[A/N: This chapter is a bit long, but informative ;)]
Ash sat upon the throne of Velora; a jagged relic of marble and gold perched precariously amidst the shattered grandeur of the throne room. The once-pristine chamber now bore the scars of battle. Cracked pillars leaning like weary sentinels, stained glass windows reduced to glittering dust on the floor, the air thick with the lingering tang of blood.
Seated on each armrest, vying for every inch of his body with a possessive fervor, were Nia and Vaeloria. Nia's black-white hair spilled across his left shoulder, her warm breath brushing his neck as her fingers traced slow circles on his chest, while Vaeloria's ten tails curled around his right arm, their silken tips brushing his skin like a lover's caress, her moon-marked forehead gleaming softly in the dim light.
[Seris Kaelthar's Affection 44%]
Standing before the trio, their attitudes as different as night and day, were Seris and Thalion. Even despite her affection, Seris's crimson braids hung heavy with sweat and defiance, her ember-red eyes locked on Ash with a smoldering challenge, while Thalion's frail figure, draped in tattered white robes, met his gaze with a calm, almost eager willingness, cracked lenses glinting faintly.
Ash's golden-pink eyes flickered between the two. At a glance, he saw the unyielding fire in Seris's stare and the quiet surrender in Thalion's, and a slow smile curved his lips.
'I'll let it be for now…' he thought.
Then he spoke aloud, his voice a lazy drawl as his hands ran through the girls' hair, fingers tangling in Nia's dual-colored strands and Vaeloria's abyssal locks.
"Alright, I'll be honest. I don't know much about running a kingdom."
The admission hung in the air, raw and unpolished, a truth he hadn't expected to voice so soon. He didn't know how this path would unfold, but one thing burned clear in his mind.
If he was to take up this mantle, he'd do a damned good job of it.
"Really?" Seris snapped, her voice laced with visible frustration, fists clenching at her sides as if she could strike the ignorance from him. "You mean to say you stormed into this kingdom, took the keys, and don't even know how to operate it?"
Thalion, ever the counterpoint, nodded with measured grace, his voice steady despite the ruin around them. "Understandable. Just tell us what you need, and we will get it done. How soon do you plan on announcing to the world that you're Velora's new king?"
The question stirred Ash's curiosity. He tilted his head, brow furrowing slightly. The novel he'd once known had never reached this point; by the end of its first volume, Kale had only at the max reached A-rank and hadn't truly claimed a crown.
Ash's knowledge stopped two kingdoms after Solace fell, leaving him blind to this new game.
"Hmm? Is there a particular rush?" he asked, his confusion genuine.
Seris rolled her eyes so hard the motion was almost audible. The instant those crimson eyes flicked with disdain, Nia was already sliding off the armrest, planting herself half a step, in front of the throne, chin high, golden flames licking at her knuckles.
"And you're looking with those eyes because?" Her words sliced the air like ice, freezing Thalion mid-breath as he opened his mouth to speak.
Seris turned her gaze to the fiery interloper, assessing her with a single sweep. At a glance, she pegged Nia as Late B-rank, a child compared to her own might, yet the audacity of the girl's challenge made her scoff.
She glanced at Ash, then Vaeloria, whose presence remained an enigma even to her seasoned senses. Shaking her head with renewed exasperation, she pressed on.
"Why are you speaking out? If those two weren't present, would you even dare to speak?"
Nia froze, the words echoing in her mind not with revelation but with a sting she'd never felt before. The golden child, the slayer, the protector who had always stood above her foes—now she was being looked down upon. Her fists clenched, golden flames flaring as she teetered on the edge of violence, until Ash's voice cut through the tension like a soothing balm.
"Little Nia… not now. Business first."
She exhaled sharply, the flames dying as she returned to the armrest, her body brushing against his with a possessive edge. On her way back, her eyes locked with Vaeloria's, a silent message passing between them—'training. ASAP!'. Vaeloria's lips curved into a knowing smile, her dark eyes gleaming with agreement.
Ash gestured to Thalion, who stepped forward to explain the crown's significance. The scholar's voice was a dry recitation, each word carrying the weight of centuries: the tradition began with the Era of Kings, born when the Elarian Kingdom forged the first dominion.
