Dusk had completely devoured the horizon. From the depths of the valley, the night crept upward.
Ancient trees stretched their gnarled limbs skyward, and upon one twisted branch, a shadowy figure reclined lazily, toes playfully tapping the bark.
"I don't get it… I really don't get it…"
The mountain wind swept through her flame-like violet hair, revealing two small, delicate demonic horns on her forehead.
With a finger resting lightly on her crimson lips, her rose-pink eyes swept down the mountainside, watching as Wendy and his party faded into the distance.
That face—so beautiful it could topple nations—was now painted with casual detachment and vacant indifference.
"This Wendy Black… how the hell is he still alive?"
Had Wendy looked back at that moment, his soul might have fled his body in terror.
For the scantily-clad silhouette perched atop the tree was none other than the second most powerful figure among the demons—right after the Corruption Demon King himself. She was also the future Grand Strategist of the Witch Empire—
The Queen of the Succubi, Evelynn.
A being who, with her wits alone, had manipulated the entire allied forces of the continent of Elasia—who came to invade the Witch Empire—into self-destruction and civil war, reducing their grand crusade into chaos and defeat.
If not for a last-minute intervention by a "Player" descending like a god from the sky, the human kingdoms would've been annihilated long ago.
"So strange..."
Evelynn stretched with feline elegance, her signature pointed tail absentmindedly carving grooves into the bark behind her.
Her dusky violet skin glistened under the pale moonlight, framed by tight leather garments.
Alluring, seductive, lazy and dangerous—yet no one was present to witness her beauty.
Her original plan had been simple:
Kill Wendy, implant a Puppet Spell, turn him into her plaything, then stage a kidnapping by orcs—only to have him "heroically rescued" by humans later on.
A prince of the Greatknight Kingdom, infiltrating the inner circle of Valoran? The entertainment possibilities were endless.
But now—things had gone awry.
Wendy Black, who was supposed to be dead, was not only alive and kicking—he had somehow bonded with that iron-hearted lioness of the North, Astraea.
Even more critically, Evelynn could sense that the Control Brand she had secretly etched into Wendy's heart—just in case—was gone.
Completely.
Purified? No... that's not it.
She closed her eyes, expanding her perception.
In that instant, Wendy Black was no longer just a human in her mind's eye.
Deep within his soul, an ancient, powerful blood pact was gleaming.
The sacred bond passed down through generations between the Cavalier Royal Family and the Holy Sword, Balmurlock..
But that sword—was long since corrupted by her liege, the Demon King of Corruption.
Now, purity and filth, two opposing forces, twisted and writhed within the pact—fusing, clashing, contorting—
Until they mutated into something wholly new… something unheard of.
Something that, even to the Queen of Succubi… felt thrilling.
A brand-new form of corruption.
A curse born of light and darkness:
Fallen Grace ❤️ Corruption.
"Heh…"
A soft, low chuckle slipped from Evelynn's fiery lips.
So light, like a feather brushing across the heart. Even the air felt thick and sticky under its weight.
She understood now.
Wendy Black, due to the mutation of that ancient pact, was no longer just a key to unlocking the seal.
The little prince himself… had become a walking source of contamination.
Anyone—any human—who came into prolonged, intimate contact with him would have the cracks in their psyche… the hidden desires… the buried weaknesses of their soul…
Amplified. Distorted. Catalyzed.
Like the ripest fruit, rotting from the inside out.
Until at last, they would fall into depravity—becoming witches consumed by lust and madness.
"Kukuku…"
This time, her giggle was sharper, clearer. Playful like a mischievous girl, yet piercing as tiny silver needles pricking the ears.
Her seductive eyes curved like crescent moons, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings—but her gaze locked tightly onto Astraea.
As if she could peel open that knight's shell and crush the core of her soul.
The so-called chivalry and sense of duty Astraea clung to were already buckling under the pressure of the orc invasion.
Now she'd chosen to get close to Wendy, the epicenter of the curse…
Evelynn could already see it: the noble Northern Lioness tearing off her mask of righteousness—becoming a woman ruled solely by desire and possession.
A walking witch incubator, loose on the continent?
Far more amusing than a mere corpse puppet.
For the first time, Evelynn felt a surge of genuine interest toward this cursed little prince.
She wanted to see—she needed to see—how long the women around him could withstand the sweet poison he carried.
Would it be Astraea, with her long-nursed insecurities, who fell first?
Or would even more interesting "witch candidates" appear in the future?
And as for Wendy Black himself…
This source of the curse, this eye of the storm—what fate awaited him?
Would he be torn apart by the very witches he created?
Or become a toy shared between them all?
At the thought, Evelynn leaned against the tree trunk, moonlight outlining her perfect profile. She toyed with a lock of purple hair, her lips curling into an ambiguous smile.
"Hehehe…"
The curve of her lips deepened. Her shoulders began to tremble.
"Ehehehe…"
Suddenly, her head snapped up. Her stunning face twisted in ecstasy, amber pupils blazing with cold fire.
"Ahahahaha—!"
Her laughter erupted like a dam breaking—wild, gleeful, unrestrained.
Tearing through the night's silence, echoing through the dark forest, it brimmed with endless mockery and childlike joy—as though she'd discovered the world's most delightful toy.
But beneath that joy was a chasm—deep, cold, and boundless—a hunger that could devour everything.
"So fun… This is truly… too much fun\~"
Her cackling stopped abruptly at its peak, leaving only a sigh of satisfaction, followed by a low murmur.
"Almost forgot… still need to finish unsealing my dear Demon King…"
Silence returned to the mountain. Only the tremors of her laughter lingered in the treetops, like a ghostly hum.
The Queen of Succubi rose slowly. The madness still clung to her beautiful features, but her eyes had grown cold again—burning now with a possessive, nearly obsessive heat.
She tilted her head slightly. Her crimson tongue slowly licked her lush lips.
A gesture that oozed cruel elegance and icy allure.
"Interesting… So very interesting… little prince…"
Kill Wendy, to avoid potential threats?
No. Absolutely not.
A treasure like this—how could she ever destroy it?
She would become the most patient spectator. She would watch, quietly enjoying the grand performance that Wendy Black was about to put on.
And perhaps, at just the right moment…
She'd give him a gentle nudge—to make the show even more exciting.
"Struggle well, my darling prince…"
"Don't you dare disappoint me\~"
The mountain wind howled. The enchantress vanished into the shadows.
Wendy, walking alongside Astraea, suddenly shivered for no reason.
"What's wrong, Wendy?" Astraea turned to him, concerned.
"…It's nothing," he rubbed his nose. "Maybe… it's just getting cold in the mountains at night."