Hattie sat on the edge of the bed, placing the basket on the nightstand. "You’re too weak," she said softly. "Don’t move. Let feed you."
She lifted the lid, releasing a rich, savory aroma. Inside lay a shallow, round bowl filled to the brim with thick vegetable soup studded with plump shrimp. Beside it rested three golden slices of bread, steaming and fragrant.
The tantalizing scent assaulted Charles’ senses. His stomach growled, hunger surging through him—he realized then just how long it had been since he’d last eaten.
Hiss... Fine. I’ll purify her after I eat.
Hattie picked up a slice of bread, dipped it into the soup, and brought it to Charles’ lips. Obediently, he opened his mouth, taking a bite as he savored the flavors—
Hiss... Why does it taste like seawater?
The odd briny aftertaste made him frown. Then it struck him: in this world’s primitive economy, refined salt was a luxury. And since this was a port city, a faint oceanic bitterness in the food wasn’t unusual.
Well... At least it’s edible.
He chewed reluctantly, brows knit. Hattie’s face fell at his expression. "Does it... not taste good? I’m sorry. I’m still learning to cook this kind of food properly..."
Her genuine dismay made Charles sigh inwardly. If only you were really just a nun, not draining my soul...
"It’s delicious," he lied gently. "I’m just... still weak. Tired."
Her eyes brightened like spring blossoms. "I’m so glad you like it, dear Charles."
Then, her gaze flickered. A blush crept across her cheeks. "Since you’re still frail, maybe..."
She bit her lower lip, as if steeling herself, then dipped another piece of bread into the soup—but instead of offering it to him, she placed it between her own lips.
By now, her face was crimson. Yet she didn’t stop. Before Charles could react, she leaned in, eyes fluttering shut, and pressed her lips to his.
His eyes flew wide. The warmth, the softness—his body reacted instantly.
Worse (or better?), her delicate tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his own.
This witch...
Is she always this forward?!
His body trembled as if driven by instinct. His hands clutched at Hattie’s nun’s habit, fumbling desperately for an opening, craving to scale those lush peaks!
Noticing his movents, Hattie’s face flushed deeper, yet she did not resist. Instead, she seized his hand, guiding him to lift her skirt and slip beneath the nun’s habit from below.
Only when his fingers brushed against her delicate, soft skin did Charles suddenly realize—beneath that seemingly dark, modest, and heavy nun’s habit, she was completely bare!
Hattie wore nothing underneath!
This discovery sent his desire surging even higher, his body swelling until it threatened to burst!
Seeing the witch still ruddy complexion, eyes closed, reveling in his wet kisses and caresses, Charles steeled himself. Rembering her cruel nature, he silently chanted:
"Purification!"
In an instant, milky light erupted from his skin, crawling up Hattie’s body through his lips and hands. A surge of pure, overwhelming power flooded his veins, banishing hunger, exhaustion, and pain—every muscle thrumd with vitality, like an athlete prid for action.
Hattie’s eyes flew open. She tore her lips away with a contorted scream: "Ghk—ahh!"
A guttural snarl ripped from her throat. Murky light pulsed beneath her skin as her thick nun’s wimple writhed, tentacles squirming beneath the fabric.
But then, her tone turned utterly horrified: "What’s going on?! I can’t even..."
She tried to step back. Seeing this, Charles swiftly moved his hands to her back, barely registering the smooth, soft sensation as he held her tight, then threw his whole body into the motion—
Huh?
Why’s she so light?!
No ti to question why a deep-sea horror weighed nothing. In one motion, he flipped her onto the bed.
The move laid his intentions bare. Hattie’s eyes flew wide, her gaze a mix of shock and betrayal. "You? You dare betray ?!"
Never in her darkest nightmares had she imagined this food—this weakling whose soul she’d drained for over a fortnight—could suddenly wield power to threaten her very existence.
"You... Lowly human beings!"
Her beautiful face twisted into sothing monstrous. The gentleness, the elegance—re camouflage to tenderize her prey. Now, cornered, her true nature erupted like pus from a lanced wound.
Inky shadows pooled beneath her. Erald-black tentacles writhed upward—only to disintegrate under the milky glow that clung to her skin, purifying every attempt at resistance.
