Malrik's hips continued to slam into Emilim's thighs as she bit her lips. Her head was half down in shame as the burnt smell of hair filled her nostrils.
But she paid that no mind—no, it didn't matter— all she focused on was his shaft. The way it pulsed and churned as he got ready for his release.
His hands holding and spreading Emilim's swollen backside. Soft. Swollen. His glistening member slicing into her. Her back arching like a bow. His length moved along her spine as she struggled to take him fully in.
"Get ready, I'm coming". My dear~"" Malrik spoke, his voice rough and commanding, and sounded layered with a brief delay.
Emilim moans a pained grunt, "Inside... I-inside the other hole," she begs, already having experienced the different levels of pleasure between where he spills his seed.
Her head shot up and turned to the man behind.
His hair dripped down to his neck. His obsidian eyes glinting, a crimson light sparked slightly as he sliced his hair away from his forehead. And he smiled at her. His grin was perfect. Confident. Yet arrogant. His figure wasn't muscular, but he didn't look frail either; his body stood in a state of perfect temptation as its lean physique bordered on sinful obsession.
This was Malrik—the demon lord of consorts.
"I don't care if you pull out directly afterwards. but please, please—" Emilim's words got cut off. She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. His length pulled out as he listened and understood her desire. The tension in her anus easing.
Her anus turned into a gaping maw.
The wind brushed against her back door, but she didn't care, her hips buckling.
Emilim's fingers tightly holding onto the railing. Her pants filled the air, burning desire reflecting off her ashamed expression—her heart skipping a beat as she waited with bated breath, anticipating the powerful thrusts that had thoroughly ruined her insides—and Malrik didn't let her down.
His hips came forward with a burning fury, slamming into her swollen red folds. The impact sent a cold sting through her, which caused her body to arch even more and her breasts to shoot up, all while a lustful smirk painted her lips as several hot ribbons of cum filled her womb.
Ahhhhh~
Emilim screamed in ecstasy, the mark below her navel glowing as her womb greedily drank up his seed, "More, more, more~" she repeated, her insides clenching tightly around his shaft.
A lustful expression was firmly painted on her face as she stuck out her tongue. Her face contorted as her pleasure continued to build—ahegao—that was the only word Malrik could describe her at this moment.
"I fucking love that expression," his voice dripping with seduction. His hands cupping her face as he pulls her in and takes her lips. His rough tongue met hers, while it remained dripping with his own saliva, swirling together as Emilim rode her high.
His hand moving onto her abdomen, gently caressing her markings, he felt the rings of his mana flow through it. His intent. Will and desire. She was his. Only his. And she and all the others in this army would learn it as well.
I really am giving in to debauchery, Malrik thought. His hand moving off Emilim's abdomen and wrapping around the base of his cock. His fingers formed a ring as he squeezed around it as he began to pull out.
"But I'm not complaining," he muttered to himself, his tail twitching as his newly acquired pet so lovingly took it down her throat. His eyes looked down to his sides. A silver-haired girl kneeled on all fours—her blue, slitted eyes looking upwards as a light whimper escaped her mouth—his spade tail stretched down her throat, licking her innards and stimulating her womb from within.
A youthful face stared up at him, delicate and ever-shifting.
Her face changed constantly as if she was trying out new outfits to see which one fit her style—her face eventually solidified at a reasonable 'age,' one that didn't make her seem too childish and still complimented and maintained her petite figure—he looked down at the final construct and nodded inwardly with approval.
Fuyumi~
He called out, and the silver-haired girl looked up at him with lustful obedience; her tail wiggled, and her wings unfolded. Her naked hips wagging.
Her sight was one to behold, from the way her voice filled the air with a playful hum. To the way her rosy skin glistened as the red lights reflected off her ripening figure and her bubbly twin peaks hung as gravity was the first to feel their embrace. All the way to how her light pastries swayed through the air as her front arched downward and her backside and tail lifted into the air.
The sight in front of him was tantalizing.
Though his magic sight slightly ruined the immersion. Multiple spells filled his vision. The outline of Fuyumi's true form is clear as day. The layers of magical spells did half the job of hiding what lay beneath.
