*A bit long of an update, but you might not want to read all of it. First half is Vol 3 intermission for placement. Second half is for fun.*

Gazef Stronoff genuflected before King Ranpossa III of the Re-Estize kingdom. His frail and aging king sat upon his throne while quietly listening to Gazef's report from his recent expedition. The same could not be said for the rest of the room as the many nobles quietly gossiped after hearing many of the details of the incident. Many didn't believe him for the genuinely outlandish tale he told.

"Preposterous! An undead would never help the living! Your Majesty! I implore you to relieve the Head Warrior of his post! It is clear he is no longer fit to protect you if he feels the need to spin wild fallacies to cover for his failures." Marquis Boullope, head of the Noble faction, could no longer contain his feelings. While it could be said some of his ire was because of Gazef's report, it would be more appropriate to say that the story was just an excuse for him to challenge the king and express his distaste for the commoner turned Head Warrior.

Shouts of agreement and rose from his side of the room as the Marquis' supporters defended his claim. It would be a perfect opportunity to remove a distasteful figure from their presence. The king's own faction, the Royal faction, could only silently fume while glaring at Gazef. His words had put the king in a difficult position with no beneficial solution. They coveted Gazef's use as a tool, but still resented the man for what he was.

Because of the balance of power currently resting between the two factions meant the king had to be cautious or he risked sparking a civil war. He let the words fly from the lips of the Noble faction as they lambasted his prized warrior. It was only when words suggesting treason started to be bandied about did he raise a gnarled hand to silence the room. The pride and power of the nobles meant it still took almost a full minute for the room to completely silence. Only when the murmuring had stopped completely did he speak.

"I would caution you to not bandy about such flagrant accusations without proof. The Head Warrior has proven himself many times to me and those present. As such, I implore you to give him the respect due of such a venerable commander." The king paused to collect his thoughts and let the scolding of the more vocal nobles settle in.

"Gazef Stronoff, you have served me faithfully for many years. For that I owe you much. However, the tale you tell is too outlandish to believe. Do you have any evidence to support your claims?" The king's gaze pierced into Gazef's very core. He loved his king. He was even willing to die for him, but to not have his words be believed stung deep. However, he understood the king's plight and could only pray he didn't cause him more grief.

"No, Your Majesty. By the time my men and I had recovered, they were already departing. I regretfully was not able to attain any evidence or means of verification before Gown-dono and his party left the village. We were only able to recover the armor belonging to the knights who were attacking villages. It is of imperial design, but of higher quality then the standard issue model. It seemed to have had several enhancing enchantments placed on it.

Furthermore, I did not receive any method of contacting him or obtain evidence from the Scripture that entrapped us." Gazef was truly sorry for his failure as it meant his king had to suffer. And while he did his best to conceal it, some of his emotions trickled onto his face as the noise started to return.

"Hmph! You keep talking about a Scripture. Why would forces from the Theocracy have any interest in a small village?" The marquis' voice cut through the chatter like a sharp blade. His smug tone made it very clear that he didn't believe the Head Warrior at all.

'Because they weren't there for the village, they were there for me you damned traitor!' Those were the words Gazef wished to say, but he could only remain silent and receive the rebuke of his performance.

"…Or. Perhaps they were there to eliminate the undead. While I cannot condone such a violation of our sovereignty, everyone in this room is aware of the danger posed by the undead. Perhaps it was the one who was eliminating the villages and the knights, or Scripture if the Head Warrior is to be believed, were doing their duty for humanity and eliminating such a threat.

Of course the undead would work with you! Only you could have the strength to protect it from those trying to kill it! In your naivety and preconceived notions you may have caused our country more harm by letting the monsters go free!" The marquis face went putrid as he laid into the Head Warrior. But, Gazef couldn't just ignore the inflammatory remarks against the beings who had saved him.

"I pray you wait a moment. As I have stated before, Gown-dono wasn't alone. I must stress that one of his companions wasn't one of the undead. She was of a race I am unfamiliar with, but she used holy magic to heal the more egregious wounds of my men and I. Furthermore, they fended off the Scripture on their own when my men fell against their summons. Gown-dono had no need for my strength to survive." As Gazef fiercely defended the ones who had saved him, the marquis and his supporters could only scoff at his counter to their accusation.

