Chapter 17

A sharp whistle shot through the air as the mushroom cloud began to form.

"Raging Wolf Sword Art: Midnight Howling!"

Aero's voice rang out—fierce and resolute, filled with every ounce of strength and will she had left.

Her armor buckled slightly from the force of the jet stream she had created, hurling her forward as she shot through the air to meet the slowly blooming explosion—relative to her speed—with sword in hand.

A shimmering, nearly colorless aura wrapped around her muscles, twisting and forming the image of a wolf-shaped beast. It surged around her, engulfing her entire frame before being drawn into her blade. Her sword flared with that raw, primal light—then she unleashed it in one blinding strike.

Burst!

A massive gale roared out, colliding with the violet explosion midair. The impact of her strike pushed back the explosive force—what seemed to be a seventh-tier spell—dulling its core and blowing its energy outward.

But that didn't mean there were no casualties.

But that didn't mean there were no casualties.

The spell's power, though dulled, still blanketed half the town. Thousands perished in an instant, their bodies consumed in the blast zone's violet fire.

Dust and silence followed. But only for a moment.

From within the swirling haze of smoke and falling debris, a blur moved.

Aero's eyes snapped downward—too late.

Crash!

A figure slammed into her from below, sending her tumbling through the air. Blood sprayed from her lips as she spiraled through the wind. Gritting her teeth, she twisted midair, righting herself just in time. Her sword rose in a defensive guard as the figure emerged into view.

Red eyes gleamed beneath ash-streaked bangs. The creature—feral and grinning—licked Aero's blood from its fingers before diving down and slamming her into the ground with brutal force.

The impact split the earth. Dust and shattered stone exploded outward.

As they hit the ground, a sickening unease washed over her. There was something… wrong. Beneath her, she felt it—multiple tremors rippling through the ground. Her instincts screamed.

She lifted her legs and kicked the vampire off, flipping backward and skidding to a crouch, sword still in hand. The vampire snarled but didn't pursue immediately. It was watching. Waiting.

Then—movement. All around her.

Down below, the rubble stirred. Cracks spiderwebbed through scorched streets and collapsed buildings. From beneath charred stone and twisted debris, hundreds of ghouls began to claw their way out—burnt, bloodied, some still wearing what little armor remained. Yet none looked defeated.

Their eyes shone with pale hunger.

A voice—smooth, ancient and colder then winter steel—whispered not to their ears, but directly into their minds.

"Kill them all."

The command didn't echo aloud. It broadcast, piercing the minds of every ghoul and vampire scattered throughout the town.

Far on the opposite side—where the explosion hadn't reached—the chaos shifted. Ghouls who had been masquerading as human adventurers, shoulder-to-shoulder with witches, soldiers, and mages as they fought off the ant horde, suddenly turned. Their postures straightened, their eyes dimmed to a corpse's gleam.

They dropped the pretense of humanity.

Without warning, they turned their blades—not on the ants, but on the humans beside them.

Screams rang out. Confused soldiers were gutted mid-shout, spells fizzled from the hands of stunned wizards as their allies betrayed them in a flash of fangs and fury.

And then—the ants changed too.

Their fallen dead, twisted and riddled with holes from spells and steel, shuddered to life. Their once-drained husks filled with a black, twitching vitality. They hissed, louder than before, sharper, and more coordinated. And then they attacked.

Not with blind instinct, but with purpose.

With hatred.

The air turned thick with blood and betrayal.

Yet farther in the newly destroyed eastern sector, farther than the blossoming trees and roots darting and tearing through hundreds of silver-cloaked figures, a scene of debauchery persisted in the very tower that brought distraction to half the town as it and the floating structures that left it in droves and traveled the town bursting with tendrils and abducting thousands of women remained invisible both metaphorically and ritually as they went unnoticed through the carnage.

Hmm? Do I know that voice? Malrik thought. His mind locking onto the mental links flying through the air, 'Well, whatever, I should probably finish up here and get back to Velmaria and Saelira~' he whispered underneath his breath. 

He didn't plan on looking into the link he had stumbled onto—while prying into the elven link he had used to track down Eleryn's companions, that he was currently taunting from meters away.

His tail slipped free from Fuyumi's lips with a soft, wet sound, and he let out a low chuckle, amused by the sight before him. "Fuyumi-tan~" he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction as his eyes roamed over her bare body, glistening under the glow that filtered from the outside of the tower.

