With Seraphine liberating her nature, a magical switch seemed to have been flipped within the girl.
While she appeared merely more active on the surface, only Faen knew that her liveliness was not limited to her outward behavior.
Her private passion was enough to make anyone's mouth water at the mere thought of it.
Furthermore, Faen had little to do during this time, leading a rather flavorful life.
Aside from his unwavering meditative cultivation—converting the city's joyful emotions into his own power—he spent his time shamelessly doting on Zeri and Janna.
Inside that chem-tower overlooking all of Zaun, a sacrilegious feast of carnal lust was being staged upon the most extravagant couch.
Faen's meat stick, which had grown increasingly thick and ferocious from constantly absorbing the city's revelry, was ridged with dark blue veins.
It now carried a heat intense enough to scald tender inner walls as it ruthlessly impaled the body of the Wind Goddess, Janna.
"Ah... hng! Master... too deep... ngh-ah!"
Janna's tall, divine frame bounced violently beneath Faen.
Her originally ethereal eyes were now completely unfocused, her pupils reflecting dazed heart shapes.
Faen worked like a cold, heavy pile-driver, his large hands dead-locking Janna's snowy-white ass cheeks—which had become incredibly firm as her spirit form solidified.
Every full withdrawal dragged out a mass of crystal-clear, viscous juices shimmering with spiritual light.
Every heavy strike was accompanied by the deafening "smack-smack-smack" of flesh, driving straight into the deepest core of the patron deity's spiritual essence.
Beside them, Zeri had long ago lost all reason, washed away by this massive tide of "Joy Energy."
Her petite body was curled up at Faen's side, her long, slender legs—illuminated bone-white by electric arcs—spread wide.
Her flower house, repeatedly plowed by Faen and already red and swollen, was opening and closing frantically, greedily weeping a muddy mess of lewd juices.
Due to the continuous activation of the Joy Factor, she didn't even need Faen to enter her personally.
Simply through the resonance of the mental link, she could feel her womb being pounded across the distance by Faen's massive object.
"Faen... I want it too... quickly, fill me up too..."
Zeri screamed dazedly while her hands frantically pressed and dug at her already engorged, pink clitoris.
With every uncontrolled spasm, a scalding stream of squirting fluids erupted like a water cannon, soaking the bedsheets into a lewd ruin.
In this room completely filled with pheromones and magic, dignity and divinity had long since vanished in the flood of carnal desire.
Only Faen remained amidst the mud and moans, coldly and proudly enjoying his absolute dominance.
Although Seraphine had followed her heart's love and chosen submissive service, she was not yet ready to face Zeri.
Seraphine wasn't exactly a "pink-haired manipulator," but she was a kind girl at heart.
Because Zeri, as one of Faen's chosen, rarely held any mental defenses, Seraphine could feel Zeri's undisguised goodwill and affection.
Yet, it was precisely this kindness that often made Seraphine feel a heavy pressure.
Seraphine knew well that people who trust unconditionally and treat others with pure kindness are very rare in this world.
Especially someone as passionate and pure as Zeri...
She didn't want to hurt Zeri, so she pleaded with Faen not to go public yet, though they could continue their secret trysts.
She wanted to wait until she was ready, or until she had laid enough groundwork to confess her status as Faen's love-slave to Zeri.
While Faen was enjoying bliss in his little den of debauchery, the outside world of Zaun and Piltover was going through transformations that made days feel like years.
From the moment Faen tore through the iron-clad defenses of Piltover's Mid-Level Plaza, the impact was most directly reflected in the stock market.
After all, at any other time, similar incidents could be masked, blocked, or edited through media manipulation.
Before this, Faen had once believed that media manipulation meant using bigger news to distract people and then using a "history-rewriting pen" to turn black into white.
It wasn't until he saw instances like a crushing "0-6 defeat" being spun as a victory that he realized "history-rewriting" was amateur hour.
True narrative control could turn a loss into a win and even send out commissioners for a victory tour...
The "Immortals" of manipulation were truly a sight to behold.
But with the chem-airships acting as repeaters to broadcast the footage, combined with Faen's direct frontal assault on the Blue Harbor Estate via Piltover Boulevard, the Council's ability to control public opinion failed completely.
Never mind the major newspapers; even local tabloids refused to flip the narrative and wash the hands of the Councilors and trade aristocrats.
During the "Zaunite Spring," people didn't understand what was happening in Zaun and believed it had been taken over by a tyrant, becoming more chaotic.
But the "Public Execution" was broadcast live in its entirety.
Everyone witnessed Faen shredding the fortifications that had cost massive manpower and resources, and the sight of a single man infiltrating the Blue Harbor Estate to complete the execution...
In fact, even before Faen reached the estate, just as he broke the defenses of the Mid-Level Plaza, the defense contractor Ironthorn Security saw its stock price plummet by 18%.
The panic selling forced the exchange to announce a temporary market halt.
This gave Piltover's stock market a brief moment of respite.
Traders with family backgrounds kept shouting that it was just a "technical adjustment" and that Piltover still held an absolute military advantage over Zaun, which slowed the collapse.
Unfortunately, this did not stop the inevitable crash.
As Faen entered Piltover Boulevard, crushing, beheading, and taming the mercenaries as his dogs, the exchange failed to maintain its halt amidst the wave of panic selling.
Specifically, House Ferros—whose industries were highly tied to Hextech—saw a single-session dump of two million Gold Hexes as the war soured. Other families followed suit.
The Bank of Piltover froze accounts, the Hextech Technology Index hit a circuit breaker, and real estate trust funds shrunk by 30% in a single day.
By the next morning, a dozen drunken speculators had jumped from the Sun Gates bridge...
Walking the streets and sensing the hurried, anxious passersby, Viktor couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy, even though he had anticipated this.
What was Piltover like just a few days ago?
Undoubtedly, it was prosperous. People barely worried about tomorrow because Piltover was always developing.
Goods from all over the world flowed through the Hextech Gates, the Sun Gates canal, and the sea locks for maximum efficiency.
Those born here rarely worried about survival.
Even if they truly hit rock bottom, the Piltie Warden shelters always had hot water, warm soup, and clean beds ready.
But now?
Walking the streets, people's faces were filled with uncertainty about the future.
The stock market had crashed, and the money in their hands was becoming worthless.
Many companies, especially investment firms, had gone bankrupt.
Conversely, orders for consulting agencies regarding other nations had skyrocketed.
Viktor had already heard of many people considering moving their technology and assets to Noxus or heading to Demacia to live out their days as quiet, wealthy retirees...
Among these choices, Zaun was a top pick for many.
After all, Zaun and Piltover were as close as lips and teeth.
While Zaun hadn't fully developed yet, Faen standing there was the best proof of a "guaranteed profit."
At the very least, with such a powerhouse providing protection, even if Zaun couldn't surpass Piltover in the future, Piltover wouldn't dare to wantonly exploit and squeeze it as they had in the past...
In fact, the current Piltover might have to start thinking about how to compensate Zaun for past damages, perhaps launching a "Zaunite Lives Matter" movement.
Thinking this, Viktor felt a touch of irony.
Viktor had spent countless efforts trying to make Zaun better.
Even during his research, he would wonder if his current work could eventually be used for Zaun's transformation—environmental governance, industrial safety, and so on.
But all he had received were reports of Zaun's worsening condition. This had once driven Viktor to despair.
And now... the appearance of a single strong individual had changed everything, forcing a prosperous city to submit.
The impact brought by pure violence, so different from the power of technology, was unimaginable.
Along with it, Viktor couldn't help but start wondering: what if Zaun lost Faen again?