Volume 5 Chapter 10 The Elder’s Flesh-Calyx and the Silver-Haired Rejuvenation*
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Even as night pulled its veil over the forest, the heat within the manor at the base of the World Tree remained unyielding. If anything, as time crawled forward, the space grew heavier—thick with the scent of musk, the symphony of sweet gasps, and the relentless sound of wet, rhythmic contact.
It was the first celebration in the Elf village in centuries. In truth, it was little more than a massive, race-defining seeding ritual conducted by a single male: the Spirit King.
Beauty after beauty was sent to my chamber. Some were married women trembling at the thrill of a sanctioned betrayal; others were virgins frightened by their first encounter; and some were widows, long since parched by their solitude. All of them knelt before me with tragic resolve. But by the time I touched their skin and drove in a wedge of mana-dense vitality, their reason had invariably scattered like ash in the wind.
The sheer overwhelming pleasure, the soul-shaking satisfaction of pure mana—they would cling to my hips, tears of gratitude streaming down their faces, eyes rolled back as they spasmed into blissful, fainting release. I performed the task with a detached, rhythmic efficiency, like drawing water into a dry, cracked field.
”Whew. That makes thirty,” I muttered, wiping away sweat while watching the bare form shudder before me.
I have no limit to my stamina. Physical fatigue is easily canceled by healing magic. Yet, the air in this room—thick with the scent of females, a unique, pungent mix of s**men and love fluids—numbed my nose and drew my thoughts closer to those of a beast. It wasn’t a bad feeling. The shackles of ethics had fallen away, and I was functioning purely as a mechanism for sowing seed. This, perhaps, was the ultimate state of existence as a biological entity.
”Time to air out the room a bit.”
As I spoke to myself, a shadow that had been quietly watching from the corner moved without a sound.
”Splendid work, Spirit King,” the shadow whispered, stepping into the dim light. “To take on so many without even a ragged breath… the tales in our village calling you the incarnation of the sun seem to be more than just metaphor.”
Emerging from the gloom was Erland, the Elder and master of this village.
She moved toward the moonlight-drenched window with the grace of a predator cornering its prey. She wore nothing but a luxurious, deep purple robe, which parted to reveal skin as smooth as white porcelain and the generous, swelling curves of her body.
”Erland? I didn’t expect the overseer to be the last one left,” I said.
”Fufu, ‘overseer’ sounds so cold,” Erland replied, her tone dripping with an elegant, aristocratic chill1. “I was merely watching, my dear. Observing the young ones as they received the King’s favor, their faces melting into those of simple women, one after another.”
Erland adjusted her intelligent, silver-rimmed glasses with her middle finger, offering a seductive smile. Deep within her eyes, the cool, observant gaze of an Elder flickered with an uncontainable, clinging flame of lust. It was a look of a female in heat—something she had never shown in our formal meetings. I see. She, too, had been intoxicated by this depraved space, unable to suppress her own throbbing needs.
”So? Did it meet your standards?” I asked.
”Oh, most certainly,” Erland answered. “But surely, you haven’t forgotten? There is one fruit left, fully ripened and waiting to conclude the feast.”
With that, she flicked the cord of her robe with a fingertip. The fabric slipped away, collapsing to the floor without a sound.
What stood before me was a work of carnal art—violently beautiful, possessing a maturity that no young girl could ever hope to replicate, despite her three hundred and twenty years.
Her long, silver hair waved, catching the candlelight and shimmering as it draped over her abundant form. Most striking, however, was her sheer mass. Her breasts, heavy and ripe like fruit at the peak of harvest, hung low with the gravity of their own weight, bouncing with a heavy thud, thud that hammered visual pleasure into my brain. The wide hips flowing from her slender waist and her thick, fleshy thighs created a provocative, classically maternal silhouette.
”Incredible,” I breathed. “I knew it beneath the clothes, but seeing you bare… it’s devastating.”
”My, how terribly uncouth of you to notice,” Erland said, a playful lilt to her aristocratic voice. “I lack the perky, skyward firmness of a young girl, but… I can promise you a bottomless, clinging embrace that you’ll never want to leave.”
Erland supported her own breasts from beneath, swaying them deliberately. Every gesture was steeped in the potent, concentrated allure of three centuries. (Mature woman.) The very word held a mana that could spoil and corrupt a man.
”You’ve clearly enjoyed yourself with the others, but… do you still have the strength to indulge this old woman’s selfishness?” she teased.
”Ha. I’ve got more than enough left to satisfy you,” I replied. “If anything, the main event starts now.”
”How reliable,” she whispered. “Then, I shall let myself feast without restraint.”
Erland pushed me back onto the bed and climbed on top. (Cowgirl style.) Her opulent breasts loomed before my eyes, heavy with weight. Her n**ples were already hard, erect with excitement, flushed a deep, rose-pink.
Squelch.
She guided my hardness with her own hand, slowly swallowing me into her ripe, hidden depths. As my wedge sank into her abyss, accompanied by the lewd, wet sound of rubbing membranes, I gasped.
