Chapter 285: The Sadistic and Masochistic Goddess

The night was pitch black. A chilling wind roamed like a ghost through the castle, and the full moon hung high, casting an icy silver glow over the land.

Franz jolted awake in his bedroom, his breath quick and shallow. He glanced out the window and saw that the entire Graham Empire was shrouded in a sinister pink light. Those flows of light resembled a venomous tide, corroding everything in their path. His heart tightened violently, and his pupils shrank to thin slits as he murmured, "What's happening?! Is Fred attacking the empire?"

He hurriedly straightened his attire and rushed toward the throne hall. There, the Emperor stood like an immovable rock, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered generals as he issued precise orders with a cold, deep voice.

"Father, this—" Franz panted as he spoke.

The Emperor's voice was dark and low. "It's the god of Sykpia."

Franz felt his scalp tingle, and a cold sweat instantly soaked his back. The word "god" was not one to be spoken lightly—it signified a being beyond human comprehension, a calamity that even Fred might not be able to overcome.

He gritted his teeth, his heart burning with rage and resentment. Why did such a disaster have to strike right after Fred left?! Fred had always fought on the front lines, shielding him from countless troubles. But now, with Fred gone, Franz had no choice but to face it himself.

He looked at his father's dark expression and knew that the empire was already on the brink of ruin. If he cowered within the castle any longer, he would become the target of ridicule and scorn. So, before the Emperor could speak, Franz stepped forward and said resolutely, "Father, I'm going too."

The Emperor stared at him in silence for a moment before finally nodding. "Be careful."

A warmth spread through Franz's heart, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Father still cares about me, after all…

Without further hesitation, he leapt through the window, landed lightly on the roof, and shot toward the tower where the pink light was concentrated.

The night wind howled around him as he crossed the rooftops, and when he finally reached the tower's peak, he saw the culprit behind it all—

A woman stood there, slowly lowering a pink bow, her indifferent gaze fixed on him. Franz's breath hitched.

Her beauty was both classical and seductive, like a blooming poppy. Her long black hair was styled into an elegant updo, with a few loose strands falling over her cheeks, glinting faintly under the moonlight. Her skin was flawless, smooth as the finest white jade. Her moist lips were tinged with a soft red, curving into a subtle, soul-stirring smile.

She wore a form-fitting white cheongsam that traced the curves of her body with dangerous precision. The sleeveless design revealed her slender, pale arms. The elegant slits on either side of the dress exposed her long, toned legs, and every step she took seemed to stir the air itself, enticing the gaze to linger.

The fabric clung to her chest, highlighting the delicate slope of her collarbone and the subtle swell beneath. The slightly open neckline revealed just enough of her curves to evoke dangerous thoughts, like a forbidden glimpse of temptation. The soft sway of the dress's hemline accentuated the gentle curve of her waist and the swell of her hips, her every movement radiating a seductive allure that was impossible to ignore.

Franz's throat tightened as he instinctively swallowed. He had seen many beautiful women before, but this woman… was capable of stealing a man's very soul.

She smiled faintly, her voice as light as a feather brushing over his heart.

"Your home has been destroyed like this…" Her head tilted slightly, the corner of her lips curling. "Aren't you mad enough to hurt me?"

Her seductive stance, the dreamy look in her eyes, and the teasing tone of her voice made Franz's already precarious rationality waver dangerously.

But he forcibly suppressed the turmoil in his heart and asked coldly, "Why are you doing this?!"

Afreya laughed—a soft, crazed laugh. Then she lifted her head and stared at him with those hauntingly beautiful eyes, her pupils shining with sick excitement.

She slowly raised her hand and ran her fingers across the pink bowstring. Her voice trembled with pleasure.

"To spread love—"

Franz's pupils contracted, and his fury erupted completely.

If the Emperor died, the Graham Empire would fall into his hands. But now the empire was in ruins—if he didn't act, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Without hesitation, his sword flew from its sheath. Black ink-like energy curled around the blade, dark and viscous as the night itself.

Afreya raised her hand slightly, and the pink bowstring dissolved into light. She folded her arms beneath her chest, a chilling smile tugging at her lips. She raised one slender finger and curled it toward Franz in a teasing gesture.

"Come on, Franz… Kill me with everything you've got."

Franz didn't hesitate. Black ink gushed from the sword's edge like a devouring abyss. He roared and lunged toward Afreya—

"Ink Painting Strike!!!"

The blade tore through the air, fast as lightning. It cut through Afreya's body with ruthless precision—

From her collarbone, through her shoulder blade, and down to her abdomen. The ink's corrosive power invaded the wound, causing her pale skin to blister and peel. Blood sprayed into the night as the black ink crawled beneath her skin, corroding her from within.

Afreya was sent flying, crashing onto the roof tiles. Her body convulsed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her dark hair lay in disarray over her face, and her delicate figure trembled pitifully.

Franz stood above her, sword in hand. His brows furrowed.

Too easy.

He had expected a battle of life and death against a god—but she had fallen so easily.

Afreya's body trembled violently, her sharp nails scraping across the tiles as she convulsed.

Then—

Franz's pupils shrank.

Her voice—

It was no longer a scream of pain.

It was… moaning.

Afreya curled up, her body quivering. Then she started laughing. The laugh was high-pitched, crazed, almost orgasmic. She laughed so hard that her entire body shook, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Her hand slid over the wounds on her arm and thigh, her fingertips gliding across the open flesh. She gasped, her lips parting in breathless ecstasy.

"Aah… ahh… this… this is love… ah… so good…"

Franz's stomach turned violently. He suddenly realized that this woman was far more terrifying than he had imagined.

Without giving her another chance, he tightened his grip on the sword and lunged forward. Black ink surged along the blade as it descended toward her neck—

But—

Her wounds…

They were healing.

Before his eyes, her broken flesh began to wriggle and knit itself back together. New skin formed over the bleeding gashes, flawless and pale.

Afreya slowly stood up, her body still trembling with pleasure. She licked her blood-stained lips and smiled.

"Come on…" She whispered, eyes glinting dangerously. "Do it again."

Franz's heart pounded wildly.

Her body—

Was completely restored.

All the wounds, all the cracks, all the festering and rotting marks—within just a brief moment, they were completely restored. Even her skin became as pure and flawless as white jade, as if everything she had suffered earlier was nothing more than an illusion.

Franz felt as if the blood in his entire body was flowing in reverse.

What kind of monster is this?!