Malrik blinked, then his sights unraveled the whole illusion as a small, sleek dragon the size of a large dog appeared in Fuyumi's place—no, that wasn't right. Fuyumi appeared in the silver-haired girl's place—her silvery scales catching the light like a living mirror. Wide, opal eyes stared up at him, luminous and lustful as the stimulation spells on it got to work.
Malrik licked his lips.
Fuyumi's hands are doing wonders as her tongue rodes the base of his tail, her fangs meeting with it as she pushes it to the side; her golden eyes are fixed with his own as her 'small lips' comfort his black length.
"I didn't expect you to be such an obedient girl~"
—
A few minutes prior
Malrik's hips buckled. She felt his shaft as it tried to bury itself deep inside her. She broke the kiss and bit her lips, throwing her hips back to meet his deepening manhood—this caused her to gasp lightly— she felt the outline of Malrik's cock as she greedily impaled herself onto its remaining length in one fluid motion.
Her eyes are rolling up as a light moan is muffled through her lips. "O by the name of the mother goddess!" she cried out as the length burst a stream of cum directly inside her with a fierce intensity that stole her breath away. Each spurt triggered the magic spell placed in her womb, causing a powerful wave of pleasure enough to make her legs shake to wash over her.
Malrik poured into her cunt non-stop. His seed hitting her womb like a broken faucet, and she loved every moment of it.
"O by the name of the mother goddess, fuck me more~" Emilim cried out as the Malrik's manhood filled her insides. His sperm bathing her womb in white.
Malrik's tail continued to play with her clit.
While his hands behind him roam her body. His fingers slipped through her clothes, caressing her bare skin. But she didn't react to any of that, it seemed. He tried to pinch her nipples out of curiosity, but his fingers passed onto them briefly before passing through.
"Well, that confirms I'm still intangible," Malrik muttered, reaffirming what he already knew. There's still a lot to learn about this, it seems, he thought. Hmm.
He was trying to figure out which of his two active authorities allowed him to defy logic and caused or allowed him to interact with Emilim's pussy. Malrik didn't know if it was a mutation of both Lovers II and Malrik Thorneveil Tenebris, as he had been making them work together to obtain more consorts, and that might have caused her to perceive some of his actions.
Though apparently only in her sexual orifices.
His hands continue to play with her nipples. But she didn't react again, her own hand vigorously playing with her mound as his hips continued moving forward. His ejaculation done and his hardened once again—his hips moved back, pulling his purple glans out of her milky womb—his fingers made a twisting motion on her pink buds.
This time he formed two magic circles around them and her pink areolas. His hands met the nipples and began to squeeze and pinch them.
This caused Emilim to squirm. His magic stimulation working as a perfect substitute for physical contact, his rough play affecting her as she tried to get her breasts out of his hold by moving her body—
Her hips moving in slow circles as she began pulling herself off and onto his shaft. Her wet arousal and his cum slicing against his skin as she found herself in a meaningless struggle—her hand moving off her breast and trying to get his fingers to stop—her hips continued to roll in circles as Malrik slammed into her and caused her breasts to jolt with the slam.
Her hips moving in slow circles as she began pulling herself off and onto his shaft. Her wet arousal and his cum slicing against his skin as she found herself in a meaningless struggle—her hand moving off her breast and trying to get his fingers to stop—her hips continued to roll in circles as Malrik slammed into her and caused her breasts to jolt with a single thrust.
The two magic circles joined into the network of spells placed on her and linked the pleasure of all of her holes and her chest together, as now stimulating one spot now stimulated all her arousal zones.
This should make it a little more interesting~
Malrik's mind was working on a different level than before. His intelligence became so high that he was able to successfully mechanize the spells he had learned to form new spells fitting his needs with ease.
He had already thought of his authorities as busted cheats, but now he fully understood how broken he truly was.
If I can do this right now with seventeen thousand consorts... then what would he be able to do with hundreds of thousands or even millions of consorts? His mind raced with possibilities. The tools to do as he pleased were already laid out for him.
His current act is Authority Lovers II.
With this authority he was a ghost to the world—partially—and so were his rings.
The idea crept out of his inner self like a tidal wave.
