Chapter 45
His arms had already turned pitch-black. His skin no longer felt human—touching it was like touching solid stone.
“Alnazir.”
Terrified, Fay called his name. The pressure in her abdomen was reaching its limit. Both his c**k and his tentacle continued to swell inside her.
Soon they would grow beyond what she could endure. Even as she thought it, the expansion didn’t stop.
Her belly visibly bulged outward. It felt like it might burst at any moment. This wasn’t exaggeration—this was real danger. The most frightening part was that there was pressure, but no pain at all.
Panicking, Fay cried out again.
“Alnazir! I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but stop—please, stop!”
Thankfully, her voice reached him. The ominous golden glow in his eyes flickered. As awareness returned, what was inside her slowly began to shrink.
“I almost reverted to my original form.”
“W-what were you trying to do to me…?”
Completely shaken, Fay asked. Alnazir paused for a moment, then smiled faintly and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Without answering, he resumed moving.
He had nearly lost himself and killed her. If Fay realized that, she’d panic and insist on stopping everything right here.
Well, he could always soothe her and continue later. It wasn’t a serious problem, as far as he was concerned.
The real issue was the desire that had begun to take root in his mind.
He knew her body wouldn’t endure it. He knew that very well. And yet the reason he’d almost returned to his true form was simple—he’d wanted to make her bear his child.
Conception between a human and himself shouldn’t even be possible. And yet, for a brief instant, he’d truly wanted it.
“Is there really no way to make her bear one…?”
The thought slipped out aloud, barely more than a mutter. But Fay heard it.
“W-what did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
He pretended to be ignorant about it, but Fay wasn’t fooled.
“You—you were trying to get me pregnant! Let go—no, not that! That’s the one thing you can’t do!”
Summoning strength she didn’t have, Fay struggled desperately. Her resistance made Alnazir frown.
“Why not?”
“Why not?!”
“Do you find me unacceptable as a father?”
It felt like an accusation of him being inadequate, and that irritated him. What could he possibly lack? His body was perfect, he was immortal, and he ruled an entire world.
Wasn’t that far more than any human deserved?
He glared at her sharply—but Fay didn’t back down.
“Would your child be born human?”
“Human? No.”
“Exactly! It’d be some mix of octopus or jellyfish or something we don’t even understand!”
“We won’t know what it is until it’s born.”
Destruction was his specialty, not creation. He wasn’t a god of making things. Every creature in his world had been a coincidence shaped by environment, not design.
When he shook his head to show he didn’t know, Fay let out a shrill scream.
“That’s terrifying! Giving birth to something whose nature we can’t even define!”
She softened her words, but in her mind, the word monster wouldn’t leave her. Something part human, part unknowable. It was bound to be grotesque.
She did take contraceptives she’d made herself, but she couldn’t be sure they were foolproof. They were meant for humans, who knew if they worked on invokeds?
If only there were contraceptives for invokeds. No book she’d ever read mentioned anything like that.
“And even if I did get pregnant—could I even survive giving birth?”
Alnazir’s frown faltered. She wasn’t wrong.
“Your life would likely be in danger during childbirth.”
Even without experience, the conclusion wasn’t hard to guess. He couldn’t imagine Fay surviving the birth of his bloodline.
Her body was already as fragile as glass. She could barely endure weakened tentacles. His true form’s touch alone could melt flesh.
And it wasn’t just childbirth. Carrying the child for months would put her at constant risk of death.
And beyond that—children were meant to inherit something.
But what could he pass down? Even if the child was half human and therefore less great, it still wouldn’t be human. It would have to rule something.
Yet Alnazir had no intention of handing over his world or stepping aside.
Humans passed things on because they weakened and died. He never would.
The dormant instinct to reproduce cooled rapidly.
The more he thought about it, the more children sounded like an incredible nuisance.
“…No. A child won’t do.”
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