Chapter 180 The Mark [R18]

In the quiet room, the light was only half on. Meira sat on Erik’s lap, both hands cupping his face as if she wanted to hold every breath of the person before her.

Her lips pressed close to his, unhurried, each kiss slow and deep, as if tasting every layer of warm skin.

Her tongue coiled around his, soft and wet, drawing thin strands of saliva each time they briefly parted.

She did not allow any space to exist for long. She lowered her head again, her lips swallowing his breath, the wet sound of the kiss rising softly in the thick air.

"Master..."

Her voice trembled faintly, her breath brushing against his lips. She kissed deeper, her tongue entwining without release, saliva mixing, warm and slick.

Each time her tongue glided across, Erik felt the fervor rising from her body, like a flame held back yet unwilling to extinguish.

Meira panted, cheeks flushed red, green eyes gazing at him with complete infatuation, then slowly moved her mouth downward.

She kissed his neck, lips touching the warm skin, lingering for a longer beat. Her tongue licked a light path from bottom to top, slow and careful, as if marking every empty space on his flesh.

Her breath brushed against his neck, hot and damp, making Erik shiver slightly. Meira did not stop. She kissed again, licked again, the tiny wet sounds blending with both their breaths, while her hands still did not release his face.

Outside in the corridor, Runi walked while muttering, her voice low and unfamiliar, as if speaking to herself.

"This smell... what is it..."

She stopped, nostrils flaring lightly. A strange scent seeped through the air, both alluring and causing her lower abdomen to heat in waves.

It was not like the smell of food, nor the smell of blood or familiar magic. It was sweet, but not the sweetness of sugar, more like the scent of something melting, warm and full of life, like the smell of sweet candy mixed with the breath of a pink dream.

Runi felt her throat go slightly dry, while her body wanted to move closer. The tentacles on her back trembled faintly beneath her clothes.

She followed the scent, step by slow step. The door ahead was not fully closed, only a small gap left open as if on purpose.

The scent from inside poured out thicker, sweet and warm, making Runi swallow involuntarily. She placed her hand on the door and pushed lightly. The door swung open.

Inside, Meira was still bent down, her lips still near Erik’s neck. Runi stood frozen at the threshold, face stunned, heat rushing across her entire body.

The tentacles on her back seemed about to crawl out from loss of control, trembling harder. The wet sounds from inside and the thick scent made her entranced, thighs pressing together unnaturally, breath growing heavy.

Meira looked up, saw Runi, and the corner of her mouth curved. She licked her lips, looking Runi up and down, eyes full of teasing.

"Want to join?"

Her voice was gentle, as if granting a favor. Erik looked at Runi, a trace of confusion in his eyes, but he said nothing. He knew the person standing at the door was not the real Runi.

Runi stood still for a few seconds. Her body trembled lightly. Desire and curiosity pushed her to step inside. She closed the door behind her, then slowly knelt between Erik’s legs, just like Meira. Meira smiled, guiding her hand, gently placing Runi’s hand on Erik’s lower body.

"Slowly."

Runi lowered her head. Her mouth opened, covered by thin layers of mucus from her body losing control.

The cavity of her mouth felt like hundreds of small suckers, soft and warm, wrapping around the head of Erik’s cock. She pushed deeper, each motion slow.

The suckers inside tightened lightly then released, creating warm waves surrounding him. Erik breathed heavily, hand resting on her head, clearly feeling the difference from a normal mouth.

Meira did not merely watch. She also lowered her head, lips pressing against the shaft of Erik’s cock from the side, tongue licking slowly along the veins, her saliva mixing with the mucus from Runi’s mouth.

Both of them served him at the same time: one side Runi’s mouth with contracting suckers, the other Meira’s soft and burning tongue. Wet sounds rose continuously, the air in the room growing thicker.

Runi pushed deeper, the head of Erik’s cock reaching deep into her throat. The suckers inside tightened with each pulse, wrapping him from every direction, warm and slick. Meira whispered beside his ear, voice faintly trembling.

"Master... how does it feel..."

Erik could not answer, only breathing heavily. Runi continued, each sucking motion steady, mouth tightening then releasing, as if swallowing wave after wave. The tentacles on her back trembled harder, a few thin strands nearly extending beyond the edge of her clothes.

She flinched slightly, trying to hold them back, but her body did not fully obey. Meira saw it, the corner of her mouth curving, saying nothing, only continuing to lick along Erik’s shaft.

When Erik reached his peak, Runi swallowed everything, each movement of her throat clear. She did not let anything spill, mouth still wrapped tightly until he panted. The suckers inside contracted one last time, drawing every drop clean.

Meira smiled, licked her lips, feeling satisfied. Runi slowly released him, breathing ragged, face flushed red. Beneath her skin, it seemed countless tentacles were writhing, a few strands nearly revealing themselves before retracting in time.

Her eyes unconsciously drifted toward Erik’s lower body. On the lower abdomen, the Succubus mark flickered faintly then extinguished completely.