The World Kingdom Ranking Stele bestowed an illusory crown upon its ruler—a symbol of power, yes, but also a devastating tool. It granted the loyalty of every soul under the banner and, once a year, allowed the ruler to wield twenty percent of the combined strength of all cultivators sworn to him/her.
The revelation danced in Ash's mind.
'So, basically it gives me the loyalty of all those in the kingdom… and also allows me to use twenty percent of the power of every cultivator under the banner. Once a year.'
The prospect was enticing—loyalty and power at his fingertips—but Ash wasn't moved so easily. Did he need the boost? Perhaps, but he had a plan brewing. One that required his face staying under the radar... for now.
"Alright, I won't take upon the crown. But it will indeed stay in my possession. The thing I need to know the most… I need a list of names of the most talented this kingdom has to offer, a list of the treasury, equipment, and…"
His voice trailed off as his he listed a few things he wanted to deal with first.
And all the while he had been busy, the outside world had not paused its relentless march.
------
While a new king claimed Velora's throne, an... ambition rolled toward Solace.
A convoy devoured the pale scar of the royal highway with relentless precision, six massive mana-powered carriages thundering forward in perfect formation. Polished obsidian frames, laced with glowing gold runes that pulsed like living veins, drank deeply from the ambient mana, driving twenty-four iron-shod wheels across the darkening plains.
Crimson banners bearing the crowned serpent of House Voss snapped overhead, catching the last crimson streaks of the dying sun, a harbinger of doom for the kingdom ahead.
At the forefront, atop the lead carriage, a mobile throne of dark steel and crimson velvet hovered three meters above the roof, supported by pillars of shimmering mana. Kale Voss lounged there like a king already crowned, long black hair whipping wildly in the wind, blue eyes cold and bright as winter stars piercing the twilight.
His cloak of midnight silk, lined with royal purple from conquered houses, billowed behind him like a storm cloud ready to break.
Flanking the throne platform were two women who had become more than mere tools in his rise.
Standing to the left stood Sylvara, nineteen, Late A-rank, skin pale as moonlight, waist-length ink-black hair, violet eyes that could drown a man's soul. Her backless dress of liquid black silk clung to every lethal curve, slits riding high on both thighs to reveal legs wrapped in silver chain-daggers.
To the right stood Rhea, twenty-eight, Peak A-rank, sun-bronzed muscle and scars, short scarlet hair, amber eyes burning with permanent war-hunger. Crimson scale armor left arms and midriff bare, glowing runic tattoos pulsing with each heartbeat, spear planted point-down behind her like a declaration.
The throne lowered through the roof into the rolling palace within. Crimson velvet walls, floating chandeliers, war-table with three kingdoms already crossed out in fresh red. Kale leaned back, one boot crossed over the opposite knee, fingers drumming idly as he stared at the marker labeled "Solace Kingdom."
Sylvara knelt fluidly at his left, head bowed. Rhea stood at his right, sword planted.
"Tell me," Kale's voice sounded, low and lazy. "Has my mother made any contact?"
"Love, your mother did contact us a few days ago," Sylvara answered, voice honey and shadow.
"She said everything is good to go. You just have to show up and work your charm~" She offered a smile that could start wars.
Kale grinned, sharp and hungry. 'Good. Mother is always there.' He thought as he rose from his seat, already shrugging off his shirt, fabric sliding down sculpted muscle.
"It's been far too long since I've tasted you two."
He licked his lips.
In perfect sync, almost autonomous, both women stripped naked and approached him, silk and scale armor pooling on the floor like shed skins. While their convoy rolled ever closer to the fourth kingdom doomed to fall, Kale Voss enjoyed himself.
----
Far from the rolling thunder of Kale's march, Queen Sonna laid alone in the shadowed confines of her private chamber, a room heavy with the scent of jasmine and regret. With her silk sheets already damp with sweat.
A black-and-crimson lotus was branded across her lower abdomen, and womb. It was something that had troubled her for 17 years now, and it had begun to open again, petals peeling back one by one, glowing brighter with every heartbeat. Craving essence surged, thick and molten, flooding her veins until rational thought drowned beneath it.
She hated it, hated the way her thighs parted of their own accord, hated the way her fingers slid down her stomach without permission, tracing the burning mark before slipping lower. A broken whimper escaped her lips as she touched herself, hips arching off the bed, the lotus flaring crimson with every stroke.
