The Primal Blood Demonic Dragon
Chapter 86: Cht 86: Only Last Option

Chapter 86: Cht 86: Only Last Option

Still absorbed in their own world none of both made any response to any of his calling until his last one.

Gin or urf the wolf stopped growling seeing none really having any slightest of response.

He is still outside of their canopy so it is possible that the canopy is acting as a barrier to stop the sounds from flowing inside.

For last time he howled loud enough for the sound to even reach far distant, the engaged beasts. Some trees even shook from sound wave, surroundings became slight heavier from the moment of pressure.

Yet no living had any different reaction to his roar.

He didn’t focus that far for the moment. Lucy-Saira canopy is silent as well as Xingning-Jean canopy. They are engaged in their own world of passion, not getting distracted from any second matter.

He looked at sideways to canopy of Alice and that also silent from outside just like other two. Resting peacefully inside with her eyes closed.

Now with mostly sure that they can’t hear any of the sound from outside he stopped hesitating and stepped forward while muttering ’Whatever happens will happen, now only priority is to make them understand that what they are doing is not from their own volition.’

Curtains of vines moved to sides as the wolf head emerged from outside.

He stood in that awful silence for a moment.

The thick green curtain rustled as he pushed through with one powerful paw, brushing aside the vines that had sealed away whatever was happening inside. The subtle friction of vine against fur felt oddly loud in the absence of any ambient noise other than gud gud sound of compact fluids mixing. He pushed the second paw through, then the third and fourth and as his full form crossed the boundary, the scene greeted him in unflinching clarity.

And this time, with his own wolfish eyes he saw everything high definition, fully HD quality view. no distortion. His spiritual sense, while effective, had been a soft blur compared to this just like a live show transmitted to a screen. Now he could see every shimmer of moisture, every trembling thread of movement, every etched line of tension in their bodies. Lucy’s face flushed, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling in time with Saira’s motions who moved her bottom opposite her with undivided focus, their bodies locked in that same unnatural rhythm he had seen through spiritual projector.

The primal beauty of their forms might have made him enjoy in different circumstances, but now this situation filled him with dread. But still their forms now, their activity of vent would forever be an eye candy for him. If he wants he can keep his gaze upon them forever for eternity, the way they are now entangled with each other.

They didn’t look up.

They didn’t blink.

They didn’t stop.

Gin paced forward slowly, each step padded and measured, paws gliding over the forest floor. He made no effort to hide his approach the soft rasp of paw against ground, the shift of soil under his weight, the inevitable sounds of presence he allowed them all. Let them hear. Let them see. Let them, WAKE UP TO REALITY!

But they didn’t. Not even when he stood right behind Saira.

Not even when he could feel the heat of her body in the air, when the edge of her long, wavy hair brushed against the top of his snout and drenching them with her scent.

Still, no change.

No awareness.

Nothing.

His wolfish eyes narrowed. Breath shallow, he lifted one paw his front right, strong and steady and nudged Saira from behind, applying the pressure of a focused tap. Enough to jolt someone’s awareness. Enough to earn a startled gasp or at least a startled glance.

But she didn’t stir.

Her balance remained absolute, her rhythm unbroken. Her arms never faltered in their position one braced behind her supporting her body weight, one on her mouth and her hips moved with a consistency that chilled him. It was too perfect. No tremble, no irregularity, no stray flicker of distraction.

Gin blinked, heart hammering harder than before, and tried again this time adding more strength behind the contact, pressing forward with the sturdy intent of shifting her motion of movement. Still, nothing.

With a grunt, low and frustrated, he braced all four paws and pushed more deliberately. This time the nudge wasn’t subtle. It was forceful. An unmistakable shove.

Still. She did not move.

Her body continued as if he wasn’t there, like his paw was pressing against a statue carved into the very ground itself.

What kind of energy bound her?

He took a step back, shook his head in disbelief, then tried again paw thudding against her side with a burst of strength that should’ve thrown her to the side or at least jarred her torso.

Yet... nothing.

No shift. No sway. No reaction.

Panic crept into his chest, winding up into his throat. He growled this time, directly into Saira’s ear, forcing it out with volume he hadn’t used since the earlier howl.

She didn’t even blink.

Gin backed away in disbelief, staring, fur rising with something colder than fear. Then his gaze darted to Lucy moving opposite Saira, her expression locked in a haze of bliss, her body caught in the same sensual rhythm.

He moved.

Circling to Lucy’s side, he lowered his head and gently touched her side with his paw. A single press, careful but insistent.

No response.

