Inside the narrow carriage, the pink lighting created an intoxicating atmosphere, steeped in ambiguous allure.

The maiden straddled Moen's lap, gently twisting her waist with serpentine grace. Her delicate, well-shaped flesh brushed against some of Moen's sensitive spots, filling the air with an enchanting fragrance that unsettled his mind. Meanwhile, the pale skin faintly exposed beneath her slightly disheveled clothing constantly stirred his nerves.

This should have been a perfect moment, the kind that would leave any man parched and gasping, heart racing, and consumed with passion—an irresistible scene where one might gladly leap into the sea of desire.

However, Moen felt no excitement at all. Instead, the ominous hum of impending death circled in his brain, warning him of the grim fate awaiting him—the possibility of being drained dry in the most harrowing way.

After all, he had barely disentangled himself from another little seductress just hours ago. Moen was still firmly entrenched in the aftermath of "Sage Mode".

True exhaustion: not a single drop left.

"Um... Ann, this doesn't seem like the right time. Why don't we pick this up another day?"

Moen struggled to fend off Ann's caresses and kisses while proposing this with some difficulty.

"Why?"

An gasped softly, her breath warm.

"Does the young master not enjoy this? Or is it not stimulating enough?"

"No, no, it's stimulating—very stimulating, definitely! And I like it, too!"

Moen nodded fervently, but soon added bitterly:

"But despite appearances, I'm quite injured right now. My magic and combat energy were completely drained during our earlier fight, and my physical strength is nearly depleted. It's really not the right time for something like this!"

"Oh, really?"

Ann finally paused, wrapping her arms around Moen's neck and gazing at him with a meaningful look.

"So, the young master isn't up for it right now—are these truly the reasons?"

"Absolutely, absolutely! Why would I lie to you, Ann?"

Moen nodded eagerly, his eyes pure and earnest as a child’s.

"I see..."

An sighed in disappointment.

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"Ah..."

Seeing Ann reluctantly climb off him, Moen released a heavy breath. It seemed his life had been spared.

Dealing with both the senior and Ann at once—now that was truly overwhelming.

It wasn’t that Moen was incapable; he considered himself quite proficient in this aspect. Every girl he'd been with had effortlessly been sent into "heavenly bliss."

But these girls—these girls weren’t ordinary by any stretch!

And as he had just explained, Moen's current physical state was deeply depleted. He had fought a banshee, faced the oppressive aura of the dark god, and sustained internal injuries that weren’t easily recovered.

Otherwise, he'd undoubtedly teach this mischievous, seductive maid a proper lesson!

Moen resolved that once he recovered, he’d dedicate himself to training—not just to master combat skills, but to ensure he had an unbreakable, inexhaustible vitality!

"Apologies, Ann. I’ll make it up to you in the future."

Moen offered his apology sincerely.

Because of the senior, he couldn't do "that" with Ann—there was just a lingering sense of guilt gnawing at him.

"Hmm? Why is the young master apologizing? And why talk about making up for it later? Why not now?"

Ann tilted her head quizzically.

"Because..."

Moen began to explain, but then froze.

Now?

What did that mean?

Still puzzled, Moen suddenly saw Ann's trademark smile appear on her face. From nowhere, she pulled out an insulated container.

As the container was opened, steam wafted forth, filling the carriage with an odd aroma.

"This... This is..."

Moen’s voice quavered as he glanced at the blackish liquid inside the container, which seemed disturbingly familiar.

"Knowing the young master’s tendencies, I anticipated this might happen, so I've prepared ahead,"

Ann gently explained as she poured the liquid into a small bowl. Her tone was tender—reminiscent of a wife nursing her drunken husband.

But the meaning behind her words struck Moen with chilling clarity. Memories he’d buried long ago surged forth, assaulting his mind.

"Happy, young master? This is the specially concocted 'Tenfold Strengthening Soup' I brewed just for you. And this time, I’ve prepared a stronger version—even the rare dragon penis was found through the Duke’s estate."

Tenfold Strengthening Soup!

It was that infamous brew!

Moen’s eyes widened as he whipped his head to the side.

"I won’t drink it!"

"Young master, you’re still the same—always saying one thing while feeling another. You drank it so eagerly last time,"

Ann said, feigning innocence.

"That time, you forced me—didn’t you?!"

"Did I?"

Ann rubbed her chin thoughtfully, sighing:

"But now I can’t bear to force you anymore. I’ll just have to resort to… special means."

"Special means?"

Moen exclaimed in alarm.

"What kind of special means?"

"Sure enough, to personally administer the stubborn young master his medicine."

Ann licked her bright red lips, the blush on her delicate face deepening even further.

She leaned down, sipped a mouthful of the strengthening soup, then mumbled:

"Come on, young master—time for your medicine."

…

…

During what proved to be an extremely intimate medicating process, Moen lay on the sofa with an expression of complete resignation, digesting the effects of the tonic.

Ann’s enhanced “Tenfold Strengthening Soup” wasn’t just regular nourishment; the energy it contained was astonishing.

Once consumed, Moen’s previously drained reserves of magic and combat energy quickly replenished. Even the fiery power of the King of Wither rekindled, helping to repair his internal injuries with an efficacy that surpassed all magical remedies.

Within minutes, the pallor on Moen's face faded, replaced by a healthy, ruddy complexion—especially his lips, which turned lush and vibrant.

But Moen couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just lost something dear.

"Seems like it's working well."

After finishing the administration, Ann observed him closely and smiled, clearly pleased.

Then, without hesitation, she climbed back onto Moen's lap, swaying her hips tantalizingly.

"Shall we continue, young master?"

Moen cast her a deadpan stare, choosing silence as his response.

Although his strength had recovered considerably, “Sage Mode” was still “Sage Mode”—at this moment, Moen’s inner world felt utterly vacant. Even after enduring the intense encounter earlier, he now had no trace of evil thoughts, rendering him invulnerable.

"You can try, but it won’t work,"

Moen thought smugly.

"Ah, what a pity. Ever since then, I swore I wouldn’t drug the young master anymore—otherwise, this would have been much easier now,"

Ann lamented.

"In that case, I have no alternative; I’ll use my own methods."

She began undoing Moen’s clothing, her delicate tongue tracing circles on his chest.

Moen scoffed inwardly, filled with disdain.

“As if that’s going to work on me. I'm not who I used to be. Such trivial stimulation…”

But before he could finish being smug, he saw Ann gradually lowering herself. Lower. And lower.

Until...

In those moments, as Moen's eyes shot wide open, nearly bulging out of their sockets, Ann’s delicate face descended—and her red lips parted slightly…

“Gasp—!” Moen sucked in a sharp breath, almost shivering so hard he caused global warming to worsen.

The sight of Ann's prim, elegant face combined with the meticulously disciplined act she was now performing brought a severe jolt to Moen's already stretched nerves.

In an instant, his “Sage Mode” shattered.

"Mm..."

Ann paused briefly, lifting her gaze to him and playfully pouting.

"Young master, you’re so naughty… It’s so big… I can’t fit it all..."