Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 425: The Violet Thunder Pavilion

The golden morning sun cast a brilliant, fiery glow over the temporary encampment, illuminating the manicured profound-stone courtyards and the heavily warded silk pavilions. The air was crisp, carrying the faint, lingering scent of the distant wilderness, but the atmosphere within the camp was one of solemn, inevitable departure. The diverging paths of the Celestial Dragon Empire’s most prominent figures had finally manifested into physical reality.

At the center of the encampment, standing before a sleek, heavily armored flying carriage, was Gu Ling. The Heiress of the Ancient Gu Clan was dressed in her pristine, signature pale lavender silks, her dark hair cascading perfectly down her back in an intricate, elegant braid. Outwardly, she was the absolute epitome of aristocratic grace and untouchable dignity.

Standing a few paces away from her was Feng Xiao. The Flame King wore his simple blue robes, his stoic, handsome face marked by a profound, agonizing reluctance to say goodbye.

“The time has come, Ling’er,” Feng Xiao spoke softly, his voice carrying the heavy, heroic burden of his ambitions. He stepped closer, though he maintained a respectful distance, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. “I will depart for the Third Prince’s faction within the hour. The political battlefield awaits, and I must secure the resources to forge our future.”

“You will succeed, Brother Xiao,” Gu Ling replied, her ethereal eyes meeting his. She offered him a soft, encouraging smile, perfectly executing the role of the devoted lover. “Your talent with the Heavenly Flames is unmatched. The Third Prince will undoubtedly recognize your supreme worth.”

“And you must focus entirely on your secluded meditation,” Feng Xiao urged, his gaze filled with unwavering devotion. “The awakening of your Gu Clan’s Divine Grade Martial Emperor Bloodline is a monumental trial. To reach the Half-Emperor Realm… it will demand everything you have. Do not let the politics of the capital distract you.”

“I will not,” Gu Ling promised gently, her hands folding neatly in front of her waist. “I am returning directly to my clan’s isolated domain. I will plunge into the deepest ancestral caves. When we meet again, Brother Xiao, I will not be a burden. I will be strong enough to stand beside you.”

Feng Xiao nodded, his chest swelling with pride and affection. “I will use the communication artifact you gave me. We will not truly be apart. Safe travels, my Ling’er.”

“And to you, Brother Xiao,” Gu Ling bowed her head slightly.

She turned and gracefully boarded her heavily guarded carriage. As the heavy, rune-inscribed doors clicked shut, completely isolating her from the outside world, the pristine, dignified facade she had maintained instantly dissolved.

Gu Ling leaned back against the plush velvet seating, a long, shuddering sigh escaping her lips. Her body ached with a deep, throbbing emptiness. Her massive, heavy breasts felt overly sensitive against the lavender silk, and her inner thighs trembled with a phantom, lingering heat. She had played her part flawlessly. She had sent the protagonist off on his treacherous journey, ensuring he remained utterly devoted and ready to fetch legendary treasures for her Master.

But as her carriage slowly lifted into the sky, banking toward the distant, isolated territories of the Ancient Gu Clan, Gu Ling did not think of her upcoming Divine Grade bloodline awakening, nor did she think of Feng Xiao’s heroic vows. Her mind was entirely, hopelessly consumed by the memory of Alaric’s massive, rock-hard erection stretching her tight passage, and the dark, intoxicating pleasure of his hands bruising her flesh. She was heading into years of secluded meditation, and the agonizing withdrawal from her Master’s cock was already beginning to tear at her corrupted soul.

Down in the encampment, Feng Xiao watched her carriage disappear into the clouds before turning his resolute gaze toward the horizon. Accompanied by a small, elite contingent of guards he had requisitioned, the Flame King departed, marching steadfastly toward the sprawling territories of the Third Prince.

Standing in the shadows of the primary imperial pavilion, Alaric watched the entire parting sequence with a dark, incredibly villainous smirk playing on his handsome features. The board had been perfectly cleared. The protagonist was marching blindly into the political meat grinder, entirely motivated by a woman who was already a desperately broken slut.

“The pieces are in motion,” Alaric murmured to himself, turning away from the courtyard.

He walked smoothly toward the largest, most opulent golden carriage in the convoy. Waiting patiently outside the heavy, reinforced doors were Commander Jin and the elite veterans of the Imperial Vanguard.

