Chapter 156: Demonic Erosion

For Cotton, this was a torture far more cruel than death.

Although he had already experienced the agony of his physical body being torn apart alive, that was merely a physical torment. Painful though it was, he had ultimately endured it. Though he did not know what manner of entity he had become, Cotton still retained his own will. His sole objective now was to persevere, even though Cotton himself had no idea what he was persevering for, nor could he comprehend why Jean had chosen to spare his soul. Yet now, he finally understood why Jean had done so, and everything he laid his eyes upon at this moment constituted the ultimate torment for him.

His wife, the woman he loved most, was slowly degenerating. She was not even forced; rather, she had willingly thrown herself into the other man's arms. The mere sight of this drove Cotton to the brink of madness; he longed to shatter this barrier of the soul and slay that detestable demon. Yet he was utterly powerless to do anything. The only thing he could do was remain imprisoned within this cage of the soul, listening to his wife’s gasps, gazing at her bewildered and pleading expression, followed by a smile of thoroughly satisfied bliss. Cotton felt as though his heart were shattering into pieces.

The young maiden who once clung to him like a dependent fledgling, who always gazed at him with a quiet smile, and who had sworn to love him for a lifetime at their sacred wedding ceremony, had now completely transformed into a beast that craved only carnal pleasure. Whenever Cotton saw her by Jean's side, fulfilling his every demand, he felt as though his heart were breaking anew. If he could, Cotton would gladly choose to die—yet the crux of the matter was that he was already dead. This realization brought home the agonizing pain that pierced deep into his very bones. He roared and screamed in frantic madness, but none of it mattered; he could neither change what was unfolding nor alter the impending outcome.

Even so, Cotton continued to comfort himself with the thought that Ligeia was merely temporarily confused. Everyone has moments of impulse. When she woke up tomorrow, she would realize she had done wrong. At that time, she would return to her former self. But very soon, Cotton discovered that he had guessed wrong once more.

Ligeia had opened Pandora's box with her own hands, and thus there was no longer any possibility of closing it.

Ever since that night, she had remained by Jean's side, gratifying his desires and demands at any time and in any place. As for Cotton, he could only watch helplessly as his wife gradually degenerated, losing her true nature under the demon's seduction and turning into a thoroughly beastly creature loyal entirely to her carnal instincts. The woman he had once loved had completely vanished, making those memories of sacred, beautiful, and pure times appear all the more ironic and agonizing in the face of the ugliness before him.

Cotton still remembered how, in order to win Ligeia's favor, he had ventured to the shores of the Silver Moon Lake in the dead of night to pluck those moon-flowers that only blossomed under the midnight moonlight. He had then delivered them to Ligeia's window at the crack of dawn, and the sweet, fulfilled smile the young maiden had worn at the sight of the bouquet was a sight he would never forget for the rest of his life. And now, Cotton saw that exact same smile upon Ligeia's face once more, but the difference was that she was now lying in bed, uttering low, satisfied moans. Her smile was so sweet, carrying a joy that welled up from the deepest recesses of her heart. Yet this only plunged Cotton into even greater agony. Under this intense stimulation, Cotton even felt his mind beginning to grow somewhat numb; all other emotions seemed to be gradually fading away from him, leaving only rage—anger alone remained deep within his heart like a fire burning ever brighter, nearly melting his entire being within its flames.

However, Jean clearly cared nothing for Cotton's mental state.

"Mr. Jean, have you seen the mistress?"

Molly's voice rang in Jean's ear. He set down the steaming cup of tea in his hand and looked ahead. There, at the entrance of the reception room, the little maid was standing and gazing at him with curiosity.

"No, I haven't seen Mrs. Blake. Is something the matter?"

"Ah, no, nothing major. It's just that we can't find the mistress anywhere, so we're a bit worried."

Noticing Jean's gaze, the little maid lowered her head with a faint blush, speaking with a hint of nervousness. Seeing Molly's reaction, Jean smiled slightly.

"There's no need to worry. I imagine she will be back before long."

"That's good... Ah, excuse me, Mr. Jean, I still need to tend to the garden..."

With those words, Molly bowed respectfully to Jean, then turned and left with flushed cheeks. It was only after Molly had departed that Jean lowered his gaze, looking between his own legs—there, Ligeia was currently hiding beneath the dining table, watching him with eager and passionate eyes.

"Mrs. Blake, isn't it about time you came out? Otherwise, your little maids are going to get worried."

"Please wait just a little longer, Master, just a little bit more... Besides... Master, won't you please call me by my name?"

"Of course, no problem."

Hearing this, Jean revealed a trace of a smile, then reached out to gently stroke Ligeia's hair.

"Ligeia..."

"Master..."

Hearing Jean call her name, Ligeia appeared even more excited. A bright, crimson glow shone in her eyes, and seeing this, Jean could not help nodding to himself inwardly.

It seemed that everything was proceeding very smoothly.

