Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 1015: The Voyage

The Abyssal Sea Boat tore through the black, churning waters of the Myriad Reefs Sea Region. It was a massive warship, its hull forged from dense profound-sea ironwood, capable of withstanding the crushing depths and the highly corrosive ambient environment of the outer territories. Along the port and starboard flanks, intricate array formations pulsed with a dull azure light, projecting a heavy, semi-spherical barrier that violently displaced the heavy, toxic sea spray.

Three arduous weeks had passed since the group departed Abyssal Pearl City.

Navigating the Abyssal Dead-Zones required constant, immense exertion. The spiritual energy in this sector was not merely stagnant; it was actively parasitic. It was known as the Abyssal Nether Qi, a dense, viscous atmosphere that clung to the ship’s hull like thick mud, generating immense spatial friction that caused the ironwood timbers to groan continuously under the kinetic stress.

City Lord Hai Kuo stood at the bow, his hands locked behind his back. His Peak Core Formation aura radiated outward, actively feeding the primary navigation array embedded in the deck. Sweat beaded on his weathered forehead. Maintaining the heading drained his reserves at an alarming rate, forcing his internal meridians to operate at near-maximum capacity just to keep the vessel moving forward.

“The density of the Nether Qi is increasing by twelve percent every four hours,” Hai Kuo stated, his voice tight with concentration. He did not turn around. “We are approaching the outer perimeter of the True Monarch’s designated coordinates. Report on the aft stabilization matrices.”

Daoist Luo Cheng stood a few paces behind him. The massive man rolled his broad shoulders, his metallic skin scraping against his heavy leather armor. “The array formations are holding, City Lord. But the hull is taking heavy resistance. We are losing forward momentum. The tension is heating the lower decks.”

Further back on the main deck, Wang Jian sat cross-legged before a complex, glowing spiritual console carved directly into the floorboards. He kept his shoulders hunched, projecting the fragile, heavily strained aura of a cultivator whose foundation lacked raw power. However, his fingers moved across the runic dials with impeccable, blurring precision.

Wang Jian’s cover for this expedition was not that of a completely useless parasite. He played the role of a highly specialized, physically weak array-tuner. He possessed an incredibly sharp Divine Sense and flawless control over minute Qi circulation, allowing him to act as the ship’s internal regulator, constantly bleeding off the excess thermal heat generated by the ship’s struggling engine.

“Reroute the tertiary water-qi from the port side to the central keel,” Wang Jian spoke, his voice mimicking the strained cadence of overexertion. He manipulated a dial, shifting a blue stream of light on the console. “The Nether Qi is corroding the outer starboard barrier faster than the central engine can replenish it. If we do not balance the distribution, the hull will fracture within three days.”

Shangguan Wan’er stood a few feet away, her slender fingers sliding the condensed water-pearl beads of her Celestial-Tide Abacus. She wore a deep purple dress that clung to her curvy, plump hips.

“His calculations are entirely accurate, City Lord,” Shangguan Wan’er reported, her pale blue eyes tracking the structural stress lines forming on the azure dome. “The kinetic transfer of the sea waves against the degraded starboard barrier is causing microscopic fissures in the profound-ironwood. We must shift the internal pressure.”

Hai Kuo turned his head slightly, analyzing Wang Jian. “Execute the reroute. Your Dao Companion possesses surprisingly precise Divine Sense, Alchemist Mu. His cultivation base is fragile, but his localized Qi control prevents the navigation arrays from overheating.”

Mu Lianhua knelt beside Wang Jian, her azure robes explicitly accentuating her massive, bubbly cleavage. She fed him a restorative pill, gently wiping his brow with a silk cloth. “He is diligent, City Lord. His combat martial arts are negligible, but he possesses a scholar’s mind for spiritual circuitry. He is essential for maintaining our equipment.”

Luo Cheng scoffed, crossing his thick arms. “Utility is fine for the deck, Alchemist. But when the beasts attack, his delicate circuitry will not stop claws. Ensure he stays out of my line of sight when the blood flows.”

