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Fallen Paradise 

Foreword

Vima is a plane favored by numerous gods. The three main gods—Hyperion, the goddess of light
; Asmodeus, the god of desire; and Gaia, the earth goddess—jointly govern this plane. In addition
, countless other gods, large and small, are also involved, making the plane's population extremely diverse.

Because Asmodeus and Gaia are both goddesses,
female cultivation in this plane is very easy, and their reproductive rate is much higher than that of men. To prevent the imbalance of
power from jeopardizing the plane's stability, Asmodeus granted men
the ability to rapidly increase their power by consuming female flesh and satisfying their desires.

Hyperion deeply abhors these two abilities. He governs 'order,' 'steadfastness,' and 'civilization,'
which contradict Asmodeus's 'chaos,' 'destruction,' and 'lust.' This situation
naturally manifested among their subordinate divine servants. The races of the Vima continent quickly formed nations and tribes,
and war began, seemingly without end as civilization progressed.

The relationship between the Dragon God Kingdom and the Olympian gods was neither particularly good nor bad; neither side desired enmity.
As a non-chief god, the Black Dragon King Sumersis, whose lifespan was unknown, possessed formidable strength that even the chief gods
were reluctant to provoke. Even within the Dragon God Kingdom, he held a considerable position. Therefore, despite
the continents being repeatedly divided and united due to the interference of various gods' wills, Sumersis remained unconcerned about
the wars between different races. He occupied the most fertile land on the edge of the continent as his dwelling place.

Although the Black Dragon King was a dragon, he loved excitement and spent most of his time in slumber. Many desperate
fugitives fled to his territory. Over time, a city was gradually built: Blue Star City.

The neutral city of Blue Star City is a peaceful gray area, home to many powerful individuals, a significant portion of whom are stained with blood and
burdened with debts of blood, leading to constant struggles and suppression. After several large-scale battles that awakened Sumersis,
resulting in their being reduced to ashes, the newcomers gradually learned to understand Sumersis's temperament.

The Black Dragon King Sumersis enjoys watching battles but abhors destruction, and craves delicious food, the humiliation and conquest of powerful women from various
races , treasure, prosperity, and so on.

After a period of adjustment, the people here established a set of rules that suited the Black Dragon King's tastes:

1. Those engaged in production and not involved in any conflicts, such as farmers and artisans, are not allowed to be harmed.
Their products can be sold in the public market through fair trade. This market strictly prohibits any acts of harm,
deception or petty theft, thus ensuring Blue Star City's basic needs.

2. Anyone of any race is welcome to visit and settle here, as long as they have money or can prove their strength and
ability.

3. Large-scale brawls are prohibited. Battles capable of destroying an entire street are absolutely forbidden. To this end,
various major powers have established numerous arenas where many conflicts can be resolved, including
the ownership of those arenas.

4. Everyone here must pay taxes to His Majesty Sumersis according to their wealth and power.

Later, Sumersis felt these arenas were not to his liking, so he invested in his own
arena, the largest in Blue Star City, named "Fallen Paradise." It was specifically used to humiliate strong female
warriors to satisfy his own desires. Managing this arena was one of his sex slaves,
the demon queen Ibilis, who loved to torture women.


Chapter One: The Fall of

Lota City was already in ruins after days of attack. Raging flames burned throughout the city,
and .

Swarms of minotaurs, orcs, trolls, werewolves, and demons poured into
the city through the massive breach in the walls. Battle raged everywhere; barbarians, humans, elves, winged warriors, mages, and archers
fought bloody battles from the crumbling fortifications.

In a few key locations, strong men held their ground, often defending
strategic . Violent magic exploded amidst the chaos, and fierce battle auras lashed at the enemy. The battlefield
was littered with the corpses of various races, the ground slippery with blood and gore. Almost every male warrior died a gruesome death, either
hacked to pieces or riddled with mangled flesh. Only a few lucky ones and
those who surrendered were captured and sold into slavery.

