Valkyrie Flavor Tasting Guide

Beyond Beatrice's focused gaze, in an inconspicuous corner of a cell, a boy, utterly out of place with the surrounding atmosphere of despair, sat quietly on a dark, hard bed. Shadows shrouded half his face, yet a slow, sinister smile, utterly incongruous with his youthful appearance, stretched across his lips.

He slowly rose to his feet and silently walked to the fence, his dark eyes fixed intently on the powerful and holy figure in the distance, like a predator. He watched her destroy the cage with overwhelming force, watched the soft glow emanating from her, and watched her magnificent movements, full of power and beauty.

The boy was mesmerized. A crimson hue gradually crept into the depths of his pupils—a color tinged with fanaticism, greed, and a frenzied possessiveness. He extended his tongue and gently licked his slightly dry lips before retreating back into the shadows, concealing his unique, unharmed body once more. He lay back down on the cold steel hammock, closed his eyes, and Beatrice's image uncontrollably surfaced in his mind again and again. He traced her contours, imagined her warmth and touch, and rhythmically adjusted his breathing, as if performing some secret ritual.

The boy's desires were like an undercurrent, both lewd and dangerous. His longing for this sudden "savior" grew wildly in his barren heart, making his heart beat faster and faster. He fantasized about being able to approach her, touch her, and even... possess her completely. This thought both excited and terrified him.

"It's alright, children! I'll take you away from this hell!" Beatrice's roar echoed through the steel corridor, her voice trembling slightly with extreme rage. The Holy Lance [Black Abyss White Flower] burst forth with unprecedented brilliance, like a sword of judgment from heaven, mercilessly shattering all the shackles that stood in her way.

At first, she silently counted the number of people rescued, but as more and more small, wounded figures with empty eyes appeared before her, this fragile resolve was completely overwhelmed by a surge of grief and anger. When the first rescued child met her gaze with those lifeless eyes, Beatrice felt as if an ice pick had pierced her heart. There was no joy of rescue in those eyes, no hope for the future, only a heartbreaking numbness and despair born of torment.

She gritted her teeth, suppressing the surging pain and nausea within her, and swung the Holy Lance again and again. "These poor children...fate...how far has it fallen?" This question swirled in her mind, yet she dared not delve into it, for fear of touching upon the deeper, more chilling darkness behind it.

The exhaustion washed over her like waves, and Beatrice's movements became sluggish and heavy. Each swing of her gun seemed to drain all her strength. Finally, after cleaving through yet another sturdy cell door, her knees gave way, and she slammed heavily onto the cold concrete. The gun, [Black Abyss White Flower], was embedded in the ground, supporting her swaying body. Sweat dripped from her snow-white hair, spreading a small, dark puddle on the ground, and her vision blurred.

Despite the healing power of the Black Abyss White Flower, a power of "creation," soothing the surrounding children like warm sunshine, most remained rooted to the spot, like a group of soulless puppets, unmoved by this hard-won salvation. Only a few of the bolder children tentatively gathered around, but when they surrounded her, Beatrice sensed a strange, unsettling pressure emanating from them. It wasn't the warm comfort of being rescued, but rather some indescribable, lurking danger in the darkness.

She forced herself to calm down, took a deep breath, and dragged her exhausted body toward the last and most secluded cell. Thanks to [Black Abyss White Flower]'s special senses originating from the core of a previous civilization's Herrscher, otherwise, in her current state, she probably wouldn't have discovered this cleverly hidden corner.

Beatrice froze the moment the cell door was flung open by the tip of a gun.

The boy in the cell was radiant, a stark contrast to the apathetic children outside. He had no injuries, his clothes were relatively clean, and his overly bright eyes revealed a cunning and composure that seemed out of place in this place.

The boy before her not only possessed a vibrant spirit and a healthy physique, but also gave Beatrice an absurd illusion—that she had not rescued a pitiful child from hell who was being used as an experimental subject, but rather that she had acted like a rude intruder who had smashed open the door of a hotel room and kicked the guests out without explanation.