If they could prove that it was Gazef's fault for the blood spilt, indirectly or directly, they would have ample enough leverage to have him dismissed from his post. One could clearly see their attempt to lay blame for the violent confrontation at his feet by saying he aided a threat to the kingdom and humanity. However, his assurance of the undead sorcerer having pre-existing relations with the living made it harder for them to claim it as a threat.

"I see…Gazef Stronoff, you have served as my right hand for many years. As I can tell you greatly respect those who saved your life, I have no interest in provoking them as thanks. However, one cannot ignore such a potential threat to the nation. Therefore, we will investigate further as to determine the intentions of this 'Ainz Ooal Gown' to prove definitively if he is a threat or not. Until then, I pray you all remain patient and do not act impulsively." The king carefully and eloquently determined what was to be done about Gazef's report.

Gazef, for his part, was disappointed more wasn't being done about the attackers, be they Imperial or from the Theocracy. However, he understood the king had little choice with such fierce resistance from the Noble faction and a precarious footing with Gazef in his own. He could appreciate his liege's attempt to protect his benefactor. The nobles would be forced to wait for an official report on Gown or be subject to ire and retribution for provoking hostilities.

"If that is all Warrior-Captain, I believe it is time for us to discuss our plans for the upcoming war that is due in a few months. Marquis Raven, if you would?" With his part done, Gazef posted next to his king to serve as a guard. He only absently listened to the dire report of the kingdom as it was slowly bled out. He could barely suppress his disgust for the snake-like man who flitted between each side like a bat, wielding unchallenged power in the process.

Eventually, the dry report was done and the gathering of the assembled nobles was complete. Once the last of the nobles had departed, Gazef quietly watched over his king as the man dropped his political mask, revealing a tired and worn out old man. Gazef quietly followed him as the king slowly made his way towards his chambers, his age evident in his slow pace.

They soon came across a beautiful young woman with rich blonde hair. This was the Golden Princess, third princess and favored child of the king. She was known throughout the surrounding nations for her stellar beauty and bleeding heart. She constantly proposed ideas to aid the lower classes by giving them the tools to improve themselves.

To those who knew her more personally, they knew those ideas came from an incredibly sharp mind that could only be called 'genius'. Following behind her with a serious expression was a young man that had an intense air around him. Much to Gazef's chagrin, it called to mind the image of a dog trying its hardest to please its master.

A bright smile blossomed on the king's face as his favorite child stopped before him. They chatted much more informally than one would expect of royals, the young princess even going so far as to reject the king's offer for a private conversation. Gazef could tell he wasn't the only one who was uncomfortable familiarity shown between the two as he looked at the tight expression on the young knight's face.

"Ah. Before you go, daughter. Please inform 'Blue Rose' that I have a request for them. I feel it would be best to keep the details of the mission from too many ears. I believe only their strength will be enough to bring me peace." The king spoke low to make it clear his intentions. Gazef had a feeling what the request was about. With that granny unavailable for some time, they were the only Adamantite rank adventurers in the kingdom.

Although, he doubted even they would be able to best those immeasurable beings in a fight.

"May I ask what the request is about, Father?" The princess asked. It was clear she had burning need to learn more about why the king would require her good friend's clandestine services. Gazef noticed that Climb, the young knight, pretended to not hear anything while gazing at a wall. Although…it left his charge unwatched and his guard down. He would need to properly instruct him in how to remain attentive at all times.

"I'm afraid the details are best left in private, but it has to do with Stronoff-dono's recent mission. I believe that both strength and finesse will be required as one wrong move could cause or nation great harm." The king was candid with his words. He knew his daughter was smart enough to know when not to press for more. It was clear that he had only stoked her interested, and that he would be discussing the subject in depth later. But for now, she needed to communicate the request with her good friend.

*Start of second part. Not much plot, but the last half(ish) of the read is similar to the Vol 1 epilogue, but with less tentacles.*

Clementine woke up in a damp cell. There were no discernible lights or other inhabitants of her prison. It took a few minutes for her to recall how she ended up there. She completely ignored the fact that she was naked. It didn't bother her in the slightest and it made sense for her captors to take her gear. Frantically, she remembered the state her legs had been in when she was captured. Looking down, she breathed a sigh of relief to see that they had been healed.

If her captors bothered to heal her legs they couldn't be that bad.