“Master Alaric,” Commander Jin greeted him immediately, snapping to rigid attention and offering a flawless, respectful martial salute. The Half-Step Martial Emperor treated the wandering scholar with the utmost reverence, entirely convinced that Alaric was a peerless medical savior who had single-handedly rescued the Imperial Women from a horrific spatial collapse. “The Imperial Consorts and the Princesses are already inside, awaiting your presence. The convoy is prepared to depart for the designated province.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Alaric offered a polite, incredibly charming smile, inclining his head with perfect, humble grace. “Please, ensure the flight is as smooth as possible. The royal women are still recovering their vital energies.”

“It shall be done, Master Alaric. We will not disturb you under any circumstances,” Commander Jin promised firmly, signaling his men to secure the outer perimeter of the carriage.

Alaric stepped up into the carriage and pulled the heavy, soundproofed doors shut behind him, locking the intricate arrays into place.

The moment the lock clicked, the atmosphere shifted from formal imperial dignity to absolute, suffocating, dripping debauchery.

The interior of the massive flying carriage was a sprawling, luxurious suite lined with thick velvet carpets and plush, oversized cushions. The air was heavy with the musky, intoxicating scent of raw arousal.

Imperial Consort Shu, Imperial Consort Xian, Princess Huang Mei, Princess Huang Hua, and the Heiress of the Ling Clan, Ling Ying, were gathered in the center of the cabin. To the outside world, they were the most powerful, dignified, and untouchable women in the Celestial Dragon Empire.

But inside this sealed domain, they were completely, utterly naked.

They had discarded their heavy, formal silks the second the doors had closed. Their flawless, incredibly voluptuous bodies were adorned only with the lingering, fading bite marks and the faint, rosy blushes of their profound sexual addiction.

As Alaric turned around, all five women immediately dropped to their hands and knees upon the velvet carpet. They bowed their heads, their massive, heavy breasts swaying and pressing against the floorboards, their wide, curvaceous hips raised submissively in the air.

“Welcome back, Master,” the five beauties chorused in perfect, devoted unison, their voices dripping with a filthy, desperate hunger that completely betrayed their noble bloodlines.

Alaric’s ruby eyes swept over his magnificent, conquered harem. He casually unbuckled his dark trousers, letting them fall to the floor. His massive, heavily veined dick sprang free, already rock-hard and throbbing with the terrifying Yang vitality of his Azure Spirit Lion bloodline.

“You all look absolutely beautiful on your knees,” Alaric praised them, his deep voice sending visible shivers down their spines. He walked forward, stopping right in front of the two mature, breathtaking milfs.

He reached down and grabbed the thick, dark hair of Imperial Consort Shu and Imperial Consort Xian, pulling their heads up.

“Ahhh… Master…” Imperial Consort Shu whimpered, her ethereal eyes gazing up at his thick shaft with absolute, mindless adoration. Her massive, motherly breasts heaved rapidly. “Please… my pussy has been so empty all morning…”

“Mnnn… ignore her, Master… use my mouth first… Ohhh…” Imperial Consort Xian begged, her lush lips parting eagerly as she leaned forward, completely discarding her fierce, commanding persona.

Alaric chuckled darkly. With a subtle pulse of his magical will, he cast the Sound-Severing Void Ward over the interior of the carriage, ensuring that even the most violent, explosive screams of pleasure would be completely muffled from Commander Jin and the guards flying just outside the windows.

He didn’t make them wait. He dropped onto the plush velvet seating, leaning back and spreading his muscular legs.

“Ling Ying, Huang Mei, Huang Hua,” Alaric commanded lazily. “Massage my legs and shoulders. Keep me comfortable.”

The three younger, incredibly athletic beauties scrambled forward instantly. Ling Ying wrapped her arms around his right thigh, pressing her soft, exposed midriff against his skin, her hands expertly kneading his calves. Princess Huang Mei and Princess Huang Hua moved behind the seating, their naked, perky breasts pressing against the back of his neck as their delicate hands began to rub the tense muscles of his broad shoulders.

Alaric looked down at the two incredibly voluptuous, desperate mothers kneeling between his legs.

“You two,” Alaric growled, grabbing the back of Consort Xian’s head and shoving her face directly into his groin. “Suck it.”

