“Sa-Sorry, General Sera…”
When Sera arrived on the third floor, gripping her warhammer and seething with anger, she was met with a bizarre sight.
Cara, the Knight who was usually strict and unsmiling in her duties, was now swaying at the door like a stalk of straw battered by a three-day storm, barely holding herself upright.
Sera’s single eye narrowed.
This child… something’s wrong.
Cara’s delicate face, always taut, was now as white as paper. Bloodshot webs crept across her eyes, the sockets deeply sunken as if she hadn’t slept for days.
Her trademark short white hair was disheveled, a few strands clinging to her forehead, soaked by cold sweat.
The kingdom’s standard-issue armor—once polished to a shine, symbolizing honor and discipline—hung loosely on her frame, as if it might slip off her trembling body at any moment.
“Her Highness ordered me… to stand guard here,”
Cara’s voice trembled so much it was almost incoherent, but she still gripped her long-handled battle axe, blocking the door with determination.
“Y-You can’t go in!”
Her tone was resolute.
Sera’s brows knit tighter.
She could faintly hear disturbing, seductive sounds from inside the room, and when she looked at Cara’s pitiful state, a wave of nameless fury surged to her head.
This is absurd!
Leaving a young girl to stand guard here, listening to those kinds of sounds?
What is this? Mental torture?
She was about to scold someone, but her gaze accidentally dropped to Cara’s feet.
The stone tiles there were a shade darker than the rest, as if some liquid had spilled and hadn’t completely dried.
Sera’s battle-hardened heart clenched instantly.
She understood everything.
Poor child… forced to stand here, unable to move, tormented by the sounds inside, so much that even her physical needs…
Sera let out a long sigh, her anger melting into a wave of pity.
She had spent her life on the battlefield, familiar with death, but couldn’t bear to see her own people suffer such humiliation.
“Cara, listen,”
She softened her tone, a rare gentleness entering her voice.
“You’ve done enough. Now, go get some sleep. I’ll stand guard here.”
She patted her breastplate, making a firm promise.
“Don’t worry, I won’t disturb Her Highness.”
To Sera, this was the greatest act of compassion a superior could offer.
However, Cara’s reaction was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
Her red eyes widened in alarm, and she tensed up.
“No! I’m not tired!”
She nearly screamed, her voice hoarse and trembling, but burning with fanatical fervor.
“General Sera, please go rest! I… I’m very happy guarding here! Very happy! Please don’t make me leave!!!”
Her bloodshot eyes glimmered with a scarlet intensity that words couldn’t describe.
That expression held no pain—only the terror and desperation of someone in paradise, terrified of being thrown out.
“……”
Sera looked at the clearly deranged white-haired Deputy Commander, her facial muscles twitching uncontrollably.
It’s over.
This one’s broken, too.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling a nerve—one that had survived countless orc sieges—finally snap with a resounding “pop”.
“Sigh…”
She shook her head helplessly, turned without a word, and left.
In this state, persuading Cara was pointless.
This child… is beyond saving.
If she stayed any longer, she feared she’d smash that cursed door with her hammer.
After a moment, the corridor was quiet once more.
As Sera’s figure disappeared, Cara’s tensed body finally relaxed, and she slumped to the floor, leaning against the cold door, barely keeping herself upright.
“Whew…”
She exhaled with satisfaction, then pressed her ear even closer to the door’s gap.
Inside, those burning, wild, desperate pleas and moans twined together—a symphony of ecstasy—flowed into her ears with crystal clarity.
A dazed, almost transcendent smile spread across Cara’s exhausted face.
Her body felt mired in exhaustion, but her spirit soared through the clouds.
She was already a ruined Cara… beyond saving.
***
Time slipped by quietly amidst the strange, noisy atmosphere of Sunset Fortress.
Five full days.
Wendy and Astreia, like two tireless beasts, lost themselves in a paradise made only for the two of them.
They cast off every shackle called “shame”, let primal fire run wild, and burned away all reason and morality.
Five days later, as the first rays of morning sunlight crept through the curtains, illuminating the chaos of the room—
Wendy gazed in satisfaction at the sleeping Witch in his arms.
The last streak of crimson Magic Pattern beneath Astreia’s chest had faded completely. Her skin regained its healthy honeyed glow.
It was a success.
By his strength alone, he had dragged a nearly lost Demon God back from the abyss.
The Curse had been temporarily suppressed.
And at the moment the Magic Pattern vanished, Astreia’s long lashes fluttered, and she slowly awoke.
All the wildness, distortion, and sick possessiveness in her eyes were gone.
What remained was the familiar, clear, resolute emerald gaze.
The “Northern Lioness” had returned.
But as Astreia, now herself again, saw the scene before her, her entire body froze.
She saw Wendy’s handsome face curved in a teasing smile.
She saw their naked closeness.
She saw herself wearing a mortifying Bunny Girl Costume with nothing in between.
“Boom——!”
The memories of five days of madness and delirium flooded back, overwhelming her reason.
Astreia suddenly remembered how she’d done such unspeakable things to Wendy in front of thousands of soldiers.
How she’d used sickly sweet words to torment him…
How she’d acted like a she-demon, ravaging him again and again…
“Ah!!!”
Astreia’s face blazed instantly, crimson spreading from her cheeks to her ears, down her long neck, and over her whole body.
“I’m sorry!”
She sprang from Wendy’s arms, tumbled out of bed, and buried her head, platinum hair cascading down to hide her mortified expression.
“Wendy! I-I’m sorry! It’s all my fault!”
Her voice was barely audible, each word trembling with remorse.
“I… I went too far! I can’t believe I… did those things to you…”
Humility, etiquette, justice, righteousness—the Knightly Code she’d once prided herself on and fought for all her life—had been trampled underfoot by her own hands during her Witch transformation.
She couldn’t even look Wendy in the eyes.
“Please… please punish me severely!”
Astreia buried her head even deeper, her voice filled with repentant resolve.
But the moment she finished speaking—
“Pfft——”
With a soft sound, the Bunny Girl Costume—formed by Witch magic—lost its power and dissolved into light, vanishing in the air.
In an instant, Astreia was completely naked.
Her powerful, voluptuous form was revealed without a trace of concealment.
Honeyed skin, toned muscles, and proud “hemispheres” enough to drive any man insane—all displayed the unique charm of the “Northern Lioness”.
The air froze.
“Yaaahhhhhh!!!”
Like a startled fawn, Astreia crossed her arms to cover herself and, in a panic, dove back into the blankets, wrapping herself into a trembling spring roll from head to toe.
Wendy leaned against the bedhead, watching the shivering ostrich-bundle in the sheets with growing amusement.
Now this was more like it.
This was the Astreia he knew—pure, clumsy, and so adorable he wanted to tease her.
Witchification was terrifying, but not without its upsides.
At least, it allowed him to see the truest, most unguarded side of the Northern Lioness.
Wendy reached out and patted the lump through the blanket.
“Astreia,”
His voice was lazy and teasing.
“Did you just… ask me to punish you?”
The “spring roll” quivered.
Astreia knew that in Wendy’s mouth, “punishment” was absolutely, definitely not the kind she imagined.
But this time, now that she was fully awake, how was she supposed to face Wendy’s “excessive” demands?
The Princess Royal buried her face in the pillow, her heart threatening to leap out of her throat.
A mixture of shame, fear, and a tiny spark of anticipation—one even she couldn’t admit—quietly took root in her chest…