The vast majority of the fighting, however, was waged by women. Their attacks were swift and dazzling, a blur of motion as they
clashed between roads and buildings. However, they were outnumbered. One after another,
female warriors had their limbs severed and their bodies pierced by sharp weapons. The evil enemies, to humiliate them, often
cut open their bellies, pulled out their intestines, and toyed with them, inserting their penises into their genitals to churn their internal organs. When they encountered male
enemies, they were often publicly raped and then, in humiliation, devoured alive.

A troll, as tall as two stories, walked slowly down the street. Though slow, each stride covered
dozens of meters; the orc warriors were not much faster. His heavy body caused
the ground . He held a tree trunk stripped of its crown in his hand. Whenever an order came, he would swing the trunk,
smashing down a sturdy house, and then wait to devour human flesh.

Trolls love war above all else. Feeding these war monsters is no easy feat; only war
can provide them with a full meal, especially siege warfare. During sieges, they are assigned dozens of orc
slaves to gather food for them. Their appetites are enormous, so anyone who raises trolls is undoubtedly an ambitious and
powerful individual .

At this moment, dozens of orc slaves brought him the corpses of female soldiers from the battlefield. He
grabbed them into his mouth, crunching and swallowing. He didn't care whether the meat was dead or alive, old or young
, elves, barbarians, humans, winged people, or even the leftovers of others. He
loved any flesh that was female. An adult female was just the right size for one bite, enough to fill their mouth, and he found it incredibly satisfying.

In fact, many of the female soldiers were not dead, but merely severely wounded or incapacitated by limb injuries.
When the troll's enormous hand came down, they would involuntarily scream in terror,
kicking the troll's hand with their last ounce of strength to delay being devoured by this disgusting monster. Unfortunately, in the end, every one of them...
All attempts failed.

The troll was always particularly happy when he caught a live prey. The women of the Light faction were all incredibly
beautiful, unlike the rough and unrefined orcs. Only the women of a few minority races, such as succubi and vampires,
could rival the women of the Light faction. He would hold the prey in his mouth and suck hard, forcibly drawing out the woman's
sweat , urine, and blood. This often
pulled out most of the blood and internal organs from their wounds and between their delicate legs, instantly rendering the woman completely incapacitated.

The sensation was like a plump, juicy berry bursting with sweet juice in the mouth. This eating technique was
widespread among trolls. Sometimes, they could even suck out a lot of refreshing milk and vaginal fluid, then slowly suck and grind, using
their foul-smelling, rough mouths to separate the tender flesh from the bones, feeling the aroma of blood and entrails
explode in their mouths, slowly melting into saliva before chewing and swallowing the separated flesh and bones, their mouths full of
blood.

There were as many as thirty such trolls in the attacking force. They lined up in a row,
moving forward like tanks, crushing all resistance. Seeing the trolls approach, everyone would become tense and fearful.
The combination of strength and negative emotions greatly accelerated the fall of Lota City.

One group of minotaurs had already stormed into an arrow tower, forcing the other groups to retreat elsewhere. The battle inside
was one-sided. The minotaurs were a third taller than the renowned elves, wielding battle axes that doubled as
round massive bodies constantly thrusting forward. Ordinary female soldiers, whether shielding
themselves or hacking away, could hardly inflict any damage. Archers atop the arrow towers fired downwards,
but their shots only struck the hard horns and axes, clanging and clattering in vain.

With a single impact, the only five female knights and elven beauties were thrown off balance. Two of the nimble
elven beauties were flung against the wall before falling to the ground. The succubus, serving as a squire among the ranks, glanced at
the women to confirm their worth before standing aside, watching as the five fastest minotaurs each
grabbed a beautiful prisoner and pinned them down. They reached into their battle skirts, tearing off their undergarments to reveal either
hairy or smooth genitals. Then, they pulled out their thick, long penises, each as thick as the women's upper arms, and pressed them against their vulvas. Amid
the pitiful cries of these female soldiers, they thrust their hips forward, forcibly widening their narrow vaginas from a ditch
into a tunnel. With the lubrication of blood and a small amount of vaginal fluid, they pounded in a few times until their terrifying penises penetrated
above .

