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Snap!
The sharp, elastic crack of the torn bra straps echoed right behind Alex's shoulder blades.
The thin black sports bra, already stretched far beyond its limits by his sudden Phase Three evolution, completely gave way under one of the sharp claws of the shadow wraiths.
The sudden release of pressure was instantaneous; without the tight band compressing his chest, his D-cup breasts spilled completely free beneath his thin cotton shirt.
The sudden downward drop of that soft, heavy weight pulled hard against his ribcage, making his breath turn sharp.
"Shit!!" Alex gasped, his voice coming out in a high, breathy cry that sounded humiliatingly feminine.
He didn't even have a fraction of a second to adjust.
Whoosh!
Another two armored skeletons lunged from the mist, swinging rusted broadswords in sharp arcs.
Relying on his Level 3 Serpentine Musculature, Alex dropped low, his hips twisting fluidly as he pivoted on the ball of his foot to slip beneath the whistling blades.
Clang!
With a crisp flick of his wrist, his Blackiron longsword cut upward.
A freezing, silvery-grey crescent shadow of Mercurial Frost Sword Art erupted from the blade, severing the two skeletons at the waist and shattering their ribcages into frost dust.
Flap! Bounce!
Yet, as he landed, the sheer kinetic momentum of his rapid pivot and leap made his unrestrained chest violently bounce and jiggle beneath his wet shirt.
The dense, creamy mounds swayed wildly, their heavy, soft flesh colliding with his upper arms before slapping back against his chest.
With every single swing, every leap, and every defensive action, the rough, wet cotton of his shirt dragged directly across his swollen, dark pink areolas.
"Ah... nngh... fuck!" Alex groaned through gritted teeth, his back arching slightly as an electric jolt of pure pleasure shot straight from his rock-hard nipples down to his lower abdomen as they were rubbed raw by the friction of the moving fabric.
Every breath sent waves of liquid heat pooling low between his thighs.
Worse, he realized that the attacks coming from the surrounding wraiths had completely changed in nature.
The Shadow Wraiths were no longer trying to pierce his vital organs.
Their numbers increased, their screeching frequency doubling as over a dozen ghostly figures swarmed him from every angle in the surrounding mist.
Yet, the force behind their strikes was just enough to shred fabric without slicing through his Scaled Dermis.
Rrrrip!
A claw grazed his left side, tearing a long strip from his shirt.
The cool, rotting air of the Ghost Domain kissed his bare ribs, immediately exposing the smooth, pale curve of his underboob.
Rrip! Tear!
Another phantom shadow darted past his legs.
The razor-thin spectral nails sliced cleanly through the outer seams of his blue leggings, leaving wide, claw-shaped openings along the outer curves of his hips and thighs.
Translucent shreds of cloth fluttered away into the fog, exposing large patches of his flawless, jade-white skin to the cold air.
"Get the fuck away from me!" Alex cursed loudly, spinning his blade in a frantic attempt to create mana ripples with sharp sword energy to cleave three approaching ghouls in half.
His movements were fast, lethal, and precise, but beneath his fierce combat stance, a deep, burning wave of shame rushed up his neck, turning his pale cheeks a bright, humiliated crimson.
Around the edges of the crumbling alleyway, hundreds of hollow-eyed wraiths, groaning ghouls, and floating banshees hovered in the air.
Their glowing eyes were staring greedily at his tearing clothes, ogling the soft, pale flesh being progressively unveiled with every passing second.
Banshees let out shrill, echoing giggles that vibrated against his eardrums.
"Look at her... look at our Lord's little bride..."
"Such soft, creamy skin... such ripe, heavy mounds..."
"Dance more, pretty bride! Let us strip you bare!"
Hearing those mocking, perverted jeers directed at him as if he were nothing more than a helpless, stripping maiden made Alex's blood boil in fury.
'I'm a man! I'm a fucking guy!' he screamed in his mind.
Yet, his traitorous body refused to obey his masculine ego.
Whenever a cold breeze blew across his exposed waist or brushed against the bare curve of his bouncing breasts, his skin broke out in delicate goosebumps.