She remained on all fours, still panting lightly, her silver hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves. The silence hung just long enough to feel like a command, until with a sharp snap of his fingers, a shimmer of blue light cascaded over her form.

In an instant, elegant fabric wrapped itself around her, forming a midnight-blue dress adorned with gold trim and sapphiric accents that matched the curve of her horns. The outfit hugged her figure perfectly, like it had been made for this moment—and for his eyes alone.

"Roll over," he said softly, not a request but an order, his gaze fixed and pleased as he waited for her to obey.

Fuyumi obeyed without hesitation, the faint chime of magic still lingering in the air as she shifted her posture. Her lithe form moved with fluid grace as she rolled onto her back, the fine silk of her newly conjured outfit clinging to her curves with every motion.

She bent her legs slightly and drew her arms in close, her wings folding beneath her as she sprawled in a pose that was more playful than submissive—like a pampered draconic pet showing off for her master. Her silver tail curled to the side, tip twitching faintly.

A teasing smile curved her lips as she stuck out her tongue, a soft, silent gesture that shimmered with both mockery and obedience.

She was his now, fully dressed, presented, and waiting for his next command.

"Good girl~" Malrik muttered, his hand lightly slapping Emilim's ass cheeks. Her cheeks jiggled at the impact. Pain shot through her, causing her body to tremble as she was still recovering from her orgasm.

She let out a pleased moan.

"You two, both line up next to her," he said, speaking to Emilim and the maid-outfit-wearing Eleryn, who had laid on the ground—her legs spread as she arched off the floor, her abdomen twitching as she, too, recovered from her own climax.

He didn't even pay her words any thought. Instead, he was fully fixed on Fuyumi's display and the taboo, askew desires it brought out of him. But that didn't mean she'd get all his attention—he looked at Eleryn, then back at Emilim.

"What are you two doing? Get in position. Or do you two want to be sent away~?" Malrik replied, moving on to his entrée. His steps weren't overbearing, but they carried a sense of excitement that rippled through the young dragon—whose cherry would be sweetly savored.

"Let's have some real fun this time~"

Eleryn's breath hitched at his command. The teasing smile faded from her lips, replaced by something deeper—hungrier. She rolled onto her side, then rose to her knees, adjusting the hem of her maid-like outfit as she crawled into place beside Fuyumi. Her eyes shimmering with anticipation, the glow of the room casting her golden hair in ethereal waves.

Emilim hesitated for only a heartbeat, still trembling slightly as aftershocks flickered through her limbs. But the moment she met Malrik's gaze—sharp, unwavering—she obeyed. Her body moved with quiet grace, joining the others as instructed. Now the three of them knelt side by side, a row of devotion and desire, each one different yet bound by the same pull toward him.

Fuyumi's tail curled at the tip as if sensing the presence of the others beside her. Eleryn clasped her hands behind her back, head bowed slightly. Emilim sat still, the faintest flush still warming her cheeks.

Malrik's smirk deepened. Power wasn't something he flaunted—it radiated from him effortlessly. His eyes lingered on the three kneeling forms before him, each one perfectly still, perfectly obedient.

But it was Fuyumi who held his attention now—the subtle rise and fall of her breath, the slight tension in her posture, as if anticipating his next move.

He stepped forward, and knelt between Fuyumi's spread legs. Hs hands grasping onto her soft thighs as he pushed her legs back—making the lasses of her dress come undone—Fuyumi's hands reached between her legs and pulled up her dress without any hesitation. 

Solid Illusion magic's the best, Malrik thought, as he was able to craft multiple constructs: flesh, clothing, and multiple other objects through mana, while his current best application of the magic would have to be the rose lips in front of him. 

His left hand moved off her thigh. His fingers held his glistening cock, its length fully lubed with Emilim's juices. He leaned forward, his tip rubbing against her soft folds, causing her to whimper as the false sensation of his penetration traveled to her brain through the spell's magic circles. 

Her wings quivered lightly at his touch. Fuyumi arched herself against him instinctively, craving more contact. Her body accepting his glans, her eyes closing as he entered her true hole hidden behind her human form.

A low, rumbling purr vibrated through her chest as she leaned into his member. Her legs spreading wider, "Fuck, yours is definitely the tightest one I've just had." Malrik grunted as he pushed into her narrow passage.