The battle skirts and chainmail used by the female soldiers to bind their waists became accomplices. Huge penises were forcibly inserted into their lower abdomens,
causing not only tearing pain in their genitals but also a long bulge in their abdomens. All their internal organs were
violently compressed, causing their eyes to roll back, their pretty faces to turn red, and their tongues to
stick out as they gagged incessantly, as if their internal organs were about to spill out. Even the female soldiers with the strongest will to resist could not endure such torment,
letting out low, mournful groans, but no longer able to retaliate.

The winged people in the sky were not safe either. The orcs' javelins might not pose much of a threat, but the vampires, with their
incredibly , could often pounce on them. The succubi, with their brief ability to fly, could also unleash powerful
hidden weapons and dark magic; once their wings were injured, the falling winged beauties almost certainly could not escape
the fate of being violated.

Despite their enormous sacrifices, Lota City continued to fall under the relentless onslaught.
The stone roofs crumbled under the troll's massive club. The male warriors who resisted were killed
on the spot ; the wounded were deemed unsuitable for capture. The women were dragged out and counted; only the young and beautiful
were taken prisoner.

The tower in the northwest corner was one of the last strongholds of Lota City. The legendary mage Lilith led a
large force stationed there, with over a hundred winged archers constantly circling it. Thirty-odd elven maidens
aimed their branch-like bows downwards, their arrows whistling incessantly. Their cunning
arrows always managed to slip through the blind spots of the enemy's shields, killing them instantly. The corpses of female orcs piled up below
the tower . They desperately tried to push the battering ram against the tower's walls, attempting to open a new entrance, but
with each step forward, many fell.

A few warriors rushed through the tower's gates, but the barbarian female warriors wielding greatswords and the well-rounded female
knights, with their organizational advantage, swiftly dispatched and killed the enemies one by one. The priests continuously cast various divine spells upon them.
In this restrictive terrain, the human's organizational superiority was undeniable.

A troll warrior, receiving orders to destroy the area, charged forward, but before reaching within 300 meters, he was blasted away by
Lilith 's explosive fireball, rolling and crushing three houses, killing countless
warriors from both sides.

"Reporting to Count Tasi, the 7th and 8th orc teams' advance has been stalled; the 15th, 16th, and 17th
teams suffered heavy losses before the Temple of Light; progress in other areas is going smoothly." A female demon suddenly appeared at the city
gate , kneeling on one knee. Before her, a withered-faced vampire old man walked slowly,
unhurried, as if strolling leisurely across a battlefield.

Count Tasi, the old vampire, nodded in satisfaction: "Order all troops that have finished fighting to attack the Temple of Light,
surround it, and capture Princess Octavia alive."

The female demon hesitated: "Lord Tasi, shouldn't we take the tower first?"

"Let those filthy orcs attack the tower. It's the last stronghold of the Potts Kingdom; taking
it will take too long." Tasi arrogantly ordered.

"Yes, as you wish." The female demon leaped high and flew to the rear to relay the order.

The palace had already fallen. King Olaf escaped through a secret passage with a few guards, while many of
the women who hadn't managed to evacuate were taken prisoner. Princess Octavia had long since evacuated all her elite troops to the Temple of Light for a final
stand. As a chosen one of the God of Light, she couldn't allow herself to abandon the glory of the Potts Kingdom, nor could she, as
a chosen one of the God of Light, abandon so many subordinates and flee alone.

What she didn't know was that the Potts Kingdom was under siege by so many races precisely because of her. From the age of five,
Octavia displayed astonishing talent, becoming a low-ranking knight and receiving the favor of the God of Light. At seven, she
began striving to become a mid-ranking knight; at nine, she formed the Blood Rose Knights; and at fifteen, she became a high-ranking knight.
At the age of 18, she had already become a legendary guardian knight, a truly exceptional talent in the history of the Lavie plane
.

The Kingdom of Potts began constructing temples on a grand scale, and under the protection of the God of Light, they grew increasingly powerful,
transforming from a small country into a medium-sized nation in just a few years. The proud Octavia seemed unsatisfied; she began uniting
other races of the Light faction to join the Blood Rose, launching wave after wave of attacks against the Evil faction, constantly
expanding her territory, determined to elevate the Kingdom of Potts to the ranks of great powers.

