Chapter 20: Treatment

The Demon King gazed at Irena’s upright, disciplined figure, seeing nothing but absolute obedience and calm rationality, and could not help but sigh softly.

“Ah, honestly… Irena, everything about you is fine.”

“Loyal, strong, reliable… but far too rigid.”

“You lack a bit of interest, a little… of the reaction you should have.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, her fingertips brushing her temple, as if thinking—or perhaps regretting.

The dragon woman before her was her most capable general.

When the borders were unstable, she charged at the front.

When decrees were issued, she carried them out without question.

Demonic affairs were handled with perfect order in her hands.

And yet—

She did not understand how to play.

Unlike Vera, who knew how to cling and act cute.

Unlike Lilith, who knew restraint.

And unlike Melorin, who… bloomed with captivating shame and pain amid her struggle.

“Very well,” the Demon King murmured inwardly.

“In daily life, what matters most is handling the affairs of the demon race.

If she can fulfill her duties, that is enough.”

She lifted her gaze to Irena, her voice gentle, tinged with rare helplessness.

“Irena, do you have anything else you need to attend to?”

Hearing this, the dragon woman immediately bent one knee slightly, her right hand over her chest, her voice deeply respectful.

“Lady Morgana, there are no other urgent matters.

If anything must be mentioned… the border patrol will rotate in three days, and I must prepare deployments in advance.”

At the mention of “border patrol,” the Demon King instantly felt bored.

She raised a hand and lightly rubbed her forehead, her tone carrying indulgence.

“Alright, alright… leave things like that to your subordinates.”

“Go find something you’re personally interested in.”

She paused, her gaze settling on Irena’s still-serious face, a meaningful smile forming.

“If you find things dull… you can also come to my room.”

Her voice lowered slightly, carrying a hint of temptation.

“I can let you… experience something pleasant.”

At the word pleasant, a trace of confusion flickered through Irena’s eyes, before calm returned.

She did not blush like Vera, nor react with shame like Melorin.

Instead, she spoke as if analyzing a tactical problem, completely serious.

“No need, Lady Morgana.”

Her tone was steady, without a ripple.

“Due to racial differences, our perception of and need for pleasure are not the same.

I prefer to gain fulfillment through combat, training, and completing tasks.”

Listening to this rational analysis, the Demon King’s lips twitched slightly, as if choked by something unseen.

She fell silent for two seconds, then suddenly raised her hand—thump—and lightly knocked Irena on the head.

“Irena.”

Her tone was helpless, like scolding an uncomprehending child.

“Sigh… forget it.”

She shook her head, smiling with a hint of indulgent resignation.

“Go do your own things.”

Irena immediately straightened, her voice unchanged in respect.

“Yes, Lady Morgana.”

She asked nothing more, hesitated not at all, and turned to leave.

Her steps were steady, her back straight as a blade, as if the earlier conversation about “pleasure” had been nothing more than casual chatter in a routine report.

Watching her retreating figure, the Demon King sighed.

“Truly… a block of wood that won’t awaken.”

Just then—

“Morgana-sis—!”

Vera suddenly rushed over, clinging tightly to the Demon King’s arm, nearly hanging off her, her voice trembling with excitement.

“Now… can you take me and Melorin to the bedroom for treatment?”

She deliberately emphasized the word treatment, her tone brimming with barely contained anticipation, as if what awaited them was not the Demon King’s bedroom, but a sanctuary of bliss.

The Demon King looked down at her and couldn’t help laughing.

She reached out and ruffled the vampire’s hair, her fingertips still bearing traces from the earlier ritual.

She then turned to look at Melorin in her arms—

The girl’s hair was disheveled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes holding fear, defiance, and a forced calm.

“Of course.”

Her voice was soft, yet carried an irresistible gentleness.

She lowered her head and whispered by Melorin’s ear, sounding like a proclamation—or perhaps a blessing.

“Vera, this is Melorin’s first time with this… be sure to take good care of her.”