Without much choice, he completely activated his Level 3 Scaled Dermis to cover his exposed skin.
Shhhk…. Visibly, a shimmering layer of fine, crystalline silver-white scales rippled across his flesh, covering up the sensitive skin that had been laid bare by the shredded cloth.
Whenever there was a new cut exposing his skin, new scales immediately grew over that area to cover the exposed skin.
However, as he fought more and more, while also struggling desperately to keep the rest of his clothes from getting ripped away, his mana circuits began to throb with a dull, exhausting ache.
[ System Alert: Domain Law — Suppression of Mortal Vitality (Active) ]
[ Host Stamina: 48% (Decreasing steadily). ]
[ Mana Circuit Output: Suppressed by 30%. ]
Not to mention, under the constant soul pressure of a half-step A-Rank Wraith Lord and the continuous, high-speed exertion of fighting off hundreds of undead, Alex's stamina was draining at an alarming pace.
His sword strikes, though still deadly, grew heavier and slower.
Whoosh!!!
Just then, as his concentration wavered, a thick, suffocating cloud of sweet pheromones poured from his sweating pores, saturating the icy mist of the domain like an undiluted aphrodisiac poison.
The moment that sweet scent hit the undead horde, the lesser ghosts went completely wild.
"Sniff... Ahhh! What a smell!"
"Pure Yin! The bride is overflowing with virgin Yin essence!"
A dense group of Low-level spectral wisps swarmed close to his body without any defense, their freezing, semi-intangible fingers grazing against the bare patches of skin on his thighs, his cinched waist, and his exposed back.
Brush... Stroke...
"Ahn...!" A high-pitched, breathy moan escaped Alex's lips before he could bite his tongue.
The freezing, ethereal touch against his overheated, hypersensitive flesh, even under the cover of his Scaled Dermis, sent maddening, electric shivers directly down his spine.
Ghostly hands brushed across the swell of his hips, while multiple spectral fingers lightly traced the exposed underside of his heavy, swaying breasts.
Every brush sent a shocking wave of phantom pleasure straight to his mind.
Between his legs, the friction was turning into absolute torture.
The torn, shredded fabric of his blue leggings rubbed constantly against his groin with every small or large sword move.
His hypersensitive dick was also completely engorged, pulsing with helpless arousal against the wet cloth.
And directly behind it, his newly formed pussy slit twitched and throbbed, leaking a steady stream of sweet, clear nectar that slickened his inner thighs, gluing his underwear to his bare skin with shameful, squelching wetness.
Schlick...
"Fuck... no... get off me!" Alex cried softly in sensory overload, swinging his longsword horizontally to blast nearby wraiths away with a shockwave of mana.
His vision filled with wet tears of overstimulation and intense humiliation.
He was essentially fighting a battle half-naked, leaking arousal from both of his organs while being fondled and stripped by a horde of perverted corpses.
"Hehehehe..." Suddenly, the harsh, grating laugh of the Ashen-Bone Wraith Lord sounded from the thick fog.
The sound resonated from every corner at once, suffocating and heavy with a true Master Rank Professional pressure.
"Why struggle so desperately, my little bride?" the Wraith Lord's voice echoed in the dark, with a mocking tone that reverberated inside Alex's skull.
"Look at yourself. Look at those ripe, heavy breasts spilling out of your rags... Look at how your soft thighs tremble as my servants caress your skin."
The phantom presence of the Evil Spirit seemed to loom directly over Alex's shoulder, its icy breath ghosting across his exposed collarbone.
"Every strike you make only tears away another piece of your clothes. It will only become more and more humiliating for you..."
"Unless you drop that blade, stop fighting, and willingly crawl to my chambers to become my Ghost Bride... That is the only choice you have left."
The laughter grew louder, accompanied by the chorus of hundreds of specters.
"Or perhaps you prefer to continue being publicly stripped and humiliated right here?"
"Right in front of every wandering ghost and every human trapped in my domain... until your legs give out and you submit to me on your knees anyway!"
"I'd rather cut my own throat than let a rotting bag of bones like you touch me!" Alex screamed back, his voice slightly shaking with rage and desperate defiance.