Wang Jian lowered his head, coughing lightly as he swallowed the pill, playing the submissive role perfectly. Yet, beneath the console, his dark, abyssal eyes flickered toward the center mast.

Lin Wanyue stood rigidly near the main mast. She wore elegant, flowing purple silk robes that clung to her massive, heavy breasts and exceptionally curvy, thick hourglass figure. She kept her gaze fixed firmly on the horizon, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Wang Jian for the entirety of the three-week voyage.

Yet, her body betrayed her at every turn. Her exceptionally wide hips shifted uncomfortably every few minutes. Her thick thighs trembled with microscopic spasms. Over the past twenty-one days, Wang Jian had relentlessly, silently utilized their proximity. Without ever breaking his disguise, he continuously fed microscopic, invisible threads of his Stellar Demonic Yang Qi into her lower Dantian.

Lin Wanyue lived in a state of perpetual, agonizing arousal. Her womb constantly throbbed, and her tight pussy wept a ceaseless stream of slick moisture that chafed against her inner thighs. The psychological torture of standing mere yards away from her husband while her body desperately begged for the demonic overlord’s cock had pushed her aristocratic Dao Heart to the absolute brink of insanity. She was exhausted, practically vibrating with unfulfilled lust.

Suddenly, the atmospheric pressure plummeted. The heavy, stagnant air above the warship instantly froze.

Before Hai Kuo could issue an order, the sky fractured.

The heavy, black clouds did not simply part; they were violently shredded by an overwhelming, descending kinetic force. The air itself shrieked as jagged, localized rifts tore through the atmosphere, displacing the ambient Nether Qi with explosive violence.

“Brace the core!” Hai Kuo roared, his boots slamming into the deck, his heels digging deep into the ironwood for traction. “Nine-Heavens Astral Gale! Funnel all reserve Qi to the overhead shields!”

The Nine-Heavens Astral Gale was a catastrophic weather anomaly unique to the Abyssal Dead-Zones. It was not a storm of rain or lightning, but a concentrated downpour of highly pressurized, spatial-rending wind blades.

The first volley struck the Abyssal Sea Boat.

CLANG! CLANG! KKKRRRZZZ!

The massive, semi-spherical azure barrier bowed violently inward under the immense physical weight of the impact. Dozens of ten-foot-long, translucent blades of condensed wind slammed against the spiritual shield. The resulting thermal expansion from the kinetic friction caused the air trapped beneath the dome to superheat instantly, searing the lungs of everyone on deck and threatening to ignite the wooden masts.

“The array cannot take direct, sustained impacts of this magnitude!” Shangguan Wan’er yelled, holding her abacus high, actively calculating the sheer, devastating tonnage of the wind. “The kinetic transfer will shatter the hull into splinters!”

“Then we break the blades before they hit the apex!” Luo Cheng shouted.

The Peak Core Formation expert bent his thick knees, lowering his center of gravity. He circulated his Qi violently, forcing it outward into his skin, muscle tissue, and skeletal structure. His flesh shifted from a dull metallic hue to a blinding, polished bronze, radiating an aura of absolute physical density.

“Profound Vajra Flesh Art!” Luo Cheng bellowed.

He lunged upward, leaping from the deck to intercept a massive wind blade that had managed to pierce the stressed apex of the azure barrier. Luo Cheng did not use a weapon. He threw a devastating, bare-knuckle punch directly into the descending current.

His fist collided with the condensed wind. The physical impact generated a deafening acoustic shockwave that rattled the teeth of everyone on the ship. The wind blade shattered into a dozen smaller, harmless currents, but the sheer momentum of the strike forced Luo Cheng back down to the deck. His heavy boots cracked the ironwood floorboards, sending splinters flying as he dug his heels in to arrest his backward slide.

“Do not attempt to block them entirely!” Shen Mengqi yelled over the roaring gale. The Fairy of the Silver Gale stepped forward, her massive breasts heaving against her tight white robes. “Deflect the trajectory! Use the existing momentum!”

