Something’s wrong!

Kroso stared blankly at the girl—her body now utterly devoid of any holy aura. His mind felt like it had frozen solid.

This touch was undeniably real. No dream. But how could the Archangel have changed like this?

Those pink, heart-shaped pupils… Weren’t they exclusive to high-tier succubi?

His thoughts spun wildly. All he wanted was to shove the girl—so close he could feel her breath—away.

Out of reverence for the Archangel, out of the Empire’s tension with The Church… he could never accept harboring impure thoughts toward such a gentle, kind, and sacred girl. Let alone physical contact.

Even if she was the one initiating it in this strange state, he’d never take advantage.

But when Kroso tried to move, his limbs refused to obey.

What? Even if magic recovered slowly during rest, his stamina should’ve returned by now!

“Oops? Sorry~ I just couldn’t help casting a tiny, *very* happy-making spell on you~”

She pinned his wrists down, a domineering, wicked smirk playing on her lips.

That bossy posture sent Kroso’s heart racing. His breathing turned ragged, uncontrollable.

If she was telling the truth… was he truly at her mercy now?

“Ooh! You’re blushing!”

Watching Kroso pant—whether from fury or genuine arousal—her expression grew even more alluring.

“Archangel! Please wake up!”

A familiar scent washed over him. To his horror, she was leaning in… to kiss him?!

Panic seized him. With the last of his strength, he jerked his head sideways and cried out desperately.

“Mmph…!”

Her lips landed on his cheek. Dissatisfied, she pulled back—but with a soft, wet *pop* as they parted.

*Argh… Just kill me now!*

Kroso wanted to vanish. He never imagined being so brazenly teased by a girl—especially *her*, the Archangel he revered like a deity.

Even if it wasn’t her true self… he felt he’d defiled the world’s purest holiness. Guilt and shame crushed him.

He bitterly regretted wasting magic on that teleportation. Without it, he’d have had strength to resist.

“Mmm… I just wanted a lovely, unforgettable night with you… Why so upset?”

She pouted down at his resistance—hurt flickering in her eyes, then irritation.

“But no matter! Let me cast an even *more* wonderful spell~”

Before he could react, her expression shifted again into that eerie, seductive grin.

Watching that familiar face—now so alien—draw closer, Kroso’s blood ran cold with terror.

“Archangel… please, don’t…!”

He begged helplessly. She didn’t stop. Parting her lips, she revealed tiny, cute fangs—and *chomp!*—sank them deep into his neck.

He’d reinforced that spot before… but now, weakened and flustered, his defenses had crumbled.

Was she… *drinking his blood*?

As her fangs pierced his artery, he felt his blood rush out. Then—a strange substance flowed back in. Dizziness hit hard. Darkness swallowed him.

*Ah…!*

*So delicious! So sweet!*

The moment Sylvia tasted his blood, her eyes flew wide. Pink heart-pupils blazing with ravenous delight.

She drank greedily, lost in ecstasy. Her body softened. The pink hearts in her eyes slowly faded… yet she couldn’t stop.

*Saved…?*

With that faint hope, she finally released his neck—wound already clotting—and collapsed onto his shoulder with a contented sigh, fast asleep.

————————

Hours passed. Outside the cave, Holy Light bathed the world. Inside, the two remained motionless.

An undignified scene: the tall, ragged man sprawled on the ground; the pure-white girl sleeping innocently atop his muscular chest, occasionally smacking her lips as if savoring a dream feast.

“Ugh…!”

A pained groan. Kroso stirred awake first.

Sunlight streamed into the cave. Dazed, he jolted upright—searching frantically for Sylvia.

“Archangel… huh?!”

Too worried she’d vanished in last night’s state, he barely noticed the weight rolling off his chest.

He looked down. The Archangel was still there. But her expression… no longer wicked. Just… oddly dopey?

Another strange state?

Shaken from last night’s trauma, Kroso scrambled up to check her.

Fever gone? Pink pupils vanished? And—yes!—that gentle holy aura had returned!

Relief flooded him. A flicker of joy.

But…

Wait.

*That stain.*

A sharp crimson blotch on her pristine white dress, near her lower abdomen.

*No… please no…*

Hands trembling, he lifted the hem just enough. There—on her inner thigh, wrapped in white thigh-highs—more blood.

And cruelly, it smeared directly over the golden cross emblem. A mocking stain on sacred purity.

Kroso’s face drained of color. His legs buckled. He collapsed before her, hollow-eyed, kneeling in despair.

*What unforgivable sin… have I committed?!*

*No… no no no…!*