The Beast's Fall and Corruption at 1% (Absolute Leash)

"Wait."

"This expensive 'medicine' isn't something I can just sprinkle around when your attitude is still so arrogant."

Kyle's chilling voice sliced through the frozen air of the abandoned magic stone mine. It was a declaration of war from the lowliest slave, aimed at one of the continent's supreme powers—the Northern Duchess.

"Ah… aah…"

Ayla, hurled to the ground by her hair, sat collapsed and stared up at Kyle with dazed eyes. Her mind was already a tangled mess of horrific contradiction and chaos.

What… what did I just do…?

A single drop. The moment the crimson bead of blood from Kyle's neck splashed across her lips and slid down her throat, the massive dam of reason that had held her mind together collapsed without a trace. The hellish phantom pain that had been burning through her veins from Mana Depletion Syndrome vanished as if it had never existed.

But what took its place was a primal, violent heat unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life.

Hot… it's so hot…!

"Kuh, haaaah…!"

Ayla clutched her lower abdomen fiercely, gasping for breath. Inside her uniform pants, her untouched, virgin folds had grown madly feverish and throbbed with need. It felt as if thousands of fire ants were burrowing into her inner walls and biting relentlessly. No—this was not mere itching. It was deficiency.

The infinite Essence of the Creator contained in Kyle's blood. The moment her brain and womb caught its scent, they screamed in frenzy, demanding that this male ram his massive cock inside her and flood her cervix with the hottest, thickest seed he could give.

"My throat… my throat is so dry… hngh, it's so hot… I feel like my insides are melting…!"

The final thread of reason snapped with an audible crack.

Northern pride? A knight's dignity? What use is any of that! If I don't drink that man's fluids right now… my cunt, my womb will wither and die!

The last trace of focus finally vanished from Ayla's eyes. The silver-haired Duchess who had once been as cold as frost was gone. All that remained was a starving bitch consumed by raw lust and a desperate hunger for mana.

Thud—!

"Masteeeer—!!"

Ayla kicked off the ground on all fours and lunged at Kyle like a wild animal. The title that left her lips was shockingly natural—and utterly vulgar.

Thump!

She wrapped her arms around his lower body and collapsed on top of him.

"Huk, hah…! Please, please… give me more of that… haaang!"

Kneeling as she clung desperately to his thigh, Ayla rubbed her tear-and-snot-streaked face madly against his crotch. Wet, sticky, squelching sounds filled the air. Every time she shook her hips frantically, the love juices soaking through her thick uniform pants clung obscenely to Kyle's rough slave trousers, producing lewd friction noises.

"Mmmh, hngh! The smell… your scent… that thick, hot male scent… haaaah! Please shove it into my cunt right now, fill me until you burst—!"

There was no trace of the continent's strongest warrior left. She frantically tore at the buttons of her own uniform pants with her hands, desperate to rip away every layer of cloth and grind her burning female hole directly against that man's massive pillar.

"……"

Kyle looked down with cold eyes at the ruler of the North—the woman now clutching his thigh, howling like a beast in heat, and shaking her ass in obscene need. He simply observed the scene of her overwhelming, horrific corruption.

Just one drop of blood and her core has been completely overwritten.

Kyle gazed at her trembling silver hair. Intense heat radiated from beneath her thick uniform. With ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every pant, the sticky-sweet female pheromones she gave off heated the cold air of the mine.

"Hah, hah… Master, please take off your pants… I'll clean everything with my mouth… I'll lick and suck it all… just one drop, please…!"

Ayla looked ready to bite through his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rough trousers with her teeth. Her slender yet sword-trained fingers scratched madly near his zipper. Had Kyle been an ordinary human, her superhuman grip in this frenzy might have torn his limbs apart or forced him down.

But the Essence of the Creator coiled in his dantian made him the heaviest and most unbreakable absolute in this world.

Tap.

Kyle pressed down on the crown of her head with a casual hand.

"Ugh…!"

It was only one hand, yet Ayla's body froze as if crushed beneath an ancient tree rooted deep in the earth.

"Who gave you permission to remove my clothes?"

Kyle's low, icy voice pierced her ear.

"Hiiik…! S-sorry… I was wrong, this bitch forgot her place… hngh, but my cunt itches so badly… I'll die without mana…!"

With her head pinned under his grip, Ayla forgot all shame. She slammed her ass against the floor and wept openly. The terror of death from Mana Depletion Syndrome and the absolute craving for the pleasure Kyle's fluids brought had completely taken over her mind.

"Do you want to live?"

"Y-yes! Please save me… my body can't survive without Master's cum anymore… kuh, haaaaaang!"

The vulgar words that left her own mouth sounded unbelievable even to her. Yet Ayla could not stop. The instinct racing down her spine screamed that to survive, she had to drink the sexual fluids pouring from this man's cock.

Perfect slave eyes.

The corner of Kyle's mouth lifted slightly. He slowly withdrew the hand pressing her head down and stroked her pale cheek, now drenched in sweat and tears. Every time his rough, calloused slave's fingers brushed her soft skin, Ayla shuddered violently like someone electrocuted and let out a lewd moan.

"Haang! Hngh… Master's touch… feels so good… mana is seeping in, just a little… touch me more…!"

Kyle moved the fingers that had been stroking her cheek directly to her lips. Ayla instinctively opened her mouth, trying to lick them with her tongue, chasing the scent of the blood that had given her miraculous pleasure moments ago.

But just before her tongue could reach them, Kyle indifferently pulled his hand back.

