The acrid smoke of burning demon flesh hung heavy in the air as the Imperial Army's camp sprawled across the scorched ground outside the demon capital.
Banners bearing the golden eagle of the Empire fluttered in the sulfurous wind, while the distant sounds of battle echoed from the breached city walls.
Command tents dotted the encampment like white mushrooms, each housing officers coordinating the relentless assault into the heart of demon territory.
Through this chaos of war, a figure approached on horseback—completely encased in gleaming silver armor that caught the hellish red glow of the burning city.
Every curve of her feminine form was accentuated by the masterfully crafted plate, from the swell of her breasts beneath the breastplate to the elegant taper of her waist.
Her helmet, adorned with flowing silver plumes, concealed her face entirely, lending an otherworldly presence to her arrival.
As she dismounted near the largest command tent, two female guards snapped to attention.
Their leather armor and simple spears marked them as inexperienced recruits—the kind of soldiers who'd been pulled from rear duties by commanders more interested in their bodies than their combat skills.
'Pathetic,' the silver-armored woman thought, her yellow eyes glowing behind her visor as she surveyed the guards.
'These women have no business being anywhere near a battlefield.'
'That fool's weakness for flesh over function will be the death of us all.'
She clicked her tongue in disgust.
"Is he inside?" she demanded, her voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to absolute obedience.
Before the guards could respond, a series of high-pitched moans erupted from within the tent—wanton, desperate sounds that made even the battle-hardened soldiers blush.
"Ahh~♡ Yes! More! Fuck me harder!! Please, I need it~♡!!" came a woman's voice, punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh.
The silver woman's gauntleted hands clenched into fists.
Without another word, she strode forward and yanked aside the tent's heavy curtain.
The sight that greeted her was exactly what she'd expected, yet no less infuriating.
Bent over the strategy table was a voluptuous woman in her thirties, her generous curves spilling from a black maid's uniform that belonged in some nobleman's manor, not a military encampment.
The dress was typical of nobility's servants—a tight-fitted black bodice with silver clasps that pushed her ample breasts up and together, creating a valley of cleavage that jiggled with each thrust.
Her white apron, now bunched around her waist, had intricate lace trim that spoke of wealth and luxury rather than practical service.
Long white stockings hugged her thick thighs, held up by garters that had been pushed aside for easier access.
Behind her stood a man in expensive silk clothing—deep purple doublet with gold threading, fine leather boots, and a cape that had been carelessly tossed aside.
His pants were bunched around his ankles as he gripped the woman's wide hips, driving his considerable length deep into her willing body.
"Oh gods, yes~♡!! Fill me up! I can't... I can't get enough~♡!!" the maid cried out, her face flushed with pleasure as her heavy breasts bounced against the wooden table with each powerful thrust.
The man grunted with effort, sweat beading on his well-muscled torso as he pounded into the eager woman.
His above-average face was twisted in concentration and lust, lost in the primal act of fucking.
"What is the meaning of this?!" The silver woman's voice cut through the air like a blade, accompanied by a crushing wave of killing intent that made the very air seem to thicken.
The man stumbled backward, his seven-inch cock slipping wetly from the maid's pussy with an obscene sound.
The woman was thrown forward onto the table, maps and battle plans scattering as she tried to catch herself.
Golden eyes blazed from behind the silver helmet as the armored figure's aura pressed down on everyone in the tent like a physical weight.
The maid whimpered and trembled, her legs barely able to support her as she struggled to pull her dress back down.
The man, despite his compromising position, didn't flinch as the silver woman's presence washed over him.
He'd grown accustomed to her overwhelming power, though it never failed to remind him of the vast gulf between their abilities.
"Just... preparing for the breach," he said lamely, running a hand through his disheveled hair with obvious irritation and annoyance.
"Do you think we need your pathetic strength?" she snarled, and in the next instant, she vanished.
Before he could blink, iron-strong fingers wrapped around his collar and yanked him forward.
