The Succubus's Attack

The Frankish Kingdom, a foremost power among the continental nations, borders numerous countries, fostering thriving border trade but also placing its diplomacy on a constant balancing act. Consequently, the Frankish royal family is often more burdened than that of other nations, and Luenhardt, as Crown Prince, is no exception.
To outsiders, the royal palace in the heart of the capital, Mainz, is undeniably luxurious, but few know that within its splendor lie several rather austere spaces. For instance, within the luxurious living quarters of the royal family lies Luenhardt's unassuming office. Those who haven't visited would likely imagine a glittering, opulent space, but in reality, it contains almost no luxury items. The walls are entirely covered by bookshelves overflowing with books and scrolls, lacking even windows for ventilation—a truly enclosed space. Is
the kingdom in dire financial straits? Is it His Highness's peculiar preference? Or does he find simplicity more conducive to focused work? Various rumors circulated among the servants. But regardless, on this day, Runehard was, as always, engrossed in his work.
The only thing in the room that could be considered luxurious was the gold-trimmed wooden chair, which had only been brought in at the insistence of his retainers. Runehard slumped in the chair, stretched lazily, and wearily gazed at the small mountain of documents piled before him. Today, he had to deal with these while simultaneously organizing the notes from the previous court meeting.
"…………………………"
The annoying scenes from the meeting lingered in his mind. Of the many topics, his greatest concern was naturally the disposal of the kingdom's secret treasure, the 'Philosopher's Stone,' but on this point, the meeting's conclusion was contrary to his expectations, causing him considerable distress.
The Philosopher's Stone.
Legend has it that a great ancient alchemist dedicated his entire life to creating this object, which contained boundless magic. If properly channeled, its power could be nothing short of miraculous… turning lead into gold, granting immortality, slaying dragons, and acquiring wisdom comparable to the gods…
Unfortunately, the methods and knowledge for channeling the Philosopher's Stone's power have long been lost. Currently, it's merely a useless stone, its existence providing other nations with ammunition to attack the kingdom. Even so, it's impossible to hand over such an important object to another country, much less destroy it. Therefore, hiding it in a remote village on the border and spreading rumors that the Philosopher's Stone is merely a legendary object becomes a rather reasonable choice.
This is exactly what the previous kings did, and the discussion at the recent meeting was merely a formality; the conclusion was naturally to maintain the existing approach. Runehard had long been dissatisfied with this approach, and thus raised his objections at the meeting. However, despite being the crown prince, he only received a bucket of cold water.
"Damn it!"
*Thud!* The prince slammed his fist on the wooden table, but his anger remained undiminished. The indifferent expressions on the faces of his ministers, his father's reprimand for disregarding tradition, and even his mother's gentle, apologetic smile only fueled his irritation.
What tradition? Bullshit!
One day, war would break out on this continent again; peace could never last forever. When that day came, the Philosopher's Stone would become a pretext for foreign aggression, a world apart from the kingdom mastering its own methods. Yet these old men in power were all lost in the illusion of peace, oblivious to the deluge that would follow their deaths. Shouldn't they be making thorough preparations to maintain this precious peace?
Runehardt clutched his head in frustration, ruffling his servant's carefully styled hair. He knew that if he didn't, he might burst into a rage.
"Sigh..."
he sighed, regaining his usual composure. After all, anger wouldn't solve anything. He had to reflect on the shortcomings of his speech at today's meeting and how to improve it at the next one.
Runehardt was still a young man, and simply calming down had taken a considerable toll on his willpower. Moreover, because he was so focused on thinking, he didn't realize someone was behind him until a long shadow was cast on the wooden table.
"Whoa…!"
The sudden situation caused Runehardt to let out a short cry of surprise. He whirled around, but his movement was too abrupt, causing the chair to tip backward. He frantically waved his hands, trying to regain his balance, but after less than a second of futile effort, the chair still fell mercilessly, and a dull pain immediately crept up his back.
"Ouch…it hurts…"
He instinctively touched his back, and then a hand reached out to him. For Runehardt, being helped by servants since childhood was a matter of course, so he didn't hesitate and reflexively grasped the outstretched hand. The next instant, a kind of almost sweet numbness seemed to erode his sense of touch.
