"I hope you’re not asking what I think you’re asking," the Duchess eventually said after regaining her bearings, her expression even becoming somewhat cold. "I am far more powerful than Ebison, and your tricks won’t work on me."
Sylas hardly reacted to this. "You aren’t very good at listening, are you? I am not interested in you."
There was a flicker of something in the Duchess’ eyes, but her next words seemed to only prove Sylas correct. She wasn’t very good at listening.
"Maybe if you succeed this time, you’ll grow powerful enough to be my man. But I have no intention of allowing someone so much weaker than me to bed me, no matter how much potential you have. I would be dry to the point it would be uncomfortable for the both of us."
Sylas continued to stare at her. What was it with him and women who weren’t the best at listening?
"Are you under the impression that I couldn’t take what I want?"
The Duchess sneered, removing her hood and showing off that lovely face as though to provoke him.
"Do you think your Incubus Lineage is anything before a Sanguara? The moment I sense blood rushing to a place it shouldn’t, I would invert it inside out."
"My blood rushing to places it shouldn’t isn’t the blood you should be worried about," Sylas replied calmly.
The Duchess didn’t know what to say for a moment. She had never bantered with people like this before. No one ever dared to speak to her like this in the first place.
There were only five Sanguara in this world, stuck in a perpetual loop. Honestly, their sense of time, the future, and even the past felt so warped that it was hard to tell how long they had been here or if their lives truly followed normal progression at all.
There might very well be eight other versions of themselves, stuck in similar loops, experiencing similar things.
The Duchess couldn’t help but wonder if those other versions of herself would also fall for Sylas.
The thought snapped her back to reality. What did she mean fall for him? How could she fall for an F-tier? He hadn’t finished proving himself yet—
"What are you doing?"
While she was lost in her thoughts, the Duchess didn’t even realize that Sylas had already appeared before her, looming overhead, casting a long shadow that made her feel so very small... but it wasn’t in an insecure sort of way.
Unfortunately, it was the exact opposite.
The Duchess flinched, hearing her own voice back. When had her tone become so soft and weak?
Suddenly, she sensed a change to Sylas’ aura and she looked up.
The man she had become familiar with suddenly became softer on the edges. His hair became white, his skin a bit fairer. Honestly, the Duchess preferred the more rugged Sylas, but when she sensed the powerful waves of Demonic Will coming from him all of a sudden, her heart stopped beating altogether.
A Demon. A Demon more powerful than any she had ever sensed before. One with a Will that could crush her own.
She melted.
Sylas knew exactly what he was doing, and the heavy breathing of the Duchess made it quite obvious that it was working.
He wasn’t holding her neck with enough force to harm a woman that was so powerful, but it was clear that she liked the pressure nonetheless, even as she stood to the tips of her toes to try and weaken it just the slightest bit.
"I’ve heard... legends of the Charysm... I didn’t think... that I would be so susceptible... but I also... can’t wait to... taste your blood..."
Sylas could feel it. Her Pride and her Lust warring with one another.
Unfortunately for her, in the face of Sylas, what Pride was she allowed to have at all?
The *True Pride Seed* pulsed and the last of the Duchess’ resistance was broken. Her power pulsed outward in a wave of Aether and she shattered her robes and clothing, revealing a body of delicate pale skin that glittered beneath the moonlight like crystal.
"Take me."
The moment she spoke the words, her eyes seemed to lose a hint of their light.
The cognitive dissonance had grown too much. She, a woman with the second most Pride Sylas had ever sensed in one, had chosen her Lust over her face, begging a man for his touch.
And that was when Compelling Gaze was its strongest.
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