Chapter 119 Miss Evil Dragon's Initiative
On the throne, the pale vertical pupils suddenly opened.
She was not angry—she merely observed the overconfident human male standing before her.
Upon waking, the evil spirit liquid within her body had surged uncontrollably, seeping through her skin.
At its current concentration, even the Eight-Eyed Great Evil would suffer unbearable agony upon approaching her before perishing in despair.
Her gaze remained indifferent as she calmly waited for the human before her to crumble into ashes.
The sudden movement of the woman on the throne startled Xia Feng, but to his surprise, she neither rejected him nor immediately struck him down.
Instead, she tilted her beautiful face slightly, watching him with those mesmerizing yet authoritative vertical pupils.
…So she was allowing him to drink?
Relief settled in Xia Feng's heart, and his eyes burned with growing intensity.
Hunger and thirst gnawed at his nerves, urging him to lick the evil spirit liquid overflowing from Miss Evil Dragon's lips.
Boldly, he leaned forward.
Despite his desperation, he maintained enough rationality to avoid getting too close.
He inhaled sharply.
Under Miss Evil Dragon's faintly stunned gaze, wisps of gray mist drifted from her crimson lips and seeped into his own.
The frenzied spiritual energy surged through him, and Xia Feng's pupils contracted violently. A soft moan escaped him, his face flushed, lips curling into an uncontrollable grin.
So… so exhilarating!!
"As expected, this human cannot endure such torment."
Di Si lowered her eyes slightly, anticipating the male's imminent death.
Once he perished, perhaps she could return to slumber. A pity—there were still many things she hadn't asked him. How had the outside world developed? Where had he come from? What was his name?
She had countless questions in her heart.
"Ah—ahhh—!"
Xia Feng's shoulders trembled, his neck twitching. The concentration of Miss Evil Dragon's essence now didn't seem as potent as before.
A single breath wasn't enough to satiate him—it only stoked his craving further. His black pupils burned with fanaticism as his hands pressed against the throne's armrests, his body leaning closer.
Di Si's brow furrowed slightly.
The human's face was now alarmingly close, as if he intended to kiss her. Such blasphemy displeased her, and she prepared to strike him away.
Yet just as she raised her hand, she hesitated.
Because she saw him take another sip of the spiritual liquid—another wisp of gray mist escaping her lips and vanishing into his.
"Ngh—!"
The human's eyes burned crimson, his scream one of despair—yet beneath it, she detected unmistakable excitement.
He was enjoying this?
Di Si's cold eyes flickered with confusion.
No—that wasn't the issue.
The true question was: Why wasn't he dead yet?
The male's gaze was feverish, his voice hoarse but brimming with exhilaration:
"Lady Di Si! From this moment onward, I shall bear this evil power—this torment that has plagued you for eternity!"
Di Si's vertical pupils dilated imperceptibly.
After a brief silence, her eyes dimmed slightly. Ignoring his fervent declaration, she asked instead:
"Why are you not dead?"
"Miss Evil Dragon, what a bold question~"
Xia Feng covered his mouth, stepping back as sweat beaded on his forehead. Panting, he extended his palm, revealing a ※-shaped mark.
"Lady Di Si, this Disaster Contract ensures that the evil spirit liquid I absorb flows into it. I am merely a conduit—thus, I remain unharmed."
Di Si had long noticed the Disaster Contract on him. She even sensed traces of the Star God's aura within it, though now faint.
"So your true aim is to absorb my essence and channel it into this contract?"
"Channel energy? No, no—you misunderstand, Lady Di Si. That is merely incidental."
Xia Feng shook his head. His primary goal was to strengthen his mental fortitude and savor the ecstasy the evil spirit liquid brought—all for Miss Evil Dragon's sake.
"Lady Di Si, as your most devoted admirer, my sole purpose has always been to shoulder the agony this evil power brings you. Though, you may not comprehend that this 'torment' brings me immense joy! Thus, I beg you—do not doubt my sincerity!"
His gaze burned with honesty, like a pilgrim beholding his deity. Xia Feng never lied.
"…"
Di Si pressed her lips together, silent.
Beneath her starry skirt, her pale dragon tail twitched rapidly before she forcibly stilled it, the nimble tip retreating back beneath the fabric along her smooth calf.
…Could it be true?
This human's devotion—so genuine, so reverent—was unlike anything she had witnessed since her birth.
Though the humans of ten thousand years ago had worshiped and prayed to her daily, she knew they secretly called her "Evil Dragon," "Demon Dragon," a dark force destined to bring ruin upon the world.
But this human before her was different.
He claimed not to be a believer—yet how did his actions differ from true devotion?
Her tone softened slightly, as one might speak to a genuine follower.
"I understand, human. You are indeed capable of enduring pain for me."
"But no matter your resolve, you will break—after one, two, or several attempts. Your willpower will shatter eventually. There is no need—"
"Lady Di Si!"
His sharp interruption silenced her.
The human male straightened slightly, his dark pupils gazing down at her with unsettling calm.
For a moment, the two simply stared.
Di Si felt an inexplicable defiance from this stubborn believer.
She knew: for fanatics like him, only true suffering could force retreat.
"Very well, human. Then let me show you real despair."
Her pupils chilled as slender fingers seized Xia Feng's chin, yanking him closer.
Since her sealing, her body had endured ceaseless agony—tearing, burning, as if venomous snakes gnawed at every cell, every nerve. Needles stabbed her mind, thousands, millions, an eternal hell.
This was no torment mortals could withstand.
Xia Feng's pupils dilated as her sacred, beautiful face neared.
Gray mist surged into his mouth and nose—no longer drawn by him, but forced upon him by Miss Evil Dragon's will.
Ah… this was her first active offering.
And Xia Feng reveled in it.
The evil spirit liquid flowed into his heart, mending its wounds, nourishing his soul.
Under the second-tier magic [Evil Spirit Touch], his mental power surged.
[Current Mental Power: 29 Soc]
[+1 Soc]
[+2 Soc]
[+5 Soc]
[...]
[Current Mental Power: 40 Soc]
Stabilized at 40 points—Xia Feng was awed. A single spirit fruit granted at most +3.
He'd gained 11.
Though daily absorption had limits, regular visits would elevate him beyond second-tier spiritualists. Given time, his psyche would reach unimaginable heights!
Yet as Miss Evil Dragon's gift continued, fullness tipped into ache.
He channeled the excess into the Disaster Contract, its runes flickering as the princess's trembling whimpers echoed.
(End of Chapter)