In just 10 years, the Blood Rose Knights had slain over 500,000 enemies. Under her fierce
offensive, more than five tribes were exterminated, and 15 others declined from their former glory, fleeing their fertile lands and retreating into the
relatively barren mountains. The Blood Rose Knights were known as the "Dagger of the God of Light," and Octavia was
revered as "The Blood of the Rose.

" "What a pity. If she hadn't been so impatient, the Kingdom of Potts wouldn't have died so young," Count Tasi remarked leisurely
, watching the battle before the Temple of Light. The outcome was already decided. Octavia was, after all, just a legendary knight. Even a chosen one
couldn't annihilate a single enemy unit, even with half of her Blood Rose warriors remaining. The
allied forces surrounding them numbered over 20 units. Unless two demigods intervened, they would be exhausted to death.   Octavia probably never imagined that the reinforcements from the three kingdoms and so many races weren't blocked, but rather had no intention of coming. Those surrounding battles, large and small, were merely opportunities for the two factions to eliminate dissenting voices. Although the reinforcements were real, and their commanders were mostly genuinely there to help, what good did it do? Their every move had been betrayed to him . Count Tasi even possessed a list of those armies to repel, besiege, or annihilate, although this intelligence had been acquired at a considerable cost of money and treasures; on this point, both sides had reached an understanding.   Of course, strictly following orders was impossible, but as long as the principle there wouldn't be too much of a problem. After all, some generals were descendants of demigods, and killing them would cause a lot of trouble.   As for those nobles and generals who wanted to climb the ranks through military merit, those who knew what was good for them would be fine, but those who didn't would only end up getting themselves killed and wouldn't cause any significant trouble.   The highest leaders of both camps didn't even mind helping Olaf restore his kingdom, as this would satisfy the God of Light, but Octavia and her Blood Rose had to disappear. They had developed too quickly and were too powerful, making both sides nervous. They had to nip Octavia in the bud before the situation spiraled out of control into a world war, otherwise , divine authority might seize control of everything, and the lives and property of the kings would be threatened.   This is a struggle between divine and royal power, a relationship of mutual dependence yet fraught with suspicion.   Vice-Commander Milia has already escorted His Majesty the King away, taking with her a third of the Bloodstained Rose Knights. Octavia can only lead 50,000 Royal Guards, 100,000 ordinary soldiers, and a mere 2,000 members of the Rose Knights.   After days of fierce fighting, only a little over 400 knights remain. The female knights and soldiers stationed elsewhere, as their strongholds fall one by one, suffer a similar fate. The corpses of the dead fall into the mouths of trolls as food, and those who survive far worse off—they are either gang-raped on the spot or captured. Only the stronger and most beautiful women are targeted for capture by the female demon overseers, with the Rose Knights naturally being the most valuable among them.   Before the magnificent Temple of Light, the Blood Rose Knights fought relentlessly. They had no choice but to fight to the death; surrender and capture were outcomes they dreaded. Their attackers were low-ranking female soldiers, while the hideous male minotaurs, orcs, lizardmen, serpent demons, and demons were all officers of captain rank or higher . Besides commanding the battle, they repeatedly staged horrific acts of rape and tearing flesh apart right before their eyes. For them, the death of their men was insignificant; their superiors would take care of them . On the contrary, humiliating and abusing the enemy on the battlefield was far more effective in striking them down.   If other armies witnessed such horrific scenes of their comrades, the female warriors would have trembled with fear and lost their will to fight. But the knights of the Blood Rose Knights were different. They were battle-hardened warriors, possessing no shortage of courage to die in battle. The fate of their comrades only fueled their fighting spirit. They constantly shifted formations, fighting in layers upon layers. Knights who retreated to rest, shields in hand, fiercely protected the priests and mages behind them, fighting for every last minute of the team's survival. But the enemy was simply too numerous; blood had stained the white stone pavement and flowerbeds red, and the corpses and wounded on both sides were so densely packed that there was nowhere to step.   Wave after wave of enemies poured into this meat grinder-like battlefield, relentlessly pressing down on the Bloodstained Rose Knights, making it hard for them to breathe. At the forefront of this wave was a female knight in pink armor, wielding a pink greatsword. She wore no helmet; her long, fiery red hair was soaked , plastered to her back. Her resolute eyes blazed with fury, and her fair face was covered in tiny specks of blood—splattered by enemies. More bloodstains covered her pink armor, making it appear exceptionally vibrant, a striking contrast of deep red and pink.   This armor is incredibly form-fitting and ingeniously designed, resembling stacked pink rose petals. The armor is a relatively independent design, consisting of a breastplate, long gloves, a knee-length skirt, boots, and a crown. The neck, shoulders, elbows, skirt hem, and insteps are all shaped like rose petals, balancing aesthetics and defense. A large, bowl-sized rosebud is cut out on the chest, revealing a deep cleavage from her incredibly firm and large breasts, a testament to the unjust oppression they have suffered. Any woman who appreciates beauty would feel an urge to rush forward and righteously liberate them.   Her upper arms, lower abdomen, and a section of her thigh are bare, showcasing the incredible agility of her muscular body with every movement. The red splattered marks on her skin create a striking visual contrast with her fair skin, suggesting she is a thorny rose, not one that any man is qualified to conquer.   Her fighting style was expansive and powerful, with a chilling yet domineering aura that created a strong visual impact. No enemy could stand within five meters of her for more than 10 seconds, and her heavy greatsword gleamed with a holy light.


































































