Defeated Succubus (13)
Ishtar was born in the fertile Iason Plains, embroidered between the Utis River and the Tempra River on the Western Continent. Back then, civilization was far more backward than it is now—there was only one proper nation, the Empire, while the rest of the lands were dotted with mere tribal villages of humans. Ishtar's hometown was a rural village where people barely scraped by farming just enough to put food on the table.
Life for humans in those days was utterly simple. They farmed, they hunted, and when demons invaded, they fled or died. They prayed at churches for the Demon King to be slain, paid taxes to the Empire, and waited for a hero to save the world. That was it—all there was.
Ishtar grew up smoothly as an ordinary village maiden, helping with the farmwork. She wasn't born into nobility, nor did she possess innate combat prowess to join a hero's expedition party. The reason her utterly commonplace virgin fate twisted, allowing her to survive all the way to the present, 50,000 years later, was her beauty so stunning it became the talk of the village and even reached the Empire.
Her face exuded pure elegance in a word. How could her skin stay porcelain-white after toiling in the fields all day? How could her breasts be so ample without rich nourishment, her hips so perfectly curved? People whispered that she must be blessed by the gods.
Village youths didn't even dream of proposing. Sure, you had to be pretty handsome to try, but when beauty went too far, even the approach felt like a sin. It wasn't about fearing she'd be hurt by his affections—Ishtar simply didn't look like the kind of woman who'd end up as some incompetent villager's wife.
And sure enough, the Empire's count's second son, come to collect taxes, fell head over heels for her at first sight. Ishtar had just turned fifteen. Marriage at that age was commonplace then, so he proposed.
"A rustic village like this doesn't suit you."
Ishtar boarded the carriage and departed for the count's domain. The village men supposedly fell into depression, unable to forget her—but compared to what was to come, that was nothing.
The count took one look at the bride his son brought home and coveted her for himself. For the first time in his life, the second son rebelled against his father. Word of the father-son feud over a woman spread, drawing nobles, royals, and wealthy commoners from across the nation to gawk at just how beautiful she must be. Crowds flooded in.
By the time Ishtar came to her senses, powerful men were clashing with their private armies over her, inflicting massive casualties on the citizenry. In the end, the emperor himself intervened.
"No one shall lay a hand on Ishtar's body. She shall remain pure until death."
It was like a bolt from the blue. She'd left her village expecting to become someone's wife, only to be barred from marriage forever. Ishtar despaired at her cruel fate, but it wasn't over yet.
"One woman named Ishtar has bewitched nobles and merchants into waging war—this must be the devil's doing. Among the Demon King's direct slaughter squad, the 72 Demons, there is Satan, who wields seductive demons to dominate men's hearts. I propose subjecting Ishtar to a heresy trial and burning her at the stake."
The high priest suggested executing her. Demon invasions kept human lifespans brutally short back then, fueling a desperate longing for the afterlife and granting religious figures immense authority. Even the emperor couldn't casually dismiss the priest's words.
Ishtar was helplessly tied to a wooden stake, destined for an unjust pyre.
"Oh, ooh! Ah, so beautiful! Such a radiant woman can't be a demon! She must be a creation of the gods!"
But fortunately, when the priest actually saw Ishtar at the religious tribunal, he gasped in awe and changed his tune. By national law, heresy trial defendants couldn't wear so much as a thread—exposing Ishtar's body, sculpted as if by divine hands, which captivated the priest.
"She must become the new goddess!!"
By some twist of fate, the previous goddess had perished in an accident, leaving the seat vacant. Enraptured by her beauty, the priest and imperial mages drew a magic circle and placed Ishtar at its center. By the emperor's decree, people across all Empire territories knelt and prayed in unison.
In essence, she absorbed the collective resentment of all humanity and the mana of the era's greatest mages. Ishtar—who'd spent her life helping on the farm, knitting at home, dreaming only of marrying a fine man someday and becoming a happy mother—became the goddess fated to preserve her purity eternally and battle the Demon King's army.
"It's the goddess! All of you, kneel!"
At the priest's command, dukes and higher nobles, court archmages— even the emperor himself—bowed their heads. The vintage dress, handed down from her mother and mended countless times over decades, vanished with the magic circle, replaced by sacred white fabric veiling her sensitive areas.
The fluttering cloth fragments blocked exposure with ghostly precision—just a bit of effort might peek through, but never quite. Breasts, groin, armpits: all thoroughly guarded. A goddess must always remain pure. Even her eyes were shrouded in holy cloth, a lesson against being swayed by visible forms.
In this Goddess Ritual, top mages collapsed one after another, their mana depleted—but their lifelong efforts were sealed into the Goddess's Staff, to serve humanity henceforth.
Ishtar, already radiating dignified beauty, transformed into a truly divine figure upon ascension. Her mere appearance subdued human hearts.
"Raise your heads, children of man. Henceforth, I, Ishtar, shall watch over you as the new goddess of the Western Continent. Even after all present here draw their final breaths, I swear to remain and fell the Demon King."
50,000 years passed since then.
Innumerable events unfolded, beyond words. Countless lives were lost. Most people she knew had long passed. They'd come close to slaying the Demon King many times, only to fail each one. Especially Hayato—he was so close. She'd truly believed he was the hero they'd desperately awaited.
Thinking of Hayato still ached her heart. But for every loss, there was gain. Though Hayato died, the Demon King's downfall brewed from an unexpected quarter. Astonishingly, an Earthling named Kim Hoyoung overwhelmed her, toying with her like a child.
At this rate, he could kill the Demon King anytime. But... while Kim Hoyoung was undoubtedly powerful, whether he was truly good remained unclear. Ishtar was convinced her mission here was to guide him onto the righteous path—her final duty as goddess.