She slowly started to explore her cell, trying to find a weakness, as well as where the light was coming from. It didn't take her long to explore the entire cell, not finding anything besides a chamber pot under the cot chained to the wall. The cell was made entirely of stone except for a heavy metal door. The door was a solid slab with no bars or openings, just a small flap at the bottom presumably for food and such.

That would be her way out.

It became a waiting game as she prepared herself for an opening to escape. Every so often the flap would be opened, and food and water would be pushed through on a tray. If she pushed her chamber pot through the hole while it was still open a fresh one would take its place. Her captors really were too kind for their own good. She'd never talk like this.

She soon lost all track of time. The lack of day-night cycles and any frame of reference made it impossible to create a pattern. The meal times weren't even regular. The struggle became to keep her body in good shape while trapped in the cell. She could do muscle training but could hardly practice her agility-based skills in the cramped quarters. Eventually, she realized that her skills would degrade enough that she couldn't escape unless she made a move.

She had finally timed the duration of her feedings down to the second. It was the only time any part of her cell opened while she was awake. It was her only chance of breaking out. Her plan was simple. She would use the chamber pot and the empty food tray to grab at the limb of whoever guarded her cell. It was unlikely they would be able to deny her strength. She would then incapacitate them by slamming them into the door.

The unpleasant part came next. She would have to dislocate her shoulder to contort her arm enough to reach around for keys and unlock the door from the other side. Painful, but something she could do. After that, she would have to find a way to open the door. Hopefully, she would have enough time once it was open to grab a weapon and find an exit.

Her plan went off without a hitch. After she had opened the door to her cell she had grabbed a tray as a make shift weapon. The skeleton that had been feeding her stood no match against her even bare handed. She moved quietly through the dim halls of whatever prison she was thrown in. With so many low-level undead around it was clear she wasn't handed over to the regular authorities, so she was on her own.

She eventually came across a dead end, a hallway with a series of doors. Subtly, she checked each one, finding two were unlocked. Checking both, she found one leading into a room with several undead. The other room was empty, save for an alcove with undiscernible items. There was no way for her to beat the undead in the other room naked and with a tray. Wary of traps, she checked the alcove. She was pleasantly surprised to find her gear and several other valuable items. It must have been a weapons room.

Once more comfortably in her gear, Clementine moved back to the other room. Using her assorted martial arts to blast through the undead, she easily beat them and polished off the rust in her skills. Once it was clear, she found another pathway. Heading down the path, she made sure to silently take out anything that could raise and alarm.

After a while, her sense of direction was shot. She had made so many twists and turns that the only thing she could tell was that she was going 'up'. She finally came across a room that she had to go through to advance. Inside was an elder lich, its rotted face watching the door. Knowing she had no choice, but that she could win, she gambled that she could finish it off before anyone else came.

Moving in, she started activating her martial arts. It would pay to be cautious. The lich noticed her immediately. Its grotesque, rotten face grinned when it saw her.

"Ah…my old acquaintance. You must be trying to escape. No matter, I will stop you here. Behold! My form given to me by the Supreme One. I am no mere lich, and I will enjoy putting you in your place. You will come to understand, just as I have." Clementine's eyes widened in recognition. It looked as if Khajiit got his wish and became a lich. And by his tone, he was stronger than a normal lich. She would have to be careful, her old partner knew many of her skills and tricks, putting her at a disadvantage.

"Ahn~ you aren't looking so go~od Khajiit-kun~. I'll try and fix that. Please, let~me~take~care~of~you." Goading him into action, Celemtine leapt out of the way of the Lightning sent her way. Rushing forward, she used her impressive speed to close the gap. Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Khajiit-lich summoned several undead warriors to protect him. Knowing better than to get in a slugging match, she darted in between their defenses to strike at their summoner.

This went back and forth for some time, with the occasional spell being sent her way. She would sometimes get lucky and release one of her charged spells onto Khajiit-lich, the potent magic proving effective against him. Sometimes, she was also unlucky. An ill-timed movement allowing a warrior to draw blood or bruise her. It was tiring, but she eventually brought Khajiit-lich to his knees. She had exhausted his mana and weakened him enough that he couldn't resist when she destroyed his summons.

"NO! My Lord, I have failed you! You! You will never get out of this place! My Master's strength is unfathomable!" A raging Khajiit-lich knelt in front of her, beaten.

"Ah well~! If he's a magician I can't wait to cut him up~!" With that, she delivered a savage blow, ending her old compatriot's unlife. Just as suddenly, the door he had stood in front of opened. A towering demon with a wrathful look on his face pressed its massive body into the room.