Tight. But not like the narrow, shallow tightness of a virgin. Her v**inal muscles writhed like a living creature, clenching, twisting, and pulling at my length from the very root. A legendary vessel, truly worthy of the name. Had three hundred years of experience carved itself into these walls of flesh?
”Ngh…! This is…!” I grunted.
”What is it?” Erland murmured, smiling with composure as her hips undulated. “Do you like what you feel inside me?”
Her movements were utterly refined. She knew exactly how to rub against my sensitive spots, when to loosen, and when to clamp down. She knew the map of pleasure perfectly.
”You’re incredible… the experience level is just different from the youngsters,” I admitted. “I can’t tell if I’m the one attacking or if I’m the one being taken.”
”Oh, for a Spirit King to be so faint of heart,” she chuckled. “Shall I show you a secret art as a reward? It is the wisdom of one who has lived a long time.”
A strange light glimmered behind Erland’s glasses as she placed both hands on my chest. The moment she chanted a complex, ancient incantation:
Thump!
A shock of pleasure, like intense electricity, surged from our point of union straight through to my brain. It wasn’t just physical—it was a primordial pleasure, as if my very soul were being stroked.
”Wh-what is this…!? Is the mana… backflowing?” I cried out.
”‘Spirit Resonance’… a secret art that forcibly links our internal mana circuits to circulate and amplify our spirit power,” Erland explained through ragged, heated breaths.
Usually, mana transfer is one-way. But she was taking my mana, amplifying it within her own body, and pouring it back into me. It was an energy-loop circuit using our living bodies. Every time the circulation accelerated, our sensitivity spiked exponentially, bringing a climax that felt like it would burn out our nerves. A perpetual motion machine of pleasure, ignoring the laws of energy conservation.
”Ah, marvelous…!” Erland moaned, the composure of the Elder peeling away from her expression. “I have never felt this much spirit power in my three hundred years…! My body, every single cell, is crying out in joy…! Ah, it’s hot, so hot! My brain… it’s melting…!”
Her glasses fogged with sweat, and her silver hair clung to her skin. The mask of the intellectual leader was gone; in her place was a female, driven by nothing but the need for seed.
”Ah, ahhh! It’s amazing, all the way to the back… Ngyah! My King, my King…! Deeper, deeper still! Fill me completely with yourself…!”
Her heavy breasts heaved violently, and the sound of sweat-slicked skin colliding echoed through the room. Yet, just before the climax, she suddenly stopped moving.
”Haa… haa… Spirit King… I have a request,” she whispered.
”What is it? Don’t tease me. Let me finish,” I growled.
When I tried to thrust my hips, she stopped me, her eyes trembling with sadness. For a fleeting second, I saw a deep, feminine despair flicker in them.
”…My withered uterus can no longer conceive a new life,” she said, her voice dropping. “No matter how much of your seed is poured into me, I can no longer fulfill the role of making it bloom like the young girls can…”
Perhaps this was the agony of one who had wished for the prosperity of her race more than anyone. The cruel passage of three hundred and twenty years had robbed her of her function as a mother. But, the next moment, her expression twisted into something sticky, decadent, and filled with depravity.
”So… please,” she purred. “Use a different place. Let me take in everything you have. Even if I cannot be a mother… I can still serve as a vessel to process your lust.”
”A different place? A vessel?” I asked.
”…Right here,” she answered.
Erland climbed off me, flipped over, and went down on all fours. She thrust her lush hips before my eyes, spreading her own tight, bud-like anus with her fingers.
”Here… it will never wither, and I can clamp down on you forever.”
It was cleaned to a shocking shade of pink, and it contracted with a rhythmic pulse, begging for something to fill it. It had clearly been trained. Behind her dignified behavior as an Elder, had she been secretly comforting herself with this hole? The realization sent my own sadistic urges boiling to the surface.
”Please, let this be my new uterus… drive your hot wedge into me!” Erland begged, her voice thick with abandon. “I want to receive your noble seed in such a filthy place…! I’ll throw away my dignity as an Elder along with my excrement!”
”…Heh. For an Elder, you certainly have some lewd things to say,” I chuckled.
A three-hundred-and-twenty-year-old sage, who ruled over a village, was presenting her rear end, begging to be filled with that intellectual face behind her glasses. The twisted, depraved sensation was intoxicating. She wanted to fall below the level of a common female. Discarding a dysfunctional uterus to offer a hole purely for pleasure. It was a declaration of defeat as a biological entity, and a declaration of victory as a sexual slave.
”Fine. I’ll clear that intellectual head of yours until it’s completely blank! Prepare yourself—I’m going to pierce your dignity right along with you!” I roared.
I drove my saliva-slicked hardness against her anus and sank my hips in a single motion.
”Gah…! Aaaaaaaahhh!!” Erland screamed, clawing at the sheets.
It was tight. A vice-like grip. Unlike the front, the back wasn’t used to foreign objects. But the sensation of flesh walls being forced open stimulated my desire for conquest to the absolute limit.
