Reborn in Milfloria: The Only Man in a World of Seductive Queens-Chapter 39: The thirstening

Henry froze, his lips barely a breath away from the flower’s plush, glistening petals. The scent wafting from it was too sweet, too intoxicating like vanilla had gone on a date with sin and they made a baby called "bad decisions."

The petals shimmered in soft hues of pink and gold, parting ever so slightly as if inviting his kiss, their edges quivering with anticipation. A soft purr vibrated through the air. The flower’s voice was a whisper laced with honey and peril. "Just a little peck, brave one... and I’ll bloom just for you."

Henry’s mind fogged. His heartbeat thudded in his ears like a poorly timed drum solo. He inched closer.

Behind him, the three women of his destiny Seraphina, Moistessa, and Thrustina stood like whipped cream-coated Valkyries, glowing, panting, and very, very moist. Their battle attire barely clung to them after the last trial, glistening with sacred sweat and glittery goddess goo.

"GET AWAY FROM MY MAN!" Seraphina screamed again, voice thundering through the sacred hall like a diva possessed. Her golden eyes flared like a solar flare in stilettos.

She charged forward, heels clacking, bosom bouncing, like a thunderstorm wearing thigh-highs. Lightning trailed behind her. Somewhere, a choir of horny angels trembled.

Henry flinched, spun around, and raised his hands in panic. "I-it wasn’t what it looked like! I was just—there was a flower and Climaxa said I mean "

"You were about to kiss a flower with lips, Henry!" Moistessa hissed, her wet curls bouncing wildly. She jiggled aggressively with every word, her blessed curves defying physics.

The flower behind him pouted, a single tear of dew slipping down its cheek. "I’m still here, you know. And I moisturize."

Thrustina whipped out a dagger and pointed it at the flora. "You shut your petals, you seductive shrub!"

Climaxa, the cosmic goddess of climax herself, floated above them, reclining in mid-air, sipping from a cosmic cocktail that sparkled like it was made of stardust and forbidden fantasies. "Relax, ladies. He was completing the Trial of Touch. Very necessary. Very... sticky."

Henry wiped his brow, his hand slipping slightly from residual nectar. "You know, for a place that’s supposedly sacred, it’s got a lot of... suction."

Seraphina stormed over, eyes blazing. Her thigh-highs shimmered with righteous fury. "Henry. Did you enjoy it?"

He looked at her. Then Moistessa. Then Thrustina. Then the flower, who licked her lips again, petals quivering like a jazz singer begging for an encore. Then back at Seraphina.

"...A little?"

WHAP.

Seraphina smacked him not out of anger, but to snap him out of his downbad daze.

"You’re better than this!" she declared, her chest heaving like a storm-tossed sea. "You are Henry! Man of Moisture! Saviour of the Snuggle Throne! The Only Man in the World of Seductive Queens!"

Henry blinked, dazed but aroused. "Those are... all true things."

Moistessa sniffled, wiping a glittery tear from her eye. "And you smell like you made out with a scented candle."

Thrustina crossed her arms, her daggers glinting. "We’ve wasted enough time. Where’s Lavendusk? We didn’t ride a vibrating panty-dragon through a maze of giggling grass just to let you get your lips pollinated."

The flower, now deeply insulted, let out a soft whimper and curled into itself like a rejected lover in a telenovela.

Climaxa floated downward. "The final trial lies ahead. Beyond the Lake of Liquid Lust. Guarded by the Nuns of Naughtiness."

Henry tilted his head. "That... sounds illegal."

---

They stood before it an enormous, shimmering lake that sparkled like it was made of melted lip gloss, fairy dust, and the dreams of lonely Instagram poets. The surface rippled like it was being tickled from below.

Every ripple giggled. Literally giggled.

Henry squinted. "Is the water... breathing?"

Climaxa nodded solemnly. "Yes. And it’s ticklish."

Moistessa dipped a toe in. The water shivered and sighed. A tiny moan escaped the surface like a love-struck whisper.

"It just moaned at me," Moistessa said, cheeks flushed.

Thrustina growled and drew her daggers. "Water shouldn’t moan."

Climaxa spun in the air like a ballet dancer doing yoga. "To cross, one must be pure of heart... or extremely downbad."

Henry raised his hand proudly. "I volunteer as tribute."

He stepped into the lake.

The water cooed.

He took another step.

The lake blushed. Literal pink steam rose from its surface.

By the time he was waist-deep, the lake was full-on shivering, tiny sparkles dancing around him like sensual fireflies drunk on pheromones.

"Hey! Eyes up here, lake," Henry muttered.

The water whispered back, "But your thighs are so tender."

Seraphina let out a noise that was half growl, half whimper. "I can’t take this anymore. We’re crossing. Now."

They all waded through together, hand in hand. The water caressed them with suspicious enthusiasm, giggling and moaning at every touch.

Slippery tentacles brushed their legs. Some tickled. Some tugged. One tried to undo Henry’s belt.

