Deviant: No Longer Human

Freya\'s face changed into confusion, a barrage of question marks filling her expression, as Wang Xiao\'s hand unexpectedly landed on her head.

!!

Just as she lifted her gaze to protest, she froze, trapped by the intensity of Wang Xiao\'s piercing eyes, his smile sending shivers down her spine.

"Girl, I would suggest you keep that little tongue of yours in check, or next time I might just cut it down and shove it where the sun don\'t shine."

A sharp inhale escaped Freya as she flinched, her nodding quick and fervent. "Hm! Hm!"

There was no doubt in her mind.

She was certain he would follow through.

As Wang Xiao finally departed, leaving behind an eerie silence, Freya couldn\'t help but release a sigh of relief, her hands instinctively moving to her backside, inspecting them for any signs of—

With a heavy exhale, she allowed herself a moment of respite, grateful to have escaped unscathed—for now.

________

In the heart of Transylvania, Romania, nestled on the fringe of civilization, stood the most imposing castle, its silhouette a haunting specter against the bright sky.

*Thud!*

"Haaaaa!..." A sharp exhalation pierced the silence, a plume of smoke swirling into the air, as a man\'s form crumpled to the aged wooden floor with a graceless thump.

He slouched, his back pressed against the bed\'s sturdy base, the cold wood a stark contrast to his heated skin.

Bare, his body radiated an unearthly luminance, a ghostly white that seemed alien to mankind.

The room around him was thick with a pungent, almost tangible aura of desolation, the air heavy and suffocating.

Through the haze, his eyes shone with an ethereal blue light, as if harboring the depths of the sky, while his skin gleamed with an unnatural luminescence.

Scattered around him, the room was a tableau of decadence and despair, with more than ten women in various states of undress and unconsciousness.

"Ugh..."

"Gr..."

Their bodies were strewn across the floor like discarded dolls, twitching slightly, their legs spread apart, marred by bruises and marks that told tales of the u speak horror last night.

Yet, amidst the chaos, the man appeared as if plucked from the pages of a dark fairy tale, his blonde hair cascading down his shoulders in a golden waterfall, soft and lustrous, a stark contrast to the scene of debauchery.

His voice, a low growl, broke the silence, filled with impatience, "Hey! What happened to the princesses? It\'s already the middle of the year; why aren\'t they here yet?" Rising to his feet, his stature imposing, he surveyed the room, his gaze sweeping across the room, a storm brewing beneath the calm.

"Lord Asmodeous, we are working on i—uggghhhhhhhhhhhh!" Amara, her hair a cascade of glistening black silk, approached with nervousness only to be halted mid-sentence.

!!

Asmodeous, without warning, extended his hand with a swiftness that belied his size, his fingers encircling her neck in an iron grip. "Lord No—ahhhhh!" she managed, her scream piercing the heavy silence as terror widened her eyes and the unthinkable happened.

Whoosh!

Without warning, Asmodeous\'s muscles did not merely tighten; they transformed. His flesh rippled and extended, an otherworldly phenomenon, reaching for her face with a hunger that seemed to devour the very air between them.

"!!" Amara was enveloped, consumed by an embrace that was more than physical—it was an absorption into the very essence of Asmodeous.

Silence fell, a heavy cloak that seemed to mourn the loss of Amara. Asmodeous, now standing even taller than his imposing 6\'7\'\' stature, appeared rejuvenated, his skin acquiring an even more flawless texture, if such a thing were possible.

"Tch, these are mere trifles, but they will suffice for now..." His gaze, dismissive yet calculating, swept over the other women in the room.

One by one, he approached them, assimilating each with the same terrifying efficiency with which he had claimed Amara. Their bodies, once writhing in agony, now contributed to his growing power.

Finally, he moved towards the glass wall, his reflection a dark mirage against the backdrop of the mountainous range outside.

The curtain of day seemed to bow before his gaze.

As Amara\'s place was taken by another, the cycle of dread continued.

"Lord, we attempted to fetch the princesses as their time had expired, but we encountered some... obstacles," the new woman reported, her voice trembling with fear.

"Obstacles?" The word fell from Asmodeous\'s lips like a decree, his towering presence now clouded with a frown of displeasure.

The newcomer, upon witnessing the formidable silhouette of Asmodeous, instantly averted her gaze.

Despite his title as the Immortal King, revered for an eternally youthful body, few truly understood the depths of his story or the darkness that clung to his soul.

Asmodeous had mastered an art most sinister, a secret gleaned from the cold-blooded denizens of the dark—shedding his ancient skin to don the fresh, vibrant hide of others.

This ritual was the fountain of his eternally youthful appearance, driving his relentless pursuit of beautiful women as both a means to sustain his beauty and a symbol of his power.

Yet, this horrifying ability to rejuvenate was but the surface of his true might.

His essence thrived on absorption; a capability to assimilate any matter into his being, transforming the very fabric of his physique at will.

His skeleton boasted a density a hundredfold that of ordinary humans, his skin had become an impenetrable fortress, tougher than steel through ceaseless absorption.

His desire for the princesses was driven by a dual purpose: not only to consume their vitality but also to wield them as pawns in a grander scheme of dominance over the kingdoms.

It was a declaration of his supremacy, a challenge to the status quo where other Guardians hesitated, content in their anonymity.

Asmodeous, on the other hand, drowned in his power, crowning himself a deity among mortals.

"The envoys sent after the princess of Sylvergard were found lifeless," the woman reported, her voice a grave melody amidst the silence.

"And you saw fit to delay this news?" Asmodeous\'s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint within them as he pivoted, his towering form casting an ominous shadow over the woman.

!!

Her frame quivered under his gaze, a deer caught in the sights of a predator.

"L-Lord... We..." Her words faltered, trapped in a throat constricted by fear.

"Proceed," commanded Asmodeous, his voice a calm that contrasted the storm of his displeasure.