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Incubus Lord: I Summoned My Lustful Wives

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands. Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out. A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy! "You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! " These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments. "Should my blade break, I will use my body!" The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive. "If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!" Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone. All hope seemed lost. "And if my Soul fails..." What could a single man and his army do? He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve. "I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!" But he was too weak, too fragile. The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy. Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint. Miracles were beyond his reach. Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne. His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground. Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes. His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire. Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him. Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again. He desired to fight for the people who supported him. Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this. As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him. It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again. "If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?" Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind. A frail and broken voice 'There is no reason to ask, of course!' "No matter the cost?" 'Even if I were to lose everything...' 'If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!' "You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious." "Will you still accept?" The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity. To lose that caused his mind to falter. Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm. Lancelot reached out. Towards the raspy voice. Towards the abyss. Towards a new future. [So you would accept after all...] 'I must accept.' 'I must stand tall.' 'I must not break.' 'Because...' 'I am the Lord of humanity! [Nay, you are the king of demons] -------------- Release @ 22:30 (GMT+1)

Lunatic_Pandora · Fantasía
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210 Chs

[Bonus] Chapter 26: Valefor Plains - Blackwood Forest Skirmish [2]

The Eastern forest was called the Blackwood Forest, home to many monsters and foul creatures that Lancelot would have to clear before the end.

His territory was a large hexagon, with the forest being the closest hexagon to the east and the Forsaken Woods to the west.

As they marched to the edge of his territory, still without a name, he decided to leave until the day he entered the Academy because territory names can be searched for.

The day they were established would be the date a name was given.

'I cannot let the academy know... rather the spies and hidden traitors.'

'There are ways that experienced and well-established Lords can target and find new Lords even before the safety was over...'

He remembered a rising star hit by a monster wave due to an item borrowed from a senior Lord by one of the nobles that he upset.

'That lord never came home...'

'It's a shame, but if you die in Avalon, you also die in reality. It wasn't a game. So no matter how safe the novice protection was, it wasn't foolproof.'

Clang!

The Hares' swords hitting their belts sounded—while their feet were too large for armour.

Their fur and the thickness of the pads of their feet were beyond chainmail which surprised Lancelot when Ikumi forced Marimo to poke her foot with the spear to prove it to him earlier.

'Silly girl...'

He began to have shameful thoughts towards those two Hare.

Especially Marimo, who was too defenceless and bent over sometimes to help the others, showing her ample buttocks and the thin slit with neat puffy lips and small petals.

To make it worse, Ikumi could sometimes see his eyes and would instantly tell Marimo thinking that she was tempting Lancelot to copulate.

'The sight of Marimo bent down covering her cute ass and fluffy tail with her hands was so erotic and more obscene than her bending over...'

"Gigigi!"

Sadly, his reminiscence of the plump ass of Marimo ended as the same Marimo's body suddenly shot out like a black lightning bolt!

"Jagd!"

Instantly after her shout, all eleven Frost Hares charged forward, repeating her words with a loud battle cry and lunged towards the group of four Imps.

They moved before Lancelot even saw the location of the enemy.

Eleven blades and one spear shot through the forest, their powerful legs propelling them so fast and with deadly accuracy beyond the speed of a jumping spider they pounced like a violent group of ravenous hounds.

All of them tore apart the Imps without even starting a real battle.

Only the wild jeers of the shock infantry like a Germanian Blitz, causing the Imps to scream and cry out before dying in seconds.

Morgana and the two succubi only watched with mouths open wide.

[Frost Hares Defeated 4 Fel Imps]

Gained 2 Avalon coins

Gained experience: 22%-> 30% (Roughly 2% per Imp)

Summon Drive: 25% -> 55%

An instant after, Marimo lept into the air and landed in front of Lancelot, her face covered in blood, breathing heavily, and her breasts exposed from the tunic.

"My Lord!!! The hunt was successful!"

But all she cared about was offering her Lord the spoils.

