A flash of green light enveloped him.

It was instantaneous.

The sharp agony in his ribs vanished as bone knit back together with a wet 'snap'. The throbbing in his shoulder ceased as flesh sealed over muscle. The bruises fading from purple to nonexistent in the blink of an eye.

Viktor stood there, gasping, his body perfectly restored to the condition it was in before the first blow.

But his legs... his legs were still shaking. His lungs burned as if he'd just run a marathon.

He blinked, looking down at his hands. They were trembling. Not from pain, but from sheer exhaustion.

"Why..." Viktor wheezed, wiping the phantom blood from his mouth. "Why isn't my stamina recovered?"

[Clarification: Dungeon Recovery protocols restore physical damage inflicted by Tower entities.]

[Stamina depletion caused by Host's self-activation of abilities (Speed Acceleration, Ultra Instinct) is internal expenditure.]

[System does not refund energy spent by the user.]

Viktor stared at the floating blue text.

"You..."

He blinked.

"You cheap bastard."

It made sense. Cruel, logical sense. The tower would fix what 'it' broke, but it wouldn't fix what 'he' spent trying not to break. If he wanted to keep fighting—to actually learn how to beat this wooden nightmare—he needed fuel.

And he was running on fumes.

Viktor stood there, chest heaving, realizing the flaw in his "fight forever" plan. He could be healed a thousand times, but if he passed out from exhaustion, the training was over.

He needed a battery.

He needed a recharge.

Slowly, Viktor turned his head.

Elara was standing near the entrance, still frozen in shock. Her amber eyes were wide, taking in his miraculous healing, her hand trembling near her mouth. She looked terrified, confused, and...

Viktor's gaze dropped lower.

To her chest.

To the soft, rising and falling mounds hidden beneath her noble clothing.

And then lower, to the curve of her hips.

He blinked again. The exhaustion in his brain suddenly cleared, replaced by a very different kind of clarity.

Why was he worried about stamina?

He had a mobile charging station standing right there.

Elara saw him turn. She saw the way his dark eyes—void-like and terrifying moments ago—suddenly focused on her with a sharp, predatory intensity.

"Y-Young Lord?" she stammered, taking a small step back. "You... are you alri—"

Viktor didn't answer immediately. He just stared at her, his face completely blank, devoid of any emotion other than pure, pragmatic calculation.

Then he spoke.

"Can I insert my tail inside you for a second?"

Elara froze.

Her brain seemed to short-circuit. The words hung in the air between them, crude and direct and utterly insane given that he had been coughing up blood five seconds ago.

She stared at him. Then at the thick, black tail swaying lazily behind him—the one ending in that wicked purple spade shape.

"HAHHH!?"

Her scream cracked, echoing off the high ceiling of the dungeon floor. Her face went from pale to violent crimson in a heartbeat. "W-w-what kind of— You just— You were dying! And now you want to—!?"

Viktor didn't blink. "I need stamina. You have a pussy. It's a simple exchange."

"IT IS NOT A SIMPLE EXCHANGE!" Elara shrieked, stumbling backward until her back hit the cold stone wall. She looked like she wanted to melt into the bricks. "You... you pervert! You absolute degenerate! We are in a dungeo—N-NO! THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUESTION HERE!"

She pointed a shaking finger at him while trembling as if he was going to show his true face.

"Sigh," Viktor said, turning back as get to meet dissapoontment. He rolled his neck, working out the stiffness that the healing light hadn't quite fixed.

"I already promised you, fine, I will just call one of my wives," Viktor said, waving his hand dismissively as he turned away from Elara completely.

Elara blinked, her defensive posture faltering as if a bit... "W-wait, you're just... giving up?"

Viktor didn't even look at her. He was already mentally sorting through his options, muttering aloud as he paced.

"Helena is already exhausted... poor thing was screaming my name for hours." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Kaida and Bella should be practicing right now—Kaida was supposed to train her, not kill her." He paused, considering. "And Mira... hm?"

