My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 771: Great Immortal God Corpse

The flight stretched for what felt like three endless minutes.

But Sienna knew better.

Her Soul Realm was vast — three times the size of the mortal Earth — an infinite suffocating expanse where time and distance were toys she allowed to exist. The generals were not flying by speed.

They were brutally raping space-time itself, tearing through layer after layer with raw nether and death energy, clawing forward with violent starving force.

Then the air changed.

The nether thickened into a choking living sludge that pressed against their bodies like wet concrete poured straight into their lungs.

Death energy coiled tighter, greener, heavier, wrapping around throats and limbs like nooses of rotting silk. The Abyssal Dragon’s wing-strokes slowed first — the corrupted air refusing the small mortal courtesy of resistance, the wings now beating against a substance that pushed back like meat.

The Serpent’s slithering became a dragging crawl. The Chimera’s chaotic gallop stuttered into a half-stride. The Winged General’s flicker glitched harder, every form-shift snagging on the thickening air as if reality itself had grown teeth.

And something else was starting to bleed through her realm as they flew as far from her throne, I was some kind of... golden corruption — it was faint at first and then exploding into something far more potent and obscener as grew closer into its territory.

It was not light, more of a blasphemy given radiance.

Thick threads of molten divine gold wove through the black tar of the realm and its energies (nether and death energies) weaving through the heavy skies and the ground... the golden-black-green weaved together to create something akin to sickly a green death like veins of corrupted sunlight.

Where the golden tint touched nether, the darkness grew thicker, sweeter, more intoxicating — a heavy honeyed rot that made every breath feel like swallowing liquid divinity mixed with corpse-bile.

The death energy turned viciously luminous, glowing with a treacherous holy sheen that burned the eyes while promising ecstasy.

The golden corruption did not purify.

It infected.

It’s once sacred power now twisted into something addictive, agonizing and corruptive, forcing unfinished flesh to bloom with fresh tumours of gold-veined meat that screamed even as they grew stronger.

The generals rejoiced in delirious corruption.

The Serpent General hissed in rapturous torment, its many mouths gaping wide to drink the burning golden air, limbs sprouting faster and more violently as golden cracks spread across its body and split open with fresh sprays of glowing ichor.

The Chimera General roared with all its warring heads, bodies convulsing in orgasmic suffering as golden threads laced through its mutating flesh while Winged General’s flickering became a blinding golden-black strobe, its broken wings shedding feathers that now burned with divine fire as they fell.

The Abyssal Dragon rumbled with deep wet bliss, its jaw splitting wider in a grin of pure suffering as golden corruption seeped into its wounds and made them sing.

The golden corruption grew stronger the closer they flew.

It became suffocating.

It became heavenly.

The air turned into liquid divine poison — thick, glowing, unbearably sweet.

Every inhale scorched their unfinished souls with holy agony while flooding them with power that made their broken bodies thrash in rapturous pain.

The realm’s heartbeat thundered louder:

THUMP... SQUELCH... THUMP... SQUELCH...

Soon as they got closer, a mountain appeared in the distance.

But it did not rise like normal mountains...

It devoured existence.

A colossal dark mountain swallowed the entire horizon from zenith to nadir — an impossible peak of fused black stone, petrified divine corpses, and writhing bone that stood at the absolute center of Sienna’s Soul Realm.

The mountain slopes were not rock.

They were layered gods and titans, their broken bodies crushed and stacked into a single monolithic spike that pierced the nothing above and plunged deep into the black lakes below.

Where the slope met the lake-surface, the bodies of fallen divinity were submerged so deep that the water around the mountain’s base ran gold-likemolten liquid with the slow leaching of their ancient ichor.

The fused gods seemed to be breathing.

The slope itself rose and fell in slow patient peristaltic pulses, the breath of a mountain made of broken divinity that had never quite finished dying, and every pulse sent fresh trickles of gold and black down its flanks.

Rivers of nether and death energy poured down its sides in glowing waterfalls — but every drop now burned with thick radiant golden corruption, molten divinity twisted into liquid blasphemy that hissed and steamed where it touched the tar.

The realm went quieter the closer the generals flew.

The wet heartbeat that had been the realm’s constant pulse — thump, squelch, thump, squelch — softened near the mountain’s slope. Even the Soul Realm itself, it seemed, knew better than to make noise in the presence of what was buried at the peak.

At the mountain’s summit, embedded like a desecrated crown of fallen divinity, lay a Great Immortal God being’s corpse.

It was horrifying in its fallen majesty.

The God was continent-sized... its once-perfect divine body brutally fused into the peak.

The golden skin — once radiant with celestial light — was now ashen, cracked, and veined with pulsing black nether and green death, yet still leaked thick rivers of liquid gold from every orifice and wound. Its hands, each one the size of an island, lay open at its sides, the fingers curled in the half-relaxed grip of a being that had been mid-gesture when the killing blow had landed and had stayed in that gesture for cosmic ages.

Six vast wings hung limp and shattered, their feathers of pure starlight now blackened and dripping glowing golden ichor that never stopped flowing, pooling in divine lakes that corrupted everything they touched.

Its face remained ethereally beautiful — eternal, flawless, heartbreaking — except for the massive jagged crater where its heart had been violently torn out.

From that gaping wound poured the purest most potent golden essence, mixing with the realm’s nether and death to create the suffocating golden corruption now saturating the entire mountain and beyond.

Its eyes — still open, still glowing with dying furious divine light — stared into the void with eternal accusation and unimaginable suffering. Its mouth hung slightly agape in a silent endless scream. Countless celestial runes and holy tattoos crawled across its skin in burning patterns, constantly flickering, burning away, and reforming in new tormented configurations.

Even in this half-death, the God’s corpse radiated overwhelming divine power — now twisted into the most exquisite agonising corruption Sienna had ever created.

Whoever this had been — whatever pantheon it had ruled, whatever realms had once knelt before its name — was no longer of any consequence.

It belonged to her now.

The generals landed at the mountain’s base with reverent shuddering crashes, their bodies trembling with golden-laced ecstasy and pain.

Sienna dismounted the Abyssal Dragon and stood upon the slope, black blood streaming from her eyes as she gazed up at the colossal desecrated God.

A small satisfied smile touched her lips.

This was more than enough for her generals.

The golden corruption would strengthen them, heal their wounds and make their unfinished forms even more gloriously monstrous.

But more importantly —

This was something she had come to claim.

For a certain insufferable boy in the mortal world.

Sienna’s eyes gleamed with quiet ancient purpose as the golden-tinted corruption swirled around her like a lover’s burning caress.

She had work to do.