A white light swirled around her, as beautiful as a dance, bringing only the terror of death to her enemies.
Whether they were werewolves, lizardmen, vampires, demons, or war beasts, and regardless of whether they wielded spiked clubs,
machetes, spears, swords, or shields, most could not withstand her swift and deadly strikes. Even if they managed to block one
, most were rendered incapable of fighting, and a follow-up strike would instantly turn them into corpses.

With her holding off the strongest offensive, the remaining enemies' momentum and attacks naturally slowed down. Relying on their numerical
advantage and superior equipment and training, their combined army was caught in a chaotic melee. In this battle with no room to maneuver, enemy
attacks were almost always blocked by shields, then pierced by spears, and disrupted by magic, falling row after row to be hacked and
stabbed to death, becoming part of the corpses. Between each wave of attacks, all the female soldiers would gaze with reverence at that incredibly resolute figure who

seemed never to fall .   That was the chosen one of the God of Light, betrothed to Rion. At 18, she became a legendary knight, known as the Blood of the Rose, a princess of the Kingdom of Potts, a genius girl who had once slain a legendary berserker warrior.   It was because of her, like a reef, that she stood in front, tearing apart wave after wave of enemy attacks, allowing her comrades fighting to catch their breath in the relentless battle. She seemed to transform into a blood-stained rose, radiating dazzling brilliance, her swirling greatsword like blooming petals, beautiful yet deadly, making one wish to freeze time in that moment, to seal it in crystal and cherish it forever. Unfortunately, those cannon fodder were tasteless, simple-minded bumpkins, only knowing how to obey orders and charge forward blindly, either killing the enemy or being killed by them.   Octavia was almost breathless from being overwhelmed by this group of physically strong and fearless enemies, but she believed reinforcements would come. She was a chosen one of the God of Light, the banner of the Light faction, the embodiment of victory and glory. Even surrounded, their belief in victory remained unwavering. The three nearest reinforcements were already within twenty miles of Lota City, engaged in battle, a testament to the enemy's strength. While the enemy forces were numerous, powerful units like trolls and giant wolves had been withdrawn, and high-level enemies had mostly retreated to the rear to oversee the battle. Clearly, if they held out for another half a day, at most a day, reinforcements would arrive, defeating the enemy and, with luck, even encircling them.   About two kilometers from the Temple of Light stood a four-story building, formerly the mansion of a nobleman. Now, a large number of people stood on the rooftop facing them. They represented various races: vampires, werewolves, orcs, dragonkin, minotaurs, serpent demons, demons, and even animals like spiders and scorpions. Most were male, with only a few women, and each possessed an imposing aura, all powerful figures from the dark faction. Count Tasi, who was in charge of commanding the battle, was also there. Aside from the reports from several female demons and Tasi's constant orders to deploy more troops , everyone else was thoroughly enjoying the battle before the temple, greedily eyeing the female soldiers and licking their lips.   Watching beautiful and powerful women fight was an ultimate pleasure.   "What delicious meat! This time I want ten, ten blood gems!" A werewolf covered in silver fur bared his fangs, drool dripping from his mouth, as if he hadn't eaten for three days.   "Ah, their blood, so wonderful! Thirty blood essences, and I want ten high-ranking female knights too!" A vampire marquis's face was unusually pale, his long fangs refusing to retract.   "That won't do. There are only 90 high-ranking knights in total. You want ten? Fifteen giant beast tooth totem necklaces , five high-ranking and five mid-ranking!" The orc chieftain, whose hide barely covered his muscles, glared at the vampire marquis with displeasure.   The vampire marquis hesitated, then said awkwardly, "Six then, no less. This time we sent 4,000 vampire warriors to deal with those damned winged people."   The snake demon swung its body, crossing its six arms in three places in front of it, and said arrogantly, "I also want five high-ranking and ten mid-ranking. My concubines are about to lay eggs and need strong mothers to carry them. Two third-grade abyss magic crystals should be enough, right?"   So many people were haggling over the price, like people scrambling for fresh fruits . After breaking through such a powerful knightly order, the spoils and low-ranking prisoners could be distributed according to their contribution , but the mid- and high-ranking women would have to be bought. Everyone was a legendary-level powerhouse, and any creature that could reach this level possessed considerable intelligence; they were no longer the young people who would fight at the slightest provocation.   Everyone seemed unconcerned about the heavy casualties among their subordinates on the battlefield, instead focusing on , creating a very strange atmosphere.   This isn't surprising. Count Tasi sent low-ranking warriors from various races. Protected by the divine realm of the evil god Asmodeus, the races of the evil faction weren't bound by much ethical or moral constraint. Women comprised eight-tenths of the population in the Ravi plane, making childbirth relatively easy; the deaths of many were hardly a loss. Female cultivation was easier than male cultivation, but women who remained low-ranking even at adulthood were essentially trash—slaves, cannon fodder, and breeding machines. They received no pity or appreciation; the more they died, the more resources and space were freed up for newborns to grow .   In the light faction, prisoners were often synonymous with slaves and laborers, especially those from ugly races. Both men and women were forced to do hard labor until death; only succubi and demons could become servants, sex slaves , and prostitutes. In the evil faction, prisoners, besides becoming laborers and sex slaves, were also used as breeding sows for many races—a humiliation most women in the light faction found unacceptable. Of course, those at the mid-level and above have more options: they can become gladiators, fighting in the arena, or serving as targets in training grounds until they die. The lucky ones might become bodyguards for the wealthy or gifts .   In the eyes of these powerful individuals, exchanging a low-level female soldier of 500 for a mid-level enemy prisoner is a very worthwhile deal. Consuming them can increase their strength, they can produce one or two strong offspring, and being sex slaves is also very prestigious.   "Ahem, gentlemen, shouldn't we discuss Octavia?" The battle has lasted for three hours, with over 7,000 dead—two entire legions—and these bigwigs still look like old ladies in a market.












































































After much haggling, Count Tasi finally couldn't help but ask. Logically, a vampire count was only equivalent to a high-level
expert ; compared to the veteran legendary powerhouses around him, he didn't even have the right to speak. However, he
was, after all, a commander, and heavy casualties would damage his reputation. The leaders of those legions didn't care,
but he did care about such meaningless losses.

The group of powerful figures who had been discussing excitedly seemed to freeze, all falling silent and intently
watching the battle, seemingly finding the lowly fights quite exciting.