"Thank you…"
The arm gleamed with a pure white luster, like porcelain, its smooth, wonderful touch like a dream. Even as he stood up and released her hand, the artistic touch lingered on his fingertips, yearning for another touch and savoring. He tilted his head back, his gaze sliding from her hand to her arm, then upwards to the owner of that hand. And then, he saw her. He saw her.
That sweet feeling washed over him again, this time slipping into his eyes, flitting about in his mind.
A maid? Or someone else? Runehardt couldn't comprehend what this being that had suddenly appeared in the room was; only one word, one emotion, one concept filled his consciousness.
...So beautiful.
All other thoughts ceased. Her skin was supple and translucent, without a single blemish. Her dazzling golden hair cascaded down like silk woven from sunlight. A snow-white silk dress barely concealed her body, her perfect figure making the so-called golden ratio seem like a joke.
Faced with this almost frighteningly perfect 'beauty,' Runehardt even wondered if he was hallucinating. Trying to relieve the fatigue in his eyes, he rubbed his brow with two fingers, pressed for a moment, and then opened his eyes again.
"Are you alright?"
She hadn't disappeared after all. Her voice echoed her dazzling, dignified beauty—so sweet, just listening to it felt like being caressed, yet her tone carried a childlike innocence. Runehard realized she wasn't a hallucination.
Who was this woman? His reason cried out.
This palace was, after all, the most heavily guarded place in the entire kingdom, and the administrative offices, located deep within the royal residences, were not easily accessible to outsiders. He had long ago ordered that she not be disturbed unless it was an extremely urgent matter, and there should be guards and maids outside the door. How could someone bypass all sight and inexplicably appear in this room?
If it wasn't a hallucination, was it a dream? How could someone with such breathtaking beauty exist in this world? And, without warning, a peach-colored mist filled the entire room…wait, peach-colored mist? Dreaming of a beautiful woman was easy to explain, but what was this mist?
This question was the last struggle of his reason.
"Hmm~~~?"
A delicate, flawless face approached, and a sweet fragrance wafted into Runehardt's nostrils. It wasn't the light scent unique to women, nor the slightly pungent aroma of perfume. Rather, it was a sweet and mellow fragrance he had never smelled before, a bewitching scent that could captivate any man.
The thoughts that had just been brewing in his mind dissipated like mist, turning into wisps of clouds. Why was she here? None of that mattered anymore; a wonderful feeling of exhaustion slowly spread throughout his body. His tense expression relaxed, his knees went weak, and when he came to his senses, Runehardt realized he had knelt on the ground, unable to get up.
"Oops~ Did you accidentally get hurt?"
"Ah...ah..."
Runehardt couldn't think, as if something gripped his heart, emptying his mind. But not all consciousness had fallen asleep. Within him, biological instincts were issuing a silent yet powerful warning.
Too close. But even wanting to move away, his body wouldn't obey; his legs felt like lead, unable to stand. He tried to use his hands to push himself back, but his hands couldn't even muster enough strength to barely support his weight.
"Ha...ha...ha..."
Though his body remained motionless, his breathing was heavy and disordered, a thin layer of sweat covering his body. A surge of heat coursed through his body, boiling blood rushing to his groin. His pants betrayed him, creating a small tent.
"Ha...ha...ha...hehe..."
Perhaps Runehardt's puppy-dog breathing was too comical, because the woman casually imitated it twice, then laughed mischievously. Although it carried a hint of mockery, the woman's playful smile was so innocent and endearing that it was impossible to feel any aversion.
Who was she? Runehardt pondered once more. Then, the woman's devilish smile transformed into an angelic one. Runehardt's heart pounded uncontrollably. The woman reached out a hand, smoother than silk, and gently caressed his cheek.
"Ah..."
A strange, cool yet tender touch washed over him, a tranquil peace that almost made him sigh, intertwining seamlessly with a burning desire. To be touched by these hands, to be looked down upon like this, was such bliss.
