Monster Harem In The Tower-Chapter 177: Screens Glowed. Milk Froze. Nothing Was Okay.

Above the body of the First Legendary Dick Master, Morvessa hesitantly began describing what had been buried in her chest.

She slowly rose—but never left his body.

Her pale pussy still sat upon the private blade, which had long declared its prowess in the art of standing tall.

Lubricating fluids soaked the thin cloth that wrapped the twitching, eager sword underneath.

"I’m lonely... I’m scared of being alone... I..."

Her wings—those eerie extensions fused with her arms—trembled slightly, betraying the doubt within.

She swallowed hard, her pale, firm breasts rising and falling like shy waves.

"I... want..."

Her pale slit tightened, almost biting the rough fabric with anticipation.

"...to bear a child."

Nathan froze.

Sure, he was a pervy man who liked rubbing his dick on the strange skins of monster women.

But this—this was something different.

A child?

Cawwwk!

An eagle screeched in his mind.

He hallucinated children with wings—laughing, soaring in a dreamscape made of feathers and fate.

Papa... Papa...

He shook his head violently, snapping out of the vivid delusion spawned from the desperate wish of a half-bird woman with glowing pale skin,

dark feathers tracing her arms and chest,

and a perfectly tight stomach that seemed to whisper:

"Seed me."

Yes.

She was still seated upon him, not as a temptress, but as a womb waiting to be filled.

Not for pleasure—

but for legacy.

Nathan couldn’t respond to Morvessa’s words right away.

He truly wanted to love—

Not through mindless thrusting or frantic rubbing,

but through something pure.

Something real.

Something that didn’t need his dick to speak on his behalf.

But sadly, that emotion...

Never quite reached the primal protocol baked into every species:

"Reproduce. Expand. Pass it on."

All his life, he had wrestled with Japanese adult media—

Animations where curvy women were pounded until pregnancy,

their bellies bulging with cream-colored destiny.

But it was all just about the climax.

No aftermath.

No responsibility.

Even when those pixelated girls got pregnant,

no one stayed to raise the child.

His brain locked up.

He said nothing.

Did nothing.

His eyes could only fixate on Morvessa—

so impossibly kissable, huggable, and hauntingly soft.

His mouth refused to move.

Not even to swallow.

And that...

was where he failed.

[Optimal Devouring] —

his personal, primal gift from the Tower—

never activated.

Because he swallowed nothing.

Not even the moment.

Not even a drop of vulnerability.

Unlike that one time with Velmora, when he accidentally gulped her saliva mid-stammer

during her Shy Snake phase...

This time, he didn’t devour.

----

Meanwhile, as Nathan wrestled with a storm of confusion in his head,

far away—yet all too near—the Tower Manager, also known as Lilith the Milky Mommy,

was still squeezing her own snow-white breasts,

her fingers lazily swirling in the sacred terrain down below.

But even her rhythm halted—

right at the moment Morvessa spoke her wish.

"I... want to bear a child."

Snap.

Lilith froze.

The sensual self-play of a cosmic milf cut short by five syllables that cracked through the air like divine thunder.

"A child?" she muttered, blinking.

Her hands remained frozen mid-press—one still on her gleaming breast, the other stopped just above the gates of indulgence.

"What..."

Her voice trembled.

Not from arousal.

But from something deeper.

Shock.

Because in this absurd Tower of lust, combat, and unresolved trauma—

someone just invoked the most forbidden word of all.

Legacy.

---

Far from the absurd Tower—

the one filled with sacred nipples and winged monster girls confessing their love—

Sophia sat alone.

The pale kitchen light barely illuminated half her face.

The other half was swallowed by a kind of sorrow she never learned how to name.

It had been three days since she returned from the Tower.

Three days that felt like... nothing.

Like the world had exhaled and forgotten to inhale again.

Her hand gripped a mug of hot chocolate—now cold.

Her eyes didn’t focus on anything, just lingered on the window,

where raindrops scattered like city lights trying to remember how to cry.

"Nathan..."

"Are you still alive?"

It wasn’t a whisper.

It was a spell.

A quiet chant she repeated to keep herself from collapsing.

She remembered—Nathan was still trapped inside that place.

With a woman. A damn woman.

"Damn it..." she muttered, her grip tightening on the mug.

"I need to calm down."

She exhaled deeply.

Her chest rose and fell like waves that never reach the shore.

"...Nathan wouldn’t... sleep with that woman... would he?"

She smiled—an awkward, crooked smile.

A smile that said: "I hope you’re still the same loser you used to be."

But Nathan...

Nathan was trying to change.

And in that exact moment—

far beyond her reach,

in a dimension of lewdness and unwanted growth—

he was being ridden

by a bird-woman

on top of his most sensitive flesh

The world kept turning.

It didn’t sympathize with a tsundere girl who had already confessed her feelings,

nor with a former loser who was just now learning how to tame his dick.

Elsewhere—

David and Fiona were getting closer.

Their version of happiness was simple:

Late-night texting, oversharing until they got embarrassed,

talking about anything and everything until silence felt like a warm hug.

It made their hearts race.

Sometimes it even made their bodies tingle.

But they hadn’t acted on desire.

Not yet.

They were still unsure.

Sometimes Fiona would text, "Just lying in bed,"

when in reality, she had just showered,

was wearing a tank top,

and had checked her reflection on her phone screen five times—

just to make sure the angle didn’t make her look too cold.

David, on the other hand, would pretend to ask about the guild,

when what he really wanted to know was:

"What time do you sleep?"

"Have you eaten?"

They played it safe.

But playing it safe too often

made them feel naked.

"I just found out you’re allergic to tomatoes?"

"Yeah. I’ll vomit if I eat them...

But I’m not allergic to nice guys."

Five minutes of silence.

David typed. Deleted.

Typed again. Deleted again.

Then finally sent:

"Am I... a nice guy?"

Fiona didn’t answer right away.

She set her phone down.

Exhaled.

Her mind jumped—

back to that night when she accidentally sent a weird message.

A message that, somehow, started this small slice of happiness.

"I don’t know... But I don’t want you to change."

And that night...

They both fell asleep,

still holding their phones.

Screens still glowing.

Like two idiots too scared to say I love you,

but too stubborn to let go.

BRRRRRT.

David’s phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen.

His smile vanished.

It wasn’t Fiona.

It was Ulrich.

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