Chapter 419: A Duel Utterly Devoid of Honor
By the way, what the hell is that dark red aura?
It was the shared thought swirling in the minds of both Raipelth and Ariel.
"But there's no actual touch on my hands or skin or anything, it's just... kinda sticky-looking, y'know? Gives me the creeps a bit."
"Hmph, you heretics wouldn't know, since you've never received the Saintess's prayers."
"Hey! What kinda prayer is that supposed to be?!"
Even looking at it now, Urga's indignant shriek—like she was the one more embarrassed—and Christia's dismissive sniff made it seem like they'd wrapped themselves in that vile energy the same way they'd once cloaked themselves in the Goddess's blessing through the Saintess's prayers.
Raipelth grimaced slightly at her right hand, still twitching spasmodically as if it would take time to fully function again, but she didn't stop observing Urga and the others.
"If my guess is right, that's likely a spell enhancing physical abilities related to attack."
"Mother?"
"Just before, when we struck Christia, the Saintess offered a prayer at that exact moment too."
Ariel recalled Christia's depraved prayer spilling from her lips—symbolizing her own corruption—a far cry from the pious posture of the woman who'd once been thrusting a cock into her own pussy, reveling in sloppy debauchery.
She didn't know why her mother had to dredge up that memory, but sure enough, Christia—and Urga—had looked off back then.
They were cloaked in that jet-black aura now too, but there was a subtle difference.
"When we attacked! It was definitely...!"
"Yes, it had a faint blue tint. And at the same time, Lady Christia's defensive capabilities visibly surged...!"
It had happened just moments ago—impossible to forget.
The initial assault: Christia had been an iron wall.
She'd wobbled and dented under external blows, but always the steadfast shield protecting the Saintess. Yet after the Saintess's prayer wrapped her in that suspicious energy, Christia had become a fortress wall.
A colossal rampart that wouldn't crumble after centuries or millennia, repelling the strike that hit her—even more powerful than the first—with sheer force.
Raipelth knew it best; she'd struck her directly and lost her lance to the counterattack.
That bluish-black hue symbolized defense. And this opposing dark red energy represented attack.
"Come on! Grab hold so I can get home quick?"
"Indeed! For that reward, I'll do anything! So...!"
But knowing that changed nothing.
If anything, Urga—who'd shredded Raipelth's, her own queen's, armor to tatters—was charging at them, cloaked in that dark red aura. And Raipelth's beloved steed, Bucephalus, was pinned by the elf.
"We'll hold out. If we can just endure..."
"Yes, if we can buy some time at least..."
Raipelth and Ariel muttered as much, yanking their horse reins with one hand while gripping their weapons tighter with the other.
"Our queen belongs to me!"
"She's aiming for me again... ngh...!"
Was there nothing easier than seizing wounded prey?
Raipelth had braced herself, knowing it was coming—yet Urga latched onto her flank again, all too easily. They tumbled across the ground, fused as one.
"That bitch can't match my strength, let alone Her Majesty the Queen with one arm out of commission—how could she overpower this body?"
"Not my armor again...?!"
Some lingering regret from before?
Raipelth desperately resisted as Urga tore into her lower armor without mercy, but it was futile—her armor and panties shredded away.
"Whoa! Check out our Queen's bush—it's a whole damn forest! Hot damn..."
"Ngh... Even for a barbarian, how can you inflict such humiliation on a fellow woman?!"
Teased by this savage again.
The queen of this nation, suffering such shame twice in a row from a despicable barbarian who knew no decency!
Raipelth flushed crimson, her face matching her hair, rage and humiliation boiling over—but Urga just cackled, stripping the queen further.
With one arm useless, she was effectively subdued.
"Mother! Get away from Mother—ngh...?!"
"Your opponent is me, Princess! Surrender now, strip, and yield... nyah?!"
Ariel rushed to save her mother, but in that instant, the rigid Christia blocking her—crack!—trembled at the corners of her mouth.
"Christia, if you want that reward from me and Master, no backtalk—grab that sow quick! You wouldn't keep us waiting, would you?!"
"Nyaaaaah!!"
The culprit? The corrupted Saintess, Violet.
"Or are you betraying us again? Again, huh?!"
"N-no, nyah! Nooo... I-I won't betray...!"
"Liar! You betrayed me once already to that sow—spouting that crap right in front of her?!"
Violet lashed Christia's ass mercilessly with her whip, as if nursing some petty grudge forever. Christia froze, taking every strike without moving.
Her words said one thing, but guilt lingered from deceiving Violet for cock. More than that, staying silent let Violet whip her ass raw—on purpose, with the lie.
Ariel ground her teeth, muttering.
"Ngh... I need to help Mother..."
Raipelth was pinned by Urga; her steed by the elf.
Only Ariel could aid her here—she burned to charge right now.
I can't win.
She couldn't break through. Christia wouldn't let her reach Raipelth.
And with Violet tormenting Christia like that, creating openings...
Ariel decided to bide time, waiting for a gap amid Christia's climaxes from the whipping.
But even that wasn't going to plan.
"Wh-what... why is it getting... stronger...?!"
Christia was the one taking the hits—yet in her slutty armor exposing tits and pussy, spraying semen and juices nonstop, howling—why was her momentum surging instead of fading?
Why wouldn't those quivering legs collapse?
Her face screamed ecstasy that could shatter minds!
Then Ariel spotted it.
Christia's ass—should've burst long ago from the lashes—instead regained vigor with every strike.
"No way?! She's healing!! That whipping isn't just a show of intimidation—it's for recovery,"
"Heh heh... too late to figure it out! Go on, Christia! You crave Master's cock that bad—you know what to do for your reward cock, right!?"
"Groooowl!!"
Ariel thrust her lance up desperately at the sight of Christia—no longer a fortress, but a calamity-bringing mega-sow.
One strike—if I deflect it somehow, save Mother, buy time together—then—
Glug-glug-glug—
For some reason, Ariel shuddered at the sound of something pouring into someone's gut.
The corrupted holy knight charged to seize her—focus now, nothing else.
One mistake, and she—and Mother—would face unimaginable fates. She had to—
"Nyuhhh...! Thank you, Master...♥"
"!"
But against her resolve, Ariel's head turned, mesmerized, toward her old friend's voice.
"Heh heh, slurp, how was Eleonora's pussy urinal, schluuuurp? If anything was off, I'll take it to heart and strive to be an even lewder pussy urinal—just say the word...♥"
"Perfect every time. What's to improve?"
"Ah, aaaah... such overflowing praise again...?!"
And she saw it.
Her friend rising from atop the black-haired man, yellow piss streaming down her thighs from her breeding hole—not her waste organ.
The platinum-blonde sow lapping the cock clean of semen, piss, and residual urine from the urethra, acting all coquettish.
"Th-that... pissing in her pussy...?!"
In her pussy—a woman's womb...?!
"Ariel! Danger!"
"Christia? You can catch a sow flashing a gap like that, right?"
"Ah?!"
Thud—!
Snapping back at Urga's shout over her pinned mother, Ariel tumbled from her horse into the jet-black shield—captured like her mother by Christia.
"Schluuuurp, haa... every last drop, thank you... delicious...♥"
Gulp!
Meanwhile, Eleonora—throat bobbing visibly—flashed a knowing smile at her fully subdued former lieges, shaking her plump ass.