Fate/Ultimate Antagonist

[101] He is Him!

Reinhard woke up in a less than ideal state.

Dazed and heavy with lethargy, he emerged from the depths of unconsciousness.

The black-haired youth slowly opened his eyes.

A simple chandelier hung from the ceiling, unlit.

The deep brown velvet curtains obscured the dim dusk of London, separating the room from the gloomy twilight outside.

This was... the Clock Tower.

His familiar bedroom.

So... did the second simulation end?

For a teenager of barely sixteen years, life felt like a dream.

Upon waking up, there was always a sense of melancholy and emptiness, as if his body had been hollowed out...

Rubbing his temples, Reinhard slowly sat up in bed.

However... as he straightened his back, he suddenly felt a wave of weakness, a strong tingling sensation akin to being electrified, surged through his spine.

"...?!"

Reinhard grasped the bed tightly, preventing himself from collapsing onto the pillow.

Inside the dim and heavy bedroom.

His vision gradually adjusted to the dim light.

He then finally noticed that the blanket covering his lower body had formed a rather subtle bulge... and at that moment, it was restlessly moving.

As the blanket continued to undulate.

A continuous and persistent stimulation, like surging tides, rushed through his nerves.

"Slurp...Gluck... Gluck... "

Accompanied by a strange wet and slippery sound.

Reinhard bit his lip, trying to endure the sensation, and slowly lifted the wriggling blanket, which showed his witch sucking on his rod.

Morgan raised her head, her gaze lowered.

Green and deep ink-colored eyes met instantly.

"Good evening, hubby."

The witch's expression was charming, her eyes shimmering with allure.

She stuck out her small tongue and licked her lips provocatively, her gaze full of endless charm.

"These past three days... have you been sleeping well?"

"...What do you think?"

It's not about whether I've been sleeping well, it's about whether my dear wife has been sneaking into my bed for three days?

Seemingly understanding her husband's gaze.

Morgan grasped his rod in her hand, her fingers gently stroking it like playing a harp, causing Reinhard to emit an uncontrollable gasp of cold air.

"That's right~ You fell into a coma, how could I not take care of you? I care about you, hubby, I wouldn't trust anyone else to come near you."

Reinhard coughed and grabbed Morgan's restless little hand, pulling her up, and locking eyes with her.

"...Is this how witches care for people?"

Morgan leaned in, licking Reinhard's lips, smiling seductively, "Is my care not enough?"

Tch, your care means draining my dry, doesn't it?

I should have guessed from the start.