Meira stood up and pushed Erik’s wheelchair out of the room. Runi followed behind, still flushed, hands lightly trembling. Meira turned back to look at her, the corner of her mouth curving.

"Next time, if you want, just come."

Runi did not answer. She only looked at Erik, eyes still hazy, then slowly followed.

Erik heard this and sighed. He felt that this spy did not seem particularly professional, but it had cost him a little.

Yet that sensation inside ’Runi’s’ mouth just now... made him feel something new. Was that the mouth of Runi, or of the one currently occupying her body?

Thump!

At that moment, a dull sound rang out. Everyone looked toward the corridor. Elowen stood there, a stack of documents fallen to the floor, her eyes looking at everyone as if filled with something hard to believe.

"Mother... and Runi too. You all..." Elowen stammered, face slightly flushed: "Are you sneaking around again?"

Erik: "..."

....

At the same time, on the highest floor of the Male Council headquarters.

BOOM... BOOM...

The final aftershocks ran along the tower. Crystal chandeliers swayed, wine glasses tipped and spilled red across the white carpet. The attendant Succubi knelt on the floor, both hands covering their heads.

Screeeeech—

Zeka’s half-meter-long nails scraped down the armrest of the chair. Only when the floor stopped shaking did he exhale a broken breath.

"You’re still alive, aren’t you?"

From inside the round glass helmet of the chair beside him came a raspy voice.

"Thanks to the blessing of the Sun Male God."

The man wore an off-white spacesuit, the air tubes on his back hissing steadily. Throughout the entire meeting he had never removed the helmet, nor touched the wine glass before him. Anything poured by Succubus hands, of course he would not drink.

No one in the room noticed that while the tower shook, thin lines like hairs had appeared on the white fabric of the suit, connecting into symbols that belonged to no known script. They lit for a beat then extinguished completely.

Only the black-haired attendant standing in the corner of the room faintly raised her eyes.

Now the suit was pure white again.

BANG!

The meeting room door burst open. A female prison guard rushed in and collapsed before the steps.

"Reporting to God Zeka! The deepest prison floor... something happened! It’s Winter... the crystal pillar..." She swallowed dryly. "The sisters on duty below no longer respond to communications."

Zeka’s expression changed immediately.

"Take me down."

"I’ll go too." The astronaut raised a hand, voice through the speaker oddly cheerful. "I want to see if the Council’s assets have been damaged by those Succubi."

...

At the same time, on the top floor of the Men’s Council headquarters.

BOOM... BOOM...

The final tremor ran through the tower. Crystal chandeliers swayed, and overturned wine glasses spilled red stains across the white carpet. The attendant Succubi lay kneeling on the floor, both hands covering their heads.

Screeech!

Zeka’s half-meter-long claws scraped down the armrest of his chair. Behind him, two trembling Succubi knelt and held up his long white hair, not daring to let even a single strand touch the floor. Only when the ground stopped shaking did that gaunt body, little more than skin stretched over bones, let out a broken breath.

"You are still alive, aren’t you?"

A crackling voice came from inside the round glass helmet of the chair beside him.

"Thanks to the blessings of the Sun God of Men."

The man wore an off-white astronaut suit, the air tubes on his back releasing a steady hiss. Throughout the meeting, he had never removed his helmet or touched the wine glass before him. Naturally, he would not drink anything poured by a Succubus.

No one in the room noticed that while the tower had been shaking, hair-thin lines had appeared across the white fabric of his suit, connecting into symbols that belonged to no known script. They lit up for a moment before abruptly fading.

Only the black-haired female attendant standing in the corner of the room slightly raised her eyes.

Now, the suit was spotless white again.

BANG!

The meeting room doors burst open. A female prison guard rushed in and collapsed before the steps.

"God Zeka! The deepest prison... something has happened! Winter... the crystal pillar..." She swallowed hard. "The sisters guarding the lower level are no longer responding to communications."

Zeka’s expression immediately changed.

"Take me down."

"I’m coming too." The astronaut raised a hand, his voice through the speaker strangely excited. "I want to see whether the Council’s assets have been damaged by those Succubi."

...

The farther the elevator descended, the lower the temperature fell. The breaths of the Succubi pushing the electric carts had become white mist.

Beep. Beep.

"The filters report contaminants in the air below." The astronaut tapped on his glass visor, his voice filled with disgust. "Of course it is a place for Succubi. Filthy."

Ding.

The corridor before them was shrouded in darkness, the magic lamps along the walls flickering as if about to go out. At the end of the corridor, six female prison guards stood in a row before the cell, their backs turned, heads lowered, completely motionless.

"Hey!" Zeka shouted. "Have you all gone deaf?"

No one turned around.

The steel door, thicker than a handspan, had been bent outward like a sheet of paper. Inside, Winter was still suspended amid black chains coiled around the crystal pillar. But from the new cracks on the pillar’s surface, countless streams of black smoke crawled out, drifting like algae beneath the water, coiling around her wrists before spreading across the floor.