Octavia's identity was too sensitive. Being the princess of the Potts Kingdom wasn't anything special;
there were dozens of kingdoms, large and small, with at least 300 princesses in total. Legendary strength wasn't anything special either; there were over 1,000 legendary
powerhouses , and the deaths of three or five a year weren't news to them. Only demigods could make
them bow down, and besides, her current strength hadn't put any pressure on them yet. But she was also
a chosen one of
the God of Light, Hyperion , which was quite awkward. Chosen ones possessed a drop of divine power directly bestowed upon them by the gods; consuming her would bring immense benefits, potentially even elevating them to demigod status—a being qualified to rule a continent.

The problem was, they dared not. If it were another god's chosen one, it would be one thing—they were all incredibly delicious, and eating them
wouldn't matter. Everyone had a god to worship, and each god wanted their subjects to be powerful. If
the other party attacked, their god would naturally handle it, and the other party couldn't do anything to them. But Octavia served
the God of Light, one of the three main gods. The difference between a main god and an ordinary god was as vast as the difference between a legendary and a low-ranking god.
Even if they became demigods by eating Octavia, it wouldn't matter; he could crush them with a sneeze.

Hyperion was not a forgiving god; on the contrary, he showed no mercy to enemies of the evil god faction. Those who fell into his hands would
be annihilated, even their souls. Octavia was essentially his adopted daughter; even if she wasn't his biological child
, she still bore his mark. For anyone to "eat" her was to slap him in the face—a blasphemy.
Even unacceptable; it was like taking someone else's cabbage and then demanding their offspring. Such a humiliation
was intolerable even to the renownedly tolerant Earth Mother Gaia.

Letting her go was even more impossible. This war, uniting the high-ranking officials of both factions and creating such a large-scale
conflict, was all to stifle this troublesome and talented young woman. Octavia received Hyperion's favor
because of her unwavering resolve and extreme loyalty to her faith. Her conquests and temple construction were aimed at gaining followers in
the Ravian plane. It's like a boss promoting an ordinary employee to manager
so she can earn more money. If she performs well, making her a shareholder wouldn't be out of the question—
and a shareholder is at least a demigod. Not only competitors, but even former colleagues wouldn't allow her to grow unchecked.

But with her almost their prize, after paying such a high price, releasing her at the last minute
would be a joke. They couldn't afford to lose face like that; it would enrage the evil god Asmodeus, who would unleash divine punishment
before Hyperion even had a chance to act, leading to true annihilation.

This problem remained unresolved, but everyone preferred to send their people to their deaths rather than address it
, which is why Octavia had been able to hold out until now.

After a long silence, Spider suddenly said, "How about selling it to the Black Dragon King Sumersis? 500,000
Florin gold coins—the generous Black Dragon King will surely be willing to buy it."

Everyone's eyes lit up. The Black Dragon King Sumersis, residing in the neutral territory, was a giant among dragons,
capable of withstanding even the wrath of the gods. Moreover, while Sumersis loved gold coins and treasures, he was never stingy with money.
This price would satisfy both sides. However, if the Black Dragon King were involved, many of these mid-to-high-level professionals would likely
have to share. The Black Dragon King never thought he had too many powerful professionals.

Everyone quickly reached a consensus, and Count Tasi then ordered the true experts to begin the attack.

Just ten minutes later, after more than ten days of grueling fighting, the Rose Knights, already exhausted
, were all captured. The mid-level warriors, several times their number, easily took them
all This was a fortune; no one wanted to kill them, as they would only be food for the trolls.

Octavia was in no better shape. Exhausted from the long battle, she was sustained only by
superhuman However, willpower is not the same as fighting spirit. Without the support of fighting spirit, even a demigod is nothing more than
a lamb to the slaughter. A legendary thief knocked her unconscious with a single sneak attack, leaving Octavia no chance to commit suicide.

Thus, a war of annihilation that lasted more than half a month came to an end. The spoils of war left all the participating
leaders beaming with delight; the rapidly expanding Kingdom of Potts had amassed a considerable fortune. After the powerful warriors
left with their main force and spoils, the reinforcements finally broke through the resistance, surrounded the city of Lota from three sides, and recaptured it. They also annihilated
more than 30,000 cannon fodder from the Dark Faction and captured 10,000, achieving a glorious victory. However, Octavia's resolute
and agile figure was nowhere to be seen.

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