Ash and Vaeloria stood outside the Chamber dressed like royalty carved from night itself.
Ash wore a high-collared coat of midnight black, the fabric woven from threads of solidified starlight.
Golden runes crawled along the cuffs and hem like living ember, pulsing faintly with every breath. Beneath it, a sleeveless vest of deep crimson clung to his frame, leaving his arms bare to show the sculpted power he now carried.
A single thin chain of black gold looped from shoulder to waist, holding a small obsidian pendant shaped like a cracked crown.
Vaeloria, hanging possessively on his arm, wore a flowing dress of liquid shadow that shifted between deep violet and absolute black.
"Now that the eighteen months are up," she spoke, "what's the plan? You never told me."
Ash's smile was slow, wicked.
"Isn't it better to see than to be told?"
They vanished from the violet meadow.
Outside, six months had passed in Elaris, and the world had not waited quietly.
The Solace Kingdom's expansion was already underway.
Their territory grew from seventy-five thousand to eighty-five thousand kilometers, claimed not through war but through high-stakes wagers. They challenged neighboring realms to champion duels with land and resources at stake—winner takes all.
They never lost.
Aster masterminded each match like a grand strategist, poisoning three rival generals before their fights, bribing officials, and spreading rumors that crushed enemy morale before swords were even drawn.
Shia fought with icy precision, her twin blades slicing through knights while her smile stayed cold; every win brought her closer to the throne she believed was hers.
Draven roared with laughter as he splintered shields and bones, treating each duel like a rowdy tavern fight, his spear drinking deep until the arena floors ran red.
And Nia… she burned like a falling star. Her bloodline turned battlefields into charnel grounds; whole formations knelt or perished when she advanced.
Yet even that wasn't enough.
In the throne room, the royal family stood around a lesser projection stele, faces grim. Fresh blood still stained their clothes from the latest wager.
The projection showed devastation: three kingdoms conquered, banners burned, capitals kneeling.
Kale's face filled the stele, smiling, A-rank aura blazing like a second sun.
"He conquered three kingdoms?" Aster's voice cracked. "In six months?"
"And reached A-rank," Shia whispered, fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned a bit white.
"Fighting him now means annihilation," Aster continued.
Lyssandra closed her eyes. "We can only pray his demands aren't monstrous."
Draven spat on the marble floor. "Father, where's that trash prince? I need to break something."
Caelum shook his head. "Somewhere in the palace, I assume."
Nia opened her mouth to protest—
The throne room doors creaked open.
Ash walked in wearing his old frail form, bony shoulders hunched, dull gold eyes downcast. On his shoulder perched a tiny abyssal-black fox with ten flowing tails and a full moon glowing on its forehead.
"Ashy?" Nia breathed, heart slamming against her ribs.
Caelum frowned.
Aster scoffed.
Shia rolled her eyes.
Lyssandra's gaze lingered.
Draven laughed, loud and cruel.
"Haha! Speak of trash, and trash appears!" He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and summoned his spear in a burst of crimson light.
Nia, witnessing it all, wanted to move, but when she saw the way Ash looked at Draven, she couldn't help but hesitate.
Ash looked at Draven with the grin of a starving wolf.
He parted his lips.
|Eros Whisper|
Ten percent of his mana vanished.
A faint pink thread spider-webbed through the air, latching onto every soul in the room except one.
Every single person froze mid-motion.
Ash strolled forward, footsteps echoing like judgment.
"My little Nia~" His voice was like the softest lullaby ever whispered. "I kept my word, you know." Nia blinked, torn between confusion and longing, until the delicate illusion broke apart.
Muscles surged, skin glowing from within.
In an instant, the broken prince was gone, replaced by six-foot-two of striking ruin and beauty, midnight coat sweeping wide, golden-pink eyes burning like twin suns.
Black-and-white hair shimmered to his neck as power poured from him in waves that made the very air bow.
[Nia Solace Affection 99 %]
[Shia Solace Affection 1 %]
[Lyssandra Solace Affection 52 %]
"Eh?" he thought, noticing his mother's affection, but quickly brushed it aside for later. Right now,
"A-Ashy… you can cultivate?" Nia asked, her body trembling as she stared at his transformation.
He strode up to her, cupped her chin, his thumb grazing her quivering lips, and kissed her deeply in front of the stunned royal family.
The tiny fox on his shoulder nipped his neck in protest.
He smiled against Nia's mouth, pulled back just enough to meet her wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Yes, little Nia. I can cultivate now."
His voice dropped to a possessive murmur that promised ruin to anyone who ever hurt her again.
"And from now on, I will be the one protecting you."
Then he turned to the statues that had once been his family, smile sharpening into something lethal.
"Now… what to do with you lot…"