The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, orange shadows across the village square.
"Lady Julienne," I said, bowing slightly. "I would like to visit the slums to check on Chip, I want to discuss something to him"
Julienne blinked, pulling her eyes away from my chest. She was still dazed from the walk, her mind warring between the ruin of her village and the lust I had ignited in her veins. Her corruption was loosening, leaving her vulnerable and spacey.
"Yes..." she murmured, waving a hand carelessly. "Take the carriage. Gaston will drive you."
Kara suddenly spoke. "If I may be excused tonight, My Lady," she said with a bow, "I would like to accompany the priest. I wish to provide some funds to my son; I forgot to give it to him when we were at the villa."
Julienne, looking tired, replied, "I understand, Kara. Rose will cook tonight. However, I will be needing you in the morning, as we have a guest."
I understand Kara replied
While i look and analyze their exchange
"I will escort the Mistress back to the villa in the wagon," Pearl interjected smoothly. She gave me a knowing smile. My little Succubus knows exactly what business I have for Chip. She ushered the confused Julienne and the satisfied Sofia toward the open wagon.
I turned to Kara. "Shall we?"
Kara nodded, her mature frame trembling slightly. "Yes, your excellence ."
The carriage was a tight, enclosed box of velvet and wood. As Gaston whipped the horses into motion and speed, the cabin rocked rhythmically, sealing us in a private world of shadows and swaying curtains.
We were alone.
"Priest-sama..." Kara started, sitting across from me, her knees brushing mine. "Why visit Chip now? Is something wrong?"
I leaned back, spreading my legs to dominate the limited space. The carriage was small, but my presence made it feel microscopic.
"On the contrary, Kara," I countered, my voice smooth. "When I healed him, the exchange wasn't just flesh for mana. In exchange for a leg, he was given... responsibility."
Kara's breath hitched. She whispered the words as if they were fragile glass. "A... Responsibility?"
"Yes," I confirmed, watching the hope bloom in her eyes. "I believe the signs will start to show today. As he is becoming a God Knight for Lunaria."
It was a beautiful lie, rooted in a terrifying truth.
She knew my power wasn't normal. If Sofia or Julienne had told her anything, they would know that regeneration usually takes time—weeks of painful knitting. But for Chip? He had grown a leg in seconds. To a mother from the slums, that wasn't just magic; it was divine intervention. Hearing her crippled son instantly and then could be a God Knight was like hearing he had been crowned King.
"A God Knight..." she wept, tears spilling over her cheeks. "My Chip?"
"Yes. I know deep inside Chip, there is something more."
I looked out the window, letting my gaze drift.
God Knight.
It was a real ability. High-ranking Priests could bestow a portion of their deity's power into a vessel, creating a champion. Only a select few could do this. As the High Priest of Lunaria, I had done it before.
Flash.
For a split second, eight figures wrapped in bioluminescent armor flashed in my mind. The Kraken. The eight champions I had left behind to protect the Ocean World. They were monsters of war if used for war, capable of leveling cities. Comparing Chip to them was a joke—but a useful one.
I turned my gaze back to Kara. I dropped the holy façade and let the Predator surface.
"So," I asked, my voice dropping to a low, vibrating rumble. "What business do you have in the slums, really? You could have waited at the Villa or tomorrow and I don't hear any gold? Dancing in your pocket."
Kara didn't answer with words. She didn't need to. The gratitude was there, yes—but the heat radiating from her body was stronger. It filled the carriage with the scent of musk and arousal.
She slid off the bench.
In the cramped space, she knelt between my legs. The carriage floor was hard, but she didn't seem to care. Her large, calloused hands—hands that had scrubbed floors and fought off beggars—rested gently on my thighs.
"I am here to thank you..." she whispered, her voice husky, her eyes fixed on the bulge in my robes. "...to thank you properly."
She didn't wait for permission. She buried her face in my lap.
Zip.
My robes parted.
