Chapter 105

Chapter 105: Chapter 105: Christelle Chapter 105: Christelle Human Domain — The Church of Light Solaris sat in her office, composed, indifferent. But inside? Chaos.

Since coming back, she’d felt it—those eyes, watching her with quiet hatred. Especially in the prayer hall, under the cold, all-seeing gaze of Justicia’s avatar.

And that feeling only grew.

But Solaris ignored it. She knew Justicia couldn’t act. Not yet.

So for now, she was safe.

She let out a deep sigh, leaning her head back, eyes heavy.

"Since I came back, I haven’t stopped working," she muttered, voice low and tired.

The royal family’s secret had to be buried. The decree? Wiped clean. Every person in the church who’d caught even a whisper of it—brainwashed, their memories burned away.

And as Saintess, she could do it. For now.

But she could feel it: Justicia’s blessing was fading. Soon, too soon, she’d lose her power. She wouldn’t be able to keep up the act. Wouldn’t be able to hide.

But—

"I have enough time. Enough to crush this entire church into my palm," she whispered, a dark smile curling her lips, her heart thudding faster.

God, the rush. The thrill. She’d never lived like this before.

This dance with danger—playing her hand against a goddess herself.

She smirked, eyes glinting. "I’m loving every second of it."

Her mind drifted to the Campbells. For now, she’d left them alone.

"Noah said he’ll handle them himself," she murmured, amused. What the hell had they done to deserve his wrath?

Didn’t matter. They were screwed.

Solaris flicked her finger, and a shimmering projection appeared—Christelle, lounging in her room, reading like always. Doing nothing.

Elijah’s mother.

Brown hair, brown eyes—but not dull. Beautiful, deep, earthy. The kind of beauty that made you think of nature itself. She wasn’t tall, but not short either—average height. But her body...

Curves that could make any man lose his mind. Perfect ass. Heavy breasts.

The kind of woman who’d sold her body for money.

That was her life before she met Oliver—and before Elijah happened.

Solaris watched her, eyes cold and detached. Noah hadn’t given her any specifics—just to keep tabs. Make damn sure Elijah never saw her. Never spoke to her.

That was it.

Solaris dismissed the projection and turned back to her paperwork. She had bigger things to focus on.

Like tightening her grip on the church.

Or renewing contact with Empress Emily.

Noah’s influence stretched everywhere.

Interesting.

...

Christelle stared at her book, dead-eyed. Twelfth time reading the same damn thing.

Not because she liked it.

Hell no.

It was the only thing worth reading here. The rest? All about the goddess, power, faith.

Useless bullshit.

Christelle was B-rank. Barely. That rank? A handout from the church—because of Elijah. Her own talent was garbage.

She’d grown up poor, orphaned. All she had going for her was her looks. Her body.

So what did she do? What she had to. Sell herself. Trade flesh for money.

She could’ve fought, maybe. Tried to claw her way up. Gambled for some miracle title from the Akashic Records. Something to elevate her.

Sure. She could have.

But Christelle wasn’t that woman. Never was.

She was a coward. No drive. No ambition. Just survival.

She wanted a good life. Money. That’s it.

And if that meant selling her body?

Fine. So be it.

And she did.

Christelle closed the book and lay back on her massive bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"In the end... I got what I wanted," she whispered, almost to herself. "A good life. Money."

But under all of that—the old hunger still burned. The ache.

She bit her lip, hard.

"I miss it... I miss that feeling."

At first, it was all about the money. But over time? She craved it. The pleasure. The raw, addicting rush.

It had been fifteen years now—since Elijah. Fifteen years of nothing. Fifteen years without feeling something inside her.

"No more," she muttered, voice shaky. "My hands aren’t enough anymore. I need the real thing."

But here? Locked up like this? There was no way.

She was trapped. Food brought to her. Requests granted—but no real contact. No freedom.

She clenched her fists.

"Elijah’s ignoring me. I’ve called him so many times. The Saintess... always too busy."

Her voice tightened with frustration. But there was nothing she could do. No point in complaining.

She shut up, hiked up her dress, and spread her thighs.

Her hand slipped down, fingers finding her wet, eager folds. Her pussy was drenched.

A sharp moan tore out of her throat.

And so began another long, desperate session. Alone. Always alone.

Christelle. A whore, through and through.

But let’s be honest—we love that about her.

...

While Christelle drowned in frustration, others didn’t have to rely on their own hands.

Deep in the forest of the demon continent, Noah and Neko sat face to face. Noah had just finished explaining the story behind her transformation—a clever cocktail of lies and truth.

But Noah? The ultimate trickster. No one saw through him.

"You’re amazing, Noah," Neko said, eyes wide with admiration. Her cat-like tail flicked, full of excitement. "With this, you’re going to be unstoppable."

Noah didn’t respond. He leaned in slowly, stopping just a breath away from her face.

"I don’t know what it is," he murmured, eyes burning, "but seeing you like this... your black flame hair, that tattoo—it’s making me crazy."

Neko’s face turned crimson, her eyes darting everywhere, her brain scrambling to keep up.

"W-What?" she stammered, voice trembling.

Noah smiled, amused, and closed the distance, his lips claiming hers in a deep, slow kiss.

Neko froze—shocked. Her first kiss. And with Noah—the man she loved more than anything.

She melted into him, awkward at first, but Noah was patient. His lips moved against hers, coaxing her, teasing her. His tongue flicked out, testing, tasting, until she gave in completely.

Their tongues met—clumsy at first, but it quickly grew into something more. A dance. Sweet, sensual.

Different from the wild kisses he shared with Dominique—those were all dominance and heat.

This? This was love. Years of quiet, waiting love.

When they finally broke apart, a trail of saliva still connected them. Neko’s eyes were half-lidded, her breath shaky, her body hot and aching.

Her thighs pressed together, desperate for friction. She needed more.

Noah’s shirt was gone now, his toned, muscular body on full display. Broad shoulders, hard abs—perfection.

Neko’s breath hitched. Her legs twitched. She felt wetness pooling between her thighs.

Noah’s smile darkened. "Ready, love?"

Neko hesitated just a second before crawling onto his lap, gasping as she felt him—hard and waiting—press against her ass.

All her shyness crumbled away.

"Yes, my love," she whispered, voice husky. "I want it."

That was all Noah needed.

He pulled her in, his lips capturing hers again—this time, fiercer, hotter, hungrier.

And the night swallowed them whole.

Harem Stealer: Reborn with the God-Tier Sharing System Chapter 104: Noah’s beasts Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!

Chapter 126: New Project [2]

Superpower Mechanic: I Have Unlimited Ammo!

Chapter 218: Dual Volley, Suppressing Orochi!

—End of Chapter 105—