What Jean had done to Ligeia was not turning her into his demonic thrall, but rather demonic transformation—the process of converting her from a human into a demon. This was Jean's core research subject; he hoped to turn demon conversions, which previously only occurred occasionally through sheer "luck," into a mass-producible reality, thereby granting him an endless and inexhaustible supply of subordinates and military forces. However, this process itself was by no means easy. Most importantly, Jean did not wish to achieve success through the shortcut of merely creating demonic thralls. After all, only a tiny fraction of individuals could become a Demon King's thrall, and even if Jean turned himself into a tentacle monster, he could not satisfy such a massive scale of demonic transformation. Therefore, he needed to find a viable and effective path to accomplish this all. And Ligeia was his second test subject.

Originally, Jean's initial choice had been Iris, and through a series of actions involving mental brainwashing, he had already achieved sufficient progress. All that remained was to directly etch the unique demonic insignia into her body—or so Jean had planned.

However, Maya's subsequent failure at this step led Jean to realize that etching demonic insignias via true names was a highly dangerous endeavor, and their minds warped far faster than their physical bodies, which would generate numerous variables. In the end, Jean had no choice but to sacrifice Maya to prevent her from becoming a burden. It was precisely for this reason that Jean temporarily abandoned experimenting on Iris, shifting his target to humans instead. This was also the primary reason he valued Ligeia. After all, Jean's primary battlefield and enemies in the future would be humans, so the data obtained from experimenting on a human foundation was obviously of much greater practical significance. After all, humans were his primary enemy and his most crucial target. As a human—and a completely unremarkable one who perfectly fit the "commonplace" template—Ligeia was naturally the most suitable test subject. Much like how any psychological experiment requires gathering a large group of normal people to establish a baseline rather than visiting a mental asylum to validate theories with madmen.

Ligeia's performance also left Jean immensely satisfied. Under his seduction, Ligeia's fall from grace and her sense of guilt intertwined, enabling her to readily accept and assimilate the demonic insignia. Afterward, under the dual guidance of the demonic insignia and her own guilt, Ligeia began in self-abandonment to choose the pursuit of pleasure, which further accelerated her fusion with demonic power. Based on Jean's observations over these past few days, the current Ligeia was virtually indistinguishable from those entities that entered the Demon Realm and became infected and eroded by demonic energy. The power of demonhood had fused through the insignia alongside her self-corrupted mental will, rapidly spreading across her entire body.

Now, only the final step remained to determine whether his experiment was a success or a failure.

"Ligeia."

With these thoughts, Jean pulled back his straying focus and spoke. Hearing his call, Ligeia immediately raised her head, gazing at the master before her with expectant eyes like a loyal little puppy. If she had initially felt some hesitation regarding Jean's actions, then after going through these days of "tempering," Ligeia harbored no doubts whatsoever deep within her heart. In her view, this was precisely her desire. She had betrayed everything she once held dear, yet she had gained so much more. That intoxicating joy and the sweet, blissful dreams had completely captivated her, leaving her unable to extricate herself. Under such circumstances, Ligeia cared only about obtaining more pleasure; how could she possibly care why Jean, who had previously always treated her with utmost courtesy, had turned into his current self?

"Tonight, come to my room. There is an important matter to attend to."

Hearing Jean's words, Ligeia's eyes grew even brighter, and she nodded with almost zero hesitation.

"Very well... Master."

Following that, Ligeia spoke.

Night fell.

With the arrival of yet another evening, the Blake residence once more sank into a peaceful and serene tranquility. The two maidservants had already gone to bed to rest, while Ligeia, dressed in a thin nightgown and carrying a lantern, quietly made her way to the door of the guest room. At this moment, her face was flushed and her eyes shone brightly. Although she still did not know what Jean intended for her to do, Ligeia was already instinctively yearning for the descent of pleasure.

At this thought, she could not help taking a breath, holding her fiercely pounding heart. Then, Ligeia reached out and gently knocked on Jean's door.

"Master... I have arrived."

"Come in."

Hearing Jean's voice, Ligeia hastily pushed the door open with breathless eagerness and stepped into the room. Gazing at the man before her, she wore a blissful smile. Facing Ligeia, Jean also extended both his hands.

The next moment, Ligeia threw herself directly into Jean's arms, crying out with a satisfied gasp as she tightly embraced the man before her, closing her eyes to experience over and over again the energy that brought her such supreme happiness. Soon enough, Ligeia once again felt that powerful surge of energy; just one more moment, just one more moment, and she would once again attain an unimaginable sweetness—

"Eh?"

Yet right at that moment, Jean suddenly halted his movements. Ligeia opened her eyes in startled confusion, only to find Jean looking down at her with a trace of a strange, eerie smile.

"Oh, that's right, Ligeia. I almost forgot; today I happen to have invited a special guest."

"A guest?"

Muttering to herself, Ligeia turned her head to look in the direction Jean was indicating.

Then, a figure she could never be more familiar with appeared before her eyes. It was the figure she had yearned for day and night, the one Ligeia had countless times woken up in the night desperately hoping to see. Yet now, she never imagined that her wish would be fulfilled at this time, in this place, and in such a manner.

The instant she saw that figure, Ligeia felt her entire body tense up rigidly.

"Cotton..."