Shen Mengqi snapped open her Piercing Zephyr Fan. She tapped into her deep reserves, carefully avoiding drawing upon her newly awakened Heavenly Yin Divine Physique to maintain her cover. She executed a flawless sequence of footwork, her body blurring as she stepped onto the ship’s railing, leaning precariously over the violent ocean.

She swung the fan in a wide, upward arc. She did not aim directly at the incoming wind blades. Instead, she generated a highly concentrated, localized updraft that intersected the descending spatial blades at an acute angle.

The collision of the wind currents caused a violent spatial friction, emitting sparks of raw energy. The trajectory of the incoming blades skewed severely, scraping harmlessly along the side of the azure barrier rather than striking it dead center, minimizing the kinetic load on the ship’s generators.

“Keep the pressure off the central mast!” Hai Kuo commanded, his hands glowing as he manually repaired the fracturing array nodes in the floorboards.

Wang Jian remained at his console. He did not cower, but he acted the part of a desperately overwhelmed technician. His hands flew across the dials, manually venting the massive spikes of thermal heat generated by the friction. He pushed his acting to the absolute limit, using a subtle water-art to force his pores to sweat profusely, making his face pale and his breathing ragged.

“The internal conduits are melting!” Wang Jian yelled, injecting genuine urgency into his tone. “I am venting the heat into the ocean, but the backlash is threatening the port stabilizers!”

“Hold the line, boy!” Luo Cheng grunted, landing heavily near Wang Jian after shattering another blade. The bronze-skinned cultivator was bleeding from several deep lacerations on his forearms where the spatial wind had cut through his ultimate defense. “If those stabilizers fail, the ship rolls!”

Hua Yimei stepped forward, her crimson robes whipping around her voluptuous figure. She summoned her Crimson Phoenix Zither. She did not play a melody; she slammed her palm flat against the thickest string.

“Sonic Resonance Wall!” Hua Yimei commanded.

A massive, invisible dome of vibrating sound erupted above the deck, acting as a secondary buffer. As the wind blades hit the sonic wall, the dissonant vibrations fractured their condensed structure, turning lethal blades into chaotic, harmless gusts of hot air.

The Nine-Heavens Astral Gale raged with unyielding, apocalyptic fury for four excruciating hours.

The continuous physical exertion and the heavy drain of maintaining the ship’s arrays took a severe toll on the crew. The breathable air grew thin and scorchingly hot. Muscles tore, meridians burned with overuse, and the ship itself groaned like a dying beast.

Finally, the localized spatial anomaly passed. The black clouds ceased their violent tearing, and the heavy downpour of wind blades subsided into a manageable, albeit turbulent, gale.

Hai Kuo collapsed onto one knee, his chest heaving violently. His Peak Core Formation aura was severely depleted, flickering erratically around his body. The prolonged strain of manually feeding the navigation arrays while fighting the Nether Qi of the ocean had drained his internal reserves to a dangerous, critical low.

“The ship’s core… is critically depleted,” Hai Kuo gasped, wiping a thick line of sweat from his chin. He stood up, his legs trembling slightly. “If we encounter a beast swarm in this state, the hull will breach. The defensive arrays are operating at fifteen percent.”

He turned his sharp gaze toward the heavy, profound-iron door situated at the base of the aft command structure.

“I must enter deep, closed-door meditation immediately,” Hai Kuo announced, his voice raspy and devoid of its usual booming authority. “I have to manually convert nearly thousands of Spirit Stones into pure Spiritual Qi to refuel the central engine, or we will drift into the void in one of these spatial tears.”

He looked directly at his wife.

“Wanyue,” Hai Kuo commanded, pointing a heavy finger at the aft structure. “Stand guard directly outside the primary control cabin. You are not to move from that spot. Do not let anyone approach the iron door. I must shut off my external Divine Sense completely to execute the fuel conversion without risking a catastrophic meridian backlash. The process requires absolute focus. My body will be entirely vulnerable for nearly half a day.”

