Fan Zhuo walked into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
The thick oak wood blocked out all outside sounds, and also shielded him from the gaze—slowly cast his way from the sofa in the living room—of that Perfect Doll Maid, a look he could not decipher.
He didn’t immediately lie down next to Milina, but sat on the other side of the bed, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink into the spiritual world.
The Holy Power that had once been a trickling stream had now gathered into a shimmering, rippling lake.
But this lake was far from calm.
At the lakeside, a gigantic Sakura Tree stirred without wind, every petal radiating the alluring yet faintly sorrowful aura of a fox spirit’s night sakura.
Its roots plunged deep into the lakebed, as if determined to claim this holy realm as its own.
Deep within the lake, several purple vines—symbols of primal desire—grew quietly. These belonged to the succubus Milina’s mark: wild, greedy, yet tinged with a certain clumsy innocence, carefully unfurling their branches and leaves.
Floating above the entire lake’s surface was a faint, perfectly pure pink glow. This was the Slime Queen Alfea’s complete trust and reliance, gently soothing the discord between those two invasive powers.
Demonic power, magic, life force…
All these powers, originating from different nonhuman girls, were forcibly refined and fused in the crucible of his [Holy Imprint], finally merging into a new, even more inclusive and malleable holy force.
He tried to command it; the Holy Power responded docilely, pure and powerful.
But when he attempted to draw out those more aggressive qualities that accompanied the fox spirit and succubus, he found that part of the holy power was like a sleeping beast, lying dormant deep within his mind, impossible to rouse easily.
Still not working…
It seemed that hoping to fight with this “tainted” holy power was still too soon.
“But, this is only the beginning…”
Fan Zhuo let out a long, turbid breath. He had a hunch that when he could truly master these peculiar holy powers, his strength would leap to a whole new level.
He opened his eyes and slowly lay down.
Just as his body was about to touch the soft mattress, Milina—curled up under the covers—shivered ever so slightly like a startled kitten.
In the darkness, that pinkish-purple contract imprint stretching from her flat lower belly to the top of her thigh glowed with an intensely tempting light, as if…
As if silently calling to its true master.
Milina had her back to him, body slightly curled, letting out a helpless, coquettish, and longing moan from deep in her throat.
She wasn’t fully asleep, but immersed in a half-dream, half-awake, desire-ignited trance.
Fan Zhuo could feel it too.
Once that thing on Milina sensed his approach, it would create an inexplicable “pull,” as if just a brush of contact would draw him in completely and leave him craving more.
Clearly, this damned contract imprint had given her… a purely physical dependence on him.
And Fan Zhuo had experienced that suction before—it was far from ordinary…
The next moment, Milina’s soft body, like a vine, slowly slid over to him, tightly wrapping around his arm as if instinctively seeking warmth.
“Fan Zhuo…” she murmured drowsily, her slender fingers subconsciously gripping his collar, her long legs winding around him, her warm skin pressing close through the thin pajama fabric.
The imprint seemed to be burning her, drawing all her thoughts and instincts toward Fan Zhuo, her only “antidote.”
A hard-to-describe heat rushed straight to Fan Zhuo’s head.
He was certainly struggling to endure.
The aura Milina exuded, mixed with the innate magical allure of a succubus that could stir the deepest desires of the soul, for him… it was the perfect supplement.
But he still remembered that Baitu was just on the sofa in the living room.
Even though today he’d half-publicly let Baitu “observe” from the side, at this moment, reason still reminded him to restrain himself.
Otherwise, if any sound reached the living room…
“Can… can you hold me while I sleep?”
Milina’s voice grew even softer, tinged with a hint of pleading and innocence, yet overflowing with the succubus’ natural charm.
Her body pressed tightly to his, those supple, long legs clamping him so he couldn’t move.
Her body was as soft as the finest silk, every inch of skin whispering an invitation, her breath growing rapid and warm.
Every rise and fall felt like a delicate electric current crawling over his skin, sending waves of unbearable tingles through him.
That pinkish-purple contract imprint, sensing Milina’s longing, grew even hotter, as if urging him to respond to this call from the depths of her soul.
..Sigh.
Fan Zhuo sighed helplessly in his heart, but finally reached out his other arm and drew the troublesome little enchantress into his embrace.
The first thing he noticed was her softness—the perfect curve of her waist fit perfectly into his palm.
Fan Zhuo could feel Milina’s trembling, a mixture of shyness and an intense yearning for his presence.
He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, inhaling her sweet and pure scent, feeling the Holy Power within him passively and slowly grow.
Yet, how could he possibly sleep like this?
With the warmth and softness in his arms, Milina unconsciously wriggled closer, letting out tiny, suppressed whimpers.
The area around her “contract imprint” radiated a startling heat, each sensation stirring his nerves as a holy priest, nerves which had long since ceased to be “holy.”
Fan Zhuo’s other hand landed on Milina’s waist…
***
On the sofa in the living room, Baitu lay quietly.
Although she was in rest mode, she hadn’t truly entered sleep.
Baitu’s long, pink, art-like fingers were unconsciously curled… her legs slightly crossed…
Her core temperature… was rising along a most unnatural curve.
A sleepless night.
Fan Zhuo, in a daze between dreams and wakefulness, felt as if he’d experienced a long, drawn-out tug of war.
The contract imprint was like a greedy energy converter, madly absorbing Holy Power and then feeding back even purer energy.
Fan Zhuo felt himself passing back and forth between waking and unconsciousness.
Though this “unconsciousness” was not true rest, the contract imprint’s properties nourished his stamina efficiently, even pushing his Holy Power reserves up another level.
He opened his eyes to see Milina kneeling on the bed, a fair finger poking curiously at his… face.
“Mm… still warm…”
Seeing him wake, Milina shrank her hand back like a startled rabbit, her cheeks instantly flushing red.
“I… I didn’t mean to! I just… I just wanted to see if you were still alive…” Her voice held a trace of shyness, a hint of grievance, and just a bit of embarrassment at being caught.
“So you do remember… to check if I’m still alive, huh…”