An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

The moment the divine energy brushed against her, the reaction was immediate.

"Agh!" she gasped, her body instinctively recoiling, but there was no escape. The golden light crackled in the air, pressing against her as if it had a will of its own.

Her skin sizzled upon contact, faint wisps of dark energy escaping her form as the divine mana gnawed at her very essence. Her tiny stature shrank further as more and more demonic mana withered away, her body trembling violently.

A sharp, guttural cry escaped her lips as she clutched her arms, trying in vain to resist the torment. This was not the kind of pain she felt when Sol struck her—it was far worse. This was an agony that burned through her very soul, gnawing at her existence itself. The mere presence of divine energy was unbearable for any demonic being, let alone direct contact.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto all fours, gasping for breath. Her horns, once sharp and imposing, had dulled slightly, and her once-intimidating presence had diminished to that of a struggling ember on the verge of being snuffed out.

Arthur watched her struggle, his expression unreadable. He hadn't even used much power yet, but it was already more than enough to break her composure.

"Still think there's nothing worse that can happen to you?" Arthur's voice was calm, yet there was a cold edge to it.

The girl grit her teeth, glaring up at him, but her body betrayed her. She trembled uncontrollably, the resistance in her crimson eyes flickering under the unbearable agony.

Sol smirked from the side, arms crossed. "You sure you don't want to talk? Because he can keep this up all night. And trust me, you won't last that long."

The girl gasped for air, sweat forming on her forehead as she tried to hold out, but the divine energy continued to burn her, melting away what little defiance she had left.

Finally, she let out a choked whimper, her voice weak. "S-Stop...!" Her nails dug into the ground beneath her, her pride crumbling under the sheer torment. "I'll... I'll talk! J-Just stop this...!"

Arthur pulled back his hand slightly, letting the divine aura retract. The burning sensation faded, and the girl collapsed onto the ground, her body twitching as she tried to recover from the ordeal.

Arthur exhaled lightly, standing back up. "Good. Start talking."

"Alright," Arthur finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "Let's start with your name. What should I call you?"

The girl's red eyes burned with frustration, but she knew resistance was futile. Gritting her teeth, she spat, "I am Azryth, daughter of Satan."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the revelation. "Satan had a daughter? Who's the mother?"

Azryth scoffed. "I have no mother. I was not conceived through conventional methods. It would be more accurate to say that I was created."

Arthur exchanged a glance with Sol, who merely smirked, enjoying the unfolding drama. "And?" he pressed.

Azryth hesitated for a moment before continuing. "My sole purpose was to be a sword."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Why? Why would he turn his own daughter's soul into an artifact spirit? With his power, he could've easily obtained a stronger soul to create a sentient weapon." Find more to read at My Virtual Library Empire

Azryth clenched her fists, a bitter smile creeping onto her face. "Because I possess a unique trait. I can absorb the life essence of my enemies to grow stronger. Using my soul as the core material, the Abyssal Fang was forged, imbued with my ability. The sword could drain the vitality and power of those it cut, growing infinitely stronger with no upper limit."

Arthur remained silent for a moment, digesting the information. "Still, that's heartless," he finally said. "To be turned into a weapon by your own father. Forced to live inside a blade."

"And then being sealed away for centuries, only to be unsealed and become a slave," Sol added with a teasing grin.

"Ugh, you're so irritating!" Azryth huffed, crossing her arms. "I swear, if I had my powers—"

"But you don't," Sol cut in with a smug grin. "So sit tight and behave, little demon."

Arthur chuckled. "You two sure get along well."

Azryth glared at him, then sighed, slumping her shoulders. "Whatever, what do you want now?" she asked begrudgingly.

Arthur decided to take advantage of her somewhat relaxed demeanor. "Alright, let's talk. What would it take for you to willingly work with me?"

Azryth narrowed her eyes. "Why should I?"

"You've already lost," Arthur stated plainly. "But I'm not unreasonable. I'd rather have a cooperative partner than a forced slave. So, let's negotiate."

Azryth stared at him, then exhaled loudly. "Fine. Here's my offer."

She lifted a tiny finger, her expression serious. "First, you will never, ever torture me with divine energy again."

Arthur smirked. "Fair."