“Mhmmm! Yesss!” Consort Xian moaned into his flesh, opening her mouth wide and taking the blunt, purple head of his massive cock deep past her lips. She began to suck with a wet, sloppy, utterly devoted enthusiasm, her tongue swirling hungrily over the sensitive veins.

Consort Shu wasn’t about to be left out. She crawled closer, pressing her massive, heavy breasts together to trap the base of his shaft in her deep, pale cleavage. She licked his heavy testicles, her tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat of his skin while she provided a vigorous, slippery titty-fuck.

As the carriage lurched gently and began its flight through the clouds, Alaric closed his eyes, entirely enjoying the spectacular, deeply erotic sensation of being serviced by the Emperor’s highest-ranking wives.

After twenty minutes of intense, sloppy oral worship, Alaric pulled his slick, saliva-covered cock from Consort Xian’s mouth.

“Enough,” Alaric ordered, grabbing Consort Shu by her wide, curvaceous hips and pulling her up onto his lap.

“Ahhh… thank you, Master… Mnnn!” Consort Shu gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. She straddled his thighs, her soaking wet, dripping pink pussy hovering just inches above his straining erection.

Alaric gripped her waist firmly and drove his hips upward, burying his entire, monstrous length deep into her tight, mature core with a single, devastating thrust.

“OOHHH! Yesss! AHHHH!” Consort Shu shrieked, her head tossing back as the sheer, overwhelming fullness stretched her inner walls to their absolute breaking point.

He immediately established a brutal, rapid, and deeply punishing rhythm. He bounced her heavy, voluptuous body up and down on his lap, his muscular thighs slapping loudly against her plump, pale buttocks. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

“Mnnn! Deeper, Master! Ahhh! Fuck my royal womb!” Consort Shu wailed, her massive breasts bouncing violently against his chest with every brutal thrust.

While he pounded her, Alaric grabbed Imperial Consort Xian by the arm, pulling her up beside the seating. He forced her to bend over the armrest, her incredibly wide, heart-shaped ass thrust high into the air, presenting her dripping passage perfectly.

“Mhmmm… Master… please… my turn…” Consort Xian whimpered, her hands gripping the velvet upholstery, her body trembling with unfulfilled need.

Alaric reached out with his free hand, aggressively fondling Consort Xian’s heavy, swinging breasts from beneath, ruthlessly pinching her stiff nipples while he continued to absolutely destroy Consort Shu’s pussy.

“You are both such incredibly filthy, perfect sluts,” Alaric taunted them, his voice a dark, hypnotic rumble. He bit down sharply on Consort Shu’s neck, drawing a loud, breathless moan from her lips. “To think, the entire Celestial Dragon Empire bows to you. The Emperor trusts you. And yet, here you are, completely naked in a carriage, begging a wandering scholar to stretch your holes.”

“Ahhh! We are! Mnnn! We are your sluts!” Consort Shu sobbed, her ethereal eyes glazed over with pure, unadulterated sexual ecstasy. Her inner walls milked his shaft with desperate, involuntary spasms.

It was in this moment of absolute, overwhelming vulnerability and mind-shattering pleasure that Imperial Consort Xian spoke up, her voice trembling with a mixture of profound submission and desperate longing.

“Master… please…” Consort Xian begged, turning her head to look at him with tear-filled eyes, her wide hips twitching instinctively against the armrest. “When… when you fuck me… Ohhh… please, do not call me Imperial Consort Xian anymore.”

Alaric paused his thrusting for a fraction of a second, intrigued. “Oh? You no longer like your title?”

“Mnnn… it is a title that belongs to him… to the Emperor…” Consort Xian whimpered, her face flushing a brilliant crimson. “I don’t belong to him anymore. I belong entirely to your cock. Please, Master… call me by my true name. Make me yours completely. I am Zhao Mengxue.”

Consort Shu, still impaled on his massive dick, gasped in agreement, her arms tightening around his neck.

“Yesss… Ahhh! Me too, Master!” Consort Shu pleaded, her massive breasts heaving against his chest. “I am so tired of being his Consort. I only want to be your whore. Please, call me Su Xinyue. Fuck Su Xinyue’s pussy!”

Alaric’s wicked smile widened into a grin of absolute, demonic victory. The psychological conditioning was complete. They were actively shedding their imperial identities, begging him to strip away their ties to the Emperor and claim them as ordinary, devoted women.