Now, as Beatrice, who was kneeling on the ground due to exhaustion and struggling even to lift the Holy Lance, slowly raised her empty right hand, the little boy whose style was completely out of place with everything around him.

Then, in Beatrice's pupils, which contracted sharply in shock, she saw a dark red vortex, like a surging sea of ​​blood, appear out of thin air in the little boy's tender palm and begin to slowly swirl. The vortex exuded a chilling, eerie aura that seemed to erode the soul.

“My luck… is really good.” The boy’s voice was light and innocent, as if he were sharing an interesting toy, but the content of his words sent a chill down Beatrice’s spine. “You just happened to run into the legendary strongest Valkyrie, Beatrice, when you were at your weakest, both physically and mentally.”

"Otherwise, I'm afraid it would be absolutely impossible for you to fall under the spell of me, this fake Herrscher of Knowledge, that fake fake of fake... well, plus a fake hypnosis, right?"

In the moments before her consciousness completely dissipated, Beatrice could only vaguely hear a set of words that she could not understand, yet which sent chills down her spine.

Beatrice's sapphire-blue eyes instantly lost focus, and the Black Abyss White Flower that supported her body slipped from her grasp, crashing to the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. Her body remained completely still, like an exquisitely beautiful doll whose soul had been ripped from it.

Seeing that Beatrice had finally given up all resistance, the boy's smile grew even more sinister. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, stretched out his seemingly slender and weak arms, and wrapped them tightly around Beatrice's delicate, supple waist. He buried his face deeply in her flat and warm belly, greedily, almost morbidly, inhaling her pure and sweet scent.

This is also one of his abilities—not something he was born with, but rather an unexpected "gift" from within him, something called [Feather Crossing Dust].

It was a feather that a celestial being from a distant land had carelessly lost over the long years. It was also the magical tool that protected him and allowed him to escape the cruel experiments and merciless cleaning in the laboratory time and time again.

In that hazy "past" of being rescued, the immortal from Shenzhou lost an important feather forever. But relying on the fragmented memories remaining in that feather, the boy barely managed to grasp a portion of the power of the Divine Key, and thus survived in this hell.

And now, let him collect some... a little interest from this current Schicksal's strongest "Herrscher Assassin," the saintess of the Shaniat family, and the only S-rank Valkyrie.

"This is really a bizarre script."

Lu Mo didn't want to admit it, but he really felt great.

Even though it's not the same person, this feeling of blasphemy is still pretty good, brainwashing that legendary S-class Valkyrie.

After entering the flashback, Beatrice adopted a languid demeanor, allowing Lu Mo to defile her in this place.

"Didn't expect you to still not be open to this kind of fun at this point?"

Beatrice probably knows Lu Mo's interests better than Lu Mo himself; once they erupt, they will be a very dark and profound desire.

She, as a Valkyrie of Destiny, will be utterly defiled.

"Then why don't we... let loose and have some fun?"

Beatrice picked up Lu Mo, who had transformed back into his boy form, and slowly walked into the prison.

A dark cell always breeds something dark, doesn't it?

Lu Mo boldly unbuttoned Beatrice's combat suit, which was almost identical in style to that of her counterpart.

The first time he saw it perfectly, it was what he craved.

Beatrice closed her eyes, eagerly awaiting Lu Mo's awkward actions.

"Hehe...you're not wrong."

Beatrice returned to the script, adopting the appearance of being completely controlled by Lu Mo, lying lifelessly in the small cell, letting Lu Mo arrange her body in a blasphemous manner.

Lu Mo's eyes also turned fierce.

"If an S-rank Valkyrie became my servant, I'd really love to see how Schicksal would react—"

As the only S-class Valkyrie of this era, what an "interesting" scene it would be if she were to fall into the trap of being manipulated by others.

Unfortunately, Lu Mo, who possesses the Feathered Dust, is not a short-sighted person who only seeks momentary pleasure.