"Second," she continued, "you will regularly go on demonic beast hunts to provide the sword with demonic mana."

Arthur thought about it and nodded. "That actually benefits me too, so I can agree to that."

"Third," she added, "I need a constant supply of mana stones. The better the quality, the better I perform."

Arthur rubbed his chin. "Mana stones, huh? That might be a little expensive, but it's not impossible."

"In return," Azryth continued, her tone growing more composed, "I will comply with your requests. I will assist you fully in battle, without resistance."

Arthur nodded. "Sounds reasonable."

She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And… I want to be treated equally to Sol."

Before Arthur could reply, Sol immediately jabbed her on the head, making her yelp. "Keep dreaming," Sol said smugly.

Arthur let out a laugh. "Yeah, that last one isn't happening."

Azryth rubbed her head, grumbling. "Tch, fine. Whatever."

Arthur extended a hand toward her. "Deal?"

Azryth eyed him warily, then sighed. "Deal." She reluctantly shook his hand, sealing their agreement.

With that settled, Arthur let out a deep breath. "Alright, I'm heading back now. I need sleep."

Sol waved him off, while Azryth just crossed her arms, muttering something under her breath. Arthur ignored it as his consciousness drifted back to reality.

Lying in his bed, he felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him. It had been a long day, and with a small smirk at the thought of his new 'partnership,' he closed his eyes and drifted into a well-deserved sleep.

*******

Arthur felt a gentle tap against his body, pulling him from the depths of sleep.

"Young master, it is morning."

The voice was sweet and familiar, laced with a sultry warmth. His eyes fluttered open, expecting the bright morning sun to greet him, but instead, his gaze was met by the sight of a voluptuous woman standing beside his bed. A warm, knowing smile adorned her mature, beautiful face.

"Clara?"

The busty maid chuckled softly, her deep brown eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Indeed, young master. How have you been? I trust my daughter has been tending to your needs in the capital?"

Arthur smirked, his hand moving without hesitation, claiming a handful of the thick, round flesh beneath her skirt. He gave her ample ass a firm squeeze, feeling its softness mold against his grip.

"Oh, Lily took care of me well enough," he mused, kneading her flesh with possessive intent. "I hope you don't let me miss her while I'm here."

Clara let out a pleased hum, stepping closer until her generous curves pressed lightly against him. Leaning in, she deliberately let her heavy, barely contained breasts hang before his face, teasing him with the sight of her deep cleavage.

"You won't miss a thing, young master," she whispered, her tone dripping with seductive promise.

"Shall I help you bathe… like she did?"

Arthur's smirk widened as his hands roamed up her body, cupping the massive globes straining against the fabric of her uniform. Even through the cloth, he could feel their warmth, their sheer, intoxicating weight.

"That's a welcome offer," he murmured, rolling her nipples between his fingers through the thin material. Clara gasped, a flicker of heat flashing in her eyes, before she took his hand in hers. "Then allow me to serve you properly, young master," she purred, guiding him toward the bath.

******

The bathroom was filled with steam, the scent of warm water and scented oils lingering in the air. Arthur leaned back against the smooth marble edge of the large tub, his eyes locked onto Clara as she knelt before him, completely bare.

Her massive tits swayed with every movement, her thick thighs pressing together as she dipped a cloth into the water, wringing it out. Droplets slid down her curves, tracing over her full breasts and wide hips.

"Allow me to wash you, young master," Clara said, her voice dripping with warmth.

She pressed the damp cloth to his chest, rubbing slow, deliberate circles. Her touch lingered longer than necessary, her fingers grazing the firm ridges of his muscles. Arthur smirked, reaching out and grabbing a handful of her fat ass, kneading the soft flesh.

"You're quite thorough," he muttered, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.

Clara let out a small gasp, her body pressing closer. "I always try to give my best to take care of my master's needs."

Arthur pulled her onto his lap, her thick thighs straddling him as his hands roamed freely. Her heavy breasts pressed against his chest, warm and soft. His fingers sank into the plushness of her ass, pulling her forward until their bodies rubbed together beneath the water.

"Let's see just how well you take care of me," he growled against her ear.

Clara bit her lip, her breath hitching as her nails dug into his shoulders. "As much as you desire, young master."