Chapter - 69

Leo lay back on the disheveled bed, staring blankly at the painted cherubs on the high ceiling. His body was relaxed, sinking into the soft mattress, but his mind was running laps.

It had been a week of wins. He had money, he had stats that made him a superhuman compared to the average guard, and he had the most beautiful woman in the territory warming his bed every night. But the gamer in him was itching.

He was stuck.

The Main Quest, [The Matriarch's Vengeance], was a brick wall. Lord Caelum, the cowardly bastard, had barricaded himself in his study or surrounded himself with a dozen guards at all times. The man was paranoid. There was no opening to slip a knife in his ribs without triggering the entire City Watch and losing his sweet setup here.

"Boring," Leo sighed, the sound echoing in the large room. "I need a catalyst. I need someone to do something stupid so I can kill them."

Just then, the silk sheets tented around his waist stirred.

A golden head popped up from between his legs.

Lady Seraphine emerged, her hair a beautiful, tangled mess. She licked her lips with a satisfied, cat-like expression, a trail of saliva glistening on her chin. Her face was flushed pink, her amber eyes heavy with a mixture of exhaustion and adoration.

"You are frowning, Master," she said, pouting playfully as she crawled up his body. "Am I boring you? Is my mouth not enough to keep your attention anymore?"

Leo smirked. He reached down and ran his hand through her hair, gripping the back of her neck lightly.

"Never," he said. "I was just lost in thought... remembering how tight your pussy felt last night. And how heavy your tits look when they bounce above me. It's distracting."

Seraphine giggles, swatting his chest. "Liar. You were thinking about something intense. I can see it in your eyes. You have that 'planning a raid' look."

She leaned up and gave him a sweet, quick kiss on the lips, tasting faintly of him.

"But... I like the praise," she whispered.

She settled back down, resting her chin on his stomach, her breasts pressing against his thighs. Her expression turned conspiratorial.

"Speaking of distractions..." she said casually, tracing a circle around his navel. "A messenger came from the Temple of Light yesterday."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did the old fraud finally crawl out of his hole?"

"They brought an official invitation letter for you," Seraphine said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Addressed to 'The Hero of the Hall'. Wax seal and everything."

Leo frowned. "I didn't get a letter."

"Because my husband intercepted it," Seraphine sneered. "He hid it. He burned it, I think. He doesn't want you building alliances with the Temple. He wants you isolated. He's terrified that if you and the High Priest start talking, you might realize you don't need him."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "Naughty husband. Hiding quest items from the player. That's against the rules."

He looked down at Seraphine. A wicked glint entered his eyes.

"And you waited until now to tell me?" Leo asked, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You knew yesterday and you waited?"

Seraphine froze, biting her lip. "I... I was distracted! You were... very thorough last night."

"Excuses," Leo tutted. "You need to be punished for your husband's negligence. If he screws up, you pay the price. That's the rule of the house now."

He grabbed her hips. "Turn around."

Seraphine gasped, but she moved instantly. She spun around on the bed, presenting her back to him. Leo shifted, maneuvering them into a perfect 69 position.

She straddled his face, her knees by his ears. She lowered herself, hovering her wet, swollen pussy right over his mouth. At the same time, she lowered her own face to his crotch, her breath hot against his hardening shaft.

"Now," Leo muttered against her thigh. "Let's discuss politics."

He buried his face in her crotch. His tongue lashed out, finding her clit instantly.

"Aaah!" Seraphine cried out, her hips bucking. Her mouth clamped down on his cock instinctively, taking him in deep.

Leo worked her over with a rhythmic, punishing pace. Lick. Suck. Swirl.

"So..." Leo mumbled, his voice vibrating against her wetness. "The High Priest..." Slurp. "...wants to see me?"

"Yes..." Seraphine moaned around his shaft, her voice trembling. "Remus... he sent... oh god, Leo... right there..."

Leo reached up with his hands. He grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them wide. The sight was incredible. The candlelight flickered over her pale skin and the pink, puckered rose of her asshole.

"The Priest..." Leo said, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in. "Probably wants to save face. He looked like an idiot when his magic failed."

He moved one large finger to her entrance—the back door. He circled the rim, teasing the tight muscle.

"Or maybe," Leo chuckled darkly, his breath hot on her sensitive skin, "He wants to ask me how I did it. Maybe he wants to know if I have a bigger... staff... than he does."

He pushed his finger in. Just the tip.

Seraphine gasped, her whole body stiffening. She broke the suction on his cock for a second, lifting her head. "Leo! Not there! That's... tight!"

"Relax," Leo commanded, the vibration of his voice sending shocks through her pelvis. "I need to train this hole too. You're my wife now, Seraphine. Every hole belongs to me. Even the tight ones."

