A month had passed. A month of a strange and precarious normality. A month in which the trio had developed a routine that was a three-act play: domestic life in the morning, a public farce at noon, and the management of their dark kingdom by night.
The scene began, like many others, in the bustling town market. Ari walked with a basket on his arm, flanked by his two "nuns." Thalassa and Vespera, in their human forms and dressed in the austere habits they had already begun to hate with all their souls, walked by his side with a feigned piety that was a work of art in itself.
They approached the baker's stall, a robust, kind-faced man who always saved his best loaf for them.
"Father Ari! And Sisters!" the man greeted with a radiant smile. "I saved the best bread of the day for you, fresh from the oven. It's a true blessing to have you in our community! You've brought a new light to the town... and to the Father."
Thalassa gave him a genuine and polite smile, a social skill she had perfected for dealing with nobles and dignitaries, which she now applied to the town's shopkeepers. "And it is a blessing to have bakers as skilled as you, sir. Your generosity is an example to us all."
As the baker wrapped the bread in a clean cloth, Thalassa communicated telepathically with Ari, her mental voice completely devoid of the piety her face displayed.
Ari suppressed a smile. NPCs. Consumables. I have no idea what she's talking about half the time, he thought to himself, but as long as she keeps smiling at me like that and the baker gives us free bread... she can think whatever she wants. She's adorable when she goes into strategist mode.
As they walked away, the blacksmith's young, muscular son, wiping sweat from his brow with a brawny forearm, saw them and approached with a flirtatious smile aimed shamelessly at Vespera.
"Sister Vespera," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "Those bags look heavy for you. Please, allow me. It is my duty as a man to help a servant of the Light."
Vespera's polite smile didn't waver, but it didn't reach her eyes, which for an instant turned cold as steel. Her voice, when she replied, was sweet as honey, but with a hidden edge the young man failed to detect. "I am immensely grateful for your kind offer, good man, but my husband is more than capable of carrying our burdens. If you'll excuse us."
Before the blacksmith's son could insist, Vespera took a deliberate step and pressed herself against Ari's side, looping her arm through his and clinging to his body. It wasn't a gesture of fear or shyness. It was a declaration of ownership. A way of marking her territory. Her gaze locked onto the other man for a split second, and the message was unmistakable: "He is mine. You are an insect. Get lost before I crush you."
The young man took a step back, intimidated by a force he couldn't understand, only feel. He stammered an apology and scurried back to the forge.
Ari felt Vespera's wave of possessiveness through their bond like an electric shock. It was a mix of pride, lust, and deep satisfaction. His heart beat a little faster. Oh, yes, he thought, a private smile gracing his lips. I definitely like this new Vespera. Territorial. Fierce. Confident. This is so much better than the finest wine in the kingdom. This is real.
The routine continued. They bought vegetables, haggled for some cheese, and listened to the latest town gossip. To the world, they were the reformed priest and his two devout and mysterious nun-wives. A strange family, yes, but a pious one. No one suspected the truth: that beneath those habits hid a Demon Queen addicted to strategy and a Succubus General who was growing more self-assured and possessive of her consort.
That night, back in the small, cozy house, the facade crumbled. Vespera was sitting by the fire, her face pale and her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Her human form, maintained with great difficulty throughout the day, began to flicker like a candle in the wind. For an instant, one of her large, leathery succubus wings materialized on her back with a dull thud, before she suppressed it with a groan of effort, bringing a hand to her back as if in pain.
"I can't..." she gasped, her voice frightened. "Ari, Thalassa... I can't hold it much longer. The day in town... smiling, being polite, keeping my succubus aura completely contained... it has completely drained me."
Thalassa, who was checking the dungeon's status on a mental screen, instantly set aside her obsession with Dungeon Points. Her "gamer" side vanished, replaced by the genuine concern of a friend, of an older sister. She knelt beside her and placed a hand on her forehead.
"Vespera! Are you okay?" she asked, her voice warm and full of a concern she rarely showed. "You're burning up! Don't push yourself anymore. Forget the facade. Go back to the dungeon through the nexus and recover there. Your well-being is more important. It doesn't matter what happens up here."
Ari approached them, his face showing a seriousness that contrasted with his usual mischievous smile. He put a hand on Vespera's shoulder. "Thalassa is right. Your health comes first. But..." a slow, suggestive smile began to form on his lips, "before you take such drastic measures, I recall having a new and very useful skill in my arsenal."