Runehardt, as a prince, had almost never been looked down upon. Although as a child he had to raise his head to communicate with adults, on a spiritual level, adults were always the ones who had to defer to him. Aside from his parents and royalty from other countries, he had always been the one looking down on others; to him, this was the natural order of things.
But now, this woman looking down at him was too beautiful, too noble, preventing even a trace of displeasure from welling up within him. No, for him, as a member of royalty, to kneel before a woman like this was not only unpleasant, but an immense honor. Simply kneeling before her was an unparalleled glory, a divine blessing.
A flame of desire to serve her was ignited in Runehard's heart. He suddenly realized the woman's identity, and a slight smile unconsciously touched his lips.
"Goddess... Your Majesty?"
In his eyes, the woman's existence was so magnificent. She was a pillar supporting the heavens and earth, one of countless stars. For this overwhelming 'beauty' that was breathtaking even to behold, what other title could come to mind besides 'goddess'? Runehard was essentially a pragmatist, so when an existence beyond comprehension descended before him, the impact was all the more profound.
"Eh?"
At this moment, the 'goddess' blinked with a hint of surprise.
"Ah... Yes. That's right, I am a goddess. Please call me Freya."
An angelic smile, a nightingale-like voice. She responded softly, confirming his guess. Runehardt was captivated by the woman's beauty and charm, yet a hint of doubt crept into her momentary hesitation.
"What's wrong? Is this your first time seeing a 'goddess'?" Perhaps
she wasn't a goddess at all. Perhaps she was just going along with it because he'd casually uttered the word.
"Th-that..."
"Hmm?"
As if trying to see through Runehardt, the woman leaned closer, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe.
So...so beautiful.
Runehardt felt his inner doubts exposed in the woman's crystal-clear eyes, and he guiltily averted his gaze. His gaze traveled from her sweetly breathing pink lips down her alabaster neck, finally settling on her full, voluptuous breasts, his thoughts becoming hazy.
"What?"
His doubts shattered like bubbles. How could she not be a goddess? That beautiful, gentle smile...how could she not be a goddess? Runehardt suddenly felt inexplicably ashamed of his earlier doubts.
"No, it's nothing..."
He immediately found an excuse to submit—a goddess like her must be known to everyone, but his complete ignorance of her had startled her. If that was the case, what a grave sin he had committed, and how could he possibly gain her forgiveness? Runehardt's body answered before his mind, and he immediately assumed a posture of prostrating himself in repentance.
"I-I'm so sorry!!!"
"Oh dear...what's wrong now?"
"This...I..."
"Why are you apologizing to me?"
"I-I was so foolish. I actually doubted your identity as a goddess. It's impossible...after all, you are so beautiful...please, please forgive my folly!!"
Looking at the comical sight of Runehardt prostrating himself in apology, the woman couldn't help but lightly cover her mouth, letting out a barely audible, adorable laugh.
"Looks like it's much easier than I imagined~~"
"Um...what did you say..."
"Nothing. Alright, get up."
Runehardt was helped up by the goddess, his happiness overflowing, but his knees were still trembling uncontrollably.
"Your eyes are practically glued to the screen... Are you happy? To see the goddess in person like this."
"Ah... um... I'm... incredibly honored..."
Runehardt didn't know how to deal with such a distant and magnificent being; his usually sharp mind was now completely blank. Anyway, thankfully, he didn't find any trace of anger on her face. So he decided that rather than apologizing, he should first imprint this face, which he would only see twice in his life, into his memory.
"Is that so? Hehe~ It's alright, just immerse yourself in this comfortable feeling, relax~~ relax~~~"
Freya didn't scold Runehardt for his bewildered and foolish appearance; instead, she cast a gaze overflowing with affection. Her slightly narrowed, beautiful eyes pulled him deeper into her world. Having received the goddess's forgiveness, Runehardt let down all his defenses. The muscles in his cheeks relaxed, and a misty haze filled his eyes, as if he had fallen into a beautiful dream.
"Oh dear... How pathetic I am~~ Hehehe~~~"
Ah... how forgiving... how warm... Bathed in Freya's radiance, Runehard felt as if he were walking in the bright sunshine of spring, his whole body enveloped in wonderful tenderness. If only time could stop here... if only the world could freeze in this moment forever...