“I understand, Husband,” Lin Wanyue replied. Her aristocratic voice remained steady, but internally, her heart pounded erratically. Half a day. “I will defend the door with my life.”

Hai Kuo nodded. He did not look at the mercenaries. He strode heavily toward the aft structure, pulled open the massive profound-iron door, stepped inside the cramped, dark control cabin, and sealed the heavy metal shut behind him. The distinct, heavy thud of the internal locking mechanism engaging echoed across the silent deck.

Lin Wanyue walked over and took her position. She stood with her back resting lightly against the cold, profound-iron door, her Azure Tides Heavenly Sword held firmly in her right hand, her massive breasts rising and falling with her measured breaths.

The rest of the group dispersed across the expansive deck to meditate and recover their own depleted Qi. Luo Cheng sat cross-legged near the bow, his skin slowly returning to a normal hue, though his wounds still bled sluggishly. Shangguan Wan’er, Hua Yimei, and Shen Mengqi found isolated spots, closing their eyes to regulate their breathing. Mu Lianhua remained near the center mast.

Wang Jian stood up from the array console, dusting off his black robes. He rolled his shoulders, working out the stiffness. He looked across the deck, his sharp gaze ensuring Luo Cheng was deep in his recovery cycle, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

He slowly, deliberately walked toward the aft command structure.

Lin Wanyue’s sapphire eyes widened slightly as she watched his tall, muscular form approach. Her grip on her sword tightened, her knuckles turning white. She desperately tried to project an aura of unyielding authority, but her body remembered the brutal conquest in the immortal cave far too well. Her heavy breasts heaved beneath her purple silk, the friction making her sensitive nipples ache with immediate anticipation.

Wang Jian stopped two feet in front of her.

“Halt,” Lin Wanyue breathed, forcing her voice to remain entirely steady, though it lacked any real venom. “The City Lord has forbidden anyone from approaching the door. Step back.”

Wang Jian did not step back. He raised his left hand, his fingers moving in a microscopic, virtually imperceptible blur.

He channeled his Stellar Demonic Qi, weaving it with absolute, terrifying precision. He cast a highly localized, centimeter-thin Shadow-Void Isolation Barrier. The dark energy expanded instantly, clinging directly to the surface of the profound-iron door behind her and forming a flawless, soundproof, Qi-masking dome that encapsulated just the two of them. To Luo Cheng or anyone else on the deck, Wang Jian simply appeared to be standing quietly in front of the City Lord’s wife, engaging in a low-voiced conversation about the ship’s repairs.

Inside the barrier, the ambient sound of the crashing waves and the howling wind vanished completely.

Wang Jian stepped forward, instantly closing the remaining distance. He crowded into her personal space, his broad chest brushing heavily against her massive breasts.

“You…” Lin Wanyue gasped, her voice dropping to a frantic, terrified whisper, her sapphire eyes darting wildly. “What are you doing? My husband is right on the other side of this metal! If he senses your Qi—”

“He has completely sealed his senses to convert the Spirit Stones, Wanyue,” Wang Jian interrupted smoothly, his voice a dark, commanding rumble in the localized silence. “He is utterly blind and deaf to the outside world. And this barrier masks everything else. He requires half a day. We have twelve hours.”

He reached out, his large hands grabbing her by her exceptionally wide, curvy hips. With a single, forceful motion, he spun her around and slammed her forward.

Lin Wanyue’s body hit the heavy profound-iron door with a muffled thud. The metal was freezing cold against her cheek and the palms of her hands. Her massive, heavy breasts were squished violently against the unyielding iron, the deep cleavage flattening out under the pressure.

“Are you insane?!” Lin Wanyue hissed angrily, her breath fogging against the cold metal. She struggled, attempting to push herself off the door, but his heavy, muscular body pressed firmly against her back, completely immobilizing her thick, hourglass figure. “You are a madman! Let me go! He is merely inches away!”

“The proximity is exactly what makes this so entertaining,” Wang Jian murmured, leaning down to press his lips against her neck, right over the erratic, racing pulse of her carotid artery.