His eyes glazed over slightly, focusing inward as he activated the telepathic harem network—one of the custom abilities he'd created using Goddess Claps.

//What are you all doing?// he sent through the mental link.

One after another, voices bloomed in his mind.

Bella's came first, breathless and strained. "Young Lord... I'm getting beaten..."

Kaida's snapped immediately after, defensive and sharp. "Stop! There is NOTHING going on here!"

Then Mira's voice, calm and amused. "Toby and I are watching the fight. For like... what... five, six hours now?"

Viktor froze mid-step.

Five... six hours?

His brain did the math instantly. He'd fucked Helena for maybe in the dungeon for... what, five? Maybe six if you counted the time which he forgot as just how delicious Helena exactly was.

Wait.

Mira wasn't talking about Kaida and Bella's sparring session.

She was talking about him and Helena.

Oh.

Viktor's eye twitched. //So you talked to Helena?//

Mira's mental voice came back with a teasing lilt. "I tried, but she didn't reply. I knew what was happening."

There was a pause, then she added, her tone dropping lower, almost sultry. "And given our sensations are kind of linked... I felt she was in ecstasy. Made me feel a bit horny, honestly."

Viktor chuckled aloud, the sound echoing in the empty dungeon chamber. Behind him, Elara stiffened, confused and alarmed by his sudden shift in mood.

//Can you come? Beside me?// Viktor sent back, grinning now.

Mira's response was immediate and playful. "Come on, darling, you just had Helena as your breakfast. Are you going to eat me too?"

Viktor's grin widened. //Can I not?//

There was a beat of silence.

Then Mira's voice, directed not at him but at Kaida through the network. "Kaida, take care of Toby. And stop bullying Bella."

"WHOM AM I BULLYING?!" Kaida's outraged shout blasted through the mental link loud enough to make Viktor wince.

Before he could respond—

WHOOSH.

A gust of wind exploded into the chamber.

Viktor barely had time to blink before Mira materialized beside him, stumbling slightly as the Instant Recall teleportation deposited her directly at his location.

She blinked, disoriented for half a second, her dark hair whipping around her face from the displaced air. Her green eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the dungeon floor, scanning the black stone walls, the motionless wooden dolls, the imposing wooden knight standing sentinel in the center.

"Wow," Mira breathed, her voice filled with genuine awe. "Is this the place? The tower you were talking about?"

Viktor turned slowly, his hand moving with deliberate casualness toward her waist. His fingers found the curve of her hip and pulled, drawing her body flush against his.

Her massive tits pressed against his chest—soft, heavy, yielding. Even through the fabric of her clothing, he could feel their warmth, the way they molded around him.

He looked down at her, smiling. "I need a bit of stamina."

Mira's lips curved into a knowing smile, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you want to kiss?"

Viktor tilted his head, pretending to consider. "It depends. Though I would like it if you gave me a bit of milk too."

Mira chuckled—a low, throaty sound that sent heat straight to his groin. "Always so greedy."

She completely ignored Elara, who stood frozen against the wall, amber eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

Mira's hands moved with practiced ease. She reached up to her cleavage, fingers hooking into the neckline of her dress, and pulled.

The fabric stretched, then gave way, exposing her left breast.

It was enormous.

The heavy mound spilled free, pale skin marked with faint green veins that traced delicate patterns across the surface. Her nipple—dark pink and obscenely long, at least an inch—stood erect, already glistening with moisture.

Mira's hand moved to cup the underside of her breast, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, squeezing gently.

Milk beaded at the tip of her nipple, then leaked in thin streams down the curve of her breast, dripping between her fingers.

"Then drink as much as you want... but be gentle not to bite them as I am sensitive down there." Mira whispered, her voice dropping into a sultry purr.

She lifted the heavy breast upward, pressing it toward his face, her other hand moving to the back of his head, fingers threading through his dark hair.

"...Darling~~"

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