He will make good use of her identity to take revenge on fate.

Chapter 185 It's normal for me, who was adopted by the Shaniat family, to be intimate with the Holy Maiden, right?

(The duplicate parts from the previous chapter have been corrected; I didn't notice the document when I copied and uploaded it.)

Beatrice successfully rescued all the imprisoned children and safely transferred them to the protection of Destiny. During this rescue operation, the mysterious and special young man—Lu Mo—naturally also left the hellish Babylonian laboratory.

For Beatrice, there is no such person as "Siegfried Kaslana" in her timeline. This is not just a script; although her resemblance to Cecilia far surpasses that of the fake Yuuto whom Kiana disliked, there are still some differences.

After a brief but careful discussion with her "adoptive sister," Theresa Apocalypse, the head of the Far East branch of Schicksal, the two powerful Valkyries, both childless, made a joint decision—to adopt the boy in the laboratory, the only one whose eyes still held a glimmer of light.

Of course, Lu Mo's Feather Dust was undoubtedly playing a crucial role in this—as long as he didn't come into contact with the righteous holder, Lu Mo believed he would never be discovered.

At this moment, Lu Mo, who had been successfully adopted and whose appearance had returned to that of a young boy, was being held contentedly in Beatrice's arms. Looking at the gentle and loving expression that naturally flowed across the face of this holy Valkyrie, he felt a mischievous smugness welling up inside him.

The hypnotic effect was even more perfect than he had imagined.

With her perception altered, Beatrice poured all her affection for the fictional "child" she had "rescued" onto him.

"Mother……"

Lu Mo, in a sweet, almost meltingly childlike voice, nuzzled his head against Beatrice's soft, full breasts, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck, indulging in his affection. He could feel Beatrice tighten her embrace upon hearing his call, her azure eyes overflowing with doting tenderness and affection.

He reveled in the unreserved affection of the hypnotized Beatrice, enjoying the sacred and warm aura emanating from her.

“My dear child, it’s alright now… From now on, I’ll be your mother.” Beatrice’s voice was as soft as a feather. She kissed Lu Mo’s forehead and hugged him even tighter, as if she wanted to completely integrate this lost and found treasure into her own body.

Lu Mo buried his face in his mother's warm embrace, a victorious smile playing on his lips that went unnoticed by anyone.

"No, Leah's mother is so young, I should call you Sister Leah."

Enjoying Beatrice's warmth, Lu Mo realized that his sexual desire was definitely not a problem. Beatrice's scent and touch were indeed more than one level better than Kiana's.

“No,” Lu Mo suddenly lifted his head from her embrace, his dark eyes sparkling with childlike innocence. He corrected her seriously in a sweet, almost cloyingly childlike voice, “Mama Leah is so young and beautiful, I should call you Sister Leah.”

"Sister Leah," the words undoubtedly struck the softest spot in Beatrice's heart. She paused slightly, then let out a melodious chuckle, as clear and crisp as a wind chime. She reached out and affectionately stroked Lu Mo's delicate nose.

"You little rascal, you've got a sweet tongue."

Although she said that, the smile in her eyes deepened. She enjoyed this unique title, and the wholehearted dependence and love this little "child" had for her. She hugged Lu Mo tighter, secretly vowing to completely dispel the shadow he had brought out of the Babylonian laboratory with all her tenderness.

Enjoying Beatrice's warm embrace and sacred aura, Lu Mo let out a satisfied sigh. He had to admit that his sexuality was absolutely flawless. Beatrice's scent and touch, that unique blend of the cool freshness of first snow and the mellow warmth of motherhood, were indeed far more wonderful than anything he had ever experienced before.

The beginning of this script seems to be much more interesting than he expected...

The afternoon sun shone through the kitchen's clear windows, casting warm yellow dappled patterns on the floor, and the air was filled with a faint, sweet aroma characteristic of baking pastries.

