Fear twisted Elias's stomach as the demon's words echoed in his mind. Every possible thing Lyris might force him to do clawed at his thoughts, one darker than the last. His body trembled, breath shallow, hands shaking as he took a step back.
"I—it was you," Elias said, his voice breaking as he pointed at the throne. "Not me. You were the one who looked at Alessia when she was changing. You were the one who stole her underwear." His teeth clenched. "You're the evil one. Not me."
His chest rose sharply as anger mixed with shame. "I'm going to throw them away," he added, almost desperate. "Before anyone finds out."
Lyris smiled.
Not wide. Not cruel.
Amused.
"Only me?" he asked lightly, tilting his head. The way he said it made Elias's skin crawl. As if the answer was obvious. As if Elias was lying—to him and to himself.
"Stop pretending, boy," Lyris continued, his voice smooth and sharp at the same time. "We both know what happens when you see a body like hers. That heat. That rush. It drives you mad
I know you cock throbbing hard imagining ripping her armor off to squeeze those massive milk-heavy tits until creamy nectar sprays your face while her thick warrior thighs wrap your waist begging deep pounding."
Elias's eyes widened.
Rage flared, sudden and violent.
"What did you just say?" he shouted. "You bastard!"
The words were barely out before Elias rushed forward, every ounce of strength pouring into his fist. He didn't think. He didn't hesitate. He just wanted to hit him—to shut that voice up, even for a second.
As Elias closed the distance—
Lyris slowly looked up.
His eyes glowed deep red.
There was a heavy thud—
And the world flipped.
Elias's body was thrown back like a broken doll. He slammed hard into the stone wall behind him, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Cracks spread where his body hit, dust raining down as he slid to the floor.
Pain exploded through him.
He screamed.
Blood burst from his mouth as he coughed violently, the taste of iron filling his throat. His chest burned, his limbs shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to breathe.
The mirror hall echoed with his ragged gasps.
And above it all—
Lyris's calm presence remained untouched.
Waiting.
Watching.
Lyris walked toward him slowly.
Unhurried.
As if Elias wasn't coughing blood against the wall, as if nothing had just happened.
One hand rested casually behind his back. With the other, he raised a finger and began to move it side to side.
"No… no… no…" Lyris said softly, clicking his tongue with mock disappointment.
"My innocent boy, Elias… no."
He stepped closer.
"Don't ever try that again," he continued calmly. "You can't even touch me."
Elias's body shook as he tried to lift his head. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the floor beneath him. His chest burned with every breath, but his eyes still held defiance.
"I know," Elias coughed, forcing the words out. "I know I can't touch you."
He spat blood to the side and looked up at Lyris with tired, burning eyes.
"But I don't care," he said weakly. "Because I know you won't kill me. If you wanted me dead… you would've done it long ago."
For a moment, Lyris simply stared at him.
Then he smiled.
"A very smart boy," Lyris said approvingly. "That's exactly why I like you."
But the smile faded.
His eyes darkened.
Cold.
"However," he continued quietly, "I never said I wouldn't kill the people you care about."
Elias's breath hitched.
Lyris leaned slightly forward, his voice almost gentle.
"The reason you came here," he said. "Your precious people. Your new friends."
He counted them slowly, as if savoring each name.
"Hailee."
"Aron."
"Alessia."
Then his lips curled again.
"And… your dear sister, Elizabeth."
Elias's eyes widened in horror.
"How will you feel," Lyris went on calmly, "when I kill them one by one—using your hands?
"When you watch everything happen… and can do nothing?"
He straightened, his gaze sharp.
"Because you are weak."
Tears spilled from Elias's eyes.
"Please… no!" he cried out desperately. "Leave them alone, you bastard!"
Lyris laughed softly.
"I like your anger," he said. "Such courage inside a pathetic mortal body."
Elias's voice trembled as another thought forced its way out.
"Then why don't you just do it yourself?" he asked hoarsely. "Kill my soul. Take my body. Why keep me alive?"
Lyris's expression changed—not angry, not amused.
Thoughtful.
"That's the problem," he said slowly. "I can't."
Elias stared at him.
"Your body," Lyris continued, "is… special. I don't know why, but I can't take full control of it. I've tried." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Even leaving your body isn't possible."
He looked down at Elias.
"For now," he said calmly, "I need you."
Elias's heart pounded.
"And what I want," Lyris finished, "is for you to help me regain all my power."
Elias lay there, broken and trembling, realizing something terrifying—
Lyris wasn't just using him.
Lyris needed him.
And that made everything far more dangerous.
Lyris turned away from Elias and walked back toward the throne.
Each step echoed softly through the mirror hall.
He sat down slowly, crossing one leg over the other, resting his arm against the side of the throne like a king settling into comfort.
"Alright," he said casually.
"Let's make a deal."
Elias lifted his head slightly, pain still tearing through his body. His eyes were filled with confusion… and disbelief.
"A… deal?" he whispered.
Lyris looked at him with calm amusement.
"I know what you want to accomplish," he said. "And you know very well that it's impossible with that weak, fragile mortal body of yours."
A faint, cruel smile formed on his lips.
"But I can help you."
Elias's breath stopped.
Lyris continued, his voice smooth and confident.
"I can lend you my power. My strength. My influence."
"I can make sure you achieve what you came here for."
For a brief moment—
Hope flickered inside Elias's chest.
It was small. Dangerous. Desperate.
He hated it.
Because even as that hope appeared, every part of him screamed that this path was wrong.
Lyris noticed.
He always noticed.
"In return," Lyris said calmly, "you help me with what I want."
Elias stared at him, fear tightening his chest.
"What… do you want?" he asked carefully.
