Chapter 545: Break It, Then Love It

"Yo... Morgi!" Vicky's voice called out, a breathless excitement in her tone. "I've got a new pet!"

I turned from the smoldering crater that used to be Cassian, licking the last traces of cheap blood from my fingers. I saw Vicky, her draconic form still magnificent and terrifying, dragging the massive, broken form of the wyvern behind her like it was a disobedient child.

Its scales were cracked and smoking; one of its wings was bent at an unnatural angle, and a series of deep, bleeding gashes marred its flank. But it was still alive. Barely.

"Looks... fun," I said, a slow, wicked grin spreading across my face. "Did you at least save me the fun parts?"

"I was hoping you'd say that," Vicky grinned, her dragon features enhancing her predatory expression. "I crippled it, but I left its... other functions... intact. I thought you might want to... welcome it to the family personally."

"You're the best sister, Vicky," I purred, my eyes roaming over the defeated wyvern. "I was getting bored with just normal cocks. A wyvern... that's a new flavor."

"He put up a good fight," Vicky said, giving the wyvern's tail a sharp tug, earning a pained groan from the creature. "For a lizard, anyway. He almost took my eye out with that tail of his. But then I remembered I have scales."

"Always a useful feature," I agreed, taking a step toward the wyvern, my crimson eyes glowing with a dark, hungry light. "Now... let's see what we're working with."

Roar!

He struggled, trying to break free, to lash out, but Vicky punched him in the head.

"Tsk... tsk... tsk..." I scolded, shaking my head slowly. "Such a bad temper. That simply won't do. We'll have to... break you in properly."

I knelt down in front of its snout, my gaze locking with its pained, defiant eyes.

"Oh, you poor thing, you suffered a lot," I said, my voice a soft, seductive murmur, my hand reaching out to caress its bruised snout. "It must hurt so much. Let me make it all better."

My touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the violence I had just unleashed. The wyvern flinched, a low growl rumbling in its chest, but it didn't pull away. It could feel it. The power. The divine energy radiates from my touch. It was a balm to its pain, a soothing coolness that seeped into its very bones, knitting its broken flesh, easing its agony.

Its struggles weakened, its growls subsiding into soft, whimpering sighs. Its reptilian eyes, once burning with defiance, were now clouded with a confused, dawning pleasure.

Within seconds, he was healed.

"See?" I cooed, my fingers tracing the line of its jaw, my other hand moving lower, down its neck, across its broad, scaly chest. "I can be... kind. I can make you feel things you've never felt before. Things you've only dreamed of."

I swear I saw tears in its eyes.

"There, there," I whispered, my lips brushing against its ear. "It's okay to let go. It's okay to enjoy it. You've been a good boy, and good boys deserve a reward."

Like a lost puppy, the wyvern pressed its head against my hand, nuzzling my palm, its body trembling not with pain, but with a new, unfamiliar desire.

"Good boy," I praised, my smile widening. "Now... let's see what you have down there."

My hand continued its downward journey, past its chest, down its belly, toward the slit where its reproductive organ was hidden. The wyvern tensed again, a flicker of its old fear returning.

"Shh... shh..." I whispered, my fingers gently stroking its red scales. "It's alright. I'll be gentle."

I leaned in to have a good look, and to my surprise—

"Oh... a futa wyvern," I giggled. "What a nice gift."

The wyvern had both sets of genitalia: a slit that housed a long, thick, reptilian cock, and above it, a tight, wet, inviting pussy. It was a perfect specimen of dual-sexed nature, a rare and precious find.

"Good job, Vicky," I called over my shoulder. "This one is a keeper."

"I try my best," Vicky shot back, her tone smug. "Now, are you going to fuck it or just admire it all day? Some of us have a debt to keep."

"Ah!... shit!"

I remembered our bet. The kill count.

I had been so preoccupied with Cassian that I had completely forgotten about our little competition. I glanced around the battlefield, at the carnage, at the piles of broken bodies and shattered armor.

"So, who won?" Vicky asked, a predatory grin spreading across her draconic face.

"You, of course," I sighed, admitting defeat. "I got distracted playing with the 'Chosen One'. You had all the fun with the grunts."

"So..." she drawled, her tail lashing with anticipation. "I get to tie you up and do whatever I want for a day?"