His authorities seemed to, or maybe didn't, rely on so much mana that it made it impossible for him to notice, and that was the key to his success in covering one of his biggest disadvantages.
His weakness.
It was laughable. Weak.
If anyone were to hear his thoughts, they'd assume he was joking around. Weak?? How's having a level of two million still called being weak??
But in actuality, the ESS stat cores, what seemed to have been a quarter of Aiki's true strength, and his own lack of knowledge and understanding made him realize how incredibly weak he was and still currently is.
Sure, he's gotten a lot stronger than before, and he could probably pull off a weaker version of Aiki's purple AOE by making Emilim layer the spell she was casting and extend it to the whole army—and he had a feeling if he made the spell's attack power higher than their HP and defense, their cores wouldn't bring them to their full physical stats, and he might one-shot them into oblivion—and if he decides to go full maniacal, he could use that and start wiping out a few dozen towns—though he doubted he'd initiate an attack in this form by himself. But that could be fixed with a bit of practice, and the witches and wizards here were fine testing subjects—and the people and low-level guards within it leveled up a bunch in the process.
He could probably get away with it for a while, but what would happen if the kingdom sent out all its resources to have him killed? What if they summoned all the heroes? No, maybe even one was enough to stop him—they also had cheats (godheads), after all—as he tried to escape from the kingdom and into another?
This was why he called himself weak. If the demon king couldn't take the whole world by himself and instead had to set a waiting time for his race and made them go into hiding after his death, then what could he possibly do? Nothing. It was that simple. The moment the world caught wind of him and his grandfather's demon lord project. He'd become public enemy number one.
So then... what did his authorities not being mana-draining machines have to do with him successfully covering his weakness?
Malrik Thorneveil Tenebris allowed him to grow stronger by adding his consort's (wife's) stats onto his own. While Lovers II allows him to view, move between, and potentially "interact" with them when used in unison with the former, he stays in a ghostly form unseen, unheard, and unfelt by the world.
So his thoughts were simply, what if he continues to use his gifts in congregation? What if he stayed like this for as long as possible?
Did he even need to go back to normal? Why not stay like this for good? He couldn't be seen or touched for the most part, and if he felt physical needs, he had just worked out how to satisfy them with Emilim.
Still, despite how great of an idea this sounded...
He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong, and then it hit him—
What if he wanted to be social? Humans were social creatures after all, even despite him no longer being one.
Well, spells made sounds right?
The solution to his problem came directly into his mind the exact moment he thought about it. That's it, I could reverse engineer a form of sound magic!! He had everything laid out quite nicely: touch, sound, and safety.
He had all the tools needed to live his life in utter limbo.
He could work with this.
"But first~" Malrik turned his head slightly off to the side. He had a few bugs to clear out. He thought as his hands dug into Emilim's mounds. Her soft flesh spilled between his fingers as her areolas glowed with a pink light.
The sounds of mana flooding into Emilim's body.
Then twisting and breaking sounds of the magic circle in front of her soon followed and caused the old, gray-bearded wizard next to her to look over.
MP: -5600→-5860→-5979
Emilim's mouth began to foam again. Her veins bulging as Malrik filled her like a balloon, her muscles tore and her skin itched as the mana coursed through her being.
-6034→-6438→-6666
He stopped transferring mana into her once her body began to glow and her pussy wrapped so tightly around his shaft that her walls began to phase into his cock, and her passage continued to narrow around him.
The sensation he felt was incredible, the way her warmth wrapped so tightly around him turning him even more erect.
"Six six six six, huh?" He muttered, "I guess that even your body was always meant to take in a demon~." He teased, his grip tightening around her breasts—his mana being funneled back slightly into the stimulation spell—causing her to let out a grumbling noise, between pleasure and pain.
Malrik worked on funneling the mana inside of her. Supplying both spells while altering the potency of the fireball spell. Its heat absorption and creation rate increased as he worked on it.
"... Let's see," his throat cleared, " I don't really know what they are, so let's stick to this for now. Unknown tier fire magic; sins burning judgment," he said as all of the mana that had flooded into Emilim was pushed out into the chaotic reinforcement and reworking spell.
Its magical light beamed, and Emilim screamed her lungs out; this time she didn't muffle her own cries.