He looked at them both, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "[Mana Transfer]. A gift from the system for its loyal and self-sacrificing consort. And if I remember the fine print correctly, the transfer's efficiency increases with the intimacy of the contact."
Vespera, who in the past would have died of embarrassment at such a direct insinuation, looked up. There was a blush on her cheeks, yes, but her eyes held a needy and surprisingly bold glint. She was no longer just the shy recruit. A month as a succubus, a month of feeling her own desires without the filter of guilt, had changed her.
"Just... a hug, husband?" she whispered, her voice a direct and unambiguous invitation. She tilted her head, her fiery red hair falling over her shoulder. "I thought... I thought the description said that the efficiency increased with... intimacy." It was she who proposed going further, showing a new and audacious sincerity with her own desires.
Thalassa, who had stood up and was now watching the interaction from across the room, crossed her arms. She said nothing, but Ari didn't need her to. Through their bond, he felt a wave of pure jealousy, as cold and sharp as an icicle. It was a complex mixture: morbid curiosity to see how far they would go, a territorial possessiveness towards him, and a profound annoyance at not being the center of attention.
Ari gave Thalassa a reassuring smile over Vespera's shoulder, a gesture that said "everything is under control," before turning his attention back to the needy succubus.
"A clever wife always seeking maximum efficiency," he purred, his voice low and seductive. "I like it. I admire practicality." He leaned towards her. "Well, if efficiency is what you're after... I suppose a simple hug won't be enough."
He didn't hug her. Instead, he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her.
It was a deep, hungry kiss, a kiss that was not a simple transfer, but a reclamation. Vespera responded with a fervor that was no longer clumsy, but purely instinctual. Her lips molded to his, her tongue seeking his, her succubus body reacting to the dual influx of energy and pure pleasure. She pressed herself against him, her hands running up his back, clinging to him as if he were the only source of power in the universe.
A small screen, visible only to Ari, appeared in his peripheral vision, its blue text glowing softly.
Initiating Mana Transfer... Intimate Contact Detected! Deep Kiss! Transfer Efficiency: 85%. Optimal Transfer! Transferring 20 MP per second...
He could feel his own mana flowing into her, and in return, he sensed Vespera's whirlwind of emotions: relief, pleasure, overwhelming gratitude, and a growing, powerful lust.
The sound of a wooden chair scraping harshly across the stone floor interrupted them.
They pulled apart, a thread of saliva connecting them. Vespera was panting, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes bright and full of a new, vibrant energy. She no longer looked exhausted at all.
Thalassa was on her feet. Her face was a mask of cold, impassive indifference, but her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her red eyes, glowing with an overly intense emotion, betrayed her.
"Priest," she said, her voice so icy it could have frozen the fire in the hearth. "The transfer appears to have been completed successfully. The general is no longer in danger of revealing herself to the villagers."
Ari stood up, running a thumb over the lower lip of a dazed and satisfied Vespera. "Simply fulfilling my consort duties, my Queen," he replied with an innocent smile. "All for the good of the team and the safety of the dungeon."
Thalassa strode toward him. She moved with a silent, predatory grace that made the hairs on the back of Ari's neck stand on end. When she was in front of him, she grabbed the front of his tunic with surprising strength and pulled him close until their faces were inches apart. The height difference was negligible now; her presence was overwhelming.
"My mana is also low," she whispered, her voice low and possessive, almost a pout, a sound only he could hear. "Maintaining a stable nexus all day while you stroll through the market flirting with the fruit vendors consumes a lot of energy, husband."
Her red eyes stared into his with a mixture of reproach, longing, and a clear demand.
"And I," she continued, her warm breath brushing against his lips, "am your first wife. The Master of this Dungeon. Shouldn't you attend to me first, as a matter of hierarchy?"
She moved even closer, her nose almost touching his.
"I demand my... recharge," she murmured, the word vibrating against his mouth. "A maximum-efficiency recharge. Now."
The chapter ended there, with Ari trapped. Trapped between a revitalized succubus, now bolder and more aware of her own seductive power, and a jealous, demanding Demon Queen who was asserting her "conjugal rights." A smile of pure, absolute bliss spread across his face. His life of "sacrifice" was becoming more terrible and wonderful by the second. The harem game had just leveled up.
And he, without a single doubt, was winning.