The delicate yet wicked female is addicted to collecting stamps, and her many beastly husbands vie f

Chapter 48 He seemed to be pouting.
This statement seems to have broken some taboo.

Feng Yin's breathing suddenly became heavy, and the last shred of reason in her eyes was completely torn away.

He suddenly grabbed Fuying's wrist and pinned her against the stark white bone bed. The jagged animal bones pressed painfully against her back. When his burning lips pressed down, the force was great, and Fuying tasted blood.

It wasn't a gentle touch, but a branding mark with pain, like the teeth marks left by a beast on its prey.

Feng Yin's arms were tightly wrapped around her waist, and her other hand gripped the back of her neck with an irresistible force. Fu Ying frowned and murmured, "How about we eat some roast chicken before continuing?"

Feng Yin ignored these words.

The flickering light on the stone wall distorted the overlapping figures, and the heavy breathing mingled in their ears.

As his sharp, white teeth grazed her collarbone, Fuying suddenly felt a sinking sensation all over her body.

The shadows projected on the wall stretched out and transformed into a giant beast!
Fu Ying's eyes widened as she met Feng Yin's glowing beastly eyes, and she suddenly remembered something very important.

In the ancient laws of the Orcish continent, the birth of new life must go through the most primitive ritual—the female must withstand the power of the male in his full beast form.

Fu Ying's lips twitched. He was so big, and she was so small. Was it really necessary to be so perverted?

Just as her body tensed up, the snow-white, fluffy tail gently wrapped around her ankle.

The fur at the tip of his tail was unexpectedly soft. His beastly eyes stared at her, his warm breath brushed against her neck, and he made an ambiguous purring sound in his throat, as if he were being affectionate.

"Bear with it."

A deep, lingering voice rang out, and before Fuying could react, a sharp pain struck.

She suddenly thought that she should take her heart's blood instead.

Fuying's fingertips sank deep into the fur on Fengyin's back, feeling a fluffy and wild sensation.

She was like a small boat in a storm, tossed to the peak by towering waves and then plunged into the abyss.

*
For two whole days, Fuying went with the flow.

On the third day, Feng Yin finally stopped and transformed back into human form. It wasn't that he didn't want to continue, but the tribe's beastmen outside were shouting, "Chief, the High Priest is here!"

Feng Yin's back was taut and smooth. He looked down at the listless Fuying, his narrow eyes filled with a strange tenderness. He took a snow-white animal skin and covered her with it, whispering, "I'll be back soon."

After saying that, Feng Yin strode away.

Fuying lay on her back on the bone bed, looking as wilted as a frostbitten eggplant.

She suddenly realized that even if the strategy was completed, the most difficult step was actually the process.

Hearing the noise outside, Fuying sat up with a grimace, took out various medicines from her spatial storage, applied them, and felt a cool, refreshing sensation that worked immediately, restoring her energy and spirit.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she had the cheat code; otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to withstand the strain and would have fallen apart.

As Fu Ying stepped out of the house, she didn't see a single orc. Judging from the noise, they must have all gathered at the entrance of the tribe. Without lingering, she hurriedly ran over there, wondering what kind of medicine the high priest had in his hand.

As soon as they stepped outside, they saw a dark mass of orcs kneeling on the ground.

They hunched over, holding the jet-black beast crystals high above their heads, their arms trembling in the wind. As far as the eye could see, all they could see were these dark crystals, gleaming with a suffocating eerie light amidst the swirling yellow sand.

Fu Ying frowned and immediately spotted Feng Yin standing at the front of the crowd.

He stood proudly among the kneeling orcs, as upright as a spear, his long, silvery-white hair fluttering wildly in the wind and sand.

Before him stood a group of people, led by an envoy in a black robe. He was hunched over, his withered fingers tightly gripping a white bone scepter, and he was talking to Feng Yin.

Fu Ying paused, then stepped forward. Before she even got close, she heard Feng Yin's displeased voice: "Why are there so many beast crystals again this month?"

The black-robed envoy chuckled coldly: "Chief Fengyin, if you think it's too much, you don't have to give it. There are many others who want the medicine besides your Fengyin tribe. However, I'm very curious, Chief Fengyin's face was covered in festering flesh last month, how come it's suddenly healed this month? Did you use some...treasure?"

A hint of coldness flickered in Feng Yin's narrow fox eyes as he smiled faintly: "High Priest, you're overthinking it. It's just a lynx you hunted down, and you smeared some grease on its face. It's not worth mentioning."

The black-robed envoy didn't press further, his voice hoarse: "Ten beast crystals per person, not one less."

Feng Yin's eyes turned slightly cold, a fierce glint surging within them.

Suddenly, the wolf beside him spoke up: "Chief, chief, it's only right that the high priest wants beast crystals, we'll give them to him!"

Feng Yin's eyes turned bloodshot. Suddenly, his whole body stiffened as pain spread rapidly, eroding his flesh and bones.

"Chief?" Benlang called out again.

Suddenly, a chilling sound of dislocation came from Feng Yin's spine. He slammed one knee into the sand, his long, silver hair cascading down, obscuring his beautiful face. He trembled all over, cold sweat dripping into the dust.

"Hah..." The breath squeezed out from Feng Yin's throat was even tinged with the smell of blood, and crackling lines spread from his spine like a spider web.

The high priest watched this scene with cold eyes, then suddenly laughed: "What a coincidence, Chief Windwhisper has suffered a backlash?"

"Hmm... let me think about it. How about fifteen beast crystals for each person?"

Benlang's expression changed drastically, his face filled with despair.

Feng Yin forced himself to lift his head, the broken lines on his face adding to his sinister air.

Bloodstains ran down his cheeks and across his neck, pooling into a small, dark puddle of blood in the hollow of his shoulder.

He was about to speak when a seductive voice suddenly interrupted, tinged with sarcasm: "Fifteen beast crystals per person? Aren't you afraid of having too big an appetite and bursting your stomach?"

Feng Yin's expression suddenly changed. She frowned and looked at Fu Ying, enduring the excruciating pain, and shouted, "Go back!"

The high priest stared at the pillar, then suddenly chuckled, "Female?"

Fuying stepped forward, took Fengyin's arm, and fed him a pill.

Although she didn't understand how painful the backlash from the Fallen Orcs was or how to treat it, the principle remained the same: pain relief was definitely the right thing to do. But could this kind of backlash, which was like a curse, really be suppressed with herbs?

The pill entered my mouth and instantly turned into liquid, flowing into my limbs and bones, easing the excruciating pain considerably.

Feng Yin stared at Fu Ying and suddenly realized that he had underestimated her.

"The Wind Whisper leader is really good at hiding his true intentions." The high priest watched this scene and smiled sinisterly.

He slowly approached Fuying, his bone staff leaving serpentine trails in the sand, and said quietly, "A biting little female is only lovable after her teeth are pulled."

As he spoke, the high priest's bone staff tip reached out to pluck a strand of hair from Fuying's head.

"Don't touch her!"

With a sudden shout, Feng Yin braced himself against his chest with one hand, his silver hair moving even without wind.

The dark star pattern on his forehead suddenly flashed, like a ferocious beast from the abyss whose territory had been invaded.

The high priest's bone staff froze a mere inch from Fu Ying's hair. He glanced at Feng Yin with some surprise, his expression a mixture of doubt and curiosity, as if he were looking at an experiment: "You've suffered a backlash, yet you can still resist?"

(End of this chapter)