Hoping to strike it down in one blow, she lunged at the monster…

Only for a massive hand to casually pluck her from the air. It completely ignored all of her struggles as it started marching with a purpose back the way she came. It seemed completely disinterested in her, like it was looking at a worm that crawled about its feet. Anything she did, hitting it, biting it, using her last charged spell, even trying to seduce it were all completely ineffectual.

It swiftly reached her old cell, tossing her in before slamming the door shut. She was glad her gear hadn't been taken, but she was back to square one. Digging in to the uneaten meal she had left in her haste, she thought over everything. With dawning horror, she realized that they, whoever they were, had let her escape. They had wanted to test something about her, what that was she had no idea. She would just have to wait. Her spirit weakened, she forced herself to sleep over dull pain of her injuries.

When she woke up, she felt refreshed. To her shock she had been healed in her sleep, not a trace of her wounds remaining. Another light meal had been placed in her room in front of a wall that had moved to reveal a passage. Knowing she needed her strength, she wolfed down the food and water before slowly making her way into the dark.

She eventually came upon an open room with three beings. One was the demon from before looking on disinterestedly, the other were two skeleton warriors. But they obviously weren't normal going by their elaborate breastplates and menacing hammers that both hummed with magic. When it saw her, one of the skeletons rushed forward swinging its hammer. By the speed and viciousness of its swing that its strength matched its high-end gear. She leapt into action, fighting for her life.

It was a hard-fought battle, but she eventually defeated the skeletons. As soon as the monsters fell, the demon strode forward. It deftly grabbed her by the hair before dragging her back to her cell, throwing her in before leaving again, the wall sealing behind it. She went to sleep and woke up to another meal and her injuries healed. Heading back down the hall, hoping it was some test she could pass to win her freedom, she came back to the room.

This time there were four skeletons.

Over and over, this was repeated. Each time, she would fight a stronger, varied, or more numerous opponents. After the fight, she would be taken back to her room forcefully. There, she would eat and rest, her wounds always healed when she woke up. Eventually, she couldn't win the fights. The battles became more and more lopsided as she was crushed every time. But, they didn't kill her, if she passed out or was about to be struck down her opponents would stop.

She finally realized that it was no test and she had no hope. An attempted escape like before ended much the same as her first try. Her spirit was slowly crushed as she was turned into nothing more than a punching bag and battle dummy for her 'opponents'. All the while, the demon looked on disinterestedly.

Eventually, she had had enough. She did everything in her power to kill herself on a blade in her fights. She even got desperate enough to turn her blades on herself. That just made them take her weapons away. When she finally gave up, not resisting at all when attacked, the demon finally stepped in. Her dead eyes looked up into his. Within, she could see a glimmer of pleasure at her broken state. Her spirit was crushed. She had once been a member of the Black Scripture. Now, she was a slave.

"Please… I have information… just don't make me fight anymore." Defeated, she vowed to give up her secrets of the Theocracy. It wasn't much, she had left shortly after joining, but she would do anything to end her current torment. It wasn't like she had loyalty to the Theocracy, she just feared retribution more than torture. Until now. She was just silently thrown back into her cell. The next time she woke up, she waited silently in her cell until the demon came and dragged her somewhere.

She was brought to an office with a man(?) in a suit sitting at an admittedly beautiful desk. She was forced to stand in front of the man as he watched her with a malicious smile. She told everything. Anything she remembered from Zuranon and the Theocracy came tumbling out. The man silently wrote notes on a piece of parchment, occasionally asking her to clarify or elaborate. She kept talking, even when her throat started to hurt, until she had said everything she knew.

"Well, this is quite interesting. I promise that you won't be fighting anymore. We learned what we needed to, so you are free from that obligation. Wrath, take her. You know what I want done with her." Dismissed, she was dragged away from the man(?) and taken back to her cell. She could only sigh in relief at not having to fight.

*Beginning of lemony flavors*

Back at her cell, she tried to figure out what the man(?) meant. Given the fact that demons and undead were abundant wherever she was it probably wouldn't be good. Thinking quickly, she desperately tried to find a way to make whatever fate awaited her more comfortable. The only thing she could think of was somehow making the demon who watched her favor her. Desperately, she used the last talent she had.

