Chapter 3

“You have to spread them properly. Otherwise, how can I check if the seed took properly?”

“Why would you even check that…?!”

“It’s part of the treatment process.”

Anach looked down at Rona’s body, which had just been holding him, almost like he was admiring her. His eyes were far too dark for it to be considered clinical.

Her flushed hips, still reddened from where they’d been smacked, and her sensitive bud, swollen and visibly overworked, told the whole story.

Her lower entrance, unable to close properly after taking in so much, pulsed faintly like it was breathing. The scene looked indecent—like she survived solely on his seed.

“Hngh…”

“Maybe I need to make it bigger. Why does it keep leaking out?”

The man, who was already well-endowed beyond her wrist’s width, grumbled with dissatisfaction.

“If it gets any bigger, it won’t fit…!”

“Then maybe use that lower mouth properly. You can spit, so why not swallow too?”

“H-how could I even do that…?!”

Rona cried out with a distressed expression at the absurdity of it all. Anach patted her backside lightly, as if soothing a child.

“Just try harder. Remember what the priest said.”

He pressed his cheek against her thigh, now damp with fluids.

“He said the better you take in my seed, the more progress your condition will show.”

And he hadn’t been wrong.

Rona’s illness was… unusual. The way it developed and how to stop it from worsening—none of it followed any common rules.

Kama.

It was one of the rare afflictions passed to humans by the monstrous “creatures.” No one could predict which part of the body it would attack, and the pain varied daily.

I think today it was the ribs…

Before she realized what he was doing below, she vaguely remembered a sharp ache near her ribs.

Before that, it had been her heart. And before that, her head.

Because the location of the pain shifted constantly, conventional medicine or surgery was useless. The only way to prolong her life was to be infused with a concentrated essence carrying divine energy.

And the person who carried that power…

“If you let it leak out, the pain comes back. You need to keep it inside. Don’t waste it.”

…was her husband.

The warm fluid, smeared along her thighs, began to drip between her cheeks under the pull of gravity. Naturally, the man lowered his tongue and licked it up.

It didn’t feel like he was cleaning it—it felt more like he was smearing it back across her skin.

Rona shut her eyes tightly, finding the sight of his red tongue tracing lewd paths across her body too much to bear. The pain she’d felt earlier had long since vanished.

Just as Anach said—when she carried his seed inside her, the pain subsided.

But it wasn’t a real cure.

The divine essence simply stopped the pain and slowed the illness. It did not heal it.

So unless she continued to keep his essence within her, Rona would be thrown into unending agony. In that sense, yes… this really was a form of treatment.

Still…

“There aren’t many people in the Empire with divine ether.”

Why did it have to be him?

“I had to choose between the High Priest and me… and come on, you really want that old man’s wrinkled junk inside you? Right? No way.”

Why… him?

Rona looked up at Anach with eyes full of tears.

He didn’t look like a man whose wife had just asked for a divorce. He looked like a noble enjoying some twisted party—refined on the surface, but cold-blooded and shameless underneath.

There wasn’t a trace of concern or compassion for his ailing wife in that face. Only possession. And desire.

“…Why aren’t you answering? Don’t tell me… you’d rather take that old man’s filthy, stinking seed instead of mine?”

Rona bit her lip tightly and turned her gaze away.

“Answer me, Rona.” A pressing voice came from above, but she stayed silent. She didn’t want to answer.

It was as if he were asking, Are you really trying to leave me, when you can’t even survive on your own?

The answer was clear, but it felt like he wanted her to dwell on her miserable situation, which only deepened her despair.

As her nose turned red, Anak’s face slowly hardened, becoming cold.

He stared at her lower body with an intense gaze and bit down on her thigh.

“Ah!”

Startled by the pain, Rona reflexively looked at him. His gray eyes glinted with a chilling blue light, warning her.

“Maybe I need to ruin you so you won’t even consider getting close to another man?”

“Huh? What are you saying…?”

His threats continued, icy and unsettling.

“Or should I stretch you out so much you can’t even close up again? That way you’d be too ashamed to let anyone else near you.”

His calloused fingers pulled her open roughly, stretching the tender skin.

The inner flesh throbbed, as though on the verge of tearing from the strain.

Rona’s face turned pale.

Looking into his eyes, she could tell—he was serious.

She had heard stories that he once killed a creature with his bare hands. If he could do that, how easily could he hurt her?

As their eyes met, his gaze darkened like a thick mist.

“Speak. Or do you want me to really go that far?”

His cracked voice sounded like a final warning. The sheer fear made her forget her resistance.

Rona clung to his uniform, trembling.

“N-No… I don’t!”

“What don’t you?”

“O-Other men… I wouldn’t…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Fear had made her cling to him, but embarrassment held her tongue.

Anak slapped her ass, as if trying to snap her out of it.

“Ow!”

As the sting rushed through her, Rona squirmed, only for Anak to grip her tightly and scold her.

“You’re not a kid anymore. So why can’t you say it properly?”

“Hnngh…”

“Say it clearly, Rona.”

He demanded a clear answer, no matter how desperately she looked at him. Her tears didn’t soften him.

“You need to say it. Properly.”

Clearly agitated, he wasn’t going to let her go until she said exactly what he wanted.

“Hh… ngh…”

It felt like she was being torn apart. The sharp pain forced her to finally speak through sobs, her face burning with shame.

“N-No other man… I won’t…”

“What?”

“I won’t… let another man touch me…”

Tears flowed with her choked voice. Whether from shame or frustration, she didn’t know.

Anak stared quietly at her tear-streaked face before loosening his grip.

“So no one else is going to touch you like that, huh?”

She didn’t answer.

“I said, answer me.”

Smack! A harsh slap landed again. Before the next one could come, Rona quickly nodded.

“N-No one! I swear!”

She clung to him, pleading with a tear-streaked face. Her body felt sore and swollen—if this kept up, she wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days.

Seeing the desperation in her eyes, Anak finally loosened his hand and gently rubbed the spot he had struck.

“Ugh…”

“Then why do you keep talking about divorce when you have no plan?”

At his words, fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Still, he spoke with unwavering firmness.

“You don’t have any other option but me. Understand?”

His tone was relentless, almost like brainwashing.

And just like she’d been conditioned to respond only with agreement, Rona nodded unconsciously. Only then did Anak’s expression soften slightly.

He lowered his face toward her, as if rewarding her.

“Good. That’s better.”

“Don’t say that… while doing this…”

To her, it felt more like a punishment than praise.

“Really? You want me to stop? Even though your legs won’t stay still?”

His voice seemed to ripple through her, as though vibrating against her skin. Every nerve in her body focused downward.

Anak, clearly never interested in her answer, stuck out his tongue and slowly licked her.

“Ahh…!”

He cleaned her up slowly, like he was wiping away a mess. But no matter how much he did, the mess wouldn’t stop.

“Ah! Don’t! It’s… it’s dirty…”

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