Offering to the Womb Goddess

Before the repulsive ancient goddess's temple unleashed its petrification magic, gathering mana and chanting the spell had been a good move. But there was one thing that exceeded my expectations: the activation speed of the magic Gloria had taught me was unexpectedly slow.

The spell I used was one of the sacred kingdom's ultimate techniques. Explosion of Saint Artine. A magic with a complex history. Its functions were varied, but they could be summed up in three points. First, it required innate talent—bloodline support, in other words. Normally, I shouldn't have been able to use it, but perhaps thanks to this perfect body, learning and casting it posed no issue, and indeed it didn't. Second, the incantation was simple, and it didn't consume much mana. Meaning, there were hardly any situations where you couldn't cast it. Third, this magic was a suicide bomb. Not one that sacrificed your body outright, but its overwhelming power was such that even the caster got caught in the blast. It exploited a special mana fusion phenomenon that reacted only to the royal bloodline. In short, it was like a mini nuclear bomb unleashed through magic.

"My...........♥ My....... body♥ This.......♥"

A rustle. One beat too late, my body petrified. Now I couldn't speak a word. I couldn't even move my eyes. In my fading vision, drained of color, I saw the demon of the magic tower flinch. The pure void-light magic floating before me rippled, taking on an ominous glow as clumps of mana energy began merging with each other.

Fusion. Detonation.

—Ah. No♥ Not yet♥ Finally♥ Petrified her♥ But now my body shatters like this— I had hoped, petrified with only my genitals exposed, to climax endlessly under all sorts of vulgar modifications and tortures. Enlarging my clitoris to finger-size for pinpoint torment, or something like that— That's what I'd been anticipating—

Along with that soundless scream of mine, the light before me flashed blindingly. Then, through the petrified skin, I felt an immense ultra-high heat, and my body melted away. At the same time, a tremendous gust struck me, shattering me to pieces, and my consciousness snapped off there.

BOOM!RUMBLE!!

"Kyaa?!"

Pink hair. Deeper pink eyes. Long strands whipped by the wind into a wild tangle. A woman gripped her staff tightly as she gazed at the distant magic tower of the succubus witch.

Yuria An셀로s, the 14th Saintess of the Holy Kingdom. Her voluptuous figure overflowed with femininity even beneath her sacred saintess robes. She paused applying her lipstick and assessed the situation.

Tasked with monitoring the magic tower and ensuring no monsters escaped, she watched from the Holy Knights' outpost as the tower crumbled. The massive noise just now seemed to be the tower's ceiling collapsing into the ground.

"If the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic tower's collapsing—"

Its master must have been killed by something. Surely one of the people Princess Gloria hired. According to the message from the princess, some nameless hero would conquer the tower.

BOOM.RUMBLE!

The magic tower's sturdy outer walls crumbled like decrepit ruins, spewing stone dust in an instant. It wasn't collapsing from an explosion or impact. The tower's master and its core foundation had been destroyed. That's why this artificial structure—more akin to a living being than a mere building—was starting to fall apart.

A living-being-like magic tower could sense danger, burrow completely underground, or tunnel away like a mole. Rumors even said it could teleport via higher-dimensional movement. But in any case, its sole weakness—the core and its master—had died.

Considerable commotion erupted within the Holy Knights' outpost. It was the first time the magic tower had ever collapsed, after all.

A female holy knight rushed to the princess's side—no, the saintess's—and reported.

"Saintess!"

"I see it."

The saintess cut off the knight's report curtly and stared at the crumbling tower.

—If the magic tower is conquered, clear the debris with the knight order, recover all spoils, and retrieve the 'hero' inside.

Recalling Gloria's command, Yuria smirked. Had that princess even foreseen this? Feeling oddly wistful, Yuria muttered in a slightly flushed voice.

"—Ahh. Those wicked hell-beasts should have been purified by my own hands."

"...Saintess?"

"Send a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠messenger. Our knights and nuns alone won't suffice to clear that rubble."

Plus, it was a hassle. So just conscript the idle regular soldiers. Clean the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tower, recover the hero. Yuria sighed, stretching her long legs and arms in a big yawn.

—I'm conscious. I can move my limbs.

The moment that thought hit, I bolted upright. Then I stared at my hands and legs. Slender, snow-white woman's fingers of exquisite beauty. Legs so stunningly perfect—long calves and firm thighs—that they felt unreal. Toned abs with just the right muscle, glossy black hair cascading to my back. Every part of my body was intact.

"Where... am I...?"

My voice was normal too. Not the rasped one from endless tortures. A beautiful, elegant voice.

I sprang up and scanned my surroundings. Had I fallen deep into the magic tower's basement amid the shattering, then regenerated? "......No."

Doesn't seem like it. I couldn't imagine things turning out that conveniently. Besides, this place didn't feel like the magic tower's basement—

"Too quiet."

Eerily quiet. And the space felt excessively vast. Vast to the point—

——it had no end.

But this thick, stuffy dampness unmistakably resembled the underground tower, yet it was something else. What the hell happened? I was in the magic tower's basement, and the explosion—

"......Ugh!?"

——zzzt.