Thrustina stabbed one. It moaned. She stabbed it again. It moaned louder.

"...I’m gonna lose my mind," she muttered.

Moistessa floated past on an inflatable donut that hadn’t been there before. "This lake has needs."

Climaxa rode a bubble shaped like a heart. "And standards."

---

It loomed ahead a grand, gothic temple shaped suspiciously like a pair of hips mid-twerk. Its spires reached to the heavens like sultry fingers beckoning the stars closer. Every pillar was curved. Every window arched seductively. Even the gargoyles looked like they just got off OnlyFans.

Henry gulped. "Do I knock? Or do I... smack it?"

Climaxa floated down beside him, sipping from her now-refilled cocktail. "Only the truly downbad may enter. Show the Cathedral your deepest thirst."

Henry took a deep breath.

He stepped forward.

He raised his hand.

He whispered, "I want to be chased by demon queens through an endless pillow fort... while wearing nothing but socks and confidence."

The door trembled.

It shuddered.

Then slowly, sensually, creaked open. A warm, inviting light poured out.

The path inside awaited.

---

Inside the Cathedral: Final Temptations

Soft candlelight lit the way, the flames flickering in slow, seductive waves. Every wall was lined with stained glass windows depicting Henry in increasingly humiliating yet oddly endearing scenarios—hugging a body pillow, dancing in a towel, accidentally confessing to a vending machine.

Seraphina paused at one. "Aww, look at baby Henry learning how to flirt."

Henry groaned. "I was trying to compliment a girl’s earrings and accidentally said ’I like your earholes.’"

Moistessa patted his head, her fingers warm and gentle. "So brave."

Thrustina marched ahead, eyes scanning the space. "Focus. Lavendusk is near. I can feel the humidity rising."

Suddenly, the temperature spiked. A violet light engulfed the hall.

From the shadows emerged a figure.

Queen Lavendusk.

She was tall. Towering. Ethereal. Her curves could cause car crashes in alternate dimensions. Her eyes glowed with ancient hunger, framed by lashes long enough to tickle planets. Her tail swayed behind her like a lie in motion.

"Henry," she said, voice dripping with honeyed malice, "I’ve waited centuries for you."

Henry blinked. "I get that a lot lately."

She glided forward, each step echoing like a heart skipping a beat. Her dress flowed behind her like liquid shadow.

"You are the final man. The last spark of the old world. And I will make you mine."

Seraphina stepped in front of him, her stance wide, her expression unyielding. "Over my silky, thigh-wrapped body."

Lavendusk smiled, baring sharp yet inviting teeth. "Oh good. A fight. I love foreplay."

A breeze swirled through the cathedral’s hips—yes, hips—that somehow made a clapping noise every few seconds as if the building itself approved of what was about to go down.

Henry blinked slowly. "Do cathedrals normally... twerk?"

Climaxa floated beside him, swirling her cosmic drink, which now had a glittery umbrella shaped like a G-string. "In Milforia? Darling, even the furniture grinds."

Lavendusk stepped forward, and the floor beneath her shimmered. Each of her steps left behind soft purple petals and the faint scent of forbidden bedtime stories.

Seraphina stood tall, hand on her sword’s hilt, chest heaving not just from fury—but from years of suppressed anxiety that someone, somewhere, might one day out-seduce her.

"You’re not laying a single perfectly-manicured finger on him," she snarled.

Lavendusk raised a delicate brow. "Oh? And what if I lay two?"

She wiggled both index fingers seductively. They sparkled. Literally sparkled.

Behind Seraphina, Moistessa was squeezing her trident like a stress toy, cheeks puffed with determination.

"I don’t trust anyone whose tail makes an S-curve," she muttered.

Thrustina rolled her neck. Her shoulder cracked. "She’s stalling. She’s testing us."

Lavendusk clicked her tongue. "So impatient. Don’t you know climax is better when it builds?"

With a wave of her hand, the cathedral dimmed. The stained glass windows began to move—actual animation, like hentai mosaics designed by horny monks. Henry accidentally made eye contact with one and recoiled.

"Did I just see a window... wink at me?"

"It winked with both cheeks," Moistessa whispered.

Suddenly, vines sprouted from the floor—violet, silken, and suspiciously lubricated—wrapping around the columns, the furniture, the air itself. They didn’t move aggressively, more like... suggestively.

Seraphina sliced through one with a flash of silver. It moaned.

Henry jumped. "Okay. Nope. No more moaning architecture. I refuse to be seduced by flooring."

Lavendusk giggled. "But darling... what about ceiling?"

The roof above them peeled open like a blooming flower, revealing an endless, swirling night sky. Stars formed shapes—some elegant, some erotic, all incredibly detailed. One constellation resembled Henry in a bubble bath, surrounded by hearts and suspiciously curvy nebulas.

Climaxa sipped her drink. "Oh look. The Constellation of Wet Dreams."

