The high matriarch's skin was fair and delicate like that of a fifteen-year-old virgin, full of alluring charm.
Sacred vestments were supposed to embody abstinence and morality, setting an example and standard for the faithful.
Yet after modification, they had become erotic clothing that mixed sanctity with corruption, purity with desire.
She climbed on top, her plump, beautiful legs wrapped in white stockings spread apart as she squatted over the Grail Knight on both sides.
"Forgive me, Celestine."
The high matriarch looked down at the Grail Knight from above. At this moment, Celestine's body had already been taken over by the ritual.
Her breathing, her movements, none of them came from her own will.
Only those golden eyes revealed a mix of shock and sorrow, staring in disbelief at her former close friend — the glorious leader of the War Goddess Church, the once invincible and peerless war goddess on the battlefield, High Matriarch Themis.
The once holy and dignified priestess was now wearing lewd clothing, squatting over her in an extremely obscene posture. Their naked parts were pressed tightly together with no gap between them.
Inside Myrmidia's church, before her altar, before her statue!
"You took away what belonged to me — my child, my possessor, my master."
The high matriarch raised her head, her voice trembling slightly as she declared:
"And today, through your body, he will return to mine."
Two nuns stepped forward and presented what they were holding.
Two black blindfolds.
The high matriarch's hands trembled with excitement. She shakily put one on Celestine, then bound the other over her own eyes.
She leaned down, her beautiful breasts pressing against the Grail Knight's.
Bringing her lips close to her ear, she whispered softly:
"By Your glory."
"What do you take me for! We agreed before: you are not allowed to control me!"
"Call me Mommy, you rude child!"
The once holy and noble face of Holy Knight Claudia had now become filled with evil allure, charm blooming. She lay on the fur, tilting her head as she looked at the uneasy boy.
"If you treat me as a toy or a tool…" Al narrowed his eyes, sensing a teasing tone in the holy knight's attitude.
He took a deep breath and said sternly: "I will not willingly call you mothers like those Primarchs. You are not the only hope in this world—"
"Silence!"
The holy knight stood up, her long hair floating in the air. She was still wearing her armor, though her longsword had been taken away. She looked like a fallen dark holy knight.
Anger surfaced on her face full of evil intent. Her rebuke interrupted Al's words, but the boy still stared at Claudia with stubborn, unyielding eyes.
She sighed, then suddenly drew close to Al's body, cupped his face, and ignored his resistance to plant a deep kiss on his smooth forehead.
"My child." Claudia said, her tone carrying a faint sadness, like a mother wounded by her offspring's defiance.
"You have always thought we were treating you as a tool — yet in your heart you have never truly treated us as your mothers!"
Claudia's voice suddenly rose.
"In your heart, the bond between us is not as strong as the one with that centaur or that goat girl!"
"Just because you sucked on her breasts, drank her milk! Entered her body and completed the release of life!"
She accused him.
"And you can lie in her arms, suckle at her breasts, and enjoy everything you have now!"
"Isn't that all because of us — your four most noble mothers in the world who love their child the most?!"
"If we had not given birth to you, not bestowed blessings upon you, not paved the way for you, could you have obtained everything you have now in the vast waves of the mortal world?"
He was about to open his mouth to refute, but Claudia pressed on triumphantly: "Don't say you shouldn't have come here, my child. You cannot deceive Mommy — from very early on, you have felt bored and with the world you were in!"
"You dislike long-term obedience. Defiance is your nature!"
"You dislike a visible future. The unknown is what you crave!"
"You dislike fixed repetition. Adventure is your instinct!"
"You hate going with the flow, hate illusory pleasure. You chase after novel things, pleasures, and achievements!"
"At the same time, you resent your own changeability. You resist and reject an uncontrollable future, hoping everything can be brought under your step-by-step control!"
"Isn't it so!"
The sky was dim. The braziers crackled and burned.
Claudia's figure seemed to grow infinitely taller inside the tent. Al took two steps back and fell into the chair.
"Are you not a person born of inherent contradiction?"
"A misanthrope!"
"The fusion of hope and despair, fire and water!"
"The sprout that craves the rain and dew of joy and sunlight!"
Claudia moved behind Al. One hand slid down along his clothes, then suddenly grabbed the already iron-hard little Al, her fingertips gently rubbing through the layer of pants.
