Demon Wolf Reincarnation ~A Perverted Licking Freak Licks the Other World All Over~
One day, in the great court of the heavens, a supreme god calls forth a defendant. The man's name is Shota—a colossal pervert whose greatest joy in life is licking people. 'You are seriously disgusting!' declares the god, sending Shota to another world as punishment. But it's no ordinary banishment. He is reincarnated as a 'Garm,' a gigantic demon wolf with a terrifying appearance.
The god's logic is simple: with such a scary look, humans will either flee or try to kill him on sight. No way he
Demon Wolf Reincarnation ~A Perverted Licking Freak Licks the Other World All Over~ - Lick-Lick Rescue Mission! The Clean Elf's First Teary-Eyed, Sloppy Experience
Deep within the lush, verdant expanse of the Great Forest Sea. In a night forest shrouded in mist, a faint light flickered unsteadily.
Miriru Erufinea held a magical light aloft with trembling fingertips. Her long silver hair clung to her face, tangled by the damp night wind. In her clear, emerald-green eyes, a distinct shade of terror was clearly visible.
"To encounter a pack of Fog Wraiths on a night like this..."
The hem of her white robe was already soiled with mud, and blood streamed from the calf of her right leg. From the deeply torn wound, blood gushed out relentlessly. Beyond the mist, three, then four, ghostly white figures wavered. Fog Wraiths—spectral entities of mist, A-rank magical beasts against which physical attacks were useless.
(To think I'd die in a place like this... without ever being purified in the sacred springs of the elves.)
Miriru clenched her teeth. The bleeding was so severe her vision was beginning to blur. She raised a hand to counterattack with magic, but her mana scattered into mist at her fingertips.
The Fog Wraiths slowly tightened their encirclement. A cold, misty tendril was about to coil around Miriru's ankle—at that moment.
—Boom.
One of the Fog Wraiths suddenly burst apart from the inside.
Its misty body scattered in all directions, its spirit core shattering. The remaining Fog Wraiths whirled around in panic. Standing there, backlit by the starlight, was a massive black shadow.
Its shoulder height easily exceeded two meters, and the jet-black fur covering its entire body glittered and sparkled as if it had trapped the stars of the night sky within. Golden eyes narrowed with delight upon finding prey.
It was the Demon Wolf Garumu—Perolil.
"Justification acquired!!"
A loud voice that seemed to echo throughout the entire forest. For an instant, Miriru thought *beautiful*—and immediately cursed her own sensibilities.
Perolil, wagging his tail happily with a *bun-bun* motion, charged towards the remaining Fog Wraiths. It was nothing more than a simple body slam. Yet, the blow delivered by that gigantic body easily pulverized their misty forms. Against the utterly abnormal power of an S-rank dangerous species, A-rank magical beasts were no match at all.
Three, four—the Fog Wraiths were annihilated in the blink of an eye. With the casual ease of someone pulling weeds.
"Alright, all wiped out! Now then—"
Perolil slowly turned around and looked down at Miriru, collapsed on the ground. His golden eyes held a wicked grin.
"Got a reason to lick! Yay! Licking is the best!!"
A chill ran down Miriru's spine, a sensation as if the blood was draining from her body. *No. This isn't rescue. This giant wolf is just a pervert.*
She tried to flee. But her body wouldn't move due to the blood loss.
Perolil placed a giant forepaw gently—yet with a firmness that absolutely would not let her escape—onto Miriru's body. The pink, squishy paw pad pressed down on her abdomen.
"No, stop...!"
Miriru's scream was in vain as Perolil's enormous tongue touched her wound.
It was lukewarm. And a sticky, clinging sensation crawled over her torn skin. It wasn't just a simple lick. As if savoring a gourmet dish, slowly, thoroughly, the entire tongue traced the wound.
"Nooo! It's disgusting! Filthy! Stop! Elves have a culture of purity, you know!!"
The tears wouldn't stop. No matter how much she screamed, Perolil didn't stop. On the contrary, wagging his tail as if enjoying himself, he began meticulously licking her entire body, from the wound to her face, from her face to her arms, from her arms to her fingertips. A floral fragrance wafted up, but to Miriru, even that was a spice of terror.
"It's fine, it's fine. My saliva is specially made. If anything, it'll make you clean."
Perolil's tongue moved with a delicacy as if it were a separate living creature. It traced behind her ears, along her neck, her collarbone—and then returned to the wound. There, he continued licking with particular care, meticulously, as if polishing a work of art.
Miriru's screams of revulsion eventually turned into small sobs, and before long, her consciousness sank into darkness.
***
"Alright, perfectly licked clean! This girl's skin was beautiful to begin with, but now it's even glossier!"
Perolil, fully satisfied, disappeared into the forest. His retreating figure was as light and carefree as a young man who had just taken down his first prey.
Several hours later.
"...Ugh."
By the edge of a cold spring, Miriru awoke. Her head felt hazy. She immediately remembered that nightmarish sensation and frantically checked her right leg.
"Huh...?"
The deep wound was completely gone. Not even a scar remained. As if nothing had ever happened, flawless, translucent white skin was there.
With trembling hands, she rolled up the sleeve of her robe. The sunburn freckles that had long bothered her, and the faint scars from being cut by a branch in her childhood—every single one had vanished without a trace. Under the moonlight, her arm shone beautifully.
"Wha... what is this...? What does it mean...? Old wounds that wouldn't heal even after years of purification in the elven springs..."
Miriru immediately jumped into the spring. She desperately washed her body with the purifying water. No matter how much she scrubbed, it wouldn't come off. On the contrary, the more she washed, the more her skin's radiance increased.
As the water washed over her, she was assaulted by intense inner conflict.
(It should be filthy, so why does it become beautiful? Is this saliva a blessing? Or is it blasphemy against the pure elves?)
No answer came. Only the water slid coldly down her skin.
***
Meanwhile, in another part of the forest.
"Success! It worked properly on a humanoid species too! And as I thought, licking someone feels so good!"
Perolil, in high spirits, wagged his tail as he reflected on tonight's licking session. Remembering Miriru's crying face, he narrowed his eyes in bliss.
"That elf girl was crying at first, but I bet right now she's marveling at her skin. My saliva is the best in the world, after all! Next, I want to lick all sorts of different species!"
At that moment, torchlight flickered from a distant road, and the sound of multiple footsteps began to be heard. The clanking of iron armor. The rough voices of men.
A wicked and innocent grin spread across Perolil's face.
"Oh? The next customers? Or maybe an extermination squad? Either way, it gives me a reason to lick!"
With a light gait, he began to run towards the light.
Having left the spring, Miriru stopped in front of a small shrine. It was a place she had stopped to offer a prayer to the spirit of the spring. There, she suddenly remembered the words Perolil had said as he left.
*'Your skin was beautiful to begin with, but now it's even glossier.'*
She stared at her own arm and murmured quietly.
"It's precisely because there's no malice that everything is so wrong. But if this power is left unchecked, the Selvahn Forest, Hailwint, the whole world will be thrown into saliva-soaked chaos..."
Just then, a single piece of paper posted on the shrine's bulletin board flapped noisily in the wind. Miriru's emerald-green eyes caught the characters illuminated by the moonlight.
*'S-Rank Dangerous Species: Demon Wolf Garumu (Individual Name: Perolil) — Extermination Reward: 500 Gold Coins'*
It was a wanted poster from the Pelgrim League. Adventurers seeking the bounty were already gathering in this forest.
The wind rustled through the forest, ominously.
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