PinkSnake
patreon
Play the Villain - Chapter 260 - Vol. 2 - Chapter 87: Samael – Joyous Form
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 11:59:17 +0000 UTCThe next day, Atlas Mountain Sacred Garden.
Crack...
A faint, brittle sound came from within the composite ritual array as a claw covered in golden scales pushed through.
The purple-red cocoon of blood-like membrane split with spiderweb cracks, like an eggshell pecked open.
Whoosh!
As the fractures spread across the membrane, a pair of pale yellow wings slowly unfolded to either side, trembling faintly as they fluttered.
Shards of purplish-red membrane scattered into drifting motes of light, falling like dust.
So big! So white!
Samael tilted his head back, staring at the deep cleavage that looked large enough to fit half his head. His throat moved unconsciously.
In terms of volume and depth...
Ahem, I’m a proper serpent—her height is what matters!
The ancient serpent cleared his throat and forced himself to refocus, though his guilty glance lingered on Medusa. She stood over two meters tall, pale yellow wings folded, golden-scaled arms half-concealing her chest.
“Winged Serpent, Composite Divinity, Gorgon? You’ve recovered, Ana?”
Samael studied the familiar figure, part surprise, part sentiment, as he questioned his old friend.
Medusa closed her eyes briefly, sensing her state. When she opened them again, she gave a small nod, brushing aside her flowing purple-red hair.
“Yes. The Golden Apple restored the divinity and immortality I had lost, hastening my growth.”
“Though my divine power now is less than a third of what it was in the Blood Fort, I feel more complete—and more rational—than I did then.”
As the serpent goddess reflected, her gaze lingered on the beastly claws covered in golden scales. At her will, the Ether forming a protective shell around her body retracted and flowed back.
In an instant, the golden scales faded from her skin, the fangs receded, and her hands once again revealed smooth, translucent flesh. The pale yellow wings still fluttered softly, framing her divine and graceful beauty.
Honestly, I think the Gorgon form really hits my type. It would’ve been fine if she stayed like that.
Samael watched Medusa shift from a fierce, untamed enchantress into an elegant, composed goddess, inwardly lamenting the change.
Medusa stepped closer, standing before him. Realizing she towered a full head above him, her cheeks flushed. She bit her lip lightly, brows knitting.
Ether welled within her, surging toward her divine core as she began to suppress her form.
Without the life force sustaining it, her towering figure shrank rapidly, dwindling to a more normal height of about 1.67 meters.
Even worse, her once-impressive chest reduced proportionally with the rest of her body.
Stop! Stop! The chest didn’t do anything wrong—don’t do this to yourself!
Samael, who had been hoping to keep enjoying the view—and maybe even get some hands-on experience—howled inwardly, on the verge of tears.
Back in the Blood Fort, when he had taken on the form of a black serpent and slid down the “Deep Mountain Gorge,” it had been an unforgettable ride.
Now, the ticket to relive that memory was gone.
As the old pervert sulked, Medusa’s height shrank even further—from 1.67 meters down to 1.45, turning her into a short-legged loli.
Samael could only watch as her figure reversed through stages—from watermelon, to hamburger, to fried egg. His shattered fantasies left him too drained to even complain.
Medusa, on the other hand, looked thoroughly pleased. Admiring her delicate limbs and patting her now-weightless chest, she smiled in satisfaction.
Mmm! Just like my sisters. This feels so much more comfortable—and looks better too.
Samael rolled his eyes in silence, soothing his wounded heart.
It’s fine. She can grow bigger again. Three forms just mean triple the fun.
He promptly categorized her transformations:
Lolita-form Ana, standard Medusa, and the oversized Gorgon.
And to honor his own “warrior’s creed,” he secretly gave the third, well-developed form a special name—“Samael’s Delight.”
Not that kind of delight. The kind that recalls the collective memory of the threefold storms of Mesopotamia.
After indulging in a few self-comforting thoughts, the ancient serpent noticed Medusa had thoroughly enjoyed her long-desired loli form, and stepped forward with a solemn reminder.
“Six days remain until the arrival of Nyx’s three daughters. Let’s hurry.”
Medusa steadied her mind and gave a solemn nod. To enter a complete state for resonating with the Golden Apple Tree, she reluctantly released her control over her life force.
In that instant, Samael’s Delight form resurfaced, making the onlooker nearby flush red and steal glance after glance, heart racing uncontrollably.
But just as her comprehension of the Earth’s divine authority was about to begin, Medusa halted beneath the Golden Apple Tree and turned back toward the ancient serpent.
“Samael, you should pick your own golden apple first. I’m worried that while I’m attuning to the Earth Mother Goddess’s divinity, I might affect the tree.”
The ancient serpent thought briefly, then, unwilling to dismiss her kindness, nodded and stepped forward. He raised his hand and plucked a fruit from the Golden Apple Tree’s branch.
After a few steps, however, Samael seemed to recall something. He snuck back to his spot, lifted his right hand hesitantly, then carefully picked another one.
Hm? It worked!
No one ever said I could only take one! Damn, I’ve struck gold!
Seeing his suspicion confirmed, the ancient serpent’s eyes gleamed. He immediately fixed on another golden apple and reached out.
The leaves rustled softly under the slight tug.
But when his claw stretched for a fourth gleaming fruit, the branch shuddered violently.
“Smack!”
Samael hissed, sucking in a sharp breath as he pulled back his swollen claw, glaring at the vine that had whipped out like a serpent. He muttered bitterly to himself.
Looks like three golden apples was the limit that the Earth Mother would turn a blind eye to.
Tch, stingy!
Knowing he had no chance of stripping the tree bare, Samael backed off beyond the fence, disheartened. He activated the magic array, leaving the rest of the time to Medusa as she awaited her trial.
Hum!
The moment Samael stepped beyond the boundary, the soil around the Golden Apple Tree began to surge. Brown-yellow rocks rose like buds, closing inward toward the center.
At the same time, faint rustling filled the air as the golden branches fell like a curtain, drawing Medusa’s figure into their embrace.
This was the golden apple—the delicacy of the gods, the treasure mortals longed for. Whoever ate it would gain immortality and pure life force.
Samael stood before it, rolling one of the golden apples in his hand, silently marveling at his luck.
Just as he found the temptation nearly irresistible and was about to take a bite, his peripheral vision caught sight of a dragonkind sprawled across the sacred garden’s clearing—half its heads asleep, the other half on alert.
“Hey, how about a game of cards?”
Ladon lowered his gaze at the long serpent teacher smiling up at him. Instinctively clutching his jewel, the hundred or so awakened heads shook in unison.