Lyris's eyes gleamed.
"There will be rules," he said. "A bond. Like chains."
He smiled slightly.
"You already know what happens when chains are broken."
The mirrors around them darkened, reflecting Elias's growing fear.
"I want this place," Lyris continued, spreading his arms slightly, "to fall into sin."
"A beautiful, overflowing harem."
"I want to corrupt purity. To awaken desire where none existed."
His voice grew softer.
"The more I do that… the stronger I become."
Elias's hands clenched.
Rage surged through him.
"No," he said sharply. "That will never happen. I will never help you commit such sin."
Lyris's smile vanished.
His eyes turned cold.
"You don't have a choice," he said quietly.
The air thickened instantly.
"If you refuse," Lyris continued, "everyone you love—everyone you care about—will die."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And they won't die by my hands."
Elias's breath caught.
"They will die by yours."
Fear swallowed Elias whole.
His body trembled as he stared at the being on the throne, realizing the truth—
This wasn't a negotiation.
It was a cage.
And the door was already closing.
Lyris leaned back against the throne, completely relaxed.
"As I said," he continued calmly, "this is a deal."
The mirrors reflected his face from every angle—each one wearing the same confident expression.
"Rule one," he said, raising a finger.
"You will release my thick demon cum at least once a week—jerking your cock hard to secret peeks of women's naked bodies, stealing their soaked panties to sniff pussy musk while stroking, or fingering stolen bras imagining squeezing bare tits until milk leaks."
Elias swallowed.
"If you fail," Lyris went on casually, "one random soul from Sancthorn dies."
He smiled slightly.
"And the next time, the requirement doubles."
Elias's eyes trembled.
"Once becomes twice a day," Lyris explained. "Fail again, and two people die. Then four. Then more."
His tone was almost gentle.
"Simple balance."
Elias shook his head slowly, unable to speak.
"Rule two," Lyris said, his voice lowering.
"Every month, you must do sexual things with a woman's body."
"Rule three," he said coldly, raising another finger.
"You cannot do anything more than twice with the same woman, her stuff, or her body. After two times, find two new women before returning to her—keep the corruption spreading fresh, or the deaths multiply."
"And just like before," he said, "the numbers will increase."
Elias's chest tightened painfully.
"If you refuse," Lyris continued, "someone you love will die."
"Not immediately," he added. "I want you to feel the time passing."
The throne creaked softly as Lyris leaned forward.
"And just like before," he said, "the numbers will increase."
Elias's vision blurred.
"And if you try to run," Lyris said calmly.
"If you try to resist the bond… or break the deal…"
The mirrors darkened.
"I will take full control of your body," he said quietly.
"And I will slaughter everyone."
Silence crushed the room.
Lyris straightened.
"In return," he added, "no one dies."
"And I help you achieve what you came here for."
Elias stared at the floor.
His mind refused to move.
His heart felt trapped between terror and guilt.
"I…" he whispered.
"I… don't know…"
The words felt hollow.
Because deep down—
He already knew.
Lyris's smile returned.
Slow. Certain.
Before Elias could react, the demon lifted a single finger.
The air bent.
Elias's body rose helplessly from the ground and was pulled forward, drawn toward the throne as if the space itself obeyed Lyris's will. Panic surged through him, but his limbs refused to move.
"Easy," Lyris said calmly.
He reached out and tapped Elias's forehead—lightly, almost gently.
The moment his finger touched—
Everything shattered.
Elias was no longer in the mirror hall.
He stood inside a vision.
A memory twisted into something else.
Alessia was there.
Too close.
Too real.
Her presence filled the space around him, her warmth, her breath, the faint scent he remembered but never allowed himself to think about. His heart began to race violently, his thoughts blurring as emotions he had always buried clawed their way to the surface.
In this vision Elias saw himself pinning Alessia face-down on dining table, yanking her armor plates apart to expose massive leaking tits slapping stone while ripping stolen panties aside and slamming balls-deep into her dripping mature pussy, her warrior ass cheeks rippling with every brutal thrust as milk squirts puddle beneath them. Where she was enjoying this and behaviour like a whore.
Shame. Desire. Confusion.
Not actions—
Feelings.
Raw. Uncontrolled.
Elias tried to turn away, tried to scream, but the vision held him in place. His pulse thundered in his ears, his body reacting against his will as unfamiliar sensations spread through him.
Elias doing very rough sex with Alessia's body—choking her ponytail to yank head back forcing gagging moans while pounding her slick cunt walls raw, thick cock stretching her holy warrior hole until she squirts creamy nectar down his shaft mixing with his building demon seed.
Lyris's voice echoed inside the vision, smooth and amused.
"Just like this," he whispered.
"You don't need to act."
"You only need to feel."
The images intensified—suggestive, overwhelming, pressing against Elias's mind rather than his body. Every heartbeat grew louder. Every breath came faster.
"Remember how it felt," Lyris continued softly.
"The closeness. The temptation."
"The things you pretend don't affect you."
Elias's thoughts spiraled.
New emotions—dark, frightening, intoxicating—coiled inside his chest. Something unfamiliar awakened, something he didn't want, something he feared.
His heartbeat spiked.
Too fast.
Too loud.
"Good," Lyris said, satisfied.
"That feeling… that's the door."
Suddenly—
Darkness.
The vision collapsed instantly, like a candle blown out.
Elias's body fell.
Hard.
He gasped sharply as reality slammed back into him.
Cold stone beneath his back.
Real air in his lungs.
Voices.
"Elias!"
He blinked rapidly, his vision struggling to focus.
Two figures stood over him.
Aron was kneeling beside him, his face pale with fear.
Ivan stood nearby, fists clenched, anger burning in his eyes.