I let go of Elara with a final, lingering squeeze, watching her breasts bounce slightly as she gasped and tried to regain her breath. My focus shifted instantly to the main event.
Lyra and Kaelie were standing so close together they were almost touching, their identical silver-blonde braids framing faces that were masks of pure, shivering anticipation.
"Alright, enough of the appetizer," I said, my voice thick with lust as I stepped toward them. "It's time for the main event. Go ahead then—show me those juicy-looking tits you've got hidden under those gowns."
The twins shared a single, telepathic glance. In perfect synchronization, their hands moved to their collars. There was no hesitation now, only the eerie, rhythmic grace of the Mirror Realm. They pulled the silk ties simultaneously, and the white-and-gold fabric slid off their shoulders like water, pooling at their elbows.
My jaw nearly hit the courtyard floor.
It was a god-tier sight. They were, in every sense of the word, a mirror image. Their breasts were slightly smaller than Elara's but firmer, shaped like perfect, upturned porcelain bowls.
The skin was a pale, translucent alabaster, so fair I could see the faint, delicate tracery of blue veins beneath the surface. Their nipples were small, pale pink buds that tightened into hard peaks at the exact same moment as the cool breeze hit them.
"Holy shit," I whispered. "They really are identical."
"Everything we are is shared, my Lord," Lyra whispered, her voice a soft echo.
"What one feels, the other knows," Kaelie added, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that promised a very interesting experience in the baths later.
I reached out, my left hand cupping Lyra's right breast and my right hand cupping Kaelie's left. The symmetry was intoxicating. They were the same temperature, the same softness, the same weight. When I rolled their nipples between my thumbs, both girls arched their backs and let out a synchronized, high-pitched moan that made the air hum.
"Fascinating," Deborah purred, stepping closer to observe my 'inspection.' "It seems the Lord of Convergence has found a new hobby in anatomical research."
Zeraphis let out a heavy, metallic snort and turned her back to us entirely, though I could see her tail-fin twitching. "You are all degenerates. I should have let the drake eat you."
I ignored the Dark Knight, far too busy enjoying the way the twins were leaning into my touch, their identical hearts beating against my palms in perfect, thudding unison.
"I think," I said, looking back at Deborah, "that the 'training' part of the day is officially over. We have a hot-spring date to get to, don't we?"
Deborah chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "Oh no. Not yet, my Lord. The baths are a ritual for the evening, once the mana has settled. We wouldn't want to break tradition, would we?"
The disciples giggled at my clear impatience, Elara looking particularly pleased with herself as she slowly pulled her robes back together, though she left the ties loose enough to be suggestive.
"So what now?" I asked, trying to shake off the lingering horniness. "I'm not exactly the type to sit around and twiddle my thumbs."
"Elara will show you around the Citadel," Deborah said, her tone shifting back to the authoritative High Summoner. "I have to go and hunt down Vespera. She deserves a proper punishment for deciding to give herself a day off on the Lord's first day of training."
The girls giggled again—Vespera clearly had a reputation for being the resident rebel.
"When will I see you?" I asked Deborah, catching her eye.
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. "Expect me in your quarters again tonight, Lord Karl. We still have... unfinished business." She turned to the red-head. "Elara, be nice to our Lord. Give him anything he might need."
"Yes, my Lady," Elara bowed slightly, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. I didn't need to be told twice what "anything" meant in this context.
Deborah turned and marched off toward the inner spires, taking the twins and the other disciples with her. Their hips swayed in unison as they walked, leaving me alone in the courtyard with Elara and the brooding Dark Knight behind me.
"So, my Lord," Elara purred, stepping into my personal space. She smelled like woodsmoke and jasmine. "What would you like to do first? I'm an excellent guide... for any kind of exploration."
Part of me wanted to bend her over the nearest stone bench and see if she tasted as good as she looked. I wanted to see if I could make her choke on my cock right here in the open air. But the rational part of my brain—the part that wanted to survive the Black Emperor—prevailed. I needed to know where the hell I was.
"Do you have somewhere I can learn about this world?" I asked. "I need to know the geography. The Four Continents, the history of the Black Emperor, how mana actually works... all of it."
Elara blinked, looking a bit surprised that I was choosing books over her body, but she quickly smiled, seemingly impressed by my ambition.
"Knowledge is power, as they say. I will take you to the Great Library. It contains maps of the entire world, from the icy peaks of the North to the Forbidden Sands."
As we walked, Zeraphis trailed behind us like a silent, armored ghost. "A Lord who reads," she muttered. "A rare thing in this era. Most just bleed and die."
As we walked through the sprawling corridors of the Citadel, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. The mages and acolytes we passed didn't just bow; they practically folded themselves in half, their eyes darted toward me with reverence, but quickly snapping toward Zeraphis with pure, unadulterated terror.
To them, she wasn't just a spirit; she was a walking apocalypse. She was the ghost of every mage she had slaughtered in the Great Purge, and the silver scar on her face seemed to glow with a malevolent light in the dim hallways.
Zeraphis did absolutely nothing to ease their nerves. She marched with a heavy, deliberate stomp, her eyes scanning the bowing mages with a look of hungry bloodlust.
She looked like she was counting how many seconds it would take to decapitate every person in the hall. Even Elara, who was supposed to be my guide, kept a noticeable distance from the Dark Knight, her hand twitching toward her mana-pouch.
"They don't like you," I muttered to Zeraphis, glancing at a young acolyte who looked like he was about to faint.
"Clearly. The feeling is mutual," Zeraphis rasped, her voice echoing off the high stone arches. "They smell of cowardice and stale incense. Will you be sending me back into the Void soon? I grow tired of the way they blink."
I looked at her, noting the way her aura was starting to frost the very air around us. "I will, if you don't start behaving. You're scaring the staff, and I'm trying to keep a low profile here."
"A 'low profile'?" She let out a short, harsh bark of a laugh. "You are the Lord of Convergence walking with the Butcher of mages, and you just demanded the breasts of the elite disciples. Your 'profile' is currently visible from the moon, Lord Pervert."
She had a point.