Beatrice stood before the kitchen counter, intently preparing afternoon tea treats. She wore only a pristine white maid's apron, its ties tied in a delicate bow at the back, outlining her slender yet powerful waist. Her bare back gleamed with a warm, ivory-like sheen in the sunlight, her long legs pressed together, her feet clad in soft indoor slippers. She exuded a comforting, homely warmth and allure.

Lu Mo slipped silently into the kitchen, his footsteps as light as a cat's. When he saw Beatrice's alluring yet unguarded appearance, his eyes lit up. He didn't make a sound, but tiptoed up behind her, and then, from behind, gently wrapped his small body around her thighs.

"Sister Leah..." His voice was a little languid and hoarse from just waking up. He rubbed his small cheek against Beatrice's smooth and delicate leg, feeling its amazing elasticity and warmth. "What delicious food are you making?"

The sudden touch and coquettishness made Beatrice stiffen slightly. She looked down and saw the small figure hugging her like a clingy kitten. A helpless yet doting smile appeared on her face.

She put down the whisk, turned around, picked up the little guy from the ground, and let him straddle her arm.

"I'm making your favorite strawberry cake," her voice was so gentle it could melt your heart. With her other free finger, she dipped a little whipped cream and gently touched Lu Mo's nose. "Why didn't you sleep a little longer? Are you hungry?"

"I love everything Sister Lia makes," Lu Mo replied in a sweet, childlike voice, his little nostrils flaring as he greedily inhaled the sweet scent in the air—a mixture of cream, strawberries, and her unique fragrance. His gaze fell on the bowl of tempting pink strawberry cream on the counter, and his eyes darted around as a mischievous idea quickly took shape in his mind.

While Beatrice turned to get a piping bag, Lu Mo slipped out of her arms like a nimble little monkey. He quietly slipped to the counter, stretched out his little finger, and scooped up a large dollop of pink strawberry cream.

"Sister Leah, look here!" he called out in his childish voice.

Beatrice turned around at the sound, her face still bearing a gentle, questioning expression. The next second, her vision was filled with pink. Warm, sweet cream, with a hint of strawberry sweetness, was mercilessly smeared on her face by the little guy, stretching from the tip of her nose all the way to her cheeks, making her look just like a little kitten with patterns painted on it.

"You... little rascal!" Beatrice was taken aback at first, then laughed helplessly. She reached out to wipe the cream off her face, but Lu Mo dodged her with even greater speed.

"Hehe, Sister Leah, I won't be polite!" Lu Mo's face was adorned with a sly smile after his prank had succeeded. There was still cream left on his hands, and he showed no sign of stopping. His small body nimbly darted around the kitchen, dodging Beatrice's outstretched hands, while simultaneously targeting the large expanse of her smooth, unclothed skin.

Soon, a sweet yet chaotic chase unfolded in the kitchen.

Beatrice's long, fair back and rounded, supple shoulders were adorned with pink "cream flowers." The cool, sweet touch made her chuckle softly. At first, she wanted to catch this mischievous little guy and "teach him a lesson," but as soon as they met eyes, her helplessness completely turned into indulgence and pampering.

During the chase, Beatrice was pushed and shoved by Lu Mo, her back gently pressed against the cold refrigerator door. Before she could react, that small figure pressed against her again. This time, he didn't continue spreading cream, but instead enjoyed Beatrice, who had become his food.

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"Mmm...so sweet..." He spoke earnestly, like a connoisseur savoring a delicacy.

Lu Mo's fingers gently traced her skin, lightly scraping away the cream from her body. A unique sensation spread through her skin, causing Beatrice's body to freeze instantly.

An unprecedented, strange sensation spread rapidly throughout my body like a spider web from the point of contact.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, and her azure eyes widened slightly at the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

Lu Mo was not unaware of Beatrice's unusual condition; in fact, he had anticipated it. He continued his "cake-cleaning" without stopping.

