In the mental link, Fan Zhuo’s mind went completely blank for a moment.
First… the Initial Night?
He seriously suspected he was experiencing auditory hallucinations from excessive consumption of holy power.
“You… what did you say?” Fan Zhuo tried to gather his thoughts in his mind, attempting to confirm he hadn’t misunderstood.
Ye Ying’s voice carried a lazy hint of a smile, but if you listened closely, beneath that laughter… there was a faint tension she was desperately trying to hide, almost inaudible.
Transformation.
“Sigh… I said, my consultation fee is quite expensive.” She spoke each word deliberately, as if making a firm decision,
“As hush money for you deceiving the Inquisitor and spending a romantic night with the little Succubus, I want your… first time.”
“Did you understand, little virgin?”
Fan Zhuo’s heart pounded wildly.
Ye Ying’s tone wasn’t seductive, nor was it a joke.
The mental link fell silent for a moment, as if waiting for him to process everything.
“Fan Zhuo, do you know how much energy it takes to fool an Inquisitor, to create an ‘Heretic’ aura so real it’s indistinguishable from the real thing?”
Ye Ying’s voice rang out again, this time less enchanting and more serious.
Fan Zhuo listened quietly. He could feel subtle ripples stirring in Ye Ying’s spiritual world.
It was a mixture of teasing, seriousness, and even a trace of resolve as if she’d thrown caution to the wind.
“Our Fox Demon Clan possesses an ancient secret art.” Ye Ying’s voice became distant and solemn,
“Through… the male can receive a portion of the female’s demonic power and comprehension, while the female can use the male to cleanse her own demonic aura and complete the bloodline’s transformation.”
“And the most important thing in all of this is the ‘Initial Night.’”
“For a fox demon, the first time… is a brand upon the soul. The purest strand of essence will be etched deep within the soul for eternity.”
“From then on, your aura will exert a fatal attraction on me, and my power will be completely, unreservedly open to you alone…”
“So, my little Cleric.” Ye Ying’s voice regained that enchanting tone, but this time, Fan Zhuo could hear the sincerity within.
“Are you willing to accept?”
Fan Zhuo wasn’t stupid; he understood the weight of Ye Ying’s words.
This was no mere “recharge” or “transaction”—it was practically a Soul Contract Ritual.
He thought of Milina, who might enter her heat tonight.
If he couldn’t get Lucien out of the way, both himself and the rookie succubus in heat would be exposed to extreme danger.
He also recalled Lucien’s impossible task of being promoted to Bishop within a month.
If he could complete this “ritual” with Ye Ying, his strength would surely take a tremendous leap forward.
The temptation was enormous, but the price…
Was to surrender the purity he’d maintained through two lifetimes.
Was that really a price?
Wasn’t it a heavenly benefit?!
Images of countless “cultural works” he’d seen before crossing over flashed through Fan Zhuo’s mind.
Other protagonists always got to conquer this one and that one—why was he the one being conquered now?
And it was a buy-one-get-one-free deal, double the pleasure… No, double the “juicing” risk.
Besides… tonight he might have to face a succubus in heat…
He could almost foresee that if he really did this tonight, he wouldn’t even have the strength to get out of bed tomorrow.
But the greater the risk, the greater the reward.
As long as he could handle troublesome Lucien next door, he’d have at least several days of freedom.
By then, whether it was “soothing” Milina or consolidating his own power, he could do so with ease.
In his mind, Fan Zhuo uttered one word.
On the other end of the mental link, Ye Ying’s breath clearly hitched, as if she hadn’t expected him to agree so readily.
And perhaps, she wasn’t fully prepared yet…
After a brief pause, her silvery bell-like laughter rang out again. This time, however, there was a trace of relieved lightness in it.
“Since you’ve agreed, of course your big sister won’t be stingy.” Ye Ying’s tone grew lively,
“If you want to create the aura of a ‘heretic,’ it’s simple. Go to the Heart of the Forest now, and find the largest ancient tree, the one the tree spirits call the ‘Mother Tree.’”
“And then?”
“Then, use your impure holy power to ‘contaminate’ it.”
“Contaminate?” Fan Zhuo was taken aback.
“That’s right,” Ye Ying explained,
“Your holy power is special—it’s sacred, but also has a unique affinity for us ‘non-humans.’”
“Even if that Inquisitor investigates, he’ll only think some heretic is desecrating the Holy Light with some evil ritual. He’d never imagine a priest was behind it.”
Fan Zhuo listened in utter shock. This move… was just too daring.
“All right, go quickly, my little Cleric.”
Ye Ying’s voice brimmed with urgency and a hint of impatience. “Big sister… needs to start preparing for our ritual tonight.”
“You don’t want… to make your sister wait too long, do you?”
Her final words were barely above a whisper, laden with suggestion, making Fan Zhuo’s heart itch uncontrollably.
Fan Zhuo took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and severed the mental link.
He stood up, brushed the dust from his body, and gazed into the depths of the forest.
Ye Ying’s plan was close to perfect, but carrying it out would still be extremely risky.
He had to “contaminate” the “Mother Tree” without alarming anyone.
And he had to control the strength of the energy just right—to attract Lucien, but not draw too much attention from the “moving sun” of District A.
And… what worried Fan Zhuo most was…
The tree spirits and flower sprites here were all top-tier beauties. As their origin, what kind of form would the “Mother Tree” have?
Fan Zhuo swallowed hard.
He gripped the holy bell Lucien had given him and strode toward the Heart of the Forest.
***
Half an hour later, at the Heart of the Forest.
When Fan Zhuo parted the last curtain of hanging vines, the sight before him made his breath hitch.
It was a tree beyond description.
Its crown blotted out the sky and sun, its massive trunk covered with ancient, gentle patterns, countless vines cascading down like waterfalls.
Yet what truly captivated Fan Zhuo’s eyes was the center of the trunk.
There, instead of rough bark, was a giant female form, perfectly fused with the trunk!
Her curves were soft and lush, radiating a maternal glow.
The “Mother Tree’s” eyes were tightly closed, her face tranquil and kind, as if lost in slumber.
This was… the Mother Tree?
Fan Zhuo’s Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily.
As if sensing his arrival, the Mother Tree’s eyelids fluttered slightly, then slowly opened.
“Strange… child…”
A gentle, spring-like voice echoed in Fan Zhuo’s mind,
“You carry… a scent that makes the forest… feel at ease…”
Fan Zhuo could feel she held no malice toward him—only curiosity and a faint… long-lost joy.
And it was true.
The “Mother Tree” had not seen a male for countless years on this secluded island, let alone one like Fan Zhuo, who radiated such a peculiar “unsanctified” aura.
The Mother Tree’s awakening left Fan Zhuo momentarily at a loss.
How was he supposed to “contaminate” the Mother Tree?
Just walk up and say, “Hi, Moth… uh, beauty, could I borrow your body to cause a little commotion?”
Um… he’d probably be squashed into pulp on the spot…