“As you wish,” Alaric growled, his lust surging to terrifying new heights.

He grabbed Su Xinyue (formerly Consort Shu) by her wide hips and resumed pounding her with devastating, animalistic ferocity.

“Take it, Xinyue,” Alaric commanded roughly, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a stinging red handprint. “Take my cock deep into your womb, Xinyue!”

“AHHH! Yesss! Ohhh! Master!” Su Xinyue shrieked, the sound of her true name mixed with the blinding physical pleasure pushing her completely over the edge. She climaxed violently, her body going rigidly taut as her inner walls crushed his shaft in a series of milking convulsions.

Alaric seamlessly pulled out of Xinyue with a loud pop, letting her exhausted, twitching body slump onto the cushions beside him. He immediately stood up, stepping behind the bent-over form of Zhao Mengxue (formerly Consort Xian).

He gripped Mengxue’s incredibly wide, luscious hips and drove his thick, cum-slicked shaft directly into her dripping, desperately aching pussy from behind.

“OOHHH! AHHHH! Finally! Yesss!” Zhao Mengxue wailed, her back arching deeply as he buried himself to the hilt.

“You like it from behind, don’t you, Mengxue?” Alaric taunted, his hips snapping forward like a piston, driving deep into her cervix. He reached around, his large hands aggressively kneading her massive, heavy breasts, his thumbs rolling over her dark pink areolas. “Does the Emperor ever fuck Mengxue’s tight pussy this hard?”

“Never! Mnnn! Ahhh! He is weak! His cock is nothing compared to yours, Master!” Mengxue babbled, completely abandoning all reverence for her husband. “Fuck Mengxue! Break Mengxue’s foundation! Ohhh!”

For the next several hours, the massive flying carriage became a crucible of profound, relentless debauchery. Alaric fucked the two mature, incredibly voluptuous milfs into total degradation. He took Su Xinyue against the wooden wall of the carriage, holding her long, fair legs up by her ankles, pounding her until she forgot her own name. He threw Zhao Mengxue onto her back on the velvet carpet, folding her muscular legs over his broad shoulders, and drove into her until she was sobbing incoherently, begging him for his seed.

He climaxed inside them multiple times, pumping thick, scalding hot loads of his potent semen deep into their royal wombs, marking them eternally as his property.

When the mothers were entirely spent, twitching and panting in a tangled heap of sweaty, flushed limbs, Alaric turned his attention to their daughters. He fucked Princess Huang Mei and Princess Huang Hua with equal, devastating brutality, enjoying their athletic, youthful bodies while their mothers watched in hazy, exhausted adoration, masturbating their own swollen clitorises as they cheered on their Master.

Eventually, as the afternoon sun began to wane, the frantic pace within the carriage slowed to a comfortable, deeply intimate lull.

Alaric reclined on his throne of cushions, his chest rising and falling steadily. Ling Ying was nestled comfortably against his side, her head resting on his shoulder, while Huang Hua and Huang Mei lay curled up at his feet. Su Xinyue and Zhao Mengxue sat on either side of his legs, their massive breasts resting gently on his thighs, their hands lazily tracing patterns over his skin.

“You have all performed beautifully today,” Alaric murmured, his hand gently stroking Xinyue’s damp hair.

“We only wish to please you, Master,” Xinyue sighed happily, leaning into his touch.

“And you shall have many more opportunities,” Alaric promised, his ruby eyes narrowing with a calculating, strategic light. “But we must look to the future. Our journey to the capital region is nearly complete. We are currently flying toward a highly specialized destination—a secluded, heavily warded mansion situated far outside the immediate jurisdiction of the Inner Palace.”

He looked down at the two former Consorts. “I require a new target. My power grows with every beautiful, formidable woman I conquer, and my ambitions require the systematic dismantling of Emperor Huang Long’s power base. Tell me, Mengxue, Xinyue. Who is the most formidable, untouched beauty currently operating within the outer provinces?”

Zhao Mengxue and Su Xinyue exchanged a brief, knowing glance, their political minds—now entirely repurposed to serve Alaric’s harem expansion—working in perfect synchronization.

“If you seek a woman of supreme power and impeccable status, Master,” Zhao Mengxue began, her voice respectful and serious. “Then your next target must absolutely be Noble Consort Cui. Her true name is Cui Yulan.”