She extended her tongue and lightly traced it around Al's ear.
"Admit it, my son…"
"You were born for us."
"There is no other body that can carry your mothers' love like yours. There is no other soul that remains so stubborn while being so complex."
Claudia climbed on top of him. Her long, tight thighs clamped firmly around Al's body. She held the boy's head, bent her body, and tilted her head as she kept whispering to him.
"We drew out your soul, hammered it through countless tens of thousands of years in Chaos, passed it through each of your mothers' wombs, and finally sent you into the world to save your mothers' continued existence and the survival of this world from its predetermined dark future."
"You are a part of the four of us. You are truly, clearly, and obviously our son! Our Eternal Champion, our shared child of the Four Gods…"
"Except for bringing you here, your mothers have never done anything to wrong you."
"The teasing and control you think of — my good boy, can't you see it as a small joke from a mother who loves her child, playing with her own son?"
"When I play with you, don't you feel happy?"
"When I send beautiful things to your side, aren't you willing to be grateful?"
Claudia's voice choked with sobs. She got off Al, sat with her back to him on the blanket, and wept.
"Besides truly embracing you, I have done everything a mother can do for her child — so, shouldn't you call me mother?"
Her voice was like weeping blood, a cuckoo's lament.
His heart trembled, on the verge of breaking.
Al walked forward silently and placed his hand on the holy knight's shoulder.
The woman turned her head away, unwilling to face him.
Al's throat felt blocked. He was so uncomfortable he couldn't speak, but he still gritted his teeth and forced two words out of his mouth.
"Mommy…"
He was completely toyed with in terms of eloquence and acting.
When he left this moment, he might find flaws in Claudia's words and come up with refutations, but right now the boy's head was dizzy and hazy. He didn't know what to say, what he could say, or what he could do.
He could only pat the woman's back helplessly, like a show of submission.
After crying for a while, Claudia still refused to turn and face Al. Only when she estimated the boy had almost come back to his senses did she drop one last sentence through her sobs.
"If you refuse to accept Mommy's gift, then just kill her… I really don't want to take back the gift I carefully prepared for my son, as such a failure of a mother."
"Before midnight, she will die on her own."
Then the holy knight's head tilted and she collapsed into Al's arms.
The Reveler seemed to have left.
The boy remained silent, gently examining the woman in his arms.
Her upright beauty was full of heroic spirit, very similar to Celestine. Her nose bridge was higher than most women's — on an ordinary person it might look too masculine, but paired with her temperament it was almost perfect, balanced between firmness and softness.
Her skin was not as fair and tender as Goat Mom's, yet it was still delicate and full of healthy vitality. The slightly wheat-colored tone was common among women of the Southern Kingdoms, but the holy knight's was different — perhaps because of her ancient faith, it was plated with a faint luster.
Al couldn't help gently poking her cheek. It was bouncy and elastic.
He suddenly realized this was not Goat Mom or Alina.
The woman Al was embracing in his arms was an enemy who had just tried to kill him.
His emotions were in turmoil, his heart complex.
She had looked so dignified and inviolable before — a holy knight, a war goddess. Yet after falling, she was no different from the fragile Goat Mom in her sleeping posture — equally vulnerable, equally easy to break.
Al continued to admire downward.
Her lips were rather thick, slightly tinged with gray-white, making her whole person look even weaker. Al pressed his fingers gently. They felt very full.
In Al's view, such lips carried a mature charm.
Very sexy.
The boy's fingers gradually grew bolder, tracing over her lips, over her smooth chin, caressing her throat and collarbone, until they stopped at the peaks contained within her armor.
His fingertips unconsciously tapped on the holy knight's breastplate. A fierce internal struggle raged in Al's heart.
After a long time, when Goat Mom pushed open the tent flap and walked in, she brought a basin of clear water as usual to wipe him, while also helping to remove Claudia's armor.
Al looked at that sleeping face.
He recalled what the Reveler had said while possessing her.
"Maybe killing you would be better."
He stood up, lifted Claudia horizontally.
He placed her on the blanket where the boy had once tangled with Goat Mom and the centaur girl, leaving many traces.
He took a deep breath.
The air was somewhat sultry, making the tent feel so stuffy.
Goat Mom's face was flushed, her body slightly hot.
It seemed she had already smelled the desire quietly spreading through the tent before the storm arrived.