“Ugh~~~”
The unfortunate Prince was once again strangled by the throat of fate.
This time, he could no longer hold back and let out a groan—a dreadful sound mixed with pain and an unsettling pleasure.
For a moment, Wendy couldn’t tell whether the shiver rising from deep within his throat was from the suffocating pain or the perverse pleasure of being taunted under such cruel attention.
But he snapped back to reality immediately, knowing this was no time to awaken some strange new ability. He painfully squeezed out a few words through clenched teeth: “A-Astreia! Don’t let desire… cloud your eyes!”
Astreia—or rather, the “Witch” in this moment—tightened the five fingers strangling his neck inch by inch.
In her bewitching eyes reflected the prince’s sickly flushed face from lack of oxygen, and that even more enticingly beautiful countenance.
“Hehehe… desire?”
The Witch’s low laughter echoed through the forest, carrying a magnetic charm that seeped into the bones.
“My dear Prince, don’t you… really like this?”
She leaned closer, warm breath exhaling onto Wendy’s ear.
“You say no with your mouth, but your body’s being honest~”
“Look at you, your face is all flushed, and even your eyes are shimmering with tears… such a little hypocrite.”
“Or perhaps you’ve secretly been waiting for me to treat you like this all along? Hmm?”
The Witch pressed her nose against Wendy’s, her entire aura dripping with decadent fragrance.
“Don’t pretend. I can see right through your little thoughts…”
“You’re just a little roasted chicken yearning to be ravaged and broken~”
“!!!”
Wendy’s mind went blank, buzzing like a hornet’s nest disturbed by those predatory words.
He stared at the face before him, both familiar and strange, with those bewitching eyes reflecting his own disheveled, yet inexplicably excited, expression.
Shame and excitement surged through his entire body in an instant!
However, just as the prince thought this was merely another round of “foreplay,” the Witch’s expression suddenly changed without warning.
In a flash, a familiar emerald green flickered in her purple eyes. Her expression shifted slowly as the wild aura began to subside.
“Wendy? Just now…”
Astreia looked down at the hand still clutching the prince’s neck and immediately released it, apologizing, “I’m sorry! I… did it again…”
Before she could finish, her eyes flashed with that eerie purple light once more, emerald and violet intertwining.
“No… I can’t hurt him anymore…”
Astreia fought desperately to suppress the desire.
“Why suppress it? Isn’t this fun?”
The Witch fought back wildly.
Yet, in the end, the Witch’s persona prevailed.
The princess’s face twisted fiercely, purple flames swirling within her gaze.
“Since you don’t mind at all, I’ll satisfy you!”
Before Wendy could react, the Witch pushed him down onto the ground.
“Wait! Astreia! We’re outside!”
Wendy’s face was filled with terror, yet his body was conflicted, resisting yet welcoming.
“Outside, so what?”
The Witch licked her lips, teasing, “I’ll make sure everyone hears this. Isn’t that romantic?”
Thus.
In the small grove beside the stable, a fierce “battle” began.
Wendy’s pleas and the Witch’s coquettish laughter drifted on the night wind, spreading throughout Sunset Fortress.
The soldiers who had just settled into peaceful sleep were woken once again, eyes bloodshot as they tossed and turned in bed.
“Oh god…” a young female soldier covered her face, “Why did they have to go outside? This noise… I can’t take it anymore!”
That night, the garrison of Sunset Fortress, who had just enjoyed a day of peace, once again fell into endless torment.
The decadent sounds, as if penetrating walls and drilling into souls, were even longer, crazier, and more… blood-racing than before.
Veteran soldiers silently stuffed cloths into their ears, turned over, and forced themselves to imagine what they would eat tomorrow.
The younger soldiers spent sleepless nights tossing and turning.
Their reverence for the Crown Princess and the Prince of the Fallen Kingdom reached unprecedented heights that night.
Too strong… Both Their Highnesses were just too strong!
***
The next morning.
Because this time the witch transformation was incomplete, and thanks to Wendy’s tireless all-night “physical purification” by feeding the witch, Astreia finally recovered from her fallen state.
At this moment, the princess lay like a giant ostrich, silent and still atop the prince, burying her flushed face deeply in the soft blankets.
Shy and stubborn, she refused to come out.
Here we go again.
Once more… disregarding Wendy’s wishes and forcing him.
Thinking of those frenzied scenes, of that tear-soaked yet strangely enchanting face, Astreia felt mortified to the point of wanting to die, as if she no longer had the courage to face her beloved.
Yet Wendy was surprisingly refreshed.
Though thoroughly exhausted, having absorbed a whole night’s worth of pure magical energy, his mind and body reached an unprecedented peak.
He could even clearly feel himself slowly being transformed by this power—becoming more… resilient?
“Alright, stop sulking,” the prince teased, twisting a lock of her pale gold hair between his fingers, “If you don’t come out soon, my purity is really going to suffocate from you hiding.”
The body under the blanket stiffened noticeably.
“Honestly, your skills last night… improved a lot compared to last time. There were a few positions I quite liked,” Wendy whispered by the princess’s ear with a teasing tone.
“But can you be gentler next time? Look at these bite marks on me—I swear, if someone didn’t know better, they’d think I’d been attacked by a dog~”
The blanket was suddenly yanked off!
Astreia, her golden hair disheveled, crawled out from under the covers.
Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks still flushed, and she stared straight at Wendy with an unprecedented seriousness.
“Wendy, be honest with me… do you like me when I’m normal, or do you prefer me… fallen and turned into a Witch?”
The prince’s hand twisting her hair froze midair.
This was it.
A question more dangerous than “If I fell into water with your mother, who would you save first?”
Answering that he liked her normal self would be denying her strength and allure after the fall, potentially making Astreia think he despised the uncontrolled, burning love she possessed.
Answering that he preferred her fallen self would be even worse.
It would encourage Astreia to abandon morality and sink completely into desire.
What if one day she really did turn him into a “puppet prince”?
Then he’d have nowhere to cry.
No matter how he answered, it was a dead end.
Looking into Astreia’s stubborn eyes, which clearly demanded an answer today, Wendy’s mind raced.
Seconds later, the prince hid his usual playboy expression and gave a helpless yet indulgent smile.
Instead of answering directly, he reached out to gently wipe away the tear streaks on the princess’s cheek.
“Astreia, you take the word ‘fallen’ too seriously…”