Ten days had passed since he first claimed Arwen.
Ten nights of raw, breathless fucking.
Ten mornings of waking up in her arms, legs tangled, her body warm and soft beneath his hand.
And during those ten days, Lucen had been grinding—hard.
Training nonstop.
With Arwen's full support, he pushed his mana to the limits. Between her healing, the passive stamina and mana restoration from their nightly sessions, and the Light Sword he'd copied from her, he was accelerating at a frightening pace.
If he pushed hard enough, he'd hit 3rd Circle right before enrollment—a close call, but enough to secure his place in Astrea Academy.
But Lucen knew something others didn't.
This world wasn't fair.
Especially not at the Academy.
Every year, the entrance trials weren't exams—they were battlefield chaos. A tradition turned bloodsport. Noble brats, beastkin warriors, princesses from neighboring empires, all tearing each other apart for top rankings. Sponsorships. Favors from Constellations. Some even brought in entire private mercenaries under the guise of "guards."
A mere third circle rank wasn't going to be enough.
Not for what he had planned.
Not for what he wanted to become.
That's when the system flickered again.
A new tab appeared next to [Affection] and [Desire].
[NEW STAT UNLOCKED: CORRUPTION]
Partner: Lady Arwen Ferndale
Affection: 100/100
Desire: 34/100
Corruption: 0/100
Lucen raised an eyebrow.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
The system responded instantly, cold and mechanical as always.
[CORRUPTION]:
A measure of how deeply the partner's emotional, moral, and psychological boundaries have eroded due to the host's influence.
High affection opens the heart.
High desire opens the body.
But Corruption opens everything else.
When CORRUPTION increases, partner becomes more… malleable.
Higher levels unlock additional skill transfers, unique dialogue options, new passive abilities, and deeper influence over behavior and loyalty.
CORRUPTION can be raised through:
– Emotional manipulation (guilt, possessiveness, need)
– Obedience reinforcement (reward/punishment behavior)
– Repeated transgression (acts that challenge moral limits)
– Public or humiliating sexual acts
– Psychological dependency (partner begins to feel they cannot function or live without the host)
Lucen read the list once. Then again.
His lips slowly curled into a smile.
So this was the hidden mechanic.
"Manipulation, huh?" he muttered under his breath, looking over at the familiar golden-haired woman busy preparing his training robes on the other side of the room. Her back straight, shoulders noble, movements graceful, her voice humming a little as she folded his collar just the way he liked it.
Lucen, curiosity burning in his chest, decided to test the new stat immediately.
He leaned back on the edge of his bed, eyes on Arwen as she smoothed his training robe across a hanger, her golden hair spilling over her shoulder. With a flick of his finger, he called out.
"Mother, come here for a second."
She paused, looking up, a gentle smile already on her lips. "What is it, darling?"
She walked across the room—shoulders straight, every step graceful as ever. She stopped in front of him, waiting, expectant and open.
He didn't hesitate.
With a swift, practiced motion, Lucen reached out and brought his palm down hard across her ass.
SMACK—!
The sound echoed, sharp and clear, filling the whole chamber.
Her gown did nothing to muffle it. Her body jerked in surprise, a startled gasp catching in her throat. Her cheeks—both sets—flushed deep pink as his hand left a perfect print on her pale skin, the gown riding up to reveal the mark.
She froze for a second, then looked back at him, lips parted, eyes wide.
He let his hand linger, rubbing slow circles over the spot he'd just slapped, fingers sinking into the soft, firm flesh.
Arwen shivered, her breath coming faster, but there was no protest—just the faintest, shivery moan as she pressed back into his hand.
Lucen grinned.
"Just making sure you're paying attention," he teased, voice low, fingers still kneading the spot. "You didn't mind that, did you?"
She shook her head, biting her lip, eyes bright.
"N-no… I… liked it."
He glanced at the system.
[Corruption: 0/100]
Not a single point.
She was already hungry for his touch—loving it, needing it. That was just affection, just desire. There was nothing to corrupt when she wanted it already.
Lucen leaned in, squeezing her ass one more time, thinking.
So just getting freaky isn't enough…
He'd have to go deeper. Push her further.
Challenge her comfort, her morals, her boundaries.
Make her beg.
Make her feel something she wasn't supposed to enjoy—
Or maybe, make her believe she can't live without him.
Lucen's hand didn't leave her ass. His palm squeezed and played with the warm, reddened cheek, fingers drifting lower to the crease between her thighs, then back up to knead her flesh again.
Arwen stood in front of him, face still flushed from the smack, her chest rising and falling a little faster now. She bit her lip, eyes dropping to his hand as he toyed with her.
He let the silence drag a moment, letting her feel every slow, hungry touch. Then his voice dropped—gentle, but with something heavier behind it.
"Mother…"
She looked up at him, her gaze open and trusting, body still pressing into his touch.
He met her eyes, calm but intent.
