The cold air of the corridors did little to cool the lingering warmth in Raizael's veins after witnessing the illicit display in the western wing. Adjusting the lapels of his dark silk robe, he walked with measured, predatory steps toward his private study. His mind was already calculating the trajectories of the original plot, trying to estimate exactly how much time he had left before the Holy Kingdom noticed their precious Maiden was missing.
He rounded the corner of the grand, gothic gallery, intending to slip straight into his office, when a sudden change in the atmosphere made him halt.
The ambient temperature dropped slightly, replaced by a suffocating, intoxicating sweetness. The scent of crushed black roses and raw, concentrated demonic pheromones flooded his senses.
From the deep shadows of the arched pillar ahead, a silhouette stepped out, completely blocking his path.
It was Lilithia.
She had clearly finished her earlier "festivities" and had changed into a gown that was an absolute crime against modesty. The dress was made of a translucent, midnight-purple silk that clung to her voluptuous curves like a second skin. It was cut dangerously low, exposing the generous, heavy swell of her breasts, while a scandalous slit ran all the way up to her hip, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her thigh with every step she took. Her obsidian wings were tucked tightly against her back, and her pointed tail swayed behind her with a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
"My, my... if it isn't our elusive little prince," Lilithia purred, her voice a low, throat-stretching vibration that resonated straight into Raizael's lower abdomen. She stepped closer, entirely disregarding the concept of personal space. She tilted her head, her glowing amethyst eyes locking onto his. "I couldn't help but notice you wandering around the western wing earlier, Raizael. You looked... lonely. A young man with your lineage shouldn't be wandering these cold halls all by himself."
She reached out, a long, sharp fingernail lightly tracing a line down the center of Raizael's exposed chest, leaving a faint, tingling trail of dark mana in its wake. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his neck. "If you ever find yourself needing a cure for that loneliness, you know where my chambers are. I promise I can teach you things those fragile human girls could never dream of."
Raizael felt his pulse spike, his demonic blood roaring in response to her blatant provocation. Despite the heat he was feeling in his body, he was going to reject her again like several times before but, a familiar, sharp chime rang inside his mind.
[DING! SINFUL SYSTEM HIGH-VALUE TARGET DETECTED]Target: Lilithia (The Matriarch of the Half-Demon Faction)
Current Favorability: 25% (Amused Curiosity / Pure Lust)
System Analysis: Corrupting this target will allow the Host to absorb the 'Primal Succubus Lineage' and instantly seize 40% control over the internal factions of Malgora. Stats multiplier will double upon successful submission.
A dark, knowing smirk spread across Raizael's lips. The system had just confirmed exactly what he needed. Lilithia thought she was the predator playing with a young, naive prince, but she had no idea she had just walked into the crosshairs of a cosmic anomaly.
Instead of backing away or giving into her advances like a flustered boy, Raizael caught her trailing hand. His grip was firm, unyielding, and entirely dominant. He pulled her slightly closer, his crimson eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that caught her completely off guard.
"Your offer is incredibly tempting, Matriarch Lilithia," Raizael murmured, his voice deep, smooth, and laced with absolute confidence. He leaned down, his lips brushing dangerously close to her pointed ear. "But a prince has responsibilities to tend to first. I have some urgent matters to settle in my study. Why don't you head back to your chambers, get comfortable, and wait for me? Once I am done with my work... I will come and show you exactly what a true sovereign can do."
Lilithia's eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. She had expected him to either flush with embarrassment or eagerly pounce on her. She had not expected this level of smooth, commanding dominance from the prince Atlas had ignored for several years. A shiver of pure, unadulterated excitement ran down her spine, her favorability score visibly twitching upward on Raizael's internal screen.
"Oh? A man of focus. I like that," Lilithia laughed playfully, biting her lower lip as she stepped back, reluctantly freeing her hand from his grip. She gave him a slow, sweeping look from head to toe, her tail flicking with anticipation. "Do not keep a lady waiting too long, Raizael. I get incredibly impatient when I'm hungry."
With a tantalizing wink, she turned on her heel and glided down the corridor, her hips swaying provocatively until she disappeared around the corner.
Raizael let out a controlled breath, stabilizing his racing heart. "A high-value target indeed," he muttered, checking his system interface before finally pushing open the heavy double doors of his study.
The study was a massive archive filled with ancient leather-bound grimoires, map projections, and towering shelves of dark oak. Sitting on the center of the large mahogany desk was a neatly stacked pile of crimson-stained parchment, the official intelligence reports from Ronin.
Raizael sat down in his leather high-backed chair, the playful mood from moments ago completely vanishing, replaced by the cold, calculating mind of a survivor. He broke the wax seal of the top report and began to read.
As his eyes scanned the elegant script, his brows furrowed deeply. The reports were far worse than he had anticipated.
The first report detailed the movement of the Celestrix Holy Knights. Following the sudden, unexplained disappearance of fallen Holy Maiden Morrigan three months ago, the Holy Emperor Malakor Sol-Zenith had deployed three elite battalions to scout the borders near the Whispering Chasm. They were still searching for clues, and it was only a matter of time before their tracks led straight to the mountains of Malgora.
But it was the second report that made Raizael's eyes narrow into cold slits.
It was an internal report regarding Lilithia's half-demon children, specifically her eldest son, Balthazar, a brutal, aggressive high-demon warrior who commanded the frontline Vanguard. The report stated that Balthazar had quietly rerouted a large shipment of dark magic crystals from the lower sectors, setting up a heavily armed blockade under the pretense of "border defense."
Raizael saw right through it. It wasn't a border defense; it was a blatant trap. Balthazar, knowing Atlas was locked away in deep cultivation, was testing the waters. He wanted to lure Raizael out to the lower sectors, orchestrate a fatal "accident," and eliminate the only true royal heir to the throne so he could claim leadership of Malgora for himself.
Raizael leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the mahogany desk, a cold, dangerous smile slowly spreading across his face.
"You want to play games, Balthazar?" Raizael whispered to the empty room. "Perfect. I was just looking for a chance to test my newly acquired Divine Grace Subversion powers. Let's see how your proud demon blood handles the corrupted light of a fallen maiden."
Do check it out.)