He didn’t bother untying her elegant purple silk robes. He reached down and aggressively hitched the fabric up, bunching the expensive silk around her narrow waist. He completely exposed her exceptionally wide, plump buttocks and her bare thighs to the cold air trapped within the barrier.

Lin Wanyue let out a sharp, involuntary whimper. The sheer, undeniable danger of the situation sent a massive, catastrophic spike of adrenaline through her bloodstream. She was standing guard outside her husband’s meditation chamber, sworn to protect his vulnerable body, and yet she was currently bent over the very door he was resting behind, her bare ass exposed to the demonic overlord.

The taboo nature of the act, combined with the permanent soul-mark of his Heavenly Yang Divine Physique and the three weeks of agonizing, unfulfilled arousal, caused her physiological defenses to completely collapse. Her inner vaginal walls clamped down violently on empty air. A thick, heavy stream of slick, hot moisture flooded her core, weeping down her inner thighs.

Wang Jian unfastened his trousers. He grabbed her thick hips, his fingers digging bruisingly into her soft flesh to ensure leverage.

He positioned the massive, broad head of his fully rigid, heavily veined cock directly against her dripping wet, slick entrance.

“Brace yourself, City Lord’s wife,” Wang Jian commanded in a low growl.

He thrust his hips forward with brutal, unrelenting force, driving his massive cock completely into her tight, slick passage in a single, devastating strike.

“Mnnnph!”

Lin Wanyue bit down violently on her own lower lip to suppress a shriek of absolute, mind-melting physical ecstasy. The intense, scorching heat of his shaft filling her completely sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to her brain. Her spine arched severely, her curvy, plump buttocks pushing back greedily against his pelvis, maximizing the depth of his penetration.

Wang Jian began to fuck her relentlessly from behind.

Because they were pressed directly against the profound-iron door, he could not utilize long, slapping thrusts without the kinetic impact ringing the metal like a bell. Instead, he utilized short, incredibly deep, grinding motions. He kept his pelvis pressed firmly against her exceptionally thick ass, rolling his hips in a tight, highly pressurized circular motion that aggressively churned her inner walls and continuously ground against her swollen clitoris.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

The wet, sloppy sounds of their joined bodies were deafening inside the centimeter-thin isolation barrier.

“You are a beast,” Lin Wanyue breathed heavily, turning her head to the side, her cheek resting against the cold iron. Tears of intense, conflicting emotion pooled in her eyes. “He is right there… he is my husband…”

“He is a fool who left his beautiful, desperate slut standing outside his door for who knows how long,” Wang Jian replied, his voice laced with dark, sadistic amusement. He reached his left hand around her torso, sliding it inside the bodice of her bunched-up robes. He explicitly grabbed her massive, heavy breast, brutally kneading the abundant flesh and pinching her tight pink nipple. “Can you feel his Qi humming through the metal, Wanyue? Can you feel him trying to save this ship while I ruin your womb?”

Lin Wanyue could. Through the cold iron pressed against her breasts, she could feel the faint, rhythmic vibration of Hai Kuo’s Spiritual Qi working desperately to convert the Spirit Stones and keep this ship stable. The contrast was absolutely paralyzing.

“Ahhh… please…” she moaned softly, completely unable to contain the sounds of her pleasure any longer.

The sheer, terrifying adrenaline of the extreme proximity completely overrode her aristocratic pride. Her body betrayed her entirely. Her inner walls convulsed in a series of rapid, violent spasms. She climaxed with terrifying intensity, her massive breasts heaving erratically against the metal door, her thighs trembling so violently she would have collapsed if Wang Jian wasn’t pinning her up.

But Wang Jian was far from finished. This was merely the first round, and he possessed the stamina of a demonic god.

As her first orgasm subsided, leaving her panting and weak against the door, Wang Jian pulled his slick, hot cock out of her dripping pussy. Lin Wanyue whined in sudden loss, her hips jerking backward instinctively.

