The Witch’s Convent

Without needing further instruction, what Hawthorne did next was a natural life instinct he was innately skilled in.

Every muscle in his body was trembling uncontrollably as he threw himself into the frenzied celebration of life, completely overwhelming Heidi's delicate and flawless form from top to bottom, disregarding her angry cries and whimpers, focused only on his relentless thrusting, thrusting again.

However, as the purifying white light completely enveloped the witch, her harsh insults gradually shifted into pleasing moans. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her soft waist began to move voluntarily, matching Hawthorne’s rhythm. Together, they reached the peak of pleasure with his first outburst.

Clinging to the just-melted posture, the two embraced each other and fell into a deep sleep.

While Hawthorne slept, the system continued its work. The milky white light passed between them, slowly returning some of the original soul energy to his body, restoring and strengthening his weakened soul...

In deep slumber, he felt like he was having an incredibly long dream. In the dream, he was born to an ordinary family in the East Harbor District of Liberl Port. His father was a soldier in the Northern Sain Empire’s occupying navy, who chose to stay after retiring and became a city guard. His mother was a native, orphaned by a monster attack, making a living as a laundress.

Both parents were followers of the Goddess of Life and relatively well-off, allowing young Hawthorne to attend school, where he did well academically. Though the family wasn’t wealthy and his parents frequently argued, they managed to get by.

Then the world changed. For various reasons, Liberl Port reduced the size of its guard force, focusing only on the wealthy areas’ safety. His father lost his stable job and income, becoming a freelancer. He grew more irritable and angry, often unreasonable.

During this time, as his mother was pregnant with his sister, she became depressed and fell ill after giving birth, passing away four years later. Her death left his father even more uncontrolled; he began drinking, gambling, and often beat and berated Hawthorne, refusing to continue funding his education.

Young Hawthorne tried scavenging to continue schooling, but the fees were beyond his reach. He eventually had to drop out. When he returned home, he was met with devastating news: his father had sold his young sister to pay off gambling debts...

In fury, he fought with his father, even attempting to kill the old soldier. Failing that, he fled the East Harbor District, though unable to go far due to his lack of resources, he ended up in the poorer, more chaotic South Harbor District, barely surviving as a scavenger, aimless and hopeless.

One day, starving, he heard nuns at a convent were offering porridge to the poor, so he went to ask for some. Unbeknownst to him, it was a trap set by witches to find prey, and that night, Heidi captured him at the convent, using illusions to stir his desires, followed by draining his soul...

How tragic.

After dreaming about the short and painful life of the original Nigel Hawthorne, the sleeping Hawthorne slowly awoke and gently opened his eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

Fate has truly never been fair in its arrangements for everyone, and all I can do is hold tight to the cards I have and live well.

With this thought, he turned his head slightly to look outside the window. It was now evening, and the enormous red sun hung at the edge of the western horizon, striving to bring its last warmth and light to the earth.

By this last light, he could also see the disarray of his bed. Heidi's naked body was entwined with his, her proud, snowy bosom pressed against his chest, with a soft and resilient touch that made his blood surge once more.

His mental and physical condition seemed to be quite good now?

Yes, he felt mentally refreshed, physically energized, feeling better than ever before...

His hand couldn't help but wander over Heidi's body, kneading and enjoying the exquisite sensation. As he caressed her, the sleeping witch furrowed her brows slightly, opening her bewildered eyes, clearly roused by his movement.

But upon seeing him, this girl's gaze immediately filled with endless tenderness, and she opened her delicate mouth, her voice full of affection and attachment: "Master..."

With that, she even proactively extended her arms to embrace him, appearing utterly content.

Hawthorne's movements paused for a moment. He had considered what might happen when this witch awoke, whether she would rage, cry, or be resigned?

He thought any of those were possible, but he never expected Heidi to be like this, showing complete affection and even calling him master?

This...

"...Heidi?" He held the witch's hand, feeling anxious and uneasy, and softly asked, "Do you... not hate me?"

Heidi looked up at him, blinked her azure eyes, and with confusion in her voice, replied, "Hate you? Why would I, Master?"

Hawthorne was a bit tongue-tied, the memory of her anger still vivid: "Because, uh... after all, um, have you not lost your power and freedom now?"

Heidi smiled, then hugged him, rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and softly said, "I haven’t lost my power, Master. And as for freedom, well..."

"I feel very fulfilled and secure now, no longer experiencing that former void, emptiness, and confusion..."

"I have never experienced such genuine happiness before; it’s something I could never have imagined. Today should be remembered forever as the most significant turning point in my fate..."

She murmured softly, expressing her true feelings, and upon hearing this, Hawthorne suddenly realized and couldn’t help but reflect.

So, this is a witch's flaw?

Witches are not normal, complete material world beings. In some sense, they are more like demons from the abyss: they originate from chaotic energy beyond the world and combine with various magical or natural phenomena of the material world to become their current form.

Because of this, they have a terrifying true form and ever-changing magical abilities, yet crave emotions such as happiness, anger, sorrow, and joy that they cannot produce themselves. This is why they delight in manipulating and tormenting humans, eventually draining their souls.

But now, after being purified by him, it seems Heidi's flaw has been filled, and she has even become his most loyal follower?

At this thought, Hawthorne couldn’t contain his excitement. After all, Heidi’s method of draining souls, though extremely evil and cruel, is considered relatively benevolent among witches.

If his Purification ability can reform them, it would indeed be a great achievement for the world.

As he thought about it, he became increasingly excited, then lowered his head, gazing at Heidi's affectionate eyes, her rosy lips, her snow-white and slender body, and her full and upright breasts. He could no longer resist the surging flames of desire within him, and his large hand grasped her once again.

A soft, alluring moan escaped Heidi's throat, but she did not resist. Instead, she raised her snow-white neck like a swan, actively pressing her moist lips to Hawthorne's, yearning for his kiss.

Hawthorne did not hesitate, and he leaned in, kissing her soft and warm lips. He felt her small tongue, scented like cloves, boldly yet shyly emerging, seeking to entwine with his.

"Heidi, are you still in there?"

 Abruptly, a clear and cold female voice sounded from outside, instantly startling the man and woman inside who were on the verge of a passionate moment.

And Hawthorne, who had already regained his memory, instantly recognized the owner of that voice!

The blade witch, Yuta!