While My Mage Wife Grinds, I Power Up Idly
Chapter 133: Pay Me Three Days’ Worth of Food

Chapter 133: Chapter 133: Pay Me Three Days’ Worth of Food

Very soon, Ashu finished charging his lightning and struck the ground with a ferocious bolt—but the lightning always veered off course the moment it neared Lilith, or subtly disrupted Isabella’s attack trajectory, keeping the fight balanced in a delicate equilibrium.

"Ashu! Stop attacking for now!" Isabella yelled, irritated by the interference from the lightning.

That being the case, he now had a perfectly legitimate reason to hover nearby and spectate.

Isabella continued giving it her all in a fight against a swirling mist. Fortunately, the system’s refunds started at tenfold—otherwise, after his recent round of "friendly fire," Isabella’s multiplier surely would have dropped.

[Isabella·Atras has gained: Anti-Demonic Special Operations Force +2]

[Critical Return! Vessel has gained: Anti-Demonic Special Operations Force +20]

The same string of data continued flowing in, gradually accumulating like a flood.

Ashu could clearly feel a terrifying power swelling in his muscles, burning with warmth. His body, already intensified tenfold by his Bloodline, was evolving toward something superhuman.

As the battle raged on and the system kept refunding, faint golden patterns began surfacing beneath his skin. These markings aligned with his veins, as though he were undergoing some mysterious Michaelite rite.

The two girls fought until noon.

The blazing sun turned the battlefield into a white-hot purgatory. Though the peak of summer had passed, Isabella still burned like a miniature sun.

The longer she fought, the more fiercely she burned, the brighter she shone.

After several hours of combat, there was no intact structure left within the town—aside from the collapsed Church, everything else had been reduced to rubble.

What was once a romantic little town now resembled a giant sandbox model.

By the time the battle had dragged on for hours, Isabella’s battle lance was riddled with web-like cracks. Every swing made it groan under the strain. Sweat soaked her clothes, her hair clung to her flushed cheeks, and her labored breathing was laced with stubborn defiance.

She looked down at her damaged battle lance, frustration welling up within her.

From childhood to now, her innate monstrous strength had destroyed countless weapons—many of which had been treasured swords and relics awarded to her by her father, the King.

But this lance in her hands was already the most advanced weapon from the Imperial armory.

She had never cared about the weapon’s form—sword, saber, axe, halberd, spear—so long as it could be used, she used it.

Unfortunately, even this highest-grade lance had finally reached its limit.

And yet, she still hadn’t slain the strange, mist-shrouded Demon.

In fact, she hadn’t even seen the Greater Demon’s true form—she had been battling nothing but mist this whole time, unable to even break through it to finish off the incapacitated Shava.

The sense of powerlessness and shame soaked the heart of this Michael Divine Chosen.

However, from Ashu’s perspective:

The edges of Lilith’s wings had already blackened with scorched cracks. Amid her panting, there remained a bewitching undertone in her voice. Her black battle armor was damaged in several places, revealing large patches of pale, battle-scarred skin.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, yet her gaze remained provocatively fixed on Ashu, as if silently keeping a tab on him.

Seeing Isabella launch another attack, she quickly came back to her senses, flicked her fingertips, and a violet arcane blade sliced through the air, clashing with Isabella’s war halberd and unleashing a violent shockwave.

Ashu noticed both women were in poor condition. If this continued, things might spiral out of control. He immediately spoke up, "Your Highness the Imperial Princess, let’s call a temporary truce! Continuing like this is unwise! This Demon is merely fighting a desperate battle, while we have the advantage of conserving strength!"

Although she didn’t understand Ashu’s choice of words, Isabella thought it sounded impressive. It was that classic case of "I don’t understand it, but it must be powerful."

After striking once more, she quickly retreated a few steps, leaned against a broken wall to catch her breath, and the glow around her began to dim. Her exhausted body could barely stay upright.

Ashu quickly activated the Reaper’s Eye to check on her, and only then did he realize that as the light dimmed, Isabella’s body had sustained extensive burns. Her vital signs were rapidly dropping.

"Could it be that the brighter she glowed in battle, the more it was a power-enhancing secret art?"

Typically, secret arts that enhanced power out of thin air came with a cost. Like "Forbidden Sacrifice," for example.

Fortunately, Isabella’s secret art came at a relatively minor price.

Under the observation of the Reaper’s Eye, once her life force dipped to a certain level, it stabilized.

Then, her body, rich in vitality, began to heal itself rapidly.

The burns on her skin were visibly recovering at a speed visible to the naked eye. The newly regenerated skin was as pale as snow.

Meanwhile.

Lilith leaned against a crumbling wall, her posture provocatively aimed at Ashu, eyes gleaming with a Lust that only the two of them could understand.

Though it appeared to be a fierce battle between two women, in Ashu’s eyes, Lilith had never stopped seducing him.

Ashu maintained a composed expression, keeping up the appearance of a righteous man, and swiftly descended toward Imperial Princess Isabella.

He supported the Imperial Princess—her skin was abnormally hot. "Your Highness, we need to withdraw for now!"

