Chapter 11: Apology
Rilith and Velara walked cautiously toward Yenissa's hut. The morning sun barely warmed their cold skin, their wounds still untreated from the previous day's events. Every step they took felt heavier as the memories of their past and the reality of their present clashed within them.
They knew what awaited them once Yenissa saw them—scolding, anger, or worse, punishment. Their so-called friendly relationship with her was a mere facade. They had seen the true Yenissa before, and despite her current demeanor, they knew deep down that she was far superior to them. If not for the circumstances that had changed her, they would never have dared to approach her so freely.
They knew her change was only a byproduct of Shennong's presence, otherwise she would still be Yenissa A'graval and not just Yenissa.
Their bodies shuddered involuntarily as memories from long ago resurfaced.
Agarima.
Agarima is the succubus dimension that nobody knew existed. Only succubi were able to freely enter and exit, mainly due to the power of the Succubus Queen A'graval, who maintained this dimension.
The air was thick with power, an oppressive force that made it hard to breathe. Rilith and Velara were on their hands and knees, crawling through the dirt with collars of Succubus vines fastened around their necks. Thick non metallic chains connected them to the woman walking ahead of them—Yenissa, the True Succubus. She held their leashes casually, dragging them along like mere pets.
"You two never learn," Yenissa mused, her voice smooth yet laced with cold amusement. "Disobedient little pets always need reminders."
With a smirk, she reached out and placed her fingertips against Rilith's back. A sharp sensation coursed through her body as the energy she had stored was forcefully drawn out. Velara flinched, knowing she was next.
Yenissa sighed contently, licking her lips. "So much better," she murmured. "You should be grateful. Your energy goes to someone who truly knows how to use it."
The memory blurred, but the pain and humiliation remained as vivid as ever.
Yet, after all this, when Yenissa left Agarima, Rilith and Velara followed her—not because they liked or loved her, but because they were addicted to her. They craved her scent; without it, they would go crazy. They knew most of the lower succubi were the same way, just as True Succubi were drawn to the Succubus Queen.
Rilith and Velara both trembled as they stood outside the hut. They had come to accept that they deserved whatever scolding or punishment Yenissa would give them. Greed had led them to follow Shennong's plan, and now they had to face the consequences. Taking a deep breath, they stepped forward and pushed open the door.
Inside, the room was eerily quiet. Instead of Yenissa, they saw Shennong sitting in a corner. His posture was hunched, and his face looked unnaturally pale. The weight he had lost was visible, his once composed figure now looking frail. His hands rested on his knees, fingers trembling slightly.
As soon as he noticed them, his body twitched, but he quickly composed himself. "You two..." His voice came out hoarse, but he exhaled and forced a calm expression. "I didn't expect to see you. I thought you might have already run off somewhere far away."
Rilith exchanged a glance with Velara before stepping forward. "Where is Yenissa?" she asked, her voice firm despite the nervousness in her chest.
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Shennong hesitated. "Inside. But... you should leave. Come back another time."
Velara narrowed her eyes, stepping beside Rilith. "No," she said, shaking her head. "We're ready for whatever punishment she decides."
Just then, their eyes landed on a silver-haired girl in the corner of the room, her wrists bound by heavy chains. She struggled weakly, her face twisted in pain or something similar as she had her whole face slightly flushed. Rilith and Velara frowned, their curiosity piqued. What was happening with her? What had happened to Shennong?
Before they could voice their questions, soft footsteps echoed from the back room. A presence filled the air, one that sent a familiar shiver down their spines.
Yenissa stepped out.
Both Rilith and Velara felt their breath hitch in their throats.
The woman before them was nothing like the Yenissa they had recently known. The signs of starvation that had plagued her body were gone. Her presence was overwhelming, her power undeniable. Her once weakened form had transformed into something far more reminiscent of her true self—no, perhaps even stronger.
Her wings had grown larger, their dark hues shimmering with power. Her tail, sleek and imposing, moved with a life of its own. And her body—her very presence radiated authority, confidence, and undeniable beauty. She looked taller, more refined, and above all, more dangerous.
Yet, her face was adorned with a cheerful smile as she greeted them.