"If I asked you to do something for me… anything, would you?"
Arwen's lips parted, her breath catching. "Of course, Lucen. Anything you want. You know that."
He let his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of her thigh, slowly pushing the gown up a bit more. His thumb grazed the edge of her mound, warm and slick from the touches already.
He kept his tone soft, just a little darker.
"Even if it's something you never thought you'd do? Even if it's… different?"
She swallowed, her blush deepening, but she nodded.
"I'd do anything for you. I mean it."
Lucen leaned closer, his voice almost a whisper.
"Anything, Mother? Even if it's wrong? Even if it's something you could never take back?"
Arwen trembled, her hands clenching in the fabric of her gown, but her answer didn't change.
"If it's for you… I would. I want to."
His hand slid further, cupping her between the legs, rubbing slow circles over the warm, damp spot just above her slit.
He pressed his lips to her hip, kissing her through the fabric, letting his breath warm her skin.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and full of heat.
"I'm going to hold you to that."
He watched her reaction—her body melting into his touch, her eyes shining with trust and need.
No fear. No hesitation. Not yet.
But the door to something deeper, something darker, was wide open now.
And Lucen was ready to see how far he could lead her down.
The room was quiet but for their breath.
Lucen never rushed—he took his time, savoring every sound, every shiver.
He pushed Arwen gently onto the bed, her golden hair spilling over the sheets. He ran his hands along her thighs, his touch slow and greedy, spreading her legs wide and kissing her inner thighs, tongue tracing slow, lazy circles up toward her soaked slit.
Arwen moaned, her hands twisting in the bedding, body arching as his tongue flicked over her folds, slow and soft, just enough to tease. He licked her, sucked her clit, then pulled back every time she tried to chase more, smiling when she whined, desperate.
He kissed her hips, her belly, then moved up—mouth finding her nipples through the gown, sucking and nipping until they were stiff and aching. She trembled under him, hips rolling up, begging for more.
Lucen slid two fingers inside her, slow, then deep, curling them just right until she gasped, her thighs shaking around his wrist. He moved his hand, slow and steady, thumb working her clit, fingers pressing deep.
Her breath quickened, moans turning high and shaky as he worked her, keeping his own need in check. He watched her face, every twitch, every gasp, feeling her body build toward the edge.
He didn't let her fall just yet.
He slid his cock against her, rubbing it up and down her slick slit, pressing the thick head against her clit, making her jolt with every slow, heavy drag.
"Lucen… please—" she begged, voice raw.
He smiled, finally pushing in, slow, deep, filling her all the way, groaning at the squeeze but not letting himself go. He fucked her with long, steady strokes, hips grinding against her, hands holding her open.
The sound of her wet pussy, the slow slap of skin, her moans—all of it filled the room.
He watched her, saw the pleasure building, held her close as she started to shake.
"Come for me, Mother," he whispered, thrusting a little harder, a little deeper, his voice in her ear, his hand never stopping on her clit.
She gasped, her body tensing, then breaking—cumming hard, pussy clenching, hips bucking, soaking his cock as she cried out his name.
Lucen didn't stop. He kept fucking her through it, slow, relentless, working her into another orgasm, then another, never letting himself go, never losing control.
Her voice grew hoarse, her body limp and used, sweat slicking her skin, hair sticking to her forehead. She was a mess—blissed out, trembling, eyes glazed and happy.
And still, Lucen kept going.
He was nowhere near done.
Lucen never let up.
He kept her legs spread wide, his cock moving in slow, heavy thrusts—deep and filling, perfectly relentless. Every so often he would pause at the very edge, just the head inside her, then drive all the way in again, grinding his hips to press against her clit.
Arwen's hands clawed at his back, at the sheets, at anything she could find. Her voice was gone—moans hoarse, breathy, begging in broken little whimpers every time his cock pressed just right.
He watched her with a hungry, satisfied smile, seeing the pleasure build and crash through her over and over. Each time she came, her pussy squeezed him tighter, soaking his cock and thighs, her body shaking and twitching with the force of it.
Schlk—schlk—slap—slap—schlk—
Her whole body shivered, her legs twitching uncontrollably. Her face was flushed, eyes glassy with pleasure, hair wild around her.
Lucen kissed her hard, swallowing her cries as he fucked her through another peak, her hips jerking, thighs trembling on either side of his waist.
He was still in complete control. He let himself get close, so close, but always pulled back at the edge, focusing on her, coaxing another orgasm, then another. He wanted her to be utterly spent—no thoughts left but his name, no strength but to cling to him.
"Good" he murmured in her ear, fucking her a little rougher now, wanting to feel her completely fall apart. "Let it out. All of it. Just for me."
She couldn't even answer, only moan and sob as her body obeyed, pleasure wracking her one more time.
When she finally lay limp, soaked and boneless, he slowed, pressing kisses to her jaw, her cheek, her temple.