"Ah…"

A despairing sigh slipped from between Ayla's lips as she missed her target. Her eyes trembled pitifully, lost and directionless. She looked exactly like a starving mutt waiting for its owner to toss it a treat.

"Instead of begging to be saved, you should start by understanding the situation."

Kyle gestured coldly with his chin toward their surroundings.

"……?"

Only then did Ayla, blinded by pleasure, stop her ragged panting and turn her head. What entered her vision were hundreds of Northern knights sprawled across the mine floor, coughing blood. Her subordinates—caught in her own Ice Rampage, suffering fatal wounds, clutching broken limbs, and staring at her in utter horror.

"Duchess…?"

The cracked voice of her most loyal knight commander broke the silence.

"Ah……"

At that moment, lightning struck Ayla's mind.

I… in front of hundreds of my subordinates…

She had torn at her uniform, shaken her ass, clutched the lowest slave's crotch, and screamed for his cum. The noble title of the North's Iron-Blooded Duchess, the glory of a family that had lasted thousands of years, had been utterly shattered like trash thrown into a sewer right before their eyes.

"N-no… this isn't… this can't be……"

Shame. A horrific shame like being burned alive in hellfire slammed into her entire body. She tried to cover her face with both hands and scream like a beast.

But—

Ziiiiiing—!!

The instant her shame reached its peak and her brain felt ready to explode, Kyle deliberately released a tiny ripple of mana from his dantian. A wave of pleasure tuned exclusively to Ayla's womb, which had already synchronized with his frequency.

"Hii, hiiiiiiik—!!!"

Instead of a scream of despair, what tore from Ayla's mouth was a high-pitched, vulgar howl of ecstasy. Her body arched backward like a bow.

"A-ahh! What is this—my body, it's… haaaaaang! My cunt, it's burning up inside and it feels so good!"

Right in the middle of hundreds of watching subordinates. The worst humiliation—her dignity being thoroughly trampled—combined with Kyle's mana wave and began secreting brain chemicals that multiplied the pleasure exponentially.

The pinnacle of cognitive dissonance. Her mind wanted to kill the version of herself that was in heat before her own men, yet her body was already treating that very betrayal and shame as the finest aphrodisiac and riding wave after wave of orgasm.

Shudder, shudder, shudder!

Ayla's legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. She could no longer care about her subordinates' gazes. Overwhelmed by the pleasure exploding from her lower abdomen, she clawed at the ground with both hands and panted like a beast.

"Haa, haa, haa…!"

Silver hair drenched in saliva and sweat. A body flushed crimson. And the puddle of thick love juices that had soaked through her uniform pants until it formed a pool on the floor. The ruler of the North had completely fallen into a perfect, beastly bitch, collapsed and panting at Kyle's feet.

Thud.

Finally, unable to endure the overload of pleasure and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana, Ayla's brain pulled its own fuse. Her unfocused eyes stared into empty space as foam-mixed drool spilled from her lips. Then she collapsed onto Kyle's military boots and fainted.

Swoosh.

Kyle looked down with indifferent eyes at Ayla, who had fainted with her cheek resting on his foot. Even unconscious, her lower abdomen twitched rhythmically, craving his mana. Like a greedy hole waiting for a man's cock.

With this, I've successfully put the first prey's nose in the leash.

From a pathetic mine slave to the one and only ruler holding the collar of the continent's strongest. Kyle savored the infinite mana still pouring like a waterfall from his dantian and gave a cold smile.

Kyle's gaze lingered for a long time on the words Corruption Level: 1%.

She had torn her uniform in front of her subordinates, clutched a slave's crotch, begged for cum, and spilled her juices on the floor like a bitch in heat. After showing all that horrific humiliation and disgrace, her Corruption Level was still only one percent.

That meant there was a full 99 percent of "room" left to tame and trample that arrogant Duchess.

"Heh…"

A low, icy laugh leaked from between Kyle's lips. It was the smile of a predator who had overturned the laws of a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perishing world, rising from the very bottom to crush the peak beneath his feet.

How shall I fill the remaining 99 percent, Ayla?

Should he drag her straight to her bedroom, bind her limbs with ice magic, and pour semen into her womb until it tore apart all night long? Or should he make her walk on all fours in the training grounds while hundreds of subordinates watched and publicly feed her his cum?

The choice belonged only to the one who held the cum—Kyle.

"What have you done to the Duchess, you filthy slave bastard!"

The knight commander, who had barely regained his footing behind them, spat blood and drew his sword. Though heavily wounded, the killing intent in his aura was fierce enough to burst the heart of any ordinary slave on the spot.

But Kyle did not even turn around. He roughly grabbed the unconscious Ayla by her silver hair and lifted her as he gave the knight commander a cold command.

"Sheathe that sword and immediately prepare the North's finest carriage and escort."

"What…?! Have you lost your mind?!"

"After watching with your own eyes as your lord became a woman who will wither and die tomorrow without my cum, you still bark?"

"Kuuugh…!"

The knight commander's face turned deathly pale at Kyle's merciless barrage of facts. The insane display Ayla had shown moments ago was clearly a terminal symptom of Mana Depletion Syndrome, and the only thing that had calmed her was that slave's drop of blood.

Kyle tapped the cheek of the foaming, unconscious Ayla and delivered an absolute declaration to the knight commander.

"This bitch's life is now in my hands. If you want her to live, escort me to the softest bed in the Northern Duchess's Castle."

A rebellion that began in the pit of destruction. The grand overture of a reversal epic in which every arrogant supreme woman in the world would kneel at his feet and receive an eternal leash around their wombs. That horrific yet sweet hell had just turned its first page.

[End of Part 1, Chapter 5]