Thud!

Ikumi was one step behind her white fur, causing a deep crater before she helped Marimo fix her tunic and tightened the fastener with a joyful face.

Yet her lips and teeth were filled with blood.

'These Hares...'

'Where are they weak and feeble!?'

[Forgive me, My King...]

Morgana's apologetic voice sounded as the meat and ears were cut and taken away, each Frost Hare storing them in their little pouches before lining up behind Marimo.

Sadly they didn't leap.

'Why do you apologise, Morgana?'

{Master! Marimo likes you! You should reward her!}

'Maybe if she does well and crushes their little hovel, I'll reward her.'

{Hehe~ Ikumi too! I'll tell her!}

Lancelot watched as she began whispering in Marimo's ear. The white Hare was so cheeky and cute, but he would allow it for now.

She needed time to mature and grow past her trauma and hidden shadow.

But the image of the black-haired Marimo, who was now red-faced and looking at him with dark blue eyes, blinked repeatedly.

"Her words are true, continue onward, and if you do so well against their hovel.

"I will reward you with an adequate amount."

[And me!? You ignored me, but that's good too!]

[Ah~ Big sister's heart is filled with pleasure from being teased with an abandonment play!]

'Morgana, tell me why you apologised.'

Lancelot replied to the crying little queen while he motioned for the Hares to move out; their steps and march were rather fast and cute, hopping with their powerful feet much faster than the succubi and himself.

Blackwood forest was just like the name suggested—the bark of the trees was black and filled with a heavy musk surrounding them.

A scent close to that of tobacco with the dark green leaves and tall bodies made the forest feel tight and narrow, with barely any natural open area's inside.

However, these trees were strong and thick, allowing each of the Hares to leap onto their tall branches in order, using the bend of each branch to spring themselves between each tree and keeping a high vantage point.

[I gave my blood to the Hares and changed their bodies. Now they will lose that poor health, but in return, they are more aggressive, violent and active...]

'I see.'

[Worry not, My King!]

[I told them it was your order. So that they would no longer suffer illness and weak bodies!]

Lancelot didn't mind.

He only felt slightly embarrassed as a Lord to forget the words stating they were sickly and easily caught disease, making him note down this mistake in his mind and prioritise the troop's needs and situation in future.

'Support Ikumi and Marimo with the two succubi.'

'Also Morgana...'

[Yes, Lancelot?]

'Think about what kind of non-sexual reward you want while crushing the Imps.'

[!!!]

The next moment, Morgana seemed pumped in sync with the Black and White Hares as all three screamed, "Jagd!"

Because the scouting troops found the Imp hovel and the small group of 22 Imps sitting around a fire and eating a few dead demon foxes.

Lancelot didn't want to be left behind this time.

His body was wrapped in a gentle breeze as purple petal blades danced around his body while wielding the dual blade form of his Swords of Gale Winds.

He was filled with the desire for battle instead of the negative and depressive feeling he was weighed down with in the past.

The feeling brought by the Frost Hares added a kind of joy and delight to his heart, allowing him to ignore the past tragedy as their bodies danced through the air, slashing, blocking and using their powerful legs to crush the imps into meat paste.

While Morgana and her two succubi dealt with the main hovel as their maces crushed and smashed the poor Imp chieftain into the wall before Morgana's spear pierced its throat, eyes and crotch in rapid succession.

'These women...'

'So fucking brutal!'

Lancelot called out in his heart before lunging forward, his body twirling like a waltz, slicing through the necks of two imps without care or resistance.

The first battle was a massacre.

His most intense memories were the bloodthirsty faces and bright smiles of Marimo and Ikumi.

Who seemed to be playing some game with a group of Imps, kicking them between each other before the rest of the Hares dropped from the air and sliced them into pieces.

But for the first time since he died.

Lancelot didn't feel alone on the battlefield... A sense of uplifting that helped his shattered heart hold together with the glue called forbearance.