”Ahh, it’s inside…! The Spirit King’s hard thing is prying open this filthy hole used only for waste…! There, right there, that’s no good…! My dignity as an Elder is breaking…!”
”Dignity? Throw that away,” I commanded. “Right now, you’re just a female!”
”Yes…! I am just a bitch! More, deeper…! I don’t need logic or reason… I just want your seed…!”
I drove my hips without mercy. The sound of wet impact—slap, slap—echoed. Her glasses slid off, and her silver hair clung to her sweat-soaked skin. Erland drooled, her eyes rolled back, and she went into a frenzy.
The ‘Spirit Resonance’ coursing through her body amplified the stimulation from her anus to the limit, burning out her brain. Every time I scraped the sensitive point along her intestinal wall, runaway mana erupted from her body, shaking the air in the room.
”Ah, ah, I’m coming! I’m coming with my ass…! I’m going crazy…! Spirit King…! Let it out…! In my filthy self, let it all out…!”
”As you wish! Receive all of me in that dirty hole!”
”Give it to me…! All of it, the heat…!!”
I poured every ounce of seed into the deepest part of her intestine. I hammered a mass of mana and life force into her unclean hollow.
Thump, thump!!
”Ngyaaaaaaahhh!!”
Erland shrieked, her entire body arching like a bow as she convulsed. At that moment, a pale green light exploded from her body. The culmination of ‘Spirit Resonance.’ My seed, containing high concentrations of mana factors, was absorbed directly through the rectum, forcibly restructuring her withered mana circuits. The torrent of mana revitalized her cells, bringing a fresh, youthful firmness back to her skin, purifying three hundred years of stagnation. She was literally rejuvenated and reborn through my seed. It was a scene both divine and deeply depraved.
By the time the feast ended, the eastern sky was beginning to pale. Around me, beautiful Elf women slept, piled upon one another in exhaustion. The room was filled with the heat of life and the scent of semen—a stark contrast to the silence of the silver forest.
Elder Erland, too, remained in a state of ecstatic collapse, white liquid still trailing from her rear. Her glasses were blown somewhere, and her tangled silver hair obscured her face, but her sleeping expression was peaceful, like a young girl finally freed from a heavy burden. The mana injected into her anal cavity had restored her prime. She would now, in both name and reality, offer her wisdom and body as my loyal bitch.
”Whew. Maybe I overdid it a bit,” I sighed.
As I caught my breath at the edge of the bed, a shadow crept toward my feet without a sound. It was my aide, Sylvia. She had been by my side all night as a guard and an outlet for my desires, yet her blue eyes were still glowing brightly.
She pressed her face against my crotch and looked at the still-warm part of me with adoration.
”Splendid work, King,” Sylvia whispered, her tone deferential and submissive. “Allow me to cleanse the lingering scent of the others.”
Saying this, she ran her crimson tongue over me. The intestinal fluid from Erland, the mixed fluids of the other women, the faintly lingering, depraved scent of the anus—she drank it all down into the back of her throat as if it were a feast, treating what should have been discarded waste as something sacred.
Slurp, slurp… pop, gulp.
The lewd sounds echoed through the room. The devotion of the strongest knight, performing this throat-deep service to take my filth upon herself. To her, everything that came from me was a holy nourishment. Relishing the comfort of that absolute loyalty and dominance, I drifted into a deep sleep.
But this was only the beginning. The long night to heal three hundred years of thirst in the Elf village had only just started.
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Summary:
The Spirit King continues his seeding ritual in the Elf village, eventually engaging in a high-intensity coupling with the Elder, Erland. After a mystical ‘Spirit Resonance’ rejuvenates her body, she fully submits as his loyal consort. The chapter concludes with the King’s aide, Sylvia, cleaning the remnants of the night’s activities from him.
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Trivia:
The Spirit King possesses no physical limit due to healing magic.
Erland is 320 years old and had a withered uterus.
The ‘Spirit Resonance’ ritual forces a mutual mana circulation loop that amplifies pleasure.
Sylvia acts as both a guard and a willing recipient of the King’s waste.
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Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Spirit King – The male protagonist who acts as the sole source of mana for the Elf village ritual. He possesses limitless stamina and approaches his duties with detached efficiency.
• Erland – An intellectual, silver-haired elven village Elder and master who wears silver-rimmed glasses. At 320 years old, she initially observes the new Spirit King’s ritual with analytical detachment before revealing her own deep, emotional devotion and desires. As a pious leader, she maintains a deeply respectful relationship with the new deity while holding high status among her people.
• Sylvia – Sylvia, a voluptuous, platinum-golden haired elf adventurer with bright blue eyes, is “Crimson Lotus,” a Silver-rank warrior. Serving the Spirit King as a fanatical, devoted aide and guard, she stands by his side, observing room activities with total loyalty. Wielding a longsword and bow, she travels as Ryu’s servant, tutors John, protects Nier, and reverently guides the essence-giving protagonist.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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