Lavendusk’s eyes pulsed with energy, glowing like lavender fire. "Let us begin."

She raised both hands, and the air grew heavy. Not dangerous. Just... thick. The kind of thickness that made Henry feel like his thoughts were walking through whipped cream. A humming filled the chamber, like a low bassline played on the thighs of giants.

With a flick, Lavendusk summoned a throne of intertwining vines and petals, shaped like an open palm. She sat slowly, crossing her legs in such a way that physics briefly clapped in appreciation.

"Let me see if you’re worthy," she purred. "One by one."

The vines slithered toward Seraphina first.

She sliced them.

Ten more grew in their place.

"Bring it, you flora-floozy!" Seraphina shouted, dashing forward.

Lavendusk didn’t move.

The vines swirled, creating a dome around Seraphina. Lavender light flickered within, like a private sauna made of glowsticks and seduction.

From inside the dome, they heard shouting, then gasping, then... was that jazz music?

Henry tilted his head. "Are those saxophones?"

Climaxa nodded. "Seduction Combat. Round One."

Moments later, the dome burst open and Seraphina emerged hair frazzled, thigh-highs ripped, eyes wide.

"She,she complimented my posture."

Lavendusk smirked. "And I meant it."

Moistessa stepped forward, clutching her trident. "You think you can fluster us with flattery and vines? I was raised in the Spank Spa of Shimmerglen. I am the standard!"

Lavendusk yawned. "Yes, yes. Moistessa of the Glistening Depths. I read your résumé."

Moistessa charged.

More vines danced.

A second dome formed.

This one glowed a gentle pink and hummed with what could only be described as romantic bass drops.

Henry winced. "That dome smells like strawberries and danger."

Moments passed.

Then Moistessa exploded out, breathless, cheeks flushed. "She—she whispered... moisture metaphors."

Lavendusk licked her lips. "And I haven’t even begun the tongue twisters."

Thrustina groaned. "Right. My turn."

"No, wait " Henry reached for her arm.

Thrustina glanced back.

"I’m not worried," she said. "I was trained by the Order of the Blushless Blade. I once fought three Succubi while reading a haiku about raw onions."

Henry blinked. "That’s the most emotionally complex sentence I’ve ever heard."

Thrustina walked into the swirling vines with confidence.

The dome this time was red crimson and intense.

Swords clashed inside. There was a flash of lace. A disembodied voice yelled, "You call that a pelvic thrust?"

When the dome cracked, Thrustina stepped out, holding a vine like a severed whip.

"She made me... giggle." Thrustina whispered, staring at her hands in existential horror. "I haven’t giggled since I was six..."

Lavendusk rose slowly from her throne.

"You are strong. But he " she turned to Henry " he is the one I want."

Henry held up both hands. "Okay, just to clarify—I don’t like being wanted in the way people ’want’ a final slice of cheesecake."

"You’re wrong," she said, walking toward him. "You are the forbidden frosting of a crumbling world. The last drizzle of masculinity in a land starved of sausage."

"Can we not call me sausage drizzle?" Henry pleaded.

She ignored him, standing inches away. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"I could make you forget every woman behind you. Every duty. Every throne."

"I don’t even like thrones! They’re just uncomfortable chairs with drama!"

Behind him, Seraphina struggled to her feet. "Don’t listen to her..."

Lavendusk placed a hand on his chest.

It was cold.

Then hot.

Then cold again in a fun way.

"You and I could create a new kingdom. One without rules. Without celibacy demons. Just moans... and mango body butter."

Henry stared into her glowing eyes.

The scent of lavender was thick.

So thick.

So-

"Henry!" Seraphina’s voice broke the spell. "Don’t forget who you are!"

He turned toward her. Moistessa. Thrustina. All roughed up, but standing. For him.

His heart kicked into gear.

He looked Lavendusk in the eye and said, softly

"I already have a throne."

She blinked.

He stepped back.

"I already have three dangerously seductive women who yell at me when I’m stupid. That’s more than enough."

Lavendusk’s smile twitched. "So you choose them over me?"

Henry nodded. "They chose me first."

For a moment, everything was still.

Then Lavendusk chuckled.

A low, rumbling, echoing laugh that rolled across the walls.

"Oh Henry... then let the final trial begin."

The ground trembled.

The ceiling moaned.

A hidden staircase rose from the floor—each step shaped like a suggestively arched back.

Climaxa floated in with a fresh cocktail.

"Welp. You passed the temptation phase. Now comes the fun part."

Henry swallowed. "What’s the fun part?"

Climaxa winked. "You’ll see."

They stared at the staircase.

It pulsed.

Literally pulsed.

Moistessa clutched her trident.

Seraphina drew her blade.

Thrustina cracked her knuckles.

And Henry, heart thumping, stepped toward the first stair—

As Lavendusk whispered behind him:

"I hope you’re good at games... because the Tower of Tension awaits."

To Be Continued...