"You actually..." Hattie’s rage boiled over when she realized her power was sealed. "I’ll tornt you for eternity! Make you beg for death that never cos!"
She thrashed like a netted shark. Charles’ heart hamred against his ribs, sweat drenching his brow. The situation teetered on chaos.
No—must restrain her!
But... with what strength?
THUD!
Suddenly, seizing a gap, Hattie exerted force suddenly, turned over, and pressed Charles under her!
Her hands locked around his throat. "Die, you wretched maggot!"
"Ghk—!"
Charles’ vision speckled black. His struggles were pathetic against her eldritch might—like a child fighting a tsunami.
Then—epiphany.
Hattie’s Weakness!
As the first witch tad by the player, Hattie is characterized by her imnse power but extre sensitivity. The slightest touch can leave her weak and trembling, and just a few advances are enough to conquer her!
Though it’s unclear how things work in the real world, right now, there’s no other choice!
Coincidentally, his hands were already inside her nun’s habit, and this witch wasn’t wearing any undergarnts. His hands trailed down her body, gliding over her flat, soft abdon and full, rounded hips. His fingers brushed through neatly trimd curls before exploring the plush, delicate inner thighs—and sure enough, he touched sothing already swollen and hardened...
"You—!"
The hands gripping his throat suddenly went slack as Hattie’s entire body slumped downward. Her eyes burned with hatred, yet her body betrayed her, losing all strength!
It really worked!
Seizing the opportunity, Charles flipped her over, pinning the witch beneath him once more. While reclaiming control, his hands didn’t stop: his middle finger traced the moist slit, soon finding the tight entrance hidden between her folds, and slowly pushed inside!
"Ugh... You wretched maggot, how dare you—oh—!"
A seductive moan escaped Hattie’s lips. Her snow-white thighs clenched subconsciously, and Charles suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure crushing his poor finger from all sides!
Such an intense reaction!
That ans I’m doing it right!
But what next?
Countless tutorial videos flashed through his mind as Charles clumsily moved his finger. Instantly, Hattie’s back arched slightly, her expression contorted, and her cries grew increasingly conflicted: "No—ah—ahhh—!"
Abruptly, he felt a surge like crashing waves around his finger. Then, the brutal terror of a witch stiffened, her eyes glazing over before she collapsed limply onto the bed!
So... it worked?
His heart raced, breath heavy with relief. Staring at Hattie’s dazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and weak panting, he felt a fire ignite within him too.
Since... why not...?
With that thought, he reached down with his other hand, pulling off his sleep pants. His already erect penis sprang free, bouncing before Hattie’s eyes.
Yet, this witch who had claid countless lives now lay breathless, her curses feeble: "You filthy human... I’ll never allow you... to defile my noble body..."
But it was too late. A milky purification glow enveloped her—she couldn’t even revert to her true form, let alone wield her power.
So, Charles lifted the skirt of her nun’s habit from below, revealing Hattie’s flawless, porcelain-like body in its entirety!
Her perfectly shaped, full breasts stood firm even while lying down, their rosy peaks stiff and aroused. Her flat abdon was soft and inviting, with a cute, sensual navel. Further down, her ample, rounded hips and plush, toned thighs ford a flawless curve. Beneath the sparse, pale-green triangle of curls lay her already drenched entrance...
He could hold back no longer. In an instant, he lunged forward, his left hand gripping one breast, marveling at its incredible softness and elasticity, the supple flesh spilling between his fingers!
anwhile, his mouth latched onto the other breast, sucking, his tongue teasing the adorable pink peak. Already sensitive, Hattie panted uncontrollably under his relentless assault!
Her arms weakly pushed at his shoulders as she continued to rage: "Get off, you bedbug-like creature, don’t touch ... no, stop, move away, get out, just get out..."
Perhaps for the first ti in her life, her voice carried sothing akin to fear. Because she could feel it—the massive glans of his penis pressing against her soaked entrance.
Then, it pushed forward slowly, parting the tight folds, delving deeper, deeper—
Charles’ hips thrust sharply forward.
"Ugh—!"
Two tears of humiliation rolled down Hattie’s cheeks. In that mont, she—a noble creature born of the world’s root power—was forced into the unity of body and soul with a lowly material life.
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