Runehard was completely intoxicated. Just the fact that this absolute being was here with him, with his tiny self, sharing this wonderful moment... that alone surpassed all the finest wines in the world, taking him to a moment of bliss. He was so intoxicated that he didn't even notice his crotch swelling uncontrollably like a boy about to ejaculate.
"Calmed down? Can we talk for a bit?"
"Y-yes..."
Even so, he wasn't completely out of his mind.
"Um... I have something I'd like to ask you. Could you please answer me?"
"Of course, whatever you want to know, as long as I know it, I'll tell you everything I know."
At this moment, Runehard was almost a puppet manipulated by Freya's words, but the name she uttered pulled Runehard out of his dream.
"Actually... it's about the Philosopher's Stone."
"!!!"
The Philosopher's Stone. Just moments ago, he was still troubled by this thing; aside from the high-ranking officials attending court meetings, almost no one knew about it. But she knew.
"Why... would she know?"
Had someone leaked the information? Was some minister trying to make a move before he ascended the throne? Or was it a retainer hiding the Philosopher's Stone in his territory trying to avoid trouble? A traitor? A spy?
Runehardt's questions only lasted a few seconds.
"I'm a goddess, isn't it only natural that I know?"
Freya's smile had an all-encompassing infectiousness, churning endlessly in Runehardt's mind. This illogical reasoning, if merely written on paper and judged by a third party not present, unaffected by Freya's beautiful figure and words, would likely be suspicious to anyone.
"……………………"
But Runehardt was not like that at this moment. Her otherworldly beauty, the gentleness overflowing in her bright eyes, and the sensual stimulation that struck her instincts made her words unquestionable. Even if there were still some doubts and suspicions, they all shattered like bubbles the moment he met her smile.
Watching Runehardt's will and strength disappear from his face and body once again, Freya approached with a smile. Then, Runehardt noticed something, and his eyes were fixed on it.
Without realizing it, he knelt down again. The goddess was petite, and at this moment, her breasts were at the same eye level as his. As she got closer, those white mounds of flesh undeniably pressed straight towards his eyes.
Although those breasts, which almost overflowed from her clothes, were still somewhat restrained by gravity, and were rather large for her height, disrupting the balance, their beautiful shape was enough to change one's values and make one believe that this was the most perfect balance in the world. Soft, flowing lines outlined hills and valleys; if someone were to unfortunately place their hand within them, they would likely never be able to pull it back.
What would happen if he could touch those breasts, if he could hold them tightly? Desire ignited his fantasies, even instilling a sliver of fear—if so, something would surely happen. Something incredibly beautiful, yet incredibly terrifying.
But this fear left Runehard powerless. Reason and instinct were driven to a corner of his mind, trembling slightly, a faint alarm bell barely audible, how could he resist the body overflowing with desire and temptation before him? Freya's hands touched his cheeks, pulling his gaze, fixed on his chest, back to her eyes.
"Ah..."
The pleasure of his cheeks being caressed and the guilt of staring at the goddess's breasts surged through him. As a prince, Runehard was naturally well-versed in etiquette from a young age. But now he had committed such an impudent act, especially before the goddess herself...
Shame burned on his cheeks, and he couldn't help but want to avert his gaze. Freya seized the opportunity, stroking Runehard's cheek while casting him a loving gaze and whispering softly.
"Is there...something you want to tell me?"
Each time her warm hand brushed his cheek, the unpleasant guilt crept away, replaced by a warm peace. Could it be that the goddess hadn't noticed my shameful behavior? No, impossible, she's the all-knowing goddess! She noticed, and even so, she forgave me… As this thought arose, Runehard sank deeper into the blissful swamp of surrender.
"I've always been watching you…you've truly tried so hard."
"Lady Freya…!"
So, she had been silently protecting him all along? In this court filled with desire and selfishness, he had been fighting silently and alone. Now, those efforts had finally paid off. The goddess had finally appeared herself to lend him a hand…
those who couldn't understand his righteousness and ideals were banished from their minds. In the space they had left was the supreme goddess who had acknowledged his efforts.