Wang Jian grabbed her by the shoulders and forcefully spun her around. Her back hit the cold iron door. She looked up at him, her beautiful face flushed a deep crimson, her sapphire eyes hazy and unfocused.

He didn’t give her a moment to recover. He stepped back slightly and pointed down at his massive, throbbing erection.

“On your knees, City Lord’s wife,” Wang Jian ordered.

Lin Wanyue didn’t hesitate. The psychological barrier had been completely shattered. She dropped to her knees on the wooden deck, her purple robes pooling around her. She looked at his heavy, semen-slicked cock hovering inches from her face. She leaned forward, parting her luscious lips, and took the thick head into her mouth.

Wang Jian grabbed the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark hair. He began to thrust his hips forward, burying his length deep into her throat. He set a demanding, ruthless pace, forcing her to swallow him entirely. She gagged slightly, her eyes watering from the depth of the penetration, but she bobbed her head enthusiastically, her tongue swirling around the base of his shaft.

As he fucked her mouth, Wang Jian reached down with both hands, grabbing the bodice of her silk gown. He pulled the fabric down, completely exposing her massive, heavy breasts. He squeezed the abundant globes together, forcing her tight pink nipples to point outward.

He pulled out of her mouth, a thick string of saliva connecting his cock to her lips, and immediately thrust his dick directly between her massive breasts.

“Mnnn!” Lin Wanyue moaned around her own saliva, her hands coming up to grip his thighs for balance as he began to aggressively tit-fuck her.

He used her heavy breasts as a makeshift pussy, his cock sliding smoothly between the soft, slick flesh. He pounded her chest relentlessly, the head of his dick repeatedly brushing against her chin. The sheer volume of her breasts provided incredible friction, squeezing his shaft tightly.

For the next four hours, the isolation barrier bore witness to an absolute, uninhibited marathon of sexual degradation. Wang Jian fucked her mouth until her jaw ached. He pounded her massive breasts until the skin was flushed and bruised.

When her mouth and chest were thoroughly abused, he hauled her back up to her feet. Her legs were completely useless, forcing him to support her entire body weight.

He lifted her up by her exceptionally wide, curvy hips. Lin Wanyue instinctively wrapped her thick thighs tightly around his waist, locking her ankles behind his back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her massive breasts completely crushed against his muscular chest.

Wang Jian positioned her above his cock and dropped her down, impaling her deeply.

“Ahhhhh! Master! Yes!” Lin Wanyue shrieked, her voice echoing safely within the barrier.

With her elevated, Wang Jian didn’t have to worry about hitting the door. He began to fuck her with long, brutal, slapping thrusts. He carried her weight effortlessly, bouncing her voluptuous body up and down on his thick shaft. The loud, wet slapping of their bodies colliding echoed continuously.

He pounded her against the profound-iron door, then carried her to the other side of the small, confined space within the barrier, fucking her relentlessly.

As the hours dragged on, crossing into the sixth, then the eighth, and finally the tenth hour, Lin Wanyue entirely lost her mind. The intense, continuous physical pleasure, the overwhelming flood of Stellar Demonic Yang Qi, and the terrifying thrill of her husband meditating mere inches away had completely broken her. She was no longer a City Lord’s wife; she was a desperate, dripping, cum-addicted whore.

She climaxed dozens of times, her body twitching and spasming uncontrollably. Her tight pussy was completely wrecked, weeping a continuous stream of slick juices that ran down Wang Jian’s thighs and pooled on the wooden deck. Her massive breasts were covered in bite marks, and her plump buttocks stung from his relentless spanking.

“Please… Master… fill me…” Lin Wanyue babbled incoherently, her head resting on his shoulder, her body entirely limp in his arms, held up solely by his strength and his cock buried inside her.

Wang Jian felt his own profound, terrifying lust reaching its absolute apex. He had fucked her into a state of total, biological submission.

He drove his massive dick in to the hilt, grinding his pelvis aggressively against hers.

“Take my seed, Wanyue,” Wang Jian commanded softly in her ear.

