Vaguely, Vaguely, Sorrowful, Sorrowful, Miserable, Miserable

Time blurred, and Makino had no idea how long had passed.

Perhaps a day had gone by, or perhaps a hundred days had.

When Makino slowly woke again, it was already a sunny morning.

She opened her eyes in a daze, pursed her dry lips, and looked at the empty, luxurious palace before her.

A few images flashed through her mind, and she instinctively reached out to touch her own body.

The sensation beneath her fingertips startled even her.

The faint calluses and roughness once left by years of hard work in the tavern and hauling barrels had completely vanished.

Her skin had become smoother and more tender than a freshly peeled egg, as if it might break at the slightest touch.

Not only that, she could even feel that her already voluptuous figure, nourished by some kind of power, had gained even more striking curves, drawing closer to a heart-stopping kind of perfection.

She had no idea whether this unbelievable transformation had come from the divine object called the Spirit Key, or because after enduring that storm-like baptism, her body had been thoroughly opened up.

Recalling the madness of last night, that strange sensation of repeatedly leaping between pain and pleasure sent an uncontrollable blush flying across her face.

She had to admit that, in the deepest part of her heart, she actually did not hate that feeling of being utterly conquered.

Though the process had indeed been terribly brutal.

After all, after swallowing the Spirit Key, her physical constitution had been forcibly raised tens of thousands of times over, long since leaving the realm of ordinary people.

If it had been the ordinary tavern proprietress she once was, Makino would never have dared imagine that one day she could endure more than five continuous hours of high-intensity activity.