He gritted his teeth, eyes wide, then pushed harder repeating the same process he had with Saira, applying more and more pressure. Muscles coiled beneath his silver-blue coat. His paw pressed against Lucy’s hip with enough power to shift a boulder.

And she didn’t move. Not even a millimeter.

She wasn’t being stubborn or unaware. She was unmovable.

His strength had been enough to collapse tree trunks, shatter bones, drag entire beasts by the tail and here it made no difference. Not on her. Not even when he struck the ground beside her in frustration, gouging a deep hole into the forest floor.

They remained.

Unhearing.

Untouched by him.

Yet in constant rhythm of their own movement.

Gin’s limbs trembled as he stumbled back, his breath fast and shallow. He looked at them once more. Both Saira and Lucy, trapped in that unceasing intimacy, flowing like dancers to a soundless beat.

It was too right. Too perfect. Too complete.

And none of it stopped. Not for him. Not for his full strength. Not for the way he was snarling now, pacing backward in retreat, horrified and unable to make sense of the reality around him.

He turned and burst through the vines, leaving that their entangled space behind, fur slick with sweat and breath ragged with panic.

The moment he emerged, his gaze locked onto the side where the curtain around Xingning and Jean pulsed gently with the same rhythm. Still untouched. Still unbroken.

He sprinted.

The ground tore beneath his paws as he bolted toward their canopy, his mind racing with questions, his gut boiling with dread. Maybe it wasn’t the same. Maybe they would respond.

He didn’t slow when he reached the curtain, he tore through it with brute force, vines snapping around him as he pushed through into the depths of the canopy.

And there they were.

Xingning arched opposite Jean, her juices leaking down her slit in flowing waves wetting further their connected soaked link. Her jade-toned skin shimmered with a light mist of exertion, while Jean lay opposite her, muscles tense beneath her bark-textured skin. Her large viny limbs braced gently around her own behind on ground, her expression rapt, utterly absorbed. She didn’t have the need to place her hand on her mouth to moan from leaking out.

Rhythm. Again. The same hauntingly synchronized, unwavering motion.

Gin skidded to a halt in the middle of the space, panting, his breath fogging the air. His eyes darted between them again stunned by the vivid, intense clarity with which he now saw everything. Live HD show but not on any screen like his spiritual broadcast.

Their bodies were alive sweating, breathing, responding but not to him. Not to anything outside of each other.

’Xingning!’ his howl burst out, not as a actual howl this time but a guttural call wrenched from his core. Still he could only call her name in his head as he won’t just miraculously lear to talk through his wolfish mouth.

Nothing.

No flinch. No hesitation.

He moved in immediately and leapt toward her side, landing just beside them. He reached out a paw and struck the earth beside her not to hurt but to send a tremor. Jean may’ve responded to even a subtle provocation in any other context. But now?

Not even a blink.

He pushed his paw against Xingning’s leg, first softly, then with deliberate force. Her skin felt warm, firm, responsive to pressure but her balance of rhythms was locked in place.

No shift.

No pause.

Not even a hiccup in her movement.

’Jean...’ Gin growled again, trying to call her name through their connection if she still had any, jaw trembling as he pushed with greater intensity against Xingning’s side now while calling in his head ’Jean! Wake up!’

Still nothing.

His other paw slammed into Jean’s chest, testing. Then again, harder. The her bark-hardened torso remained undisturbed.

It was as if the very laws of the physical world had been rewritten within these walls, none of his force carried consequence. No amount of his strength made a difference.

Gin leapt back again, fur bristling in horror. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. This was worse than any corrupted beast or unpredictable storm. This was worse than losing consciousness, worse than soul transfered again.

It was being erased.

Erased from their perception.

They had become closed circuits, loops of primal instinct bound together in some unknown cycle. He was outside it. Worse he was irrelevant to it.

He stood still now, in the center of the canopy, chest heaving, watching them move. No pain in their expressions. No fear. No awareness of the outside.

And no will to stop.

Why? the thought thundered in his skull. How can none of them wake up?

Then a more sinister possibility began to whisper in his mind.

What if this wasn’t just hypnosis or corruption?

What if it was a binding?

What if some external force had tapped into the very source of their core energy and overwritten it, hijacked their instinctive needs, amplified their mating cycles, and drowned all other senses until nothing remained but this relentless rhythm of fluid spray?

He growled low, turning to leave again.

One last option remained.

Alice.

She hadn’t moved. She hadn’t joined in. Maybe...

Maybe she was the key.

Without another second wasted, Gin surged out of the canopy and bounded toward the distant clearing where Alice had lain unmoving beneath the pale canopy of vines and moss, her delicate aura still faintly visible.

The last chance to make sense of this.

The last soul who might still be awake.

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To Be Continued.