"Ah, Rilith, Velara! I was wondering when you'd show up." Her voice was smooth and welcoming, but the two knew better than to be fooled by appearances.
They stiffened, but Yenissa merely chuckled. "Relax, my girls!" she said, waving a hand. "No need to be so tense. In fact, you should stay here from now on." She turned her gaze toward Shennong, her smile widening. "My son has a plan."
Rilith and Velara exchanged glances. Son? Plan? Something was not right. Yenissa's transformation, the atmosphere, the chained girl—everything was off.
And most of them smelled something strange in the room. It was a familiar scent that slightly moistened their vaginas, and they had suspicions about what might have happened. However, they had to question it because the Yenissa they knew would never lay a hand on Shennong.
Yet, Yenissa continued, her voice unwavering. "I've never felt more clear about something in my entire life. For the first time, I know exactly what needs to be done and I feel my bond with my baby is stronger. I know what he wants and I want to help him. He needs everything. I will bring him anything and everything."
Rilith clenched her fists. The change was undeniable. But the real question was... how?
Their eyes flickered toward Shennong.
He was looking away, an awkward smile forced onto his face, avoiding their questioning gazes.
Something had definitely happened here, and if it was what they suspected, would they also get a taste? Just from the scent in the room, they knew it would be the greatest meal of their lives.
***
The streets of Temaria were bustling as usual, but an odd sight quickly silenced the murmur of the townspeople. Three men, wearing nothing but their briefs, staggered down the cobbled road toward the grand ducal estate.
"Gods, look at them!" a woman gasped, pulling her child behind her.
"Are they drunk?" a man whispered to his companion.
"Drunk men don't look this beaten up. Look at the bruises!" another replied.
The murmurs turned into a buzz of speculation. Some pointed, others laughed, while a few muttered prayers under their breath. The sight was too strange to ignore, and soon, a small crowd had gathered.
Before the situation could escalate further, the heavy stomp of boots silenced the townsfolk. A group of guards pushed through, their leader—a burly man with a sharp gaze—stepping forward.
"Alright, that's enough! Move aside!" the guard ordered before turning his attention to the three men. His stern expression shifted into shock. "By the gods... Alec? Duran? Silas? What in blazes are you three doing?"
Alec, the tallest of the three, lifted his head, his expression dazed. "Roderic...? Thank the heavens, it's you..."
"What happened to you? Why are you dressed like that?" Roderic asked, eyes darting between them.
Duran shook his head. "We... we don't know. We were attacked—by something. When we woke up... Gods, Orin was burned. Dead. And the girl... she was gone."
A hush fell over the crowd. The murmurs returned, this time darker, heavier with tension.
Roderic's face darkened. "Come. We need to get you to the barracks."
The guards surrounded them, leading the three men through the whispering townspeople, past the grand gates, and into the Ducal barracks. Once inside, they were given cloaks to cover themselves before being escorted to the commander's chamber.
Inside, Sir Grimm Percival sat behind a heavy wooden desk, his expression unreadable. The commander of the Temarian Duchy was a man of discipline, known for his unshakable resolve. He looked up as the men entered, his sharp eyes scanning their battered forms.
"Explain," he ordered, his voice calm yet firm.
Alec swallowed, stepping forward. "We did as ordered, Sir. We tracked the girl, captured her after killing the boy who protected her. We were making our way back when... something happened."
"Something?" Grimm raised an eyebrow.
Duran clenched his fists. "We were attacked, but we don't know by what. One moment we were riding, the next... it was chaos. I remember fire. Screams. When I woke up... Orin was dead. Burned beyond recognition. And we... we were like this. Naked, weapons gone, the girl missing."
Silas, who had been quiet, muttered, "It wasn't human. Whatever did this to us... it wasn't human."
Sir Grimm Percival studied them, his expression giving nothing away. A heavy silence hung in the room. Then, without a word, he raised a hand.
"Go. Rest. You're in no state to speak further."
Alec opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he saw the look in Sir Grimm's eyes. He nodded, leading Duran and Silas out of the room.
As the door closed, Sir Grimm Percival stood, walking toward the window. He stared out at the grand estate of the Duke, his hands clasped behind his back. A deep sigh escaped him as he muttered under his breath.
"The Duke will be mad..."