...Every place that had been pranked was exploited by him in a simple and intimate way, and he salvaged all the sweetness from Beatrice.

Beatrice felt her mind had completely stopped. She leaned against the refrigerator, her body trembling slightly from the bizarre experience.

A sense of unfamiliarity – this was indeed very unfamiliar to "Beateria" at this time, since the Beatrice in this script had no experience of touching a man.

This unfamiliar emotion, which both terrified and craved her, was growing wildly deep within her body, like a tender sprout breaking through the soil.

When Lu Mo finally cleaned the last bit of cream off her body and lifted up his little face, which was also covered in cream, to give her an innocent and satisfied smile, Beatrice seemed to wake up from a dream and suddenly came back to her senses.

She looked at the guy in front of her, who was also in a mess because of her, and then looked down at the faint pink marks still remaining on her skin. The flush on her face from seeing Lu Mo's flawless face had not completely faded.

She took a deep breath, suppressing the unfamiliar, overwhelming feeling that threatened to engulf her.

Everything seems to have returned to normal—at least it appears so.

Then, Beatrice reached out and gently wiped away the remaining cream from Lu Mo's cheek with her fingertips.

"I really... can't do anything with you." Her voice carried a hint of husky indulgence that she herself was unaware of.

With that, she picked Lu Mo up from the ground, ignoring the mess of pastry ingredients on the counter, and walked towards the bathroom with steps that were still steady but carried a hint of barely perceptible panic.

She needed to use cold water to calm her overly fast-beating heart.

The corridor leading to the bathroom wasn't long, but it felt exceptionally long to Beatrice.

Lu Mo curled up in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder. His warm breath brushed against her neck, the subtle tickling sensation like feathers teasing her already taut nerves.

Despite it being just normal intimacy, the unfamiliarity made her feel a strange sense of intoxication.

Her heart was still pounding uncontrollably, and the scene in the kitchen that had made her blush and tremble replayed in her mind.

That unfamiliar feeling, which almost swallowed her whole, filled her with both fear and a secret sense of anticipation.

From her perspective, she couldn't see what was happening and wouldn't notice that Lu Mo was now silently enveloping her consciousness once again with the invisible power originating from the Key of God, like the finest spider web.

This time, Lu Mo was no longer simply implanting some basic concepts. What he wanted to do was to gradually dismantle and reshape her unbreakable pride and bottom line as a "saint" and a "valkyrie" in the gentlest and most irresistible way.

He wanted her to feel that whatever happened next, no matter how unconventional or challenging their past perceptions their interactions were, it was all reasonable and normal.

As Beatrice carried him into the spacious and bright bathroom, the last trace of panic and struggle in her heart vanished completely as that invisible force quietly seeped in.

Her expression returned to its impeccable gentleness and doting, but deep within her azure eyes, there was a hint of almost obsessive light that she herself was unaware of.

In the bathroom, warm steam rose and enveloped everything in a hazy mist.

Beatrice carefully placed Lu Mo on the soft, non-slip mat.

Then, she turned around, her back to him, and began to untie the only remaining apron she was wearing, which was also stained with cream.

The delicate straps slipped off her back, and the white apron, a symbol of "home" and "warmth," floated to the ground like a butterfly wing that had lost its support, revealing her back, which was like the most perfect work of art.

Her smooth skin took on a faint pink hue as the moisture evaporated.

She showed no shyness whatsoever, her movements as natural as if it were all perfectly normal.

She bent down, reached out and turned on the shower. Warm water sprayed down from the showerhead, instantly washing away the water droplets and leaving glistening streaks on her body.

"Alright, come here." She turned around, a gentle smile on her face, and reached out her hand to the little one who was staring blankly at her. At that moment, water was flowing down her back, gathering into a small stream, then meandering downstream…

Faced with this breathtakingly beautiful scene that any man would crave, Lu Mo simply blinked his clear, innocent eyes. He took a few quick steps and plunged into the warm, open arms that were embracing him.

"Sister Leah, I want a hug."