"Hey~…It gets lonely. Could you keep me company~?" She did her best to sound sexy. She knew her form was desirable to men, and when she looked up at the demon with a fire in her eyes she saw he appeared interested as well. The massive demon pressed into her room. It had been given clear reign over her care, so long as certain tests were performed.

This could be counted as a preliminary test. He needed to make sure she could handle it.

He would also break her. Even after all this, she still had a bit of arrogance. He had enjoyed destroying her hope to escape and arrogance as a fighter. Now, he would destroy her as a woman. His massive hands easily ripped through her gear, destroying the worthless trash and exposing her toned but feminine form. Her items of value were already taken, and she wouldn't be needing any clothes anymore.

Her form was admittedly attractive, for a human, and as a high-level demon he enjoyed all the cardinal sins. Just because he's Wrath, it doesn't mean he wouldn't enjoy an innocent young girl tearfully servicing his cocks while he dines on her family's flesh and enjoys a sunny day in her raided and burning manner. That was, in fact, his ideal way to relax after his sometimes-stressful work.

He swiftly revealed a solid body full of muscle, as he never wore dedicated clothes. His members were just as demonic as his body as they were exposed from their pouch. They were long and thick, covered in thick veins and nobs with flared heads. The thought of breaking the woman before him made them harden out to a length of at least a foot and as big around as her wrists.

Clementine looked fearfully at the huge cocks. She was no stranger to sex, but several members of such size at the same time would be new. Although, it could be pretty fun too. Eagerly, she dove at the demon who had silently watched her for so long, greedily pressing her body against his. She didn't hesitate to assault his mouth with her tongue, his own thick slab dominating her smaller mouth. She began to gyrate against his body, pressing her thighs against his rods.

Getting tired of the sweet foreplay, Wrath set about abusing her body. He swiftly pressed his cocks against her holes, soon finding purchase. He brutally pressed into her, not caring about her cry of pain as his dry members abused her nearly as dry flesh. He began humping into her with great force, his immense strength sending her body thrashing around on his two poles. Enjoying the deep pleasure and tightness, he bit down harshly on her nape. His strong jaw and sharp teeth had no trouble breaking her shoulder and latching onto her flesh.

However, she was used to pain. But she hadn't experienced pleasure of any kind for an inordinate amount of time while as a prisoner. Soon, the wonderous feelings started to override her pain, making her pussy wet and her body flush as she drowned in pleasure. It all became a blur to her as she was abused past her physical limit. Until, with a tremendous roar, powerful seed was shot into her depths, filling both of her holes to the brim.

Pulling her limp body off of his dicks, Wrath looked down upon her wrecked form as his cum dribbled out of her. But, he wasn't happy. Her pride and sanity had not fallen to his harsh abuse. Instead, they had risen with the pleasure she had derived after overcoming the pain.

He would need to be more extreme from now on.

When Clementine woke up, she was alone in her cell again. Her body had been healed of any marks but there was still a lingering ache in her lower half. She was also hungry. The meal that was normally there was absent, leaving her to wonder what had changed. Soon after waking up, her demon lover(?) came in and dragged her out. By then she was completely used to being treated like that, and just did her best to ignore the pain while looking around.

She was eventually brought to a large room. The air inside was cool to her bare skin, causing her nipples to go erect and hard as she focused on the room. It was filled with dozens of monstrous undead. They were called Death Knights, and she had learned about them before fighting one in her 'battles'. They were incredibly strong, and she was no match for one without equipment left behind by the gods.

The massive group of powerful undead approached the two, a fire in their red eyes. Wrath then threw her naked form down in front of them as they closed in. Clementine was genuinely fearful for her life. She knew what happened to their victims and she stood no chance against so many while naked. She didn't want to be turned into an undead.

"She's all yours. Make sure you don't kill her and let us know if IT happens. I'll come by every so often." With that, the demon who had watched her for so long turned and walked away. As the door shut behind him, the clawed hands of the monsters she was trapped with reached out to grab at her form. She cried out in fear and desperation as they roamed over her bare body.

Before she realized it, all the Death Knights were naked as well, their heavy armor lying in piles around the room. Their bodies were just as monstrous as their faces. With huge frames of greying flesh that looked half rotten, they were a grotesque sight. Their members were just as bad as their body. Easily reaching 10 inches and nearly as thick as Wrath's, they pressed in around her with vigor, the hard flesh slapping at her body.