"Hey~~~~"
With words brimming with affection, a sweet breath brushed against Runehardt's cheek. Her breath, like the finest blend of milk and honey, lifted Runehardt to a blissful heights.
"Ah… oh…"
His consciousness was lost in bliss. When the one you believe in most is before you, willing to listen to your tales, who could keep a secret?
"Actually…"
Runehardt said. In his mind, a jumbled mess stirred by Freya, he desperately searched for clues. The power of the Philosopher's Stone, the risks of wielding it. The situation of the continent's nations, the anticipated war, and those old men who disregarded the greater good, caring only for their own survival.
Even in his confused state, Prince Runehard still spoke with remarkable coherence, but his attitude was like that of a child showing his work to his mother after learning to write, filled with a yearning for approval.
Freya listened with a calm smile, occasionally throwing out a question or two. Her tone was innocent and kind, and she nodded in agreement with Runehard's incessant narration. Overjoyed by the goddess's affirmation, Runehard blurted out everything he could think of.
"How pitiful... to persevere alone in such difficult circumstances..."
"Please... what should I do?"
At some point, Runehard clasped his hands together in a prayerful gesture—if it were the goddess, she would surely have a way! He was absolutely certain of it.
“I see…hidden in the village…where exactly?”
“In a hidden compartment in the attic of the village chief’s house in Mekhov.”
A mischievous glint flashed in the goddess’s eyes, but to Runehard, it was undoubtedly a glimmer of wisdom.
“That’s not good. As you said, it would be safer to place him in the capital.”
“Great! You agree with me!”
“But…too hasty won’t do.”
“What you mean is…?”
Freya rested her chin on her hand, feigning thought. Runehard waited for her command like a puppy with a collar.
“Runehard.”
“You…know my name?”
This was the first time Freya had called him by name since they met.
“Of course. Haven’t I been watching you all along? I ask you, from now on, will you belong to me?”
To the goddess, the countless humans in the world were nothing more than ants. But among this swarm of ants, the goddess had made a special appearance before him, even knowing his name. Didn't this mean he was also special to the goddess? Runehard was overwhelmed with emotion, almost to the point of tears. If someone were to paint a portrait of this captivated prince at this moment, it would surely be passed down through generations.
"Please... let me serve you!"
He didn't understand that the goddess's words meant making him her 'possession'. He was only excited about establishing such a bond with the object of his worship and agreed without thinking.
Was it really okay? He felt as if he had unknowingly... committed some grave mistake...
Even now, Runehardt's reason hadn't completely given up the struggle. It strained with all its might, uttering a barely audible cry—something's wrong, something's wrong. This flickering rationality, like a candle in the wind, stemmed from his tireless efforts.
This flame of his soul should have ignited a blazing fire at some point in the future, but before that day arrived, he encountered Freya. Perhaps this was the cruel irony of fate.
"Don't worry, don't be afraid, leave everything to me...?"
No, this won't do. But... what's wrong with me... ahh...
Soft hands enveloped Runehardt's cheeks. His gaze was completely unfocused.
"Good boy~~~ good boy~~~ good boy~~~ Your mind is blank except for my pleasant scent and sweet voice, right? Be good, okay~~~ that way, I'll make you feel even better~~~?"
"Ah... ah..."
"Look into my eyes, the light in my pupils is so bright. Isn't it beautiful?"
Runehardt almost regained his ability to think, almost took control of himself. But before that, his soul was firmly captivated by Freya's eyes, more alluring than emeralds.
A crimson light shone from those emerald pupils.
"Be good~~~ Be good~~~~ You're my good boy~~~~?"
Runehardt felt his body become lighter, as if tossed into a cloud. He even forgot his words, being led step by step into the depths of the dream.
"Hehehe~~~~ Comfortable? It must feel very comfortable, right??" It felt
as if something inside him was about to leak out of his chest.
"Take slow, deep breaths~~~~ Empty your mind~~~~ It feels like melting, right?"
Freya's light words echoed, transforming into phantoms that enveloped him. He could hear nothing but her words. All his strength was drained, and he could no longer distinguish between dream and wakefulness. Runehardt, his face cupped in Freya's hands, struggled to stand.
