Lewd System: Every Scream and Moan is EXP

Chapter 241: Chapter 241: The Fuckin Truth[1]

Cleenah’s remaining strength was gone.

Not fading. Not weakening. Simply gone. As if someone had reached inside her body and ripped out every ounce of divine power in a single breath.

Her holy blade, moments ago blazing with golden fury, now carried nothing. Just dead metal kissing Jax’s sword with the weight of an empty threat.

Because the projection hadn’t stopped.

The scene had shifted. The village street was gone. Now the perspective of the tiny child was bouncing through a forest. Being carried in the arms of a man whose stride was long and steady.

Cleenah recognized the arms before the face came into view.

Then the child’s perspective tilted upward. Looking at the man carrying her with the trust only a child could possess.

Cleenah’s tears came before she could stop them.

It was her father. Ren. Younger than she had ever seen him in her own memories. Stronger. Healthier. Alive in a way that made the grief she had buried for years claw its way back to the surface.

The child’s voice rang through the projection. Sweet. Clumsy. Every word carrying the adorable weight of a tongue still learning how to shape language.

”Uncle Wen, why is papa so far far today?”

Ren smiled down at her. ”It’s because every year on this day, we celebrate the festival. Where we thank the gods for the wonderful life they’ve given us.”

He adjusted his grip on the little girl.

”And for the same reason, your father is, as usual, putting in more effort than anyone else to make it memorable.”

The child kicked her tiny feet with impatience. ”I get it but where is he? I gots a vewy important thing to show him!”

Ren chuckled. ”He would be either hunting some delicious beasts or collecting logs for the bonfire.”

The perspective shifted again. They had spotted someone ahead.

Azrakh. Lilith’s father. Gathering enormous logs and stacking them over his shoulder as if they weighed nothing.

Everyone watching the projection saw his appearance clearly for the first time.

He was shirtless. His body glistened with sweat from the labor. Two holes sat on his forehead where horns had once been, now filled with broken roots that had grown into the gaps like nature reclaiming what was taken.

A wound ran across his brow, old but deep.

And on his back, far worse as if the wings were ripped from him.

Cleenah’s eyes went wide. In the dungeon, Lilith’s tears had started falling silently. Seeing her father again. Alive. Even if only as a memory.

In the projection, the little girl squirmed free from Ren’s arms. He set her down gently, and the moment her tiny feet touched the ground, she sprinted toward Azrakh with all the speed her small legs could produce.

Which wasn’t much. But the effort was everything.

Azrakh heard the pattering footsteps. Turned. And the moment he saw her running toward him, he dropped the logs and knelt down with arms wide open.

She jumped. He caught her. Lifted her up and held her against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in existence.

”Papa! Papa, look what I did!”

She pulled a folded sheet from somewhere within her tiny clothes. Crumpled. Bent at the corners. But she held it out with the pride of an artist presenting their magnum opus.

Azrakh unfolded it carefully. Studied it with an expression of genuine seriousness.

Then he turned to Ren who had caught up behind them.

”Take a look at this masterpiece, Ren.”

Ren leaned over.

It was a drawing. Done in the shaky, colorful lines of a four-year-old’s hand.

In the center stood a little girl holding the hands of two figures. One was labeled ’Papa’ in wobbly letters. The other ’Mama.’ Both were smiling with exaggerated circular mouths and stick-figure bodies.

Behind them was another pair labeled ’Uncle Ren’ and ’Aunt Rosaline,’ both patting the little girl’s head from either side.

Several other figures from the village filled the background. Trees. A house. A sun with a face.

And at the very bottom of the drawing, a very tiny boy stood in a victory pose. Arms raised. Legs spread. A champion of nothing and everything simultaneously.

Azrakh stared at the drawing for a long moment. Then grinned.

”Ren, look. She put the most effort into my face. The rest of you all look like potatoes.”

Ren squinted at his own potato likeness and sighed.

Then Azrakh’s eyes found the tiny boy at the bottom. ”And who is this little one?”

Lilith puffed her cheeks with absolute authority. ”He is Todo! Uncle Ren’s son!”

Azrakh raised an eyebrow. ”Lilith, you can’t tell whether it’s a boy or a girl before they are born. And you certainly can’t name them like some pet.”

She closed her tiny fists and pouted. The kind of pout that could end wars or start them depending on the audience.

”I know it’s a boy! He told me! And the name is weally weally cute! We both agweed on it!”

Azrakh laughed. A deep, warm sound that filled the forest clearing.

He looked at Ren. ”Get ready to face her if you fail to meet her demands.”

Ren rubbed the back of his head. A man who had already accepted his fate.

Inside the dungeon, every person watching the projection had gone still. Seris. Ava. Celestine. Even Jax, whose smirk had softened into something unreadable.

And Cleenah. Cleenah who had heard every tale about Azrakh Vorlach. The Infernal Overlord. The highest-ranked threat during wartime. The demon whose very name made commanders rethink battle plans.

She knew the stories. All of them.

He was rumored to be one of the key figures who stopped the bloody war. And in doing so, he was stripped of his powers by his own kind.

There was a contradicting account she had extracted from a demon she once interrogated. That Azrakh gave up everything voluntarily. Not because of politics. Not because of strategy. Not because of rebellion or rage.

Because he wanted to live peacefully with a woman he had fallen for during the war.

And that had made everyone furious. His own race branded him a traitor. Some claimed he was seduced. Others said it was a human trick, that they would use him as a weapon against his own kind.