Chapter 110
Corbenic. Recently a topic of gossip due to a mysterious skin disease outbreak, it was land secretly owned by the Schroder family through multiple layers of disguise.
“If the furnace there goes out, the Schroder family’s supply of magical stones will be finished.”
“Ugh…”
“There are no more wizards left.”
Before wizards die, they leave behind their power like a residue.
This sometimes becomes magical stones, but most often returns to nature. Yet Alokes, through extensive research, discovered a way to forcibly extract this residue to create magical stones.
It would have been better if he’d been satisfied with his first creation.
But the Schroder family’s greed knew no bounds, and under continuous pressure, the wizards in the Empire were wiped out one by one.
Who knew this better than Silvea?
But her calculating mind gave way to frustration and she gritted her teeth.
“But then what about Tristan! My son! Are you saying we should just leave his brain dead like this? Alokes, can’t you fix him?”
“If I mess with him and he dies, wouldn’t that be a loss to the family? And sure, I could capture Eugenie Norton and force her, but then… she might die instantly.”
Judging by Silvea’s expression, it was obvious she didn’t care and wanted her caught immediately. But Alokes gently fanned her weakness.
“That might be good news for ‘Empress Howard,’ but what about ‘Schroder’?”
“…”
“Answer me, Silvea.”
At that provocation, the Empress’s gaze shifted.
As a mother, Tristan was her angel. As Empress, yes.
But before anything else, she was Schroder.
“…Very well, Alokes.”
“Hmm.”
“Keep a close watch until that woman’s magic grows enough. But!”
Silvea’s tone was sharp and unforgiving.
“When she’s served her purpose, tear her limbs apart and throw her into the ‘furnace.’ When that time comes, don’t waste thoughts—just obey my orders!”
“…Of course.”
Alokes shrugged, as if to say, ‘Well, obviously.’ If the contract breaks, his immortality will shatter.
Silvea, fed up with this senile old man, waved her hand as if to tell him to get lost.
‘My husband is already twisting my insides out of frustration.’
Even though their only heir was unconscious, he just muttered, “He’ll get better eventually…” and spent his time drinking! The child who’s supposed to succeed him!
No matter how much of a drunkard he is, this was beyond reason.
“…Could it be…”
Silvea squinted anxiously, muttering to herself.
Could that hateful husband be up to some strange trickery?
* * *
After Silvea rudely sent him away, Alokes returned to his own quarters.
He retreated to the secret chambers of the Schroder estate whenever the family wasn’t pestering him. Normally, he’d have flopped onto the long velvet couch and fallen asleep.
But instead, Alokes sighed dryly, thinking of a woman with amber eyes.
“Ah…”
The flower she bloomed was like honey extracted from acacia blossoms—sweet and enticing.
Her memories, which entered him through that taste, were also sweet.
Though indifferent to everything and trying to make her words seem venomous, inside she was soft and tender.
Unconsciously, he wet his lower lip with the tip of his tongue.
Just like that worthless Tristan, when he swept up his trouser leg, the flesh trapped beneath writhed as if awakened by friction.
“Ugh.”
Even in his youth, he had no interest in mating. But thinking of her, he couldn’t stop the hand that swept up his trouser leg.
The woman who had jabbed his shoulder with a bullet imbued with divine power, eyes flashing.
Eugenie Norton, who climbed onto him, moving provocatively and threatening…
“Ha, hmm.”
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he grabbed the swelling flesh threatening to burst the button of his pants and pulled it out. The white, firm pillar pulsed with a vibrating heartbeat. Sticky fluids gathered at the grooved tip.
“Haa, Eugenie Norton.”
Recalling her movements, he roughly pumped his shaft up and down.
The pain in his shoulder had already vanished, replaced by a rapture that filled his blood vessels like fireworks bursting.
“Ugh, ah, haa.”
He especially loved the moments when her body collided with his.
The instant she jabbed pain into his shoulder came as pure ecstasy.
And he felt the same desire well up in his lower abdomen—to jab her with the same sharp stimulus.
It was like the fierce heat of the ‘furnace’ that had burned countless wizards.
Discussion
1 Commentmilano0
though i suspect he may die as he has killed WAY to many people