The footsteps of the two deans outside the door finally faded into the distance, at last vanishing completely at the end of the corridor.
Wendy released the thoroughly limp, delicate body in his arms.
Laxana, left without support, slid down along his arm to the floor. The black fishnet garment on her body, soaked through with sweat and tears, clung tightly to every inch of still-trembling skin.
The ink marks and tear streaks on her face intertwined as she stared blankly at the mirror, which reflected a humiliation she would never forget for the rest of her life.
“Alright, the crisis is temporarily resolved.”
Wendy extended his hand, preparing to help up this nearly broken “art piece.”
“Astreia, let’s stop here for now. I’ll take her to the bathroom to clean up. If we keep playing, I’m afraid this ‘masterpiece’ will be completely ruined. Afterward, we can properly ‘discuss’…”
Before his hand could touch Laxana’s shoulder, a more slender, fairer hand reached out from the side and seized his wrist.
It was Astreia.
The Witch had somehow already positioned herself at the Prince’s side, those long beautiful legs wrapped in pink-purple pantyhose exuding a lethal allure.
“Wait.”
Astreia’s voice held a lazy trace of amusement, her gaze shifting. “Are you running from me?”
Wendy’s heart skipped a beat. Following her line of sight, he looked once more at the pitifully beautiful yet obscene scene before the mirror.
“Astreia, look at Laxana…”
The Prince gave a light cough, finding a perfect excuse. “She just recovered from Witch State, and after our combined ‘special correction,’ her body and mind are nearly at their limit… If she really breaks, wouldn’t that be too much of a waste?”
“Oh?”
Astreia let out a light laugh, that laughter brimming with the amusement of someone who saw through everything.
“You’re feeling sorry for her already?”
She released Wendy’s wrist, then used a delicate white fingertip to gently hook the Prince’s chin, forcing him to meet her eyes.
Warm breath, carrying the fresh scent of post-bath and the Witch’s unique sweetness, sprayed across Wendy’s face.
“Or is it…”
Astreia’s gaze slowly drifted downward, landing on Wendy’s slightly heaving chest, the curve of her lips growing ever more dangerous.
“My dear Prince, is it simply that… you can’t perform?”
This tease precisely stepped on a certain switch deep in Wendy’s heart. In any world, the most vicious attack on a man was questioning his “ability.”
Wendy’s expression changed instantly.
“Who says that?”
He retorted instinctively, then caught himself losing composure and switched to a devil-may-care smile.
“I just think the art of punishment lies in knowing when to tighten and when to loosen. Using only one method is far too monotonous.”
“Perfect.”
The smile on Astreia’s face deepened. “I think so too.”
She raised her hand, and the tip of her slender index finger began to condense a ball of light.
It was not an ordinary orb of magic power, but a constantly rotating, contracting deep purple-black vortex, within which tiny electric arcs jumped and burst, emanating an energy fluctuation that made the heart tremble.
“However, before we begin the next game… I need to replenish a little energy for my ‘main course.'”
Before the words finished, she gently pressed that purple-black vortex, condensed from pure Witch Power, onto the back of Wendy’s neck.
“Hiss—!”
An indescribably intense stimulation instantly exploded within Wendy’s body!
It was not a simple influx of energy.
It was a fusion of ice and fire, a paradox of destruction and rebirth.
A torrent of majestic power savagely scoured every meridian, every cell!
Wendy gasped sharply, his body uncontrollably tensing, from his toes to the tips of his hair, all trembling violently.
All the exhaustion, all the weakness from continuously “purifying” the two women earlier was, in this moment, utterly crushed to smithereens!
Replacing it was a savage sense of peak power!
Infinite strength filled every limb and bone!
The “beast” within him that had just fallen silent, after being irrigated by this surge of magic power, awakened in a more ferocious, more violent posture!
Wendy slowly lowered his head, looking at his own hands.
He even had the illusion that if he so wished, he could easily crush everything before his eyes.
“Now…”
Astreia’s red lips drew close to the Prince’s ear, her breath brushing against it, every word carrying lethal charm.
“I’ve fed you until you’re full.”
She paused, then pressed her knee, clad in those pink-purple pantyhose, gently against Wendy’s lower back.
“My Prince, what reason do you have left… to run from your Queen?”
Wendy’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently, and the voice squeezed from his throat was hoarse beyond recognition.
“If you want war… then war it is!”
His body moved faster than his brain, both hands reaching once more for those stocking-clad beautiful legs.
This time, however, Astreia did not dodge.
Instead, in a more provocative posture, she half-leaned into the Prince’s embrace.
A fragrant scent filled his arms.
Her fingertips slid across Wendy’s side, carrying a tingling electric current, guiding his wandering hand toward the back of her neck.
Then, Astreia took the opportunity to rest her head lightly on Wendy’s shoulder, her breath spraying against the Prince’s ear again and again.
“Then, let’s start from here.”
She whispered softly, her fingers teasingly stroking Wendy’s earlobe, issuing a beguiling invitation.
Wendy felt as though something in his head had exploded.
His hands, as if manipulated by invisible threads, followed Astreia’s guidance, slowly moving downward along her neck.
His palms brushed over the delicate hollow of her collarbone. Beneath the silky fabric of the bathrobe was even more delicate, warm skin. Every touch brought a string of electric tingles, allowing the magic power just injected into his body to find an outlet, becoming wilder, more unrestrained…
“W-wait…”
A faint voice suddenly cut in.
It was Laxana.
She had somehow already climbed up from the floor, kneeling in place, arms wrapped around her knees, her whole body curled into a ball. The ink on her face had dried, tear streaks crisscrossing, and her violet pupils were full of timidity and grievance.
She muttered under her breath, her tone carrying thick resentment.
“I… I’m still here…”
“Can you two… at least send me to the bathroom first… or give me a blanket…”
Laxana’s voice grew softer and softer, until it was almost inaudible.
She lowered her head, shoulders heaving, her entire being radiating an aura that made one’s heart ache.
Wendy froze.
Astreia froze too.
The two of them turned their heads simultaneously, looking at that pitiful figure huddled before the mirror.
The air once again fell into an eerie silence.
“Pfft—”
Wendy was the first to crack, bursting into laughter.
“Sorry, sorry, I forgot about you.”
He quickly broke free from Astreia’s embrace, walked over to Laxana, and reached out to help her up.
But Laxana smacked his hand away with a “smack.”
“Hmph!”
She turned her head away, refusing to look at Wendy.
“You two… you were bullying me so enthusiastically, and now you remember me?”
“I don’t want your help!”
With that, she stood up trembling on her own, stumbling toward the bathroom.
That appearance was indescribably pitiful and laughable.
Astreia, meanwhile, sat on the edge of the bed, legs elegantly crossed, watching this scene with great interest.
Wendy looked at her retreating figure, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
“Little Shanna, are you… throwing a tantrum?”
The Witch’s words carried obvious teasing.
“Yes! I am throwing a tantrum!”
Laxana stopped in her tracks, whipped around, and glared at Astreia.
“You… you were just about to draw a map of Central Academy on my body!”
“And you made Wendy… made him…”
Her face flushed red again, her voice growing softer.
“Anyway… anyway, you both bullied me!”
With that, she slammed the door with a “bang,” stumbling into the bathroom and shutting it heavily.
In the room, only Wendy and Astreia were left, staring at each other…