Crossover Anime: Starting by fusing with an old sword and summoning Morgan

Fuyuki City, late at night.

Inside the master bedroom of the Fairy Palace, the air was filled with a captivating and enchanting fragrance.

This enormous bedroom, designed by Morgan himself, has now become the most "dangerous" area in the entire house.

The heavy blackout curtains shut out the moonlight, leaving only the magic lamp by the bedside emitting an ambiguous warm light.

"What... what kind of clothes are these...?"

A shy whisper, tinged with tears, broke the silence.

In front of a huge floor-length mirror, Joan of Arc stood with her arms crossed, looking at herself in the mirror with a flushed face.

She wasn't wearing her usual nun's habit, nor was she wearing ordinary pajamas.

Instead, she wore a black lace slip dress "sponsored" by Morgan.

The fabric was pitifully sparse, with large swathes of snow-white skin peeking out from under the black lace. The cutout designs at the chest and waist, in particular, perfectly accentuated the curves of this patriotic saint.

It was an extreme temptation powerful enough to shatter the faith of any believer.

"Miss Morgan said...it's 'a wife's duty'..."

Joan of Arc bit her lip and tried to pull her skirt down, but it was clearly in vain.

Since becoming a woman, she has found that her senses have become unusually acute.

"Pfft... Hahahaha!"

A burst of merciless laughter came from behind.

Jeanne Alter was sitting cross-legged on that ridiculously large bed, clutching a cushion in her hand, laughing so hard tears were almost streaming down her face.

"Hey, hey, where did you come from, you succubus? Where did that saintess who always talks about 'master' go?"

"Dressed like that...who are you trying to seduce? Shameless woman!"

In contrast to Joan of Arc, Black Joan of Arc wore a rather conservative white cotton nightgown (prepared by Irisviel).

The stark contrast between black and white is full of irony.

"Shut up!"

Joan of Arc turned around in shame and indignation, glaring at the gloating "herself":

"This is just... just to make Luo Chen happy! And do you think you can escape? Irisviel said it's just the two of us tonight..."

Joan of Arc's voice suddenly stopped at this point.

Because the bedroom doorknob turned.

"Click."

The door opened.

Luo Chen walked in, still damp from his shower.

He was wearing only a loose bathrobe, the collar open, revealing his muscular chest.

His crimson-gold pupils contracted slightly the instant he saw the scene inside the room.

"Oh?"

Luo Chen closed the door behind him, leaned against the door frame, and brazenly scanned the two Joan of Arcs with his gaze.

Finally, the image freezes on Joan of Arc, dressed in black lace and with a flushed face.

"It seems Morgan's taste remains excellent as always."

Luo Chen strode forward, walking step by step toward Joan of Arc.

That aggressive sense of oppression made Joan of Arc instinctively want to retreat, only to find that behind her was a cold mirror.

"Luo...Luo Chen...I..."

Joan of Arc frantically tried to cover herself, but Luo Chen grabbed her wrist and pressed it against the mirror.

"What are you covering up?"

Luo Chen leaned closer to her neck and took a deep breath:

"You are no longer the saintly figure enshrined on an altar."

"You are my woman."

"Waaah..."

Joan of Arc let out a whimper like a small animal, and her body went limp.

Tell me, Jeanne.

Luo Chen held her in his arms and asked in a low voice:

"Dressed like this to wait for me... what do you want me to do?"

Joan of Arc's reason completely collapsed at this moment.

Shame? Faith? Pride?

In Luo Chen's domineering embrace, all these things were thrown to the winds.

She raised her head, and her once clear, bright blue eyes were now veiled with a misty haze.

"I want...you..."

Joan of Arc's voice was barely audible, yet it carried a resolute determination born of desperation:

Even if it means utter depravity... I still want to be yours... belonging only to you...

"very good."

Luo Chen smiled with satisfaction.

He picked Joan of Arc up and, instead of heading to the bed, pressed her down onto the chair next to him.

"Hey! You two!"

Jeanne Alter, lying on the bed, finally couldn't bear to watch any longer.

She threw the cushion at me hard, her face flushed red with embarrassment.

"Do you think I don't exist?! Go somewhere else to vent your heat!"

Luo Chen caught the pillow with one hand and casually tossed it aside.

He turned his head, looked at the ruffled witch, and a wicked smile curled at the corner of his mouth:

"Getting impatient?"

"Who, who's in a hurry!" Jeanne Alter stammered in response.

"Since there's no rush, come over here."

Luo Chen beckoned to her with his finger:

"You were having a good time making fun of your sister earlier. Now it's your turn."

"Huh? I'm not going! I'm not that masochistic saintess!"

Jeanne Alter gripped the sheets tightly, trying to resist.

But the next second, Luo Chen's figure had already appeared beside the bed.

Before she could react, Luo Chen had already pulled her and the blanket into his arms.

"Let me go! You bastard!"

Jeanne d'Arc in black struggled desperately, opening her mouth to bite Luo Chen's shoulder.

But Luo Chen didn't give her a chance at all, and kissed her lips directly, silencing all her protests.

"Ugh... Mm!!"

As the familiar scent flowed into her body, Jeanne Alter's previously stiff body instantly went limp.

That was an obedience and attachment to "Luo Chen" etched deep within the spirit foundation.

A few minutes later.

Luo Chen released the panting Black Jeanne, looked at her dazed eyes, and chuckled softly:

"They say no, but their bodies tell a different story."

He picked up Jeanne d'Arc (Black) and placed her beside her.

Two identical girls, one in black and one in white, one shy and one proud, both with disheveled clothes and unfocused eyes.

This is simply a visual shock.

Listen carefully.

Luo Chen leaned down, placing his hands on either side of the two women, completely enveloping them in his shadow:

"Whether you're a saint or a witch, you only have one identity when you come to me."

"That is my queen."

"Jeanne." Luo Chen looked at Bai Zhen.

"Yes..." Joan of Arc replied, her voice trembling.

"Tonight, forget all about 'holiness.' I want to see your truest, most greedy side."

"Jeanne d'Arc Alter." Luo Chen looked at Jeanne d'Arc Alter.

"W-What are you doing..." Jeanne d'Arc Alter turned her head away, not daring to look at him.

"Stop pretending. I know what you crave. Tonight, I'll fill you with all your 'hatred'... in my own way."

"Pervert... lecher..."

Jeanne d'Arc in Black cursed, but her hands unconsciously wrapped around Luo Chen's neck.

The moonlight outside the window was just right.

Inside this closed "sanctuary," a ritual concerning "degradation" and "conquest" is in full swing.

The once noble saintess and the proud witch finally fell to earth on this night, stained with the color called "love and desire".