My manhood sprang free—heavy, dark, and pulsing with mana. Kara reached out, clutching it with a trembling reverence, staring at it like a child who had just been handed a priceless treasure. One hand wasn't nearly enough to contain the girth; her calloused fingers could barely wrap around the shaft.
She leaned in, letting her hot, ragged breath ghost over the sensitive tip, inhaling the scent of her own salvation. Then, without thinking twice—
"Mmph!"
She took me in.
Kara wasn't gentle like Pearl, nor was she timid like Julienne. She was a mother. She was a woman who had known hardship, a woman who knew she had to devour every scrap of sustenance she was given. Her mouth was hot, wet, and incredibly strong.
Slurp. Gawk. Gawk.
She attacked it with a ravenous hunger. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, creating a vacuum-tight seal that threatened to pull the soul right out of me.
The carriage hit a pothole.
Bump.
"Ughk!"
Kara gagged as I went deeper, hitting the back of her throat. But she didn't pull back. She didn't stop. She hummed—a deep, guttural vibration against my length that sent shivers straight to my spine.
"Gratitude, hmm?" I whispered, looking down at her.
I reached out.
My fingers twisted into her thick orange hair, yanking it back to keep the messy strands from interfering with the wet work of her mouth.
But my other limbs were restless.
Slither. Squish.
While my hand held her head in place, my tentacles crept up from the shadows of my robes. They coiled around her chest, finding their target instantly. Through the strained fabric of her maid uniform, I grabbed her heavy, milk-maker breasts. I didn't squeeze gently; I kneaded the soft flesh like dough, punishing them as she sucked.
"Nnnngh!" she moaned around my cock, her hips bucking involuntarily.
"You say it's thanks," I murmured, "but your nipples are hard enough to cut glass, Kara."
Slither.
I didn't stop there. From beneath my robes, two slender tentacles emerged. They bypassed her waist, snaking under her skirt, sliding up her thick, motherly thighs.
They found her heat.
"Mmmph!!"
Her eyes went wide as the slick appendages shoved her panties aside and found her soaking wet clitoris. She was dripping—absolutely flooded.
Flick. Rub. Circle.
The tentacles played with her, teasing her swollen nub mercilessly while her mouth worked overtime on my cock. But teasing wasn't enough.
Squelch.
I shoved one of the thick tentacles deep inside her wet pussy, filling the void. I didn't even have to move it much myself; the carriage did the work for me. Every rut and pothole we hit shoved the tentacle deeper, roughly battering her cervix. She didn't pull away; she ground her hips against it, shaking and moaning into my lap, desperate for the friction.
She is addicted, I realized, watching the top of her orange head bob up and down with frantic energy. The mana I pumped into her during our first session... her body craves it. She isn't here to check on her son. She's here for a fix.
We rode like that for twenty minutes—the rhythmic slurp-slurp-slurp of her mouth mixing with the wet squelch of the tentacle and the clatter of horse hooves, hidden from the world by velvet curtains.
"I'm close," I warned, grabbing her hair.
Kara didn't slow down. She sped up. She wanted it. She needed the recharge.
Twitch.
"Take it."
SPLURT.
I erupted.
"Gulp!"
She swallowed. She didn't spill a drop. She drank the thick, mana-rich seed as if it were the elixir of life itself, her throat working convulsively to take every pulse.
Gulp. Ahhh.
She pulled back, a string of saliva and seed connecting her lips to me. Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed over with a narcotic haze.
"Thank you... Priest-sama," she panted, her tongue darting out to lick her swollen lips clean.
I reached out, my thumb roughly wiping a stray drop of white from her chin.
"You're welcome, Kara," I said, my voice cooling instantly as I adjusted my robes. "Now... fix your uniform. We have a 'God Knight' to visit."
She scrambled to obey, pulling her skirt down and smoothing the wrinkles, but I knew the truth. Deep beneath that ruffled maid dress, she was aching. Despite the tentacles and the rough play, I had been careful. I had edged her relentlessly, but I hadn't let her finish. She was dripping wet, throbbing, and completely, torturously unsatisfied.