He pushed his finger in deeper, stretching her. At the same time, he latched onto her clit again, sucking hard.

"Does your husband ever do this?" Leo asked, mocking the Lord while he violated his wife. "Oh wait. I forgot. He prefers the other team. Maybe I should send him a letter. Ask him if he wants to trade tips on how to handle a stiff rod."

Seraphine couldn't answer. She was gagging on his cock, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation of his tongue on her clit and his finger invading her ass. Tears of pleasure streamed down her face. She bobbed her head frantically, trying to take him deeper, trying to silence his teasing with her mouth.

"Mmmph! Gaaaah!"

"Yeah, that's it," Leo grunted, thrusting his hips up into her throat while he twisted his finger inside her. "Choke on it while I plan my day. Tell me, does Remus prefer little boys too? Is that why he gets along with your husband? Is the Temple just a dating club for useless old men who can't get it up?"

Seraphine shrieked, her orgasm hitting her hard. She clamped down on his finger, her inner walls spasming. Leo didn't stop. He drank her juices, laughing internally at the absurdity of plotting a political coup while balls-deep in the Lord's wife's throat.

The next morning, the sun was bright and unforgiving.

Leo stood before the massive, double doors of the Temple of Light.

It was a grand structure, built of white marble imported from the coast, with stained glass windows that glowed with an ethereal, expensive light. It was supposed to be a place of sanctuary, of peace.

But to Leo, it felt... off.

[System Alert: Irregular Mana Signature detected.]

[Source: Interior of the Temple.]

[Threat Level: Moderate.]

"Smells like mold," Leo muttered, adjusting his coat. He checked his daggers. Still sharp.

He didn't knock. He pushed the heavy doors open with a shove that was perhaps a little too aggressive for a place of worship.

The interior was vast. The air was cool and smelled of incense—too much incense, like they were trying to cover up a rotting smell. Rows of wooden pews were filled with devout citizens, their heads bowed in prayer.

But Leo's eyes went straight to the raised stage at the far end.

The atmosphere was heavy. Suffocating.

High Priest Remus wasn't there.

Instead, a different man stood at the marble pulpit. He was young, gaunt, with cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut paper. And he wasn't wearing the traditional white and gold robes of the Light.

He was wearing black robes. Deep, light-absorbing black, trimmed with silver runes that twisted and writhed if you looked at them too long.

Behind him, standing in a neat row, were five young children. They couldn't have been more than six or seven years old. They were dressed in ceremonial white tunics that looked like burial shrouds. They were holding thick, unlit candles.

They looked terrified. One little girl was shaking so hard her candle was rattling.

"This isn't a baptism," Leo thought, his eyes narrowing. "This looks like a menu."

The Priest in black raised his hands. His voice boomed, amplified by magic.

"We must purge the darkness!" he screamed, his eyes wide and fanatical. "The city is sick! The shadows grow long! We must offer the innocent to the Light to cleanse the sins of the unfaithful! Only through the pure flame can we be saved!"

The congregation murmured, swaying back and forth. They looked mesmerized. Brainwashed.

Leo's Predator's Instincts flared hot. This wasn't religion. This was a setup.

He didn't wait for the sermon to end. He didn't wait for the inevitable sacrifice.

He started walking down the center aisle. His boots clicked loudly on the stone floor.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

The sound cut through the chanting like a knife.

"Hey!" Leo shouted.

His voice wasn't respectful. It was bored. Annoyed.

The Priest stopped mid-sentence. His mouth hung open. The congregation turned in their seats, hundreds of eyes fixing on the lone figure walking towards the altar.

The children on stage looked up, hope flickering in their tear-filled eyes.

Leo stopped ten feet from the stage. He put his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to the side, looking at the black-robed fanatic.

"I got an invite," Leo said, his voice echoing in the sudden, stunned silence. "Addressed to the 'Hero'. That's me."

He looked around the stage, making a show of looking for someone.

"Where is Remus? Did the old pervert finally break a hip running away from his responsibilities?"

A gasp went through the crowd. Blasphemy.

Leo looked back at the Priest in black. "And you. Why are you wearing black at a wedding? Or is this a funeral? Because if you're planning on hurting those kids, it's definitely going to be a funeral. Yours."

The Priest in black stared down at him. He didn't look angry. He didn't look scared.

He smiled.

It was a wide, stretching smile that showed too many teeth. It didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were dead.

The silence in the hall was absolute. Pin-drop silence.

Suddenly, without a spark or a match, the candles in the children's hands flared to life.

But the flame wasn't orange. It wasn't yellow.

It was a sickly, pulsating green.

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