"Although I doubt you’ll like it," I added with a crooked smile.

Seraphine was boiling over, a normal defense mechanism considering she had gone from refining qi to the peak of the Golden Core in mere moments.

She stared at me fixedly, expectant, waiting to see what I would do.

My hand began to slide down from her flushed cheeks to her chest, peeling away the clothing that covered her with deliberate slowness. At the same time, I started sending small waves of cold energy through her body—not to heal her all at once, but to tease her and toy with her sensitivity.

Moans of relief followed, shattering the mask of arrogance and superiority she now wore.

The instant my fingers brushed her hardened nipples and the cold qi waves slipped across her burning skin, Seraphine let out a longer, more broken moan that made her arch her back as if electricity were shooting through her.

Her crimson eyes blinked. For a second, the innocent Seraphine returned: pupils dilated, lips parted in an expression of pure, almost childlike surprise.

"Cassian... that... that’s too cold... it’s tickling inside me..." she whispered in a trembling voice, her cheeks burning with shame as she tried to cover her breasts with her hands.

But arrogance took control instantly. She yanked the hands away and instead grabbed my wrists, pressing them harder against her breasts.

"Don’t stop," she growled, her voice hoarse and demanding. "If you’re going to help me like this, don’t you dare show mercy."

Her fingers dug hard into my wrists, forcing me to squeeze her breasts more roughly, almost brutally.

She definitely didn’t want to feel anything in this. If it was going to be this way for her, it was better to be cruel and completely shatter the memories that haunted her.

I squeezed her tits viciously, as if punishing her, sinking my fingers into the soft flesh until red marks bloomed. My thumbs rubbed her swollen nipples hard, pinching and twisting them mercilessly while the cold qi continued to invade her like icy needles.

Seraphine let out a choked cry.

Once I grew tired of playing with her upper body, I moved downward with much more gentleness, stripping her completely of every last piece of clothing and doing the same with what covered my chest.

She shot me a withering glare, biting her lip hard as if holding back her humiliation, while the part of her that still couldn’t believe this was really happening struggled to stay in control.

My eyes softened a little, even though the woman in front of me had changed quite a bit. I couldn’t treat her so coldly; something about her reminded me of Liwei and Luowei, and another part made me think that if Jinghua—that mischievous little fox—ever met this Seraphine, the two of them would end up destroying a couple of worlds together.

I began trying to treat her seriously, though that wouldn’t change the fact that I had every intention of taking this step with her.

The change was immediate. The moans that had been a mix of pain, discomfort, and pleasure now became purely the latter: deep, hoarse, filled with raw, unfiltered pleasure she could no longer hide.

Seraphine clenched her teeth, her face red with humiliation and suppressed fury, but her body betrayed her without mercy.

She threw her head back, biting her lip until it nearly bled, trying to hold back the moans that now spilled out freely and desperately.

"N-not like this..." she protested, even as her pussy clenched around my fingers like a hot, wet fist, begging for more relief and pleasure at the same time.

She was ready.

Her swollen lips glistened with her own wetness, parted and trembling. The cold qi I had injected into her kept dancing inside, offering relief she couldn’t help but crave.

Without a word, I lifted myself just enough to free my shaft.

Seraphine swallowed hard.

The sound was audible—dry, almost desperate. Her crimson eyes locked onto my thing and widened like saucers. For a second I saw pure shock in her gaze: the arrogant Seraphine fighting something even she didn’t understand. Her pupils dilated so much they nearly swallowed the red of her irises.

There was confusion, shame, a flash of panic... but all of it quickly sank beneath a thick fog of desire.

"No..." she whispered, but her voice had lost all strength. It was more a plea than an order.

I didn’t give her time to finish.

I gripped my shaft at the base and lowered it slowly, rubbing the thick head against her soaked pussy, teasing, tormenting her without giving her the final step.

"Look at me," I ordered in a low, husky voice, never breaking eye contact.

And she did.

That internal struggle. Her brows furrowed, her lips trembled.

Her hips moved on their own, seeking more friction, pressing her hot pussy against my shaft as if her body had already made the decision for her.

"Cassian..." she moaned, and her voice cracked into something between a sob and a plea.

That name—which she finally seemed to be remembering—was all it took for the simple rub to become a thrust, breaking her hymen and flooding her entire body with relief after it had been torn apart inside.

Her nails dug into my back as her body arched, pressing tightly against mine.

Stabilizing her body would take time. Even though I could have done it more easily, since I had chosen this path, I would give Seraphine—or this strange new version of her, now one and the same—a first time she would never forget.

Seraphine drifted between unconsciousness and ecstasy, losing count of how many times her screams had been lost among the roars of nearby beasts and erupting volcanoes. We must have been like that for a total of three days, until she finally stabilized and collapsed exhausted into my arms.

The moans, which had paid no attention to where they were, finally fell silent. The worries about the people who definitely still had this fresh in their minds faded into the back of hers.

...

Leonardo Demor still hadn’t woken up, courtesy of Cassian, though everyone around him was definitely awake.

"It’s been several days and Cassian still isn’t back. No matter what you say, Morgana, I can’t wait any longer," Cassane’s icy eyes shone with worry she was trying to suppress.

"If he hasn’t returned, we shouldn’t move. We’re safe here. Besides, you’ve seen the beasts that pass by; we wouldn’t last an hour if we leave."

Cassane frowned. Victorio listened to the conversation with annoyance; he had wanted explanations from his sister for a while and wasn’t getting any. At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed nearby.

At first they thought it was one of the beasts they had already seen before, the ones that seemed to ignore them as if they weren’t there, but the figure that appeared had nothing to do with those.

Lucas Wyrne stood there, observing them in silence.

He didn’t shout or attack right away. His clothes were in tatters and his skin stained with ash, yet he walked with an unsettling calm, as if he were simply passing by.

"You’re lucky," he murmured in a raspy, almost inaudible voice. "You found a place where the beasts don’t come."

He took a few steps toward the group, hands empty and gaze distant, feigning vulnerability. But Victorio noticed something the others missed: Lucas wasn’t limping, and his right hand was trembling—not from fear, but from the buildup of contained energy.

"Stop right there, Lucas," Victorio warned.

Lucas stopped, and a slow smile devoid of any humanity spread across his face.

"If everyone dies here... only the genius who survived hell will remain."

In the blink of an eye, his Second Limit aura exploded.

Victorio reacted on instinct, wrapping himself in his fifth-circle aura to block the first strike aimed straight at his neck.

Valeria, seeing Victorio in trouble, lunged from the flank with a precise thrust, forcing Lucas to retreat.

Cassane didn’t waste time on words. She extended his hands and the air froze.

CRACK!!!

Huge fourth-circle ice lances burst from the ground, trying to cage the Prince of Lucratis. Morgana, taking advantage of Lucas being busy deflecting the ice and Valeria’s attacks, began weaving mana traps into the ground, hiding them beneath the ash to hinder his superior mobility.

Lucas was gaining ground despite being four against one; his level was simply too high. He gathered energy in his fists for an impact that would sweep the entire refuge away.

But before he could unleash his power, a blazing glow lit up the sky.

BOOM!!!

A crimson fire projectile descended like divine punishment. The attack was so fast and devastating that Lucas, focused on the group in front of him, had no time to react. A blast of pure flames engulfed him completely, turning the area into a hell of red light.

A genius had died, and another—with fiery red hair and a gaze that seemed completely changed from his former self—had saved them all.

Julius Sterling, hollow, destroyed, exhausted, stood there; he looked at them one last time before collapsing to the ground.