"Huh? You want to kiss the goddess...?" Of course
I want to... but how could I defile her like this... But, I want to so much ... ahh ... In an instant, something flowed from Freya into Runehard's body. The sensation was first like countless particles of light washing over his body, then transforming into a vortex of sensuality, violently washing over his entire being. Something seemed to have been burned to ashes. Before he could even adjust to this upside-down feeling, a powerful burst dispersed all the ashes. His body was so hot, his ears were practically steaming, as if trying to expel the charred remains from his body. Only then did Runehard finally realize that this was sexual arousal. His genitals were almost bursting out of his pants, the fabric between his legs filthy. But for him, deeply enchanted, these things were no longer important. Just being in Freya's presence, the overwhelming pleasure made his urge to ejaculate surge again. Runehard's eyes were now only on Freya. Freya tilted her head to observe him, as if confirming this as well. With unbelievable gentleness, she softly said to Runehard, "Kneel." Runehard, as if manipulated by invisible threads, knelt on the ground with astonishing force, his forehead slamming against the floor with a loud thud. Had it not been for the thick carpet, he would likely be bleeding from his head. Before meeting the goddess, this prince had never knelt so humbly before anyone. Even though others often knelt before him, he had never felt any pleasure in such an act. But now, he knew the pleasure of submission, knew the intoxicating peace and fulfillment that came from offering everything to another. "Heh. So now you belong to me—Freya." Ahh~~~~ Lady Freya~~~~~~ The goddess's name was indelibly etched into his chest. The heat accumulated in his spirit and body surged and boiled, no matter how much scorching breath he exhaled, it could not cool it down; even the inside of his cheeks felt scorched. "And your answer? " "Yes, sir!" "Everything I have is yours! Everything belongs to you!" The mere declaration of loyalty filled him with immense glory, while his groin burned with an intense, throbbing heat. He was kneeling on the ground, practically a dog in heat. But even if he were aware of this, he would probably only kneel even more vigorously. "Hmph...alright, alright. Lift your head." "Ah..." To be able to look up at her beautiful figure with the goddess's permission was truly wonderful. Her face held the expression of a ruler, further confirming Runehardt's belief that he was under her protection. Her alluring physique, which would undoubtedly make all the beauties in the country jealous, made Runehardt's waist ache. "Swear your loyalty to me." "Yes, yes!" A soft rustling of silk . Freya gracefully placed her right foot beneath Runehard's nose. Runehard was unaware of the custom of kissing someone's feet as a sign of loyalty, but when this perfect jade foot came to rest before him, he instantly understood what to do. He carefully cradled the goddess's foot as if it were fragile, beautiful porcelain. The feeling of glory and the perfect touch of that foot almost made him faint; only his reverence for Freya prevented him from being so impolite. When his lips touched the silky skin of Freya's instep, the feeling of dedicating everything to her became even more irresistible. "I offer you everything, Lady Freya." Though dazed, his words came from the heart. Freya smiled contentedly, but planned to make this poor man fall even deeper. "Then... do you have any offerings to give me?" Runehard was still lost in the melancholy of the goddess's beautiful foot leaving his palm. Hearing Freya's urging, he hurriedly snapped out of his reverie and looked around. Yes, why was he so foolish? A vow alone wasn't enough. Was there anything he could offer the goddess? No, nothing. Even if he turned this simple room upside down, or emptied the entire treasury of the royal palace, nothing would be worthy of the great Lady Freya! "This… please accept it." He would at least offer his most valuable possession. Without hesitation, he removed a necklace adorned with an octahedral crystal from his neck. Freya's questioning gaze fell upon him through the crystal; she didn't seem inclined to accept it. "What is this?" "A necklace passed down through generations of the royal family. It contains a great deal of magic, but unfortunately, I don't know how to use it. I hope it will be of some help to you." " Is it really alright to give me your family heirloom?"

Freya's words jolted Runehardt's lightheaded mind back to the implications of giving up the necklace. This object was practically a symbol of his right to the throne, and he always carried it close to his body. If it suddenly disappeared from his person, everyone would be astonished. Lying that it was lost would surely cause a commotion, while saying he didn't want to wear it would arouse suspicion.