Hearing this, Vera immediately puffed out her chest and nodded solemnly.

“Got it, Morgana-sis!

I’ll make sure Lady Melorin… receives the most perfect treatment!”

Listening to this exchange, Melorin felt fury surge within her, her nails digging deep into her palms.

“Damn Demon King… damn Morgana…”

“What do you take me for?

A toy to be played with at will? A patient you can treat however you like?”

“Vengeance can wait ten years… what you do to me today, I’ll return tenfold someday!”

The Demon King slowly walked into the bedroom.

The door closed soundlessly behind her, cutting off all outside noise.

She gently laid the weakened Melorin onto the bed, the girl’s body so soft she could muster no strength at all.

“Melorin-chan, lie still,” the Demon King said softly, her fingertip brushing Melorin’s forehead, her gaze tender.

At that moment—

“Wow—!”

Vera was like a small beast that had finally entered a candy house, her eyes gleaming with fervor.

“Morgana-sis’s bedroom!”

Her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement.

“No matter how many times I come, it’s always thrilling!”

Before the words finished—she moved without hesitation.

“Rip—”

She tore open her collar, then her skirt ties, her stockings… garments scattering to the floor one by one.

In moments, she stood naked by the bed, her legs pressed together slightly, as if enduring heat rising from within.

Seeing this, Melorin’s heart jolted.

“She… just stripped like that?”

Shock and disbelief flashed through her eyes.

“Has she been completely brainwashed?

Even her own kind isn’t spared… damn Demon King!

You didn’t just remake Servia—you can even toy with a girl like Vera!”

She bit her lower lip, fury surging, yet utterly powerless to resist.

At that moment, the Demon King approached the bedside, leaned down, and gently lifted Melorin’s chin with her fingertip, forcing her to meet those night-deep eyes.

“Melorin-chan,” she said softly, a teasing smile in her voice.

“You keep looking at me like that… are you really that eager for my treatment?”

Melorin’s heart skipped.

She knew her gaze had betrayed her—not desire, but vigilance and defense.

But she could not confront her directly.

She immediately adopted a shy, “exposed” expression, cheeks reddening, eyes evasive, her voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz.

“I… I was trying to hide it… but I didn’t expect… Morgana, you’d still see through me…”

She acted like a girl finally admitting a secret crush.

Seeing her obedient display, the Demon King’s smile deepened.

She lightly tapped Melorin’s lips with her fingertip.

“Good girl.”

Straightening, she scanned the room, her tone shifting into gentle command.

“Melorin-chan, since you want treatment first… I’ll have my little assistant examine you.”

“Little assistant?”

Melorin froze, confusion flashing in her eyes as she turned to the Demon King.

“What little assistant?”

The Demon King did not answer.

She slowly raised her hand and beckoned toward Vera, who stood nearby trembling with excitement.

“Vera,” she said softly.

“Would you like to be my little assistant?”

“Of course, Morgana-sis!”

Vera nearly dropped to her knees beside the bed, hands clenched, eyes blazing with fervor, her voice shaking with excitement.

“That’s amazing! Morgana-sis wants me to be her assistant!”

“Does that mean… I’ll be rewarded later too? Will I be sent soaring, or drowned in waves of pleasure?”

She was already imagining herself kneeling by the bed, helping treat Melorin, while the Demon King praised her from behind.

“Vera, you’re doing so well.”

Watching this, Melorin cursed inwardly.

“Damn Demon King! This is obviously on a whim—you never planned any ‘assistant’ at all!”

“You just want to break me completely!”

She clenched her teeth, muscles tensing, resistance flickering in her eyes.

The Demon King noticed immediately.

“Melorin,” Morgana said gently, her voice like a blade against the nerves.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so tense?”

She chuckled softly, half pity, half mockery.

“It seems your condition is quite severe—you don’t even know how to relax.”

Turning to the eager Vera, her lips curved into a meaningful smile.

“Vera.”

“Help Melorin-chan…”

She paused, laughter filling her voice.

“Ease it a little.”