Morgana: The Mother Of All

Chapter 177: Not Even A Single Scream



Chapter 177: Not Even A Single Scream

WHIP! WHIP!

"Humph!"

WHIP!

"Humph!"

WHIP!

"C-Can't... you at least... Humph!... scream?"

"..."

WHIP!

"Fuck it... I'm tired of this," the demon governor shook his head, disappointed. The whip fell to the bloody floor, splashing a little blood and other bodily fluids. Dragging his tired feet, he slumped on the table and stared blankly at me, hanging on the hooks, with a big fat belly.

"Sigh... it's a shame," the demon sighed, taking a deep breath and looking at my belly which was still a bit bigger than normal.

"It would be my loss if I allowed a creature like you to die," the demon shook his head and waved his hands at the other demons that were present in the room.

"Just one scream, woman, just one, and I'll make all of this go away," the demon said, standing up and slowly walking towards me. The demon stopped inches away from me and brought his ugly face close.

"Come on, think about it. You gave me so many daughters, and I'm ready to let you go," the demon's breath was hot, and the smell of meat and alcohol filled the air around us. "One scream, and I'm ready to take you as my wife."

"..."

"It would be a waste if you die," he said, placing a hand on my cheek and lifting my head up, staring at what used to be my beautiful face. "You're a treasure to me, to us, demons. No matter how many times you give birth, your womb is still able to give birth to more demons."

"..."

"Think about it," the demon whispered, bringing his face closer. "One scream and it would all go away."

"I..." Slowly, I opened my mouth, making the demon's eyes glow brightly, hoping for the thing he was desperate for, yet the thing I was going to say or do was not what he was expecting.

Splash!

"!!!" The demon's face twisted, the shock, anger, and disbelief clearly written on his face. The blood and saliva from my mouth covered his right eye and cheek. His amber eyes trembled, not believing what was happening and not wanting to believe that he, a powerful demon, the governor of the mining city, was spat on by a mere human.

"Y-you....." The demon's body trembled, shaking violently. His fists were clenched so tightly that blood dripped from his palms, and his face was a mask of rage.

"Y-YOU BITCH!!" He was about to punch me in the stomach. However, he held himself back at the last second, fearing that he would kill the demons growing inside me.

"Sigh... heal her and put her back in the cage," he ordered before leaving the room. The five demons that were with him nodded, and without wasting a moment, two of them approached me and began casting healing spells on me while the other three went behind me, pushing what was my home for a long time.

The Iron Maiden.

A custom-made coffin-shaped torture device made by the best blacksmith in the city, or to be more specific, the worst demon blacksmith to me.

The Iron Maiden was an iron box with a sharp, spike-filled interior. The victim is locked into the device; the spikes penetrate the body and cause a slow, painful death. The only way to stop the torture is to open the device and release the person inside.

That's the normal version of this device. Mine was a little different.

Two arms were added to the device just to make sure that no matter what, the hooks stayed buried in my body, not allowing me to move an inch.

Because one time, when the demon was breeding me after he finished with this torture, one of the hooks on my right arm somehow managed to fall out due to his rough thrusting. The demon was so focused on breeding me that he didn't even have time to react to my surprise attack. As a result, I managed to chop his right leg after I changed my right arm to the bladed one from my spider form.

The guards interfered, hooking me back before I had the chance to chop more of him. It was a small victory, but it was still a victory, and I was happy with it.

Another big change to my Iron Maiden was the absence of spikes in my stomach area, as well as my entire lower body being outside the torture device. The reason was simple: so I could give birth and get pregnant without the demons risking killing my kids.

"Hey, are you done?" the demon guard said, pushing the Iron Maiden behind me. The two demon healers finished healing my body, leaving no scars except for the ones from the hooks, they nodded, and left the room, leaving me with the remaining three.

"How much longer do we have to wait?" one of them said with fury after he made sure that the healers were gone. "How much do we have to endure this?"

"Patience, brother. We have waited this long," the other said, placing a hand on the shoulder of the first. "Moreover, it's not our decision."

"Right?" The demon turned, facing me with a sad smile on his face. "Mother."

.......

For two thousand, three hundred and forty-three days (2,343), I was stuck in this hellhole with the same routine, the same torture, the same begging for screams, the same rape, breeding, and giving birth.

Every day was hell, every day was pain and misery. I couldn't even tell how many days had passed; I only counted how many torture sessions by the governor, and based on the time it took for me to give birth, I roughly guessed the number of days. However, I'm absolutely sure that I made a mistake.

My brain was broken and shattered, and I couldn't think anymore. My body was broken and shattered, and I couldn't move anymore. The only thing keeping me alive was the small life forms in my belly, my children, the fact that I was on trial, and the pure hatred I felt towards the demons.

I hated them, every single one of them. Their touch, their voice, their smell—everything about them made me sick.

When the governor found out that I could give birth to more than ten demons in less than 24 hours, and all the demons I gave birth to were futas and females, he fully took advantage of my ability, making sure to impregnate me after every torture session.

At first, the demon tortured me to find out what kind of monster I was. He pulled out my nails and teeth one by one after I bit his neck when he got too close to me. One of his favorite sick things was to literally skin my arms, legs, back, and chest. Then he would take the flesh and eat it raw in front of me, forcing me to watch him devour my own skin before calling his healer to grow my skin back so he could do it again.

He also developed an addiction to my blood. It started as a disturbing act of him licking my arms, legs, and chest after he removed my skin, but it quickly devolved to the point that he would impale me with long metal pipes just to collect my blood for him and his guards to drink.

However, the demon was unable to learn anything about me. No matter what he did, he couldn't get a single scream out of my mouth, for I never yelled. I would never give him the satisfaction of hearing my scream. I even did the extreme and used the last bit of mana I had to modify my throat, completely removing my vocal cords, and turning myself into a mute.

I endured, I survived, and I'll keep on surviving no matter what—not just for myself, not just for the future me, but for the life forms that were growing inside me. My children, slowly began to take control of this city.

Do the math. I've been stuck here for over six years—based on my counting—and I gave birth to at least ten demons a day. So at the minimum, I have 23,430 demon daughters in this city, and there's no doubt they have children and grandchildren, like the three guards who were my grandsons.

The governor was an idiot. The more I gave birth, the stronger I became. Not only did I gain levels and stats, but I was also gaining loyal soldiers ready to be unleashed at my command. However, the time to strike has not yet come.

I was still weak, too weak to fight back. And even if I could, there was no need—my daughters were already moving behind the scenes. The only reason I remained here was to gather more demons for the army, and the other was the governor. The more time I spent here enduring his torture, the more powerful my blood magic became.

It's strange, you know. The more blood was shed, the stronger the blood magic got. I could even use a fraction of my blood magic under the effect of the slave collar. Because of this, I gained the ability to influence the demon governor using the blood he drank from me.

The process was slow as fuck. The demon's will was strong, and it was a real challenge to influence his mind. I would have failed if it wasn't for his addiction and his love for me. These two factors were the keys, and slowly, over the years, I managed to get him under my thumb, making him think that everything was his decision and that the torture was all a test for me.

Now all I needed was a single moment—a split second for his will to shake a little—and his entire existence would be mine.

Mine to rule, and mine to command.

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