My vision shook. As if the world itself twisted in an impossible anomaly, I squinted at the thing that appeared silently ahead.

".......A statue?"

A colossal statue loomed before me. It depicted an extraordinarily beautiful woman, her goddess-like hands clasped as she gazed down at me.

"......"

Some kind of goddess statue? It was so enormous I had to crane my neck nearly perpendicular to see its face. Hundreds of meters tall, maybe more. Surrounding the giant goddess statue like attendants paying homage were similar but smaller, slightly less impressive statues—countless nude female figures.

"......."

Terrifying. Though the surrounding statues and the apparent goddess all wore peaceful smiles, an inexplicable dread gripped me.

The ground I stood on was slick with moisture, pulsing like living flesh. I was standing on an endless expanse of fleshy walls. I looked down at the flesh-wall. Unlike the tower's, it felt like...

—A womb ——

——as if I stood inside one. A bizarre space where a woman's womb pulsed endlessly. And before me stood a nude goddess statue. Though her face was stunningly beautiful, it stirred no arousal in me. Only horrific fear. A chill raced up my spine, a terror that denied my very existence.

"..............Haa♥"

But that horrific terror—this alien emotion I'd never felt before—was precisely what I craved. I walked toward the massive goddess statue.

How much time passed? I discovered a huge altar at its base. The altar brimmed with a pool... no, a blood pool. Filled with bloody water. Water—no, blood—trickled from spots on the walls, rising to my calves.

".........What’s that smell."

As I reached the blood pool, a ghastly stench made me grimace. Not just metallic blood. Womb. Placenta. Egg. Ovary. Conception. Amniotic fluid. The raw essence of life, tangled, mixed, fermented. A smell unlike any I'd known—I couldn't hold back the vomit.

"Guh, bleeech!"

An altar in a blood pool brimming with life from the womb. After heaving fully into it, I stared at my reflection. Elegant hime-cut bangs. Provocative brows. High nose bridge. Sculpted features. The epitome of beauty, yet somehow off.

"..........Guh, guh. Ha. Hack. Uurp, urgh!"

The nausea hadn't ended. Over this sea of horrific life, I retched on. Nothing in my stomach? Only pure white gastric juices. In the end, I breathed through my mouth. Yet the unbearable stench made me stagger forward.

Reaching the altar's edge, I saw what looked like an offering stand. A massive golden bowl stood there, adorned with Renaissance-style engravings. The wall-like surfaces were meticulously carved too—

".......Wait. That's... a face...?"

I narrowed my eyes at the wall. The patterns I'd found beautiful resembled women's faces. Dozens, hundreds, hundreds, thousands of screaming women's faces intertwined.

"..........."

Are they alive? I couldn't be sure, but I half-believed they were. Women in life, now remnants of this horrific architecture.

I still didn't grasp what this place was, but one thing was clear: land overseen by that goddess. In RPGs, don't chosen heroes get summoned to heavens or divine realms? This was that place.

"Then..."

I bowed my head to the offering plate before me. An offering stand. A place to sacrifice something. Where gods receive tributes. Usually goats, humans, gold—but I couldn't procure those, and this goddess wouldn't accept them. Instead, what I must offer is— my experiences, knowledge, everything sullied by my journey. In other words, my soul.

In this dreadfully terrifying atmosphere, I spoke in a trembling voice. Scary. So scary. This incomprehensible space terrified me more than anything. The world's structure so twisted, such a place existing—that was the utmost horror.

But.

"Great Mother and Goddess, I offer...........♥ a portion of my sullied soul..............♥"

That terror was what I desired. This overflowing thrill, the ecstasy of life's end—that's what I craved. Drinking deep of this place's madness and blasphemy, I prayed in my quivering voice.

"Womb that conceives life, sacred vulva that births life and death."

Words flowed fluently, as if rehearsed a thousand times, though first uttered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in life. Information forcibly flooded my brain. Cursed oath-language ravaged my body. A fragment of my soul vanished, replaced by fallen, impure essence.

"I offer.... a portion of my fallen.....♥ soul....♥"

Yet these were all me. My sense of self as an entity remained intact. I would preserve that entity while falling into depravity and ruin.

Slowly, I knelt. Then clasped my hands above my head, bowing my forehead to the ground.

"Grant me permission to offer this heart heavy with sin, this flesh-pot blazing with lust. Make me a lowly tool to clean your sacred temple, an existence to be filled, emptied, impregnated, and expelled."

Head bowed, hands clenched, I offered a fragment of my sullied soul. It felt like carving out my soul with a knife. Like a body part torn away.

"Ah♥ Ahaha...♥"

Ecstatic smile on my face, I lifted my body and gazed up at the goddess statue. Her face, once at the sky's edge, loomed incredibly close. The statue had bowed its head to look down at me.

—zzzt. Zzzt.

Vision warped, the world distorted. Noise speckled with lights brushed my sight, and the beautiful goddess wept blood tears.

Drip. Drip.

Catching the flowing blood tears, I felt my body changing. Transforming fundamentally into something akin to life for birth and conception. Becoming grotesque. No longer human.

━Not yet.

━The time.

━Hasn't come.

And I awoke from that long slumber, returning to reality.