His penis moved deeper inch by inch, and Fuyumi's vaginal canal took all of him, and she still had room for more. Her insides curling upwards as he hit her walls, yet he hadn't reached her womb or even halfway through

Fuyumi's whole body shudders as Malrik fills her, a deep, guttural moan escaping her lips. Her claws dig gently into the fabric in her hands as newfound pleasure courses through her veins.

Then—

Her face began to distort slightly, her insides churning as his hips fully pushed against hers. His hand left his dick, moving onto her waist, while his other pushed her leg closer to her shoulder—his fingers trailing up under her thigh and onto her ankle—as he leaned in and kissed her.

A high-pitched keen escapes Fuyumi's throat as Malrik pushes deeper—his dick growing and filling the space he previously couldn't as his cock grew five more inches and its girth thickened—stretching her impossibly wide. Thin rivulets of dark red blood begin to trickle down her inner thighs, staining his cock a deep crimson.

Fuyumi's body trembles violently, her wings unfurling slightly as pain mixes with pleasure. A strangled whimper escapes her throat as Malrik pushes deeper inside her tight passage.

His length pushes into the arch of Fuyumi's tunnel, lightly brushing up against her cervix as her upper tunnel narrows and her insides rearrange to push him out—yet it only made it easier for him to meet her fully; her womb and walls came to his heated glands.

Her insides clenched around him reflexively as if trying to expel the invader—only it was too late for that. Malrik held himself still for a moment—enjoying the sensation of her cervix squeezing him—before beginning to slowly thrust inside her womb, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through Fuyumi's entire being.

Another high-pitched cry left her mouth. His head pushes past Fuyumi's cervix and into her womb, stretching it out obscenely wide. Her walls continued to push against him as her insides began to resemble more of the one he had experienced. 

A grunt left Malrik's mouth and flooded into Fuyumi's. His tongue doing something he hadn't known he could, it extended outwards. Not as long as the one of the vampire that molested him, but he wouldn't doubt if it had grown to be five or six inches. 

His tongue danced all over hers, tasting her saliva, its warmth, and surprising sweetness. His saliva also grew in quantity as it poured out of his mouth in small streams as he savored her own nectar. 

Emilim and Eleryn watched with bated breath as Malrik claimed Fuyumi completely, their own bodies responding in sympathetic arousal. Emilim squirmed on the floor beside them while Eleryn bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Malrik set a slow pace initially—driving into Fuyumi's stretched-out womb with deliberate, controlled thrusts. But he couldn't hold back for long. His hips soon began to snap faster, driving deeper into her overstretched channel with each stroke.

Fuyumi screamed—her voice raw and animalistic—as Malrik claimed her womb ruthlessly. Her wings beat wildly behind her, the sound echoing through the chamber as she was fucked mercilessly.

Malrik gripped Fuyumi's waist hard as he pounded into her mercilessly—his balls slapping lewdly against her ass with each thrust. The obscene sound filled the air along with Fuyumi's broken moans and whimpers.

"Fuck yeah~" Malrik grunted savagely—his thrusts growing harder and faster now as he chased his release inside Fuyumi's abused womb. "I'm going to fill you up so good~"

He reached beneath Fuyumi and found her 'clit'—an artificial point made out of magic and enhanced with his stimulation magic—pinching the sensitive nub harshly as he continued to rut into her womb. The sudden stimulation sent Fuyumi over the edge—her body seizing up in climax as she howled loudly.

Malrik followed shortly after—his orgasm ripping through him violently as his cock pulsed and throbbed deep inside Fuyumi's spasming womb. He continued to grind into her through his release—milking every last drop out before finally pulling free with a wet squelch.

Fuyumi collapsed forward—her body limp and trembling as she struggled to breathe through the haze of her intense climax.

Malrik rose off Fuyumi with a satisfied grunt—his spent cock glistening with her fluids—and turned to address Emilim and Eleryn once again.

"Now it's your turn," he said simply, his eyes gleaming with dark promise as he stepped back toward them—a wicked smirk twisting his lips. "Get on your hands and knees."

Emilim obeyed immediately—scrambling into position with eager haste—but Eleryn took a moment longer to comply. There was a flash of defiance still in those emerald green eyes before she relented and dropped onto all fours beside Emilim.

Malrik's gaze roved over both females—appreciating their displayed subservience—and then settled on Eleryn.

"Time to fill that throat of yours," he murmured darkly, his hand reaching out to stroke Eleryn's cheek—thumb brushing over her swollen lip. "But this turnaround, show me what you can really do for me."