The Milk River boiled.
Gold-pink currents of Kaito's Warmth surged downstream, spreading his seed into every root, womb, and throat that drank. But across the bend, the water blackened, foaming with shadow.
From the far bank, the figure painted in milk and blood raised his arms—and the river answered.
Hands of Void.
Hundreds. Thousands.
Pale, slick, clawing upward, dragging themselves out of the water. Their bodies dripped like wax, their cunts gaped like wounds, their cocks oozed tar. Their moans weren't of pleasure but of hunger.
The Milkmaids screamed. Some fell to their knees, fingering themselves uncontrollably as both currents fought inside them—gold warmth against black void. Others grabbed spears, milk streaming from their tits, eyes wild with confusion.
Kaori's blade sang free, her nipples hard beneath her drenched silks.
"They'll corrupt the river if we don't break them here!"
Nyxa licked her lips, thighs dripping down her squirt-beast.
