The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

“Livestock…livestock breeding?!” Edgar nearly choked on his breath, his face turning green.

Some of the bishops behind him gasped in shock.

The sacred ritual of pleasure they pursued throughout their lives was described by the summoned succubus as... animal breeding?!

“That’s right!” Kappa seemed to have found theoretical support and spoke even more enthusiastically, his heart-shaped pupils flashing with a “you’re so outdated” light. “True pleasure should be a resonance of souls, a sublimation of emotions! It needs foreplay… oh no, it needs build-up! It needs to create an atmosphere! Don’t you understand candlelight dinners? Don’t you understand sweet talk? Don’t you understand love letters? Going straight to the point is too barbaric! Too vulgar! It doesn’t meet the aesthetic standards of our new era of succubi at all!”

The entire altar plaza fell into a deathly silence. Only the rustling of Kappa's fabric and her slightly agitated breathing could be heard. The cultists stared, mouths agape, eyes vacant, as if their worldviews were undergoing a devastating collapse. The one they had summoned didn't seem to be a succubus bringing ecstasy and depravity, but rather… a conservatively dressed heretic, spouting tales of "spiritual communion" and "candlelight dinners"?

Bishop Edgar's temples throbbed; he felt the very foundations of his faith crumble. Looking at the round, fully clothed succubus on the altar, spouting tales of "elegant seduction" and "soul resonance," he felt, for the first time in his life, a profound and absurd doubt about his own ritual.

He forced down his surging emotions, his voice strained with feigned calm, even a little hoarse: "My Lord... your insights are truly... groundbreaking." He struggled to find the words, "However, according to the sacred procedures of the ritual, we have carefully selected for you the strongest and most devout believers, who will have the honor of engaging in the most intimate 'soul union'... uh... 'sublimation'... to please the supreme Lord of Pleasure."

He deliberately used the words that Cappa had just mentioned in an attempt to make the process sound a little more "elegant".

To everyone's surprise, Capa's reaction was even more intense than before.

"What?! You want me to do it myself?!" The succubus, wrapped in cloth, let out a sharp, defiant scream, her round body jerking back so hard she almost tumbled off the edge of the altar. "No! Absolutely not! I'm a succubus of principles! I... I only accept one-on-one exchanges based on deep affection and purely spiritual connection! This... this kind of group activity is too unhygienic! Too unhealthy! And this outfit is brand new, what if I wrinkle it?! What if I get it dirty?! Don't you have any sense of public decency?!"

“Principles? Spiritual level? Hygiene? Clothes?!” Archbishop Edgar was completely petrified. Looking at the succubus before him, who seemed to be possessed by a chaste and virtuous woman (though wrapped in cloth like a ball), and who denounced the “pleasure ritual” as an “unhygienic collective activity,” an unprecedented sense of powerlessness and absurdity overwhelmed him.

What went wrong with this summoning ritual?! When did the succubus in the Netherworld Prison become like this?! Could it be that the doctrines of the Lord of Pleasure... have evolved (or degenerated) to this extent outside the Prime Material Plane?!

On the altar, Capa tried to shrink himself into an even tighter ball, revealing only his wary, heart-shaped pupils, as if he were about to face some monstrous flood.

Beneath the altar, the entire faction of lust and pleasure, led by Bishop Edgar, fell into a collective silence and disarray in the wind after the collapse of their faith.

Time ticked by in this bizarre standoff, and Kapa silently prayed: "Lord Shadow, please hurry up! If you don't come soon, these cultists are going to be driven mad by me!"

"Pfft..."

Laughter seemed to come from nearby.

The deathly silence on the altar was replaced by an invisible, tense pressure.

Capa's shocking remarks about "hygiene" and "clothing" struck Archbishop Edgar More like a series of heavy blows to his nerves.

The respect on his face was like a cheap mask, cracking inch by inch until it finally peeled away completely, revealing a pale, distorted face beneath, twisted by a mixture of desecration of faith and intense absurdity.

He took a deep breath, the air of which seemed to carry the smell of sulfur, and his chest heaved violently.

The dignity of being a ninth-tier powerhouse and the highest representative of the Lord of Pleasure in the mortal world, as well as the anger of being publicly humiliated by a "heretic succubus," finally overwhelmed the last remaining reverence for the identity of "fellowship."

"Enough!" Edgar's voice was no longer respectful, but like the friction of ice, carrying an undeniable pressure that instantly drowned out all the whispers and rustling of fabric on the altar.

He took a sudden step forward, and the terrifying aura of a ninth-level expert erupted from his body without reservation, like a tangible wave that almost suffocated the bishop and ordinary believers behind him, who all knelt on the ground, trembling.

Kappa's body, wrapped in the cloth ball, stiffened visibly, its exposed heart-shaped pupils narrowed warily, and the tip of its tail stiffened uneasily.

She could feel the oppressive and icy rage of the mental force that was locking onto her.

“My Lord,” Edgar’s voice was icy cold, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, “we tolerate your…heretical pronouncements only because we respect you as the messenger of the Lord of Pleasure. But rituals are sacred and inviolable! The will of the Lord of Pleasure is not to be questioned! Nor is it to be…played with!” He practically roared the last two words.

He raised his hand, no longer seeking consent, but pointing in an almost commanding tone to the group of robust male cultists below the altar, who had been specially selected and were now trembling with fear and excitement: "The ritual must be completed! They are offerings to you, and also the means to please our Lord! Now, immediately, unite with them! This is a command! It is the will of the Lord of Pleasure!"

As he finished speaking, the four eighth-level bishops stepped forward simultaneously, forming a subtle encirclement. Their powerful mental energy fields intertwined, firmly sealing off the entire altar and eliminating any possibility of escape.

Their expressions were equally cold and resolute. Clearly, the archbishop's attitude represented the attitude of the entire sect—no matter how strange the succubus was, the ritual had to be completed!

“No! I refuse! This is forced buying and selling! It’s…it’s…it’s outrageous!” Kappa’s voice was filled with obvious panic and anger. Her round body twisted and rolled futilely on the altar, trying to get away from the cultists who were pointing at her. “I said no, and that’s final! Can’t you understand succubus language?! Forced marriages are never sweet! You’re going against the will of a succubus! You’re violating the freedom of a succubus! Lord Rast will punish you if he finds out!”