If she succeeded... she could finally slay the Demon King, save the Western Continent, fulfill humanity's long-cherished wish. The goddess would no longer be needed, and Ishtar herself might... No, that wasn't important now. First, complete the final mission.
"Kim Hoyoung! Did you have sex with the Demon King again?!"
"What, Ishtar? Nagging again?"
"Don't call it nagging! It's all for your own good!"
It was the classic nagging pattern. Ishtar thumped the ground with her Goddess's Staff, lecturing like a stern master.
"You mustn't underestimate the Demon King! She commands millions of subordinates—stronger than all Earth's armies combined! Surely you want to protect this beloved planet of yours?"
"Hm? Not really..."
"........."
Ishtar puffed her cheeks like a sulky child and glared. An excuse slipped out unbidden. It felt like being scolded by the class president as the neighborhood thug.
"N-No, I don't want Earth to perish or anything."
"Then listen to me! You're the only man who can kill the Demon King—a hero in all but name! Though I haven't officially appointed you as goddess yet."
"Sigh... then do it officially."
"Th-That's...! On hold!"
"Why? You said I'm the only one who can kill her."
"...It's only been days since Hayato died; appointing a new hero feels wrong (whisper)."
"What was that?"
"N-Nothing! Anyway, you're using your power only for personal pleasure! That's not right!"
A goddess must suppress private emotions to the utmost, devoting herself solely to humanity and the continent. Ishtar's refusal to appoint the obvious candidate due to lingering grief for Hayato was dereliction of duty—but no one here could reproach her.
"Hayato was exemplary in that regard! He missed his family but recognized the Western Continent's plight under Demon King oppression and fulfilled his duty with utter self-sacrifice!"
"Then tell that Hayato guy to kill the Demon King. Stop bothering me."
"...I can't. He's already dead."
"What? A hero, and he's dead? Ah~ Did Bianca kill him? Want me to avenge you?"
The one who killed Hayato... was me, Goddess Ishtar. Forced by Bianca's orders, but the sensation of severing his neck lingered vividly.
"Tell me who killed Hayato. I'll avenge him."
"...More importantly, focus on weakening and fully erasing the Demon King first."
"Phew~ Erase? I wasn't planning to."
"What did you say?"
The Demon King's death was non-negotiable—the purpose sustaining Ishtar's tenacious life for 50,000 years. Yet Kim Hoyoung dismissed it with a sigh. His reason was absurd, at least to her ears.
"Bianca seems useful as a slave. Thinking of keeping her alive and exploiting her like Fujiwara no Himeko. Oh, Himeko is—"
"Don't make me laugh!!!"
Pent-up rage exploded. Slave? Exploit? Shirking a powerful man's responsibility for that?!
"Do you know how much I've endured for the moment I slay the Demon King?! Without her death, the Western Continent will tremble eternally in fear of demon slaughter! You're so strong... why not embrace even a fraction of Hayato's justice?! It might cleanse that shit-filled head of yours!!"
"What...? Hey, harsh words."
"The harsh thing is your perverted lust!!! Raping Demon King or succubus alike... even beasts in heat wouldn't act like that!!"
"Sex between man and woman is natural law. Why fuss? You've probably done it too."
"I'm a virgin goddess who's guarded her purity for over 50,000 years...! Don't lump me with scum like you."
"Ah... really? I see."
Kim Hoyoung slapped his palm, delighted as if he'd found the solution.
"That's why you're always yapping. If I teach you sex's joys, you won't nag anymore, right?"
"What?!"
Ishtar gripped her Goddess's Staff tightly. Forged by ancient mages pouring out their life's mana at the cost of their lifespans, it brimmed with forbidden, sealed, forgotten spells unimaginable to ordinary mages or demons—even the Demon King coveted it. But only the goddess could wield it.
"Shall I guess your scheme? You're a user of grand mind-confusing magic. Planning to hypnotize me into a so-called mating-loving pervert. But heed this warning."
Ishtar leveled the staff at Kim Hoyoung, eyes brimming with more wariness than toward the Demon King.
"Mental magic doesn't work on goddesses! Curses like the so-called Slave Tattoo might force actions, but the sacred magic guarding my heart is inviolable by any! Repent now and focus solely on toppling the Demon King! If you try brainwashing me even slightly... I'll tell you in advance."
The orb atop the staff whirled with an eerie hum.
"Your magic will reflect back and devour your own mind. I won't be harmed. If you doubt me, try it. Thanks to you, the Demon King is weakened. If you're like her or any other monster, I'll drive you mad here, find a true hero, and slay the enfeebled Bianca. Well? What's your choice, Kim Hoyoung!"
Not a word of Ishtar's was false. A goddess's mind belonged to the celestial realm—no lower being could interfere. Even Bianca couldn't taint it. The staff now veiled an invisible barrier reflecting all magic.
Ishtar warned once more.
"I am the noble Goddess Ishtar. You can't touch a finger to my body, and I shall never feel filthy lust eternally—until my role ends and I ascend to the heavens! Mortals who lust after a goddess's body always meet tragic ends. For you, it's justice or death—only one path remains!"
"Jeez, so noisy. Fine, I've decided. From now on, you're a brood sow. You act so superior, so tack on 'buhi' at the start and 'pyong' at the end of sentences to get vulgar."
"...So that's your choice. Very well, Kim Hoyoung... you'll become the brood sow. You'll hate opening your mouth thanks to that bizarre speech you've chosen, but self-inflicted. Now, despair."
The voice from Kim Hoyoung's mouth lashed the air as a wave, charging forth—only to collide with the staff's barrier and rebound straight back at him.