“Cui Yulan,” Alaric repeated, the name rolling smoothly off his tongue. “Tell me about her.”

“She is a Martial King, Master, possessing an incredibly potent, devastatingly destructive Lightning Attribute Battle Aura,” Su Xinyue explained, her massive breasts shifting as she sat up slightly. “Unlike Mengxue and myself, who operate primarily within the political spheres of the Inner Palace, Cui Yulan is a warrior of the highest caliber. She rarely sets foot in the capital. Emperor Huang Long granted her absolute jurisdiction over the Violet Pearl Province.”

“She manages the Violet Thunder Pavilion,” Mengxue elaborated, her ethereal eyes shining with respect for her peer. “It is the premier righteous sect in the empire. On behalf of the Emperor, she commands an alliance of righteous factions, dedicating her entire existence to ruthlessly hunting down and exterminating the demonic sects that plague the outer territories—specifically the Blood Lotus Cult and the Nether-Soul Grudge Sect.”

Alaric’s interest was immediately, fiercely piqued. A righteous, battle-hardened Noble Consort who hunted demonic cultivators. Conquering a woman of such strict, unyielding moral absolute would be an incredibly entertaining, immensely satisfying psychological challenge.

“A lightning attribute,” Alaric mused, his fingers drumming against the velvet armrest. “Is her power derived purely from cultivation, or does she possess a lineage?”

“She possesses a terrifying Bloodline Manifestation, Master,” Su Xinyue revealed, her voice dropping to a hushed, reverent whisper. “It is said she has perfectly integrated the bloodline of a legendary, mythical lightning beast. The Nine-Heavens Violet-Gold Suanni. It is a creature that holds a fraction of a true Lightning Beast Emperor’s lineage within its marrow. When she unleashes her full power, the skies literally tear open with violet lightning.”

Alaric’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of profound, magical adrenaline flooding his veins.

The Nine-Heavens Violet-Gold Suanni.

His Archmage intellect immediately processed the elemental and spiritual compatibility. The Suanni was a creature of pure, destructive, supreme Yang-Lightning energy. His own bloodline, the Azure Spirit Lion, possessed boundless, majestic Yin-Wind and raw physical vitality. The two bloodlines were legendary, mythological counterparts.

If he could successfully seduce and thoroughly conquer Cui Yulan, if he could repeatedly fuck her into submission and absorb the vast, incredibly pure Yin-Lightning energy of her Nine-Heavens Violet-Gold Suanni bloodline through his Sovereign Soul Bond… the resulting elemental synthesis would be absolutely catastrophic. It would forcefully, permanently mutate and evolve his Azure Spirit Lion bloodline, elevating it instantly to the realm of a true, unadulterated Beast Emperor.

His physical strength, his magical reserves, and his overall power would skyrocket, bringing him one massive step closer to standing toe-to-toe with a True Martial Emperor like Huang Long.

“Cui Yulan,” Alaric smiled, a dark, incredibly hungry glint in his ruby eyes. “She sounds absolutely perfect. But a woman of such righteous fury and martial discipline will not be easily lured into a secluded bedchamber. How do we make contact without alerting her formidable guards or arousing her suspicion?”

“It will be difficult, Master, but not impossible,” Zhao Mengxue reasoned, her strategic mind calculating the angles. “She is notoriously strict, paranoid, and highly suspicious of the Inner Palace politics. She despises weakness.”

“However,” Su Xinyue interjected, a cunning smile gracing her beautiful lips. “She is also fiercely loyal to the stability of the empire. Mengxue and I possess immense political leverage. We can send a formal, highly encrypted imperial missive to her Violet Thunder Pavilion.”

“What will the missive say?” Alaric asked, his hands gently stroking Ling Ying’s hair.

“We will claim that our convoy was subjected to a horrific, unprecedented attack by a Half-Step Beast Emperor—the Storm-Winged Void Gryphon—and that we suspect the beast was deliberately agitated by agents of the Blood Lotus Cult to assassinate the Imperial Family,” Su Xinyue proposed flawlessly. “We will state that we require her immediate, expert martial consultation regarding the demonic sects’ movements, and that we are halting our journey at a secure mansion within her Violet Pearl Province to recover. We will humbly request her presence for a highly classified summit.”

“She will not be able to resist,” Mengxue agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “The prospect of demonic involvement in an attack on the Imperial Consorts will force her to investigate personally. She will come to us.”