She finally understood what was to happen to her.

She was to be a test to see if they could impregnate her. Why they wanted to know, she didn't care. All that mattered was that she would be used until she couldn't be anymore. There was no chance of escape. Even in her fearful state, as the gang of undead roamed over her soft flesh, she cried out for help. She begged to be left in her cell. She pleaded for the fights to return.

Anything but what was about to happen.

When she was finally positioned, one of the undead slammed home into her dry pussy, drawing blood from his forcefulness. As she screamed in pain, another member was shoved into her mouth. It's putrid stench of rotting flesh and unwashed bodies made her cry as she gagged around its massive girth. It didn't take long for another to end up below her, thrusting into her ass as her pussy was gouged out and her throat was raped raw.

Any semblance of resistance was eaten away as each Death Knight shot load after load of thick, hot spunk into her, only for another to immediately take its place. As time passed the only rest she got was when she passed out from exhaustion. She was used even in her sleep. The only food she was given was the smelly, chunky semen shot down her throat. Over time, the constant use and surprisingly rich cum transformed and corrupted her body from its athletic state into a plump, soft form that was easy to abuse and ready to bear children.

Her mind had completely shattered, leaving a blank husk in its wake. Even as more and more Death Knights were placed into the room, she couldn't muster up any hope to resist. Slowly, her shattered psyche was put back together. The only thing she could focus on was the slight differences in the cocks continuously pounded into her. So, that was what she was familiar with. Eventually, she had internally named each of the Death Knights who constantly used her, religiously devoting herself to learning about each new one.

At some point, she didn't know when, she was put down. She had been with every single Death Knight in the room so many times she couldn't count. They had finally become tired of her as her holes dripped with cum and her body was drenched in semen. She lay where she was dropped catatonically. It was the first time in however long a cock wasn't in each hole. As the Death Knights walked away, their cocks limp from use, what was once Clementine pieced together what was happening.

'Its quiet! Quiet! NO!...I'm hungry. Hungry. Hungry! No! Their Leaving me! I'm EMPTY! How? How? YES! Babies! Then they'll stay! It won't be quiet! I won't be ALONE!'

"AHN~. Come back here my husbands~." With a lewd smile on her face and disturbing eyes, she sat up to look at the backs of the Death Knights she called her husbands. They all turned to look at her, their grey flesh turning hard again upon seeing her perverted state. Sitting there, drenched in cum and her holes leaking their spent seed, she spread her legs invitingly to her beloveds.

"I need your cocks~…So, please. Im~preg~nate~ me~!" As she opened up her soft holes for her husbands' cocks to come back and fill them, she eagerly awaited the eternal pleasure the approaching horde would bring her.

*Some time later*

Wrath and Demiurge walked into the cavernous room where the created Death Knights were stored. There were so many that there was no where else to put them, so they all waited in the one room for orders. Inside, they could see the Death Knights crowded in a circle, many of them in various states of undress. They quickly parted for the demons as the two went into the circle.

At the center was a pale skinned woman being thrusted into from below by two Death Knights. Their grotesque members pistoned in and out of her, shaking her soft flesh and rocking her swollen belly. Her eyes full of pleasure, she greedily sucked on the tongue of one of the Death Knights, her expression bliss as she enveloped it with her arms. Upon seeing them, she detached from her partner's rotted lips and looked at them in confusion.

"Ara~ Do you have new husbands for me~?" She asked. Demiurge just smiled widely.

"No, I'm here to see how you are doing. Are you ready to give birth?" He asked, looking at her massive belly. Gently rubbing her taut stomach, a motherly smile appeared on her face, the serenity of it completely destroyed by her cum-drenched image and the two cocks thrusting into her.

"Yes~! I can't wait to have my hus~bands' babies. I hope there are lots of them~." Demiurge was quite happy with her answer. He had finally gotten an undead to impregnate the living, an important first step in allowing his Master to have an heir. There appeared to be an acclimation period as the living adapted to the corruption of the undead, but that was a minor problem he could test further. The important part was two beings of equal strength could bear a child, even if one was undead. His business done, he turned and walked away, Wrath following obediently behind him.

"By now~. Now, my Beloved Husbands, where were we?" As he left the room, he could here the moans and slapping of wet flesh that had remained constant increase in quantity as his little experiment went back to her job of producing the unholy abominations she called babies.