Dark Mist.

Winter raised her head.

"Heh..."

"Hehehe... hahaha... HAHAHAHA!"

Laughter echoed across the stone walls. It was not the voice of one person. One voice was hoarse, as though its throat had gone far too long without water, while another overlapped it, clear and cheerfully chilling, like two people fighting to use the same throat.

"It has been a long time..." Winter’s cracked lips curved into an overly wide smile. "Gentlemen."

"Activate the sealing formation!" Zeka’s voice rose into a shrill cry. "Now!"

The six female prison guards slowly turned around at the same time. Black veins crawled up their necks and filled their eye sockets, leaving nothing but hollow darkness.

Thud.

Behind Zeka, the Succubi holding his hair and pushing his cart released their hands all at once. One by one, they froze in place, their heads tilting at the same angle like puppets whose strings had just been seized.

BANG!

Zeka’s electric cart tipped over. His skeletal body rolled across the stone floor like a bundle of dry firewood. His white hair came loose across the damp, cold ground, something he had never allowed to touch the floor in his entire life.

His long claws scraped out sparks, but his arms, nothing more than skin over bones, could not push his body upright. The cart beside him overturned as well, and the astronaut lay on his back in the corridor, his limbs flailing like an upturned turtle.

"Stop! I order you to stop!"

No one listened. The controlled Succubi stepped forward, their hands stretching out as Dark Mist surged behind them like a black wave.

A thin strand of smoke, no thicker than a finger, stretched out and touched the astronaut’s glass visor.

Vwoosh!

The symbols on his suit all flared to life. Fine lines lit up pale gold, connecting into overlapping circles before bursting into a dazzling halo of light.

UOOOONG!!

A deep sound rang out like a giant bell tolling beneath the earth. The halo spread in waves, sweeping through the corridor and the prison cell.

Dark Mist shrieked sharply as though it had been burned, curling up before dissolving into ash. The controlled Succubi collapsed one after another, the black veins on their necks withdrawing like a receding tide.

Inside the cell, Winter’s smile stiffened.

"...That thing..." The clear voice lost its cheerfulness for the first time. "Why is it here?"

The last of the black smoke retreated into the cracks of the crystal pillar. Winter’s body jerked violently once before hanging limp amid the chains.

Drip. Drip.

Only the sound of blood dripping onto the stone floor remained.

Zeka lay sprawled amid the tangled mass of white hair, cold sweat pouring from him as his sunken chest rose and fell in rapid breaths. He tried twice to lift himself up, failing both times.

"WHERE IS EVERYONE?!" His normally high and slow voice broke into a shrill screech through the communication device on his wrist. "All Succubi from the lower levels, get down here immediately! Help me up!"

"Me too!" The crackling voice sounded beside him. "Hurry! My breathing tube is being crushed!"

More than a dozen Succubi rushed down in panic. Two lifted Zeka back onto his cart, as lightly as though they were lifting a bundle of firewood.

Four others knelt to gather every lock of white hair, trembling as they brushed away dust as though dusting off a sacred relic. Two more helped the astronaut sit up, carefully avoiding contact with his visor.

Zeka sat there, breathing heavily. His eyes rested on the white suit.

The fabric no longer bore a single symbol, looking exactly like an old outfit dug out from the ruins of humanity. But the light from earlier had torn through Dark Mist as easily as a thin curtain. Even the sealing formation that the Council had spent hundreds of years maintaining had never done something like that.

"That suit..." Zeka frowned. "Where did you get it?"

"Ha!" The astronaut slapped his thigh, his laughter crackling through the speaker. "See? How many times did I say it? Breathing the same air as Succubi is no different from suicide! You laughed at me for over a decade, and now this very suit just saved your life!"

He puffed out his chest as though he had just proven the greatest truth of his life.

"Laviana gave it to me. In exchange for the Contract termination document." He sneered. "That stupid woman kept it for over a decade without knowing how valuable it was."

Zeka’s long claws slowly curled.

"Laviana..."

The woman who possessed the Serpent Eye could see every corner of Silver Moon. And now, she was living under the same roof as Erik.

At the corner of the corridor, the black-haired female attendant silently picked up the white handkerchief that had fallen to the ground, wiped each finger clean, then folded it into four.

Only her eyes remained fixed on that white suit for a long time.

The magic lamp above her flickered once.

In the instant the light went out, her pitch-black pupils slowly narrowed and stretched into diamond-shaped slits, cold and motionless like the eyes of a hunting snake.

Beneath her gray collar, porcelain-white skin flashed with tiny scales layered one over another, shifting colors with every breath: emerald green, deep violet, bronze gold, then dark crimson.

Click.

The light came back on.

The scales had vanished. Her eyes were once again pitch-black and still, like a porcelain doll that had never known how to look at anyone for too long.