Alaric threw his head back and laughed, a rich, dark sound that vibrated through the carriage. His sluts were truly invaluable. They were actively, brilliantly plotting the downfall and sexual corruption of their own peer.

“You two are absolutely brilliant, my devious little whores,” Alaric praised them, reaching down to grab their chins, pulling them up for deep, bruising kisses. “We will proceed exactly as you suggest. We will establish our base at the mansion in the Violet Pearl Province, and we will lay the snare for Noble Consort Cui Yulan.”

For the next two days, the convoy flew steadily toward their destination.

The journey became a fascinating, highly compartmentalized display of stark contrasts.

On the outside, whenever the carriages landed to allow the Golden Spirit Dragons to rest, the facade was maintained with absolute, flawless perfection. Alaric would step out of the carriage dressed in his simple, neat scholar’s robes, his demeanor incredibly respectful, polite, and unassuming. He would bow to Commander Jin, speak softly of medical theories, and maintain a perfectly appropriate physical distance from the royal women.

Imperial Consort Xian (Zhao Mengxue), Imperial Consort Shu (Su Xinyue), Princess Huang Mei, Princess Huang Hua, and Ling Ying would emerge looking like untouchable goddesses. Their elegant silks were immaculate, their hair perfectly styled, their expressions masks of haughty, unapproachable imperial dignity. They commanded the guards with cold authority, radiating the pristine, terrifying power of the Celestial Dragon Empire.

No guard, no servant, and certainly no passing martialist could ever possibly suspect the truth.

But the very second the heavy, soundproofed doors of the primary carriage clicked shut and the Sound-Severing Void Ward flared to life, the illusion violently shattered.

The elegant silks were instantly torn away. The dignified postures collapsed into desperate, crawling submission. The aristocratic silence was replaced by the wet, slapping sounds of flesh, the filthy, breathless moans of orgasmic bliss, and the constant, demanding growls of the Archmage.

“Mnnn! Ahhh! Master, please… fuck my mouth while Mother rides you!” Princess Huang Hua would beg, her face smeared with saliva.

“Yesss… Ohhh… fill Mengxue’s womb, Master… Ahhh!” Imperial Consort Xian would sob, her massive breasts bouncing wildly as she took him doggy-style against the velvet walls.

Alaric enjoyed them thoroughly, rotating between the five incredibly voluptuous, beautiful women, exploring every conceivable erotic position, and ensuring their bodies remained in a constant, dripping state of profound sexual addiction. The public dignity only served to heighten the intensely arousing, taboo nature of their private depravity.

Finally, on the afternoon of the third day, the golden convoy began its descent.

They had crossed the borders into the Violet Pearl Province, a sprawling, vibrant territory characterized by rolling hills, deep, crystalline lakes, and a sky that frequently crackled with distant, ambient lightning storms.

The convoy landed gently within the expansive, walled courtyards of a massive, incredibly luxurious mansion estate that had been pre-secured by the Imperial Family’s logistical vanguard. The estate was secluded, surrounded by dense bamboo forests and high, rune-inscribed walls, offering perfect privacy.

“Secure the perimeter, Commander Jin,” Zhao Mengxue ordered coldly, stepping out of the carriage in her pristine crimson robes, looking every bit the imperious mother of the First Prince. “Establish the inner and outer wards. We will be residing here for several days to recuperate from our ordeal.”

“It shall be done, Imperial Consort,” Commander Jin bowed sharply, immediately dispatching his elite guards to lock down the estate.

Inside the grand, marble-floored receiving hall of the mansion, Alaric stood with his five beautiful sluts, watching the guards hustle outside.

“The stage is set,” Alaric murmured, his ruby eyes glowing with dark anticipation. “Xinyue, Mengxue. Draft the missive immediately. Send your fastest, most trusted courier to the Violet Thunder Pavilion.”

“Yes, Master,” Su Xinyue smiled, already moving toward a nearby writing desk. “Cui Yulan will receive it by nightfall. She is incredibly diligent; she will likely arrive here within two days.”

“Excellent,” Alaric grinned, cracking his knuckles. He looked around the opulent mansion, visualizing the perfect, isolated rooms where he would slowly, methodically break the lightning-wielding Noble Consort. “Let us prepare a warm welcome for the righteous hunter.”