race.
"Hiss…"
Merely reading these names, beholding their noble forms, studying their fatal weaknesses, the savage, carnal flames of my goblin nature erupted within me!
That colossal member between my legs surged as if infused with molten lava, leaping violently and swelling to terrifying thickness and rigidity. Veins knotted like twisted ropes, while viscous glandular fluid oozed from the glans, dripping onto the floor.
My fingers trembled with excitement. Suppressing the goblin's bestial lust, I scrutinised the scroll's final page with utmost focus.
Then, my breath ceased entirely.
The name at the top of the page seared my eyes…
Celia, Holy Mother of the Cathedral of the Holy Light, Mother of the Demon King, the ultimate prize of the Demon King's son.
No images. Only lines of text written in dark gold ink filled the scroll, elegant yet sharp, exuding an indescribable allure.
I could almost hear Mother Celia's voice holy yet tinged with a hint of allure echoing in my ear.
"My son… Glak…"
"That you have read these words proves your resolve to embark upon that path… the path of conquest that brings comfort to your mother."
"Your mother, Celia… heh… those ignorant worshippers call me the Holy Mother, viewing me as the earthly embodiment of the Holy Light… what a laughable and pitiful faith."
"But for you, my son… my master… I need not pretend."
"Come, let Mother tell you… the secret you most desire to know…"
At this point, Mother's handwriting seemed to grow lighter and more nimble.
"My sanctuary… the place that bore you…"
"It was blessed by the Holy Light, containing the purest source of life. It needs you… it needs your seed of utter darkness, your supremely potent essence to activate it… to fill it… to nurture your true divine offspring!"
I noticed Celia Mum had written the words "seed of essence" with particular force, as if driven by desire.
"As for that maiden membrane… My son, you've verified it yourself, haven't you?" The handwriting carried a mischievous smile.
"The gift of the Holy Light? Ha… Its very purpose is for you… to pierce it… time and again! Each tear's agony and the itch of regeneration… remind me who I am… to whom I belong!"
"Which part of my body… is most sensitive? My son, have you… not yet discovered it?"
"But… Mother can remind you once more… The sacred mark at the nape of my neck, when brushed by your breath, feels like an electric shock… The hollow of my waist, a gentle press there makes Mother's whole body go limp… And… that deepest spot… Only yours… can reach it… can make me… utterly collapse and scream…"
The handwriting here grew somewhat disordered. I could almost see Celia Mother trembling slightly as she wrote.
"What do I crave? Glak… my master…"
"I crave… to be conquered by absolute power! Crushed! To have every pretence of sanctity torn asunder! And that power… can only be yours! My son! Watching you grow, watching you become darker than the abyss, brighter than the stars… This twisted pride and… the shameful pleasure of being conquered by my own creation… is a poison no holy light can rival!"
"Do you know when Mummy is most vulnerable… or rather, most desirable?" I thought I heard a hint of cunning in Mummy's tone.
"Remember the night of the new moon… when the moonlight is faintest, the tides within me surge… the Holy Light's defences part like a woman in heat… slightly open… inside… wet… and itchy… craving to be… ❤ filled…"
At this sentence, Mother Celia drew an exceedingly seductive heart.
"My son, to spur you on… and to… satisfy a little personal whim of Mummy's…"
"Whenever you successfully conquer a noble female beast from the list, bring her utterly to heel beneath your feet… bring her proof of submission to me…"
"…Mummy shall grant you a… special reward."