"Mmh~"
Memories flashed behind closed eyes; about the night the sweet and loving Sonna began to lose herself. Years ago, she was raped by a King of an unranked kingdom. That was also the night Kale was conceived and coincidentally the same time her doom began.
Tears mixed with sweat as she chased the release her body demanded, fingers moving faster, breath hitching, until climax crashed over her like a punishing wave. The lotus dimmed, petals folding halfway, granting her a few precious hours of clarity.
She lay there afterward, stark naked, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling with eyes full of disgust and self-loathing. This mark on her, the lotus, it was nothing more than a curse. It began growing the night Kale began growing in her womb.
Its presence was so faint at the time that she didn't notice it. Or rather she was just too weak to ever notice such a thing. Over time she eventually noticed it, but even then she couldn't remove it despite all her attempts.
Then when Kale was born the lotus finally bloomed.
And it bloomed into an Aspect.
[Aspect: Insatiable Lotus Heart (S) - The Lotus of Craving. This aspect will cause the user to feel unnaturally horny at times due to the buildup of 'Craving Essence.'
Passive Effects:
-The user's body will continuously generate "Craving Essence," a unique mana that pools in her core and slowly overflows. Every 6 hours the excess essence must be released, or it converts into raw, overwhelming lust that overrides rational thought.
-Skin contact with any person the user finds even mildly attractive multiplies the buildup speed by 300%.
-Orgasm (giving or receiving) is the only way to fully vent the essence without pain; each climax resets the timer and temporarily calms the lotus for 12-48 hours depending on intensity.
Active Effect – Petal Fall
-Once per day the user can force the lotus to bloom fully for exactly nine minutes. During this state: Every male within a 200-meter radius experiences an instant, mind-breaking surge of desire focused solely on the user. (Works up to one major rank higher than the user.)
-Their willpower is treated as if it's three minor realms lower when resisting the users voice, touch, or suggestions.
-Any verbal promise or oath spoken to the user while under Petal Fall becomes magically binding.
Drawbacks
-If the user goes more than 12 hours without release, the lotus begins devouring user's own life force, dropping one minor rank for every hour after.]
----
And which made matters worse, the Aspect bloomed the day Kale awakened his SSS ranked physique. Once she learned of the ability he had, the power to become a king amongst kings, her dream for revenge became real.
It all was perfect.
She had the power to bind a promise, and he had the ability to take crowns simply by an agreement. However, this all left her stepping further and further away from who she truly was.
The once innocent and loving maid.
However, her personal feelings truthfully mattered naught. The lotus would force her one way or another.
And with that came....
Months of her working on seduction and charm. Anytime Kale was in seclusion she would practice around the kingdom and when he was free, she would practice on him. The first time she needed a release it was Kale who she used.
But the day he left to put their plans into motion. Was the day the final shred of the innocent and loving maid left.
For six months she seduced the kings, princes, and even prime ministers of the Kingdoms her and Kale mapped out. She planned it all perfectly, she would meet them days or weeks before Kale arrived at their Kingdom. By the time she was done all he would need from them is a simple yes.
And how could they lie to her?
So, for months spent her time spreading her legs for kings and those of importance, stealing their oaths while Kale marched to their doorstep.
All this time she mascaraed her filth saying it was for the kingdom, for her son, for revenge, when every night the flower reminded her, she was nothing but a prisoner of her own flesh.
A shiver wracked her. She sat up and dressed herself with mechanical precision, smoothing royal velvet over skin that no longer felt like hers.
'He should be arriving at the Solace Kingdom soon. After that it's one more before we finally pay that bastard back.'
Her reflection in the mirror showed a beautiful queen with dead eyes.
She walked out of the room. In the corridor beyond, her sister Yonna waited, lounging against a pillar with a teasing smile.
"Let's go, we have to meet with the Darklight Kingdom."
"Oh, another target already?" Yonna laughed lightly. "King Caelum only left a few days ago, you know."
Sonna rolled her eyes, a practiced gesture to hide the ache. She never blamed Yonna for the jabs; her sister didn't know the truth.
'To her… I probably became a whore overnight.'
The thought deepened the disgust, but she buried it behind her regal facade as the two sisters left the room, footsteps echoing into the shadowed hall.