He released a massive, heavy, seemingly endless torrent of thick, scorching hot semen directly into her quivering, thoroughly conquered womb.

Lin Wanyue let out a long, breathless wail, her entire body stiffening as the hot fluid flooded her internal cavern. She clung to him desperately, her vaginal walls milking the last drops from his shaft, completely absorbing his essence while the faint, rhythmic vibrations of her oblivious husband’s Qi continued to hum through the profound-iron door.

Wang Jian held her close for a few moments, letting his breathing steady. The twelve-hour mark was rapidly approaching.

He gently set her feet back down onto the deck, supporting her as her knees buckled. He pulled his dick out, a massive amount of his thick semen dripping from her swollen, gaping pussy, running down her legs.

“Clean yourself,” Wang Jian ordered quietly, stepping back and casually adjusting his black robes, entirely hiding his massive dick.

Lin Wanyue leaned heavily against the profound-iron door, panting raggedly. She quickly used a specialized cleansing talisman from her spatial ring, wiping away the sweat, saliva, and semen that coated her body and the floorboards. She hastily pulled her elegant purple silk robes back into place, smoothing out the wrinkles, though her massive breasts still heaved violently.

She took several deep, agonizing breaths, forcefully circulating her Qi to regulate her erratic heartbeat and attempting to compose her flushed, thoroughly fucked features.

Wang Jian reached out and instantly dispelled the Shadow-Void Isolation Barrier.

The ambient sounds of the crashing waves and the howling wind crashed back over them. Luo Cheng was still meditating near the bow, and the other women remained precisely where they had been, completely unaware of the intense, taboo marathon that had consumed the last half-day.

Wang Jian gave Lin Wanyue a final, dark smile before turning his back and walking slowly back toward his array console, seamlessly resuming his disguise as the harmless, dependent Dao Companion.

Lin Wanyue leaned back against the profound-iron door. Her womb ached with a heavy, desperate fullness, her muscles screamed in protest, and her mind was a shattered mosaic of profound guilt and absolute, inescapable addiction.

Fifteen minutes later, the heavy internal locking mechanism of the profound-iron door disengaged with a loud clack.

Lin Wanyue straightened her spine instantly, her hand dropping to the hilt of her sword, projecting her formal, unyielding guard stance despite the intense soreness between her thighs.

The heavy metal door swung open. City Lord Hai Kuo stepped out onto the deck.

His face was pale, his eyes sunken, indicating the severe toll the twelve-hour, rapid Qi conversion had taken on his physical vessel. However, his Peak Core Formation aura was significantly stabilized, and the central engine of the Abyssal Sea Boat hummed with renewed, vibrant energy beneath the deck.

“The core is replenished,” Hai Kuo announced, his rough voice carrying across the ship, waking Luo Cheng from his meditation. He looked at his wife, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the deep flush on her cheeks and the slight tremor in her stance. “Is everything secure, Wanyue? You look heavily strained.”

“Everything is secure, Husband,” Lin Wanyue lied flawlessly, her aristocratic poise holding absolute, hiding the fact that her body was thoroughly wrecked. “The gale passed hours ago. I maintained absolute vigilance. No one approached the door.”

Hai Kuo nodded, completely satisfied with her unwavering, dedicated loyalty. He turned his gaze forward, looking out over the bow of the ship, completely ignorant of the fact that his wife had spent the entire duration of his meditation begging for the cock of the man sitting quietly by the console.

The black, churning fog of the Abyssal Dead-Zones finally began to thin, revealing the destination they had risked everything to reach.

Looming in the distance, rising from the treacherous ocean like a jagged, metallic tombstone, was a massive, uncharted landmass. It was entirely devoid of natural vegetation, its surface covered in massive, interlocking plates of ancient, rusted profound-iron and glowing runic pathways that hummed with a terrifying, ancient power.

“Prepare yourselves,” Hai Kuo commanded, a dangerous, greedy light igniting in his eyes, his voice echoing across the deck. “We have arrived at Myriad Refinements Island.”