"That's precisely why I hope you'll accept it."
It's alright, none of that matters. What about his father? What about his mother? Could they compare to the goddess Freya? Now, he couldn't bring himself to say something as shameful as 'I can't give this to you.' If it did cause any trouble, he'd consider it a test of his faith.
"I have nothing worthy of you. But even though it's very important to me, I'm still willing to offer it to you."
If Runehardt hadn't been panting like a puppy in heat, this resolute statement might have actually sounded quite heroic. Freya smiled, her eyes narrowing, and politely refused.
“How can that be? You are the one who will lead this country in the future; it’s too important to you. Take it back; I can’t accept this.”
“I-I’m sorry! Then I’ll find another treasure to offer you!”
Runehardt hadn’t expected to be refused. He frantically rummaged through his pockets, his eyes scanning the room repeatedly. At that moment, Freya cupped his face in her hands and gently pulled him into her embrace.
“Don’t be afraid, it’s alright. Your heart is enough. Your loyalty is my priceless treasure.”
“Ah…ah…thank you…”
Runehardt shed tears of gratitude. He was even more certain that he was the luckiest man in the world; his gratitude and love for the goddess almost tore his chest apart.
Freya let Runehardt cry against her chest for a while. Then, from somewhere, she produced a bracelet inlaid with an oval amethyst, its size perfectly fitting Runehardt’s wrist.
"As a return gift, I bestow this upon you."
"This is...?"
"This is proof of your devotion to me. Be sure to treat it as me, and carry it with you at all times, if you do..."
The goddess's face drew closer, and Runehard unconsciously swallowed.
"Hmm...?"
Just as he thought the goddess's sweet kiss was about to descend, Freya slightly turned her face away.
"I will always be by your side."
The goddess's breath blew directly into his brain through his ear, and an uncontrollable tremor ran from his head to his toes.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!!"
Receiving the proof of faith bestowed by the goddess, Runehard was overjoyed and turned around to eagerly put on the bracelet. The bracelet seemed to adhere to his wrist, the cool touch was very comfortable. "
It really suits you, it's so beautiful~~"
"R-really? Ha-ha ... I've met the goddess! She listened to my troubles! I swore my loyalty to her! She accepted my devotion! What awaits me now? How can I deepen this bond? "Well... I should probably head back now." "Huh?" Runehardt thought this sweet, blissful time would last forever. Freya so easily declared the end of his dream. "How... how could this be..." Runehardt blinked in astonishment, like a child about to be abandoned by his mother, his eyes pleading as he looked at Freya. The unease of the goddess disappearing from his sight was unbearable. "That's right, just like now, offer me prayers every night. Offer me your vows every night—that you will do everything in your power for me. Do you understand? Then goodbye." "Ahhh~~~~ Lady Freya~~~!!" Looking down at Runehard, who was pleading with his hand outstretched like a baby, Freya smiled gently as always, slowly extending her foot in front of Runehard. "Don't be sad, as long as you still wear the bracelet, we'll see each other again soon. So~~~~ the vow you made to me today, be firmly engraved in your flesh and heart!?" The goddess's jade foot stepped down between Runehard's thighs. The soft toes gently pressed against the base of his penis, pulled upwards, and then snapped back at the swollen glans, firmly pinching the tip. "Is that okay~~??" "Ughhh~~~~~!!!!" A burst of sparks erupted between his thighs, his entire body's nerves were instantly ignited, and a pathetic groan escaped uncontrollably from his throat. What happened? He didn't know. Before he could even comprehend the pleasure, a thick stream of white semen gushed out, easily tearing through his trousers. His body convulsed with the ecstasy of ejaculation. "Ugh...ha...ahhh..." Runehardt had no strength left to even feel shame. Freya glanced at his comical state, unable to extricate himself from the afterglow, as if it were nothing more than a normal little thing. She chuckled softly, then took light steps and walked past him. "Bye-bye~~~" Freya turned her head one last time, blowing Runehardt a kiss. He, however, was still deeply immersed in the heavenly afterglow of pleasure, unable to do anything but stare blankly at the goddess's departing figure. Naturally, she left through the front door.

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