100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 643: Chapter 642- Summoned Demon General

Viktor didn’t hear him. Or didn’t care. Both possibilities were the same.

He looked at his girlfriend. On the ground. On her back. Her legs spread. Her cunt — the cunt he had sworn to protect, the cunt she had saved for their wedding night — was leaking another man’s cum. White, thick, overflowing. Her eyes were vacant. Her mouth was open. She was smiling.

She was smiling.

Something broke in demon man’s chest. Not his heart — that had broken an hour ago. Something deeper. Something that held a man together when everything else fell apart. The last thread. The ’I-still-have-options’ thread. The ’there-is-still-a-way’ thread.

He used it.

His teeth closed on his own tongue.

Bit down. Hard. The pain was blinding — white, hot, filling his skull. Blood filled his mouth. Copper. Warm. His eyes rolled back. His body convulsed against the vines. He tasted his own blood swallowing it, choking on it, and for a moment — just a moment — the world went dark.

’Summoning.’

The old ritual. The forbidden one. The blood-price summoning that every demon knew but none dared use — because the price was your life, and the summoning brought something that might kill you anyway.

His blood hit the cave floor.

The ground cracked.

Not physically — dimensionally. The air above the blood split open like a wound. A tear in reality — black, edged with violet lightning, the edges sparking with demonic energy. The portal widened. Grew. The cave filled with a sound like tearing metal, like shattering glass, like the world itself was being unmade.

Viktor stopped.

He had been crouching. Both women on their hands and knees before him — side by side, their thick asses presented, their pussies and assholes exposed. His hand was on his cock, stroking slowly, the shaft still slick with cum and blood and arousal. He had been slapping their asses — alternating, left then right, the pale flesh of Evriana’s Catorian-built rear and the blue skin of the demon woman’s ass both reddening under his palm.

SMACK. SMACK.

Both women had flinched. Both had moaned. Both had pushed their asses back toward him — the involuntary, trained, ’my-body-wants-cock’ response that hours of fucking had instilled.

Then the light.

The portal ignited. Violet. Blazing. The energy washed over the cave like a wave — hitting every surface, every body, every nerve. Both women — limp, vacant, broken — trembled. Their bodies convulsed. The incubus energy still in their nerves reacted with the portal’s demonic frequency, and for a moment, their eyes cleared.

The demon woman’s vision focused.

She saw the portal. The violet. The blood on the ground. Demon — hanging in the vines, his chin soaked red, his eyes rolled back, his body limp.

”Oppa — NO!”

She knew. She knew how the summoning worked. Knew the price. Knew what biting his own tongue meant in the context of a blood-price ritual.

”NO — NO — WHAT DID YOU DO — Oppa —”

She tried to move. Her body — still limp, still fucked-out, still running on the remnants of incubus energy — refused. Her arms gave out. She fell. Her ass went up, her face hit the stone, her legs splayed open. From behind, her cunt was visible — swollen, pink, the lips parted. Still leaking. A mixture of her own virgin blood and Viktor’s seed. The evidence of her destruction, pooled on the cave floor beneath her.

”Oppa — PLEASE — DON’T DIE — PLEASE —”

She crawled. Fingernails on stone. Knees dragging. Her tits — the long-nippled, bitten, swollen tits — scraped the ground as she pulled herself toward her boyfriend. Toward the blood. Toward the portal.

The summoning completed.

From the portal, a foot stepped through.

Then a leg. Then a body. Then she was fully visible — stepping out of the violet tear in reality like it was a curtain she had pushed aside.

She was tall. Ash-grey hair — long, straight, falling past her waist like a curtain of silver smoke. Her skin was pale — not human-pale, but demon-pale, the kind of white that glowed faintly in the dark. Her eyes were crimson. Slit-pupiled. Narrowed.

She wore almost nothing. A bikini — if it could even be called that. Two strips of dark fabric that covered her nipples and barely contained the heavy swell of her breasts. The bottom was a single strip that ran from her waist between her thighs, covering nothing, hiding nothing, a formality that made the exposure worse.

She stood. Arms crossed. Her crimson eyes swept the cave. Took in the scene — the two women on the ground, the vines, the bleeding man, the naked male standing with his cock in his hand.

Her lip curled.

”What a hassle,” she said. Her voice was flat. Bored. The tone of a woman who had been interrupted from something important. ”Will I have to kill a mere human? Is this enough of an insult to my—”

”Nora.”

The voice came from Viktor. One word. A name. Spoken with the casual familiarity of a man greeting an acquaintance on the street.

The woman startled.

Her crimson eyes snapped to him. The bored expression shattered. Replaced by something she hadn’t felt in centuries — surprise.

”You —” She blinked. ”How do you know my—”

Her mouth twitched. She looked at him properly. Took in the full picture. The pale, lean body. The incubus tail — scaled, prehensile, still lazily swaying behind him. The thick, long cock — erect, veiny, standing firm against his stomach. The heavy, hung balls beneath. The two women on the ground — their cunts leaking, their bodies trembling, their tits leaking milk. The pheromones. The incubus energy saturating the air, the stone, the entire cave.

She gasped. Small. Involuntary. Her nostrils had flared — the demon-kin sense of smell picking up the pheromone concentration, the sex-saturated atmosphere, the raw incubus energy that filled the space like fog.

”A sex demon,” she said. Her voice had changed. The boredom was gone. Replaced by something careful. ”What the hell — that was unexpected.”

She straightened. Planted her feet. Her expression hardened into the mask of a superior demon addressing an inferior.

”Why aren’t you kneeling?”

Viktor tilted his head. Amused. His tail swayed.

”Huh?”

The word was lazy. Almost gentle. The kind of sound a man makes when he’s not threatened and wants the other person to know it.

Nora’s eyes narrowed. She pushed. Her bloodline — one of the five heavenly demon lines, one of the purest, most powerful demonic bloodlines in existence — activated. The demon hierarchy. The ability where a stronger demon of purer bloodline could force a weaker one to bow. To kneel. To submit.

Viktor’s body reacted.

His knees hit the ground. His heart thumped — once, hard, the impact reverberating through his chest. His whole body was overwhelmed in an instant. The demon hierarchy was pressing down on him. His incubus blood — strong, but not heavenly-demon strong — was being forced into submission by a superior bloodline.

Nora smirked.

”There,” she said. ”See? That’s where you belong. On your—”

She took a step forward.

And stopped.

Her whole body flinched. The smirk died. Her crimson eyes went wide. Her hand flew to her chest — to her heart. She felt it. Something cutting. Something pressing against her heart like a blade made of nothing. A killing intent so focused, so absolute, so ’precise’ that it wasn’t a threat — it was a promise.

She stepped back.

The feeling faded.

She was sweating. Her pale skin glistened. Her hands were shaking. She looked at Viktor — still on his knees, still under the demon hierarchy’s pressure, still apparently subdued.

”What —” Her voice cracked. ”What is this?”

Viktor lifted his head. His eyes — still clear, still calm, still carrying that infuriating amusement — met hers.

”You see,” he said. ”I have the same plans.”