An old wizard man with a beard that reached his belly panickingly turned around, his belly jiggling as he and the others all turned in her direction—the large amount of mana alerting them and drawing them away from the seemingly endless battle.
"Barrier!!" The wizard screamed, his eyes instantly recognizing the danger of her spell, "Witch, are you—" His eyes suddenly widened and his breath hitched. Her spell intensified and instantly filled the platform with its heat.
"What do you think your—"
"Barrier," Malrik chanted, instantly understanding the complex spell and integrating it into his own. More devastation. His body shifted as he absorbed the wizard's magic—the swirling arcane shield spinning around the caster like a vortex.
The spell's body was vibrant, and he could see the heat of his own magic distorting the air around it as it drank deeply from its own mana.
His mind churned as he dissected its principles and layered them into his own construct.
The magic circle took on a hellish red. Its body twisted and reformed, multiplying. Multicolored red rings bloomed like tumors along the walls, floor, and ceiling of the platform in seconds—
Then three massive red circles flared brighter than the rest.
"B u R N," a voice crackled out—so distorted it could barely be understood. And with it came flame.
Torrents of fire exploded outward from each hovering spell circle.
"Cancel!!! Cancel!!! Cancel!!!" the wizards screamed, launching classic beams of condensed wizardry at the incoming flames. Vibrant arcs of five-colored magic twisted into the red circles, trying to hijack the spell—
But it was too late.
The fire engulfed them. Flames swallowed their bodies, and the air turned thick with the reek of burning hair and melting flesh. Screams tore through the confined, blazing tower.
Then—
The flames stopped.
The screams continued.
But not from all.
The wizard who had first sensed the attack—the one who raised his barrier—remained unscathed. He stood inside his shield, blinking, stunned. Not because the barrier had held—he had reinforced it to endure several of Malrik's waves.
No—what stunned him was that the flames had stopped before they could fully consume their targets.
And now the magic circles… no longer aligned with fire.
"Cancel!!!" the wizard howled, panic thick in his voice. All-white light reflected across his skin as he poured his full power into the command. His mana burst out in thick streams, rushing in every direction—
Only to slam into a swarm of equally radiant colors—vibrant tendrils that writhed like living things. They dodged, coiled, and tangled with his magic, then surged forward, launching new multi-colored spells into the air where the flames had vanished moments before.
The other wizards fell silent. Their faces frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape—half-formed barriers flickering around them like broken shields.
Streams of mana now pierced their burned bodies.
Their muscles bulged. Their spines arched. Their mouths opened as raw, unfiltered magic poured into them. The pain was no longer that of fire—but of mana, burning like acid beneath the skin. Their teeth cracked. Foam spilled from their lips. Their eyes rolled as the inflow turned into a hellish torrent.
Then the walls changed once more.
A fresh set of glyphs—ones Malrik had long since grown used to—overlapped the previous runes, anchoring where the vibrant threads had pierced their bodies. The mana flow reversed.
They screamed louder.
Their cores burned, resisting the drain. But the spell carved into them anyway. The flow could not be stopped—it ripped from them, violent and complete.
And then it all flowed into her.
Into Emilim.
The wizard watched, horror-struck, as the threadwork of magic converged on her. Her body became a nexus. Her skin blistered, radiant and cracked, as mana surged through her veins like molten metal.
Her body swelled—flesh stretching, muscles tearing. Her nerves burned so completely that the pleasure hex once cast on her could no longer even register. There was no balance, no twisted joy—only endless agony.
Her back arched, her screams drowned in her own blood, and her hair turned white—pure and brittle as ash—as the mana consumed everything it touched.
It didn't stop.
She twitched uncontrollably, her limbs spasming like a puppet on too many strings. Her nails cracked. Her lips split open. Her tongue lolled out, blood-slicked and chewed through as she clenched too hard.
And still the mana poured through her. From them—into her—then into Malrik.
A funnel of agony.
The numbers glowed in the air, mocking her pain:
[+660] → [+797] → [+837] → [+1,358] → [+3,874]
Each jump struck like a hammer to the soul.
And somewhere, beyond existence, Malrik smiled.