"You do," I said, a slow, wicked grin spreading across my face. "But remember, Vicky, payback is a bitch. And I am very good at collecting my debts."

"I'm counting on it," she purred, her crimson eyes gleaming with excitement. "But for now... You have a wyvern to... 'welcome' to the family."

"Yeah... yeah..." I nodded. "But before that..."

I rose to my feet, bit my thumb, letting a drop of my blood fall on the ground.

"Arise, blood of my blood."

The command hung in the air, a wave of dark red power radiating from me. Blood began to spread across the battlefield, and from within rose a nightmarish army. My Immortal Army skill.

Humanoid blood constructs, their bodies formed from coagulated blood, their shapes shifting from vaguely feminine to vaguely masculine forms. They had no faces, only smooth, crimson skin that shimmered with an otherworldly light. They were soulless, mindless, utterly loyal to me.

"Clean this mess up," I commanded, my voice a cold, authoritative growl. "I want every piece of armor, every weapon, every scrap of metal collected and sorted. Bodies too, collect them all. I don't want to leave a single trace that we were here."

Sadly, we forgot to capture a few Gray Knights for Herma to 'study'.

"Oh well, next time."

The blood constructs moved with a silent, eerie efficiency, their bodies flowing over the battlefield, their hands sinking into the ground, pulling out buried bits of metal and bone. They were the perfect cleanup crew, tireless and thorough.

With that handled, I turned my attention back to the church.

Pushing the door, I stepped inside and was instantly met with a wave of sanctified, suffocating purity. It was an assault on the senses, a nauseating, cloying sweetness that made my teeth ache. The interior was small, cramped, and ridiculously ornate for a temporary structure. Polished silver panels reflected the dim light from flickering censers, filling the air with thick, cloying incense. Pews, carved from a white wood I didn't recognize, were lined in neat, obsessive rows, all facing the grand prize at the far end.

An altar.

An angelic sculpture, carved from a single, massive piece of moon-white marble, stood upon it. It was a depiction of Uriel, of course. All serene smiles, outstretched hands, and a look of beatific condescension that made me want to punch its face in.

"Interesting..." I mumbled, my gaze fixed on the altar. I felt a divine connection.

"Herma, should I destroy it or not?" I asked.

[The divine resonance is faint, but it's there—a direct channel, a tether. It's likely how their 'god' was boosting Cassian, and probably how they monitor these 'holy' expeditions,] Herma explained. [Destroying it would send a message. A loud one. It would sever the connection and leave them blind.]

"A message... I like that," I grinned.

[However, I advise against it,] Herma quickly added. [Transport it to your temple, where I can study it. And when the lust corruption in the City of Silver reaches a certain level, we could use it to open the way, sending you to Heaven.]

"Ah... a back door!" I grinned. "Good idea."

I scanned the chapel one last time before leaving.

I sat outside, watching the crimson horde at work. Vicky was still in her dragon-girl form, sitting on a pile of dismantled armor, polishing her claws with a piece of silver pauldron, looking bored.

The wyvern was curled up at my feet, its massive head resting in my lap, its eyes closed, a low, rumbling purr vibrating through its body. It was completely docile now, its previous ferocity gone, replaced by a slavish devotion.

After about 30 minutes, the blood constructs finished their job. All the loot was piled up in neat stacks. The battlefield was spotless; not a single drop of blood, not a single shard of bone remained.

"Good boys," I praised, patting the nearest construct on its smooth, featureless head. It shimmered, a soft ripple of crimson light running through its body, a silent acknowledgment of its mistress's approval.

"Alright, let's go home," I waved a hand, opening a massive portal, allowing the blood constructs to carry the loot through.

"Pick up the chapel too," I added, pointing at the small, ornate building. "And be careful with it. It's a special delivery."

The constructs swarmed the chapel, their bodies flowing over the structure, lifting it effortlessly, their combined strength enough to carry the entire building through the portal without disturbing a single pew.

Vicky stepped through the portal, her tail swaying behind her, the wyvern following her like a lost puppy, its massive form barely fitting through the shimmering gateway.

With one last look at the camp where 10,000 Gray Knights used to be, now an empty field under the stars, I waved a hand, breaking the blood barrier that I set before.

"That was a good midnight hunt."

Then I stepped through the portal, leaving no trace we were ever there.

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