His fine silk shirt tore under the pressure, revealing a surprisingly well-built torso—defined abs and corded muscle that spoke of rigorous training, even if his tactical mind was his true weapon.
Her helmet was inches from his face now, those terrible golden eyes boring into his soul.
Even through the armor, he could sense the barely contained fury radiating from her perfect form.
The maid, still trembling from both pleasure and terror, managed to bow deeply despite her unsteady legs.
"F-forgive me, Lady Astasia," she stammered before scrambling toward the tent's exit.
Lady Astasia's glowing gaze followed the fleeing woman.
"How could you do this, Nanny?" she called out, causing the older woman to flinch and freeze at the tent's entrance.
The man—Raven—stepped forward, his torn shirt hanging open as he faced down the Empire's most feared commander.
"Leave her," he said firmly. "She lost her husband in the siege three days ago."
He shook his head, further adding, "We were both just... filling each other's hollowness."
A cold, mirthless chuckle escaped from behind Astasia's helmet.
She released his collar and stepped back, the crushing pressure of her aura easing slightly.
"Give me the strategy," she commanded, her voice dripping with disdain.
"I cannot stay here with trash like you—a writhing insect barely worth the air you breathe."
Raven's impressive cock, still semi-hard despite the interruption, swayed like a pendulum as he moved to retrieve papers from the table where he'd just been fucking the maid moments before.
The tactical maps were wrinkled and stained, but still legible.
"Here," he said, holding out the documents.
Astasia snatched them from his hands, her armored fingers making the parchment crinkle as she scanned the contents.
After a moment, a smirk played at the edges of her voice.
"At least something about your body is worth keeping you alive for," she said, acknowledging the brilliance of his strategic planning even as she insulted everything else about him.
Raven turned away, gathering his scattered clothing as he spoke.
"But I don't understand how the Demon King is able to predict all of our attacks and movements."
"It's as if he already knows our plans before we even finalize them."
The rustling of papers stopped abruptly.
When Raven glanced back, Astasia's helmet was turned toward him, those golden eyes boring into him with renewed intensity.
"Do you think anyone in the Hero's Party is as much of a piece of shit as you?" she asked, her voice deadly quiet.
"Are you suggesting someone would betray the Empire?"
The accusation hung in the air like a blade at his throat.
Raven opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again.
What could he say?
That his strategic mind, honed through years of tactical study and battlefield experience, was telling him that their enemy knew too much?
That someone with access to their highest-level planning had to be feeding information to the demons?
He watched helplessly as Astasia strode from the tent, her silver armor catching the hellish light from the burning city beyond.
Raven clenched his fists, staring down at his hands as exhaustion washed over him.
Even his anger felt drained, leaving only a hollow ache in his chest.
'Shit... fuck all of this.'
Looking down on his body, that was something she thought was a blessing, arriving as a group of heroes summoned in this world to fight the demon king.
Awakening an incubus bloodline, he, as the one who had read so many web novels, thought he would be able to fulfill his teenage years fantasies.
But what he meant by all the heroes—awakening strong dragon bloodlines, Archangel, and even the war god's bloodlines that were of more than 98% purity, unlike his incubus bloodline which was of 60% purity.
Forget about him becoming strong.
He had been constantly suppressed.
His pheromones and all abilities were literally like insects in front of the behemoths of those other heroes who had awakened so much stronger potential.
He was like a clown, kept in the hero party just because he was smart enough.
No, it was not that he was smart enough; it was just that others were stupid fools who could not even see that everything about this war was strange from the start.
"Doesn't matter... I will survive at least—"
He who had already planned a way to survive this demon war was just taking a breath, closing his zip before suddenly hearing a sound.
A sound that would have been something he waited for all these years to come but lost in some teenager's worthless imagination.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
[INCUBUS DOMINATION SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[WELCOME, RAVEN LUSTRE]
[CURRENT STATUS: STRATEGIC GENIUS, SOCIAL PARIAH, WEAKEST HERO]