The usually stubborn Isabella didn’t say a word, nor did she protest, letting Ashu guide her as they quickly exited Rose Valley. For the first time, she’d taken a hit—despite the draw, she still felt like she’d lost. After all, she’d always had a perfect win record since childhood.

...

Under countless watching eyes, Ashu carried Imperial Princess Isabella out from the ruins.

As soon as they exited the Demon-occupied area, two Clerics in long robes approached to receive them.

Clearly.

The Imperial Capital had already realized that the Imperial Princess had fled, and had sent a professional logistics team in response.

"Get lost." But Isabella wasn’t in the mood to accept help. She was still sulking over the draw.

"Then, Your Highness, shall I help you over to Vivita for some rest?" Ashu asked.

"Mm." Isabella responded softly.

Through the Reaper’s Eye, Ashu had already noticed long ago that Isabella didn’t need a medical team at all. Her life force had stabilized after dropping to a certain threshold, and from there, it began recovering steadily.

That was something no ordinary person could achieve.

Clearly, it was a kind of innate talent.

After settling Isabella down, Ashu made an excuse to scout enemy movements and assess civilian casualties in the town, then temporarily left.

In truth, he used the encampment of the Imperial Capital soldiers to quickly circle around to a blind spot.

Then, after a long detour, he quietly slipped back into the nearly ruined town of Rose Valley.

The familiar stone fortress was thick with the scent of rust. The blood crystal bed glowed with an eerie crimson under the dim light.

Lilith lazily stretched her body, the sheer fabric sliding down to her waist. Her perfect curves, outlined by dark purple demonic markings, looked even more tempting.

She, too, had taken quite a few injuries.

"Little one, according to our agreement, not only do you owe me three days’ worth of food, but you also need to restore my mana." She bit her lip, her violet pupils sweeping over Ashu’s body as he undressed. "Mmm? Your body... it looks even stronger now. You’ll definitely taste even better."

Ashu’s initiative came from necessity—he needed Lilith back at her peak as soon as possible.

Right now, she was the only capable fighter he had.

He leaned over her, caressing Lilith, and when the moment was right, he pressed into her.

With the joining of their bodies, Lilith’s Succubus Bloodline continued to awaken further.

Her injuries, too, began to heal at a pace visible to the naked eye.

It was a unique form of energy conversion, turning carnal pleasure into restoration. Perhaps only a Succubus in the entire world could accomplish such a feat.

The heat of passion steadily rose inside the stone fortress. The scent of heather drifted through the air. Entwined in lust and power, the two of them gathered energy for the next battle.

Lilith laughed sweetly one moment and moaned softly the next. Her every move seemed to pluck the strings of Ashu’s heart, and Ashu worked tirelessly in return—after all, beyond the mana restoration, he still owed Lilith three full days’ worth of meals.

...

Meanwhile—

On the distant battlements of the Imperial Capital, Crown Prince Wilson was watching the battle between Isabella and the Demon mist through a magical mirror. His pupils narrowed with rage. In his heart, he cursed, "Isabella! What am I supposed to say to you... Tch... Sigh... If it weren’t for your interference, this Demon crisis would’ve been resolved already! Why go through all this just to end up in such a sorry state?"

Wilson clenched his fists so tightly, his nails nearly pierced his skin.

But all he could do was fume in silence.

After all, hiring assassins from a neighboring country was a disgrace of the highest order for the Royal Family. If it were exposed, the King might strip him of his Crown Prince title in a fit of fury.

Right now, he could only blame himself for not keeping a tighter watch on Isabella, letting her slip away.

If she hadn’t intercepted Bow King and Mage-King—if she hadn’t even killed one of them—then with so many elite forces gathered, wiping out the Demon nest in Rose Valley would’ve been effortless.

"Prince Wilson."

Suddenly, a voice—both unfamiliar and familiar—sounded from behind him. "His Majesty requests your presence."

Wilson’s body trembled. He slowly turned around to see the speaker: a man nine feet tall, clad in golden armor.

It was none other than one of the Atras Empire’s Imperial Iron Guards.

Only upon ascending the throne would one be qualified to command the formidable Imperial Iron Guard.

"W-what’s this about?" Wilson asked, voice trembling slightly.

At this point, he was carrying a full stack of debuffs—he’d lost a Sword King, sacrificed thousands of troops, let a King of Assassins perish, and even secretly left the city once.

The first three were all imperial assets. Losing them could still be brushed off as simple incompetence or wastefulness.

But the last one... if mishandled, it could cost him his status as Crown Prince—or worse, his life.

Such was the Royal Family—never a place for warmth or mercy.

"Your Highness, I do not know," the Imperial Iron Guard replied calmly, voice steady and cold. "All I know is that His Majesty summoned you."

It was the kind of reply that sounded like he knew exactly what was going on—but chose not to tell Wilson.

Seeing this.

Wilson could only pray for his own fate.

He nodded and said, "Understood. I’ll go shortly."

"No, Your Highness. His Majesty requires you to come with me now."

Thunk—

A chill ran down Wilson’s spine. Something this urgent could only mean trouble!

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