The Vaid Empire

Vaid Empire: Conquest

Chapter 97

10th of Fixuin, 19 AVE. 

Kingdom of Lian, Praith. 

There was no end to the distant calls of strange wildlife roaming the branches under and overhead. The writings lying before Lalian went untouched, for as he sat upon the curved human cushion, his fingers rubbed lovingly over the surface of his egg. 

Upon a modest circular platform just beneath the royal stronghold, several bioluminescent bulbs had been intentionally grown nearby, for even during midday, the sunlight that poured through the countless branches seemed reluctant to reach the platform. 

He no longer concerned himself with the presence of the many guards. They stood around the round edge of the platform, arrows ready, searching for any hint of enemy danger that may threaten The Grand Imperial Architect. If they heard his soft mutterings of affection in the Lanthian tongue, so be it. His full focus was upon his shielded child, holding the egg close to his chest with a beaming smile. “Thank you, Dominax.” 

The approach of two visitors caught his attention. Peering wearily, he watched the guards part as Anthara marched onto the platform. Wearing her shawl of deep green chimira silk, having reluctantly relinquished her traditional battle loincloth in the fear that she’d be mistaken for an enemy, her hips swayed as the thin fabric brushed the green skin near the top of her thighs. She joined her mate upon the cushion, scowling with annoyance when the guards stopped her guest, a young Lanthian woman. “Move aside. She’s with me, you fools.” She regarded Lalian with a hopeful smirk, a rarity while in Praith. “I’ve found her.” 

“Truly?” Lalian studied the girl with interest as the guards parted. Decorated with a simple loincloth of woven green fabric, she bowed before him, cunning eyes matching an eager smile. Several scars lay across her overwise tantalizing body, her strong thighs and wide hips drawing his attention. A pair of pert breasts sat concealed by a thin top that wrapped around her slender chest, and as he gestured politely for her to stand, they subtly jiggled at the motion. She appeared well aware of his curiosity, clasping her hands behind her back to coyly push out her chest further. “S…she’s the one?” 

Anthara grasped his chin, forcing his head to turn away from the beautiful youth and towards her with an amused smirk. “If The God Emperor shares your interest, yes.” 

“A…apologies.” Blushing, Lalian held the egg in his lap as he summoned the girl closer. “Do you understand my words?” 

Her neat hair caressed the top of her breasts as she nodded. “Yes, my Lord. I’m fluent in the imperial tongue.” 

“Imperial…” Lalian grinned, impressed. “And your name?” 

“I am Falin, my Lord.” She granted him a smile that coaxed a twitch of his loins. 

Hardly had any of the population regarded him without utter contempt. To have a native of Praith offer courteous respect, a former mistress no less, almost made him uneasy. “Ah, well, my mate here may have told you, Falin, that we have recently been tasked with selecting the next ruler of Praith.” 

“So she did.” Her smooth voice carried a confidence beyond her years. 

“You’re a little…young to rule a city,” Lalian noted, perhaps even younger than Nafalya. 

“I’m of breeding age. Lady Anthara made the importance of that quite clear.” Falin ran a hand over her tight midriff. “Our new God Emperor shall find me very…fertile.” 

The word stirred his loins, though it was Anthara that spoke next. “I had the same concern, yet her experience is notable. Trust me, my love.” She placed her hand upon the egg. “Let her lay her deeds before The God Emperor herself. She’s young, though her skill in battle has already earned the respect of many of her elders. They’ll follow her, and more importantly, she’ll follow us. Of all the women I’ve investigated, she’s shown the highest willingness to bow to the imperial throne.” 

He tapped his chin in thought. “You’re…certain of her?” 

Anthara’s nod offered no doubt. 

“Very well.” Lalian offered the girl a joyous smile. “You will be permitted to present yourself before The God Emperor when he finds time for you. Congratulations, Falin. Should he deem you worthy, you may be Praith’s first High Lady.” 

“Thank you, my Lord.” She offered a humble bow. Dismissed, she turned to depart, swaying her hips to grant him a show. 

Anthara seized his chin once more. “You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you?” 

“N…no, my love! I…I…” 

She chuckled, patting his cheek. “Foolish little Lalian. Do you still believe you must hide from me? I wanted to fuck her as well.” Her laugh was a great relief, dissolving his worry as she released him. “I could see the desire burning in your eyes. You’re not a subtle man, my love.” She eased back to relax at his side, thighs parting. “Unfortunately, that little body is for The God Emperor only, if he accepts her.” 

Lalian felt a tingle of jealousy that melted away at the reminder of the egg in his hand. “Enjoy her, my friend,” he thought as he caressed it lovingly. 

The green shawl made way as her hand gradually crept up her own thigh, biting her lip with memories. “How lucky she’ll be to feel his…potent seed.” A finger tasted the dampness that formed between her legs at the thought with a gentle caress. She uttered a sigh of longing. 

Cheeks darkening, Lalian cleared his throat. “She’ll…she’ll have to wait until after the legion departs. His dedication to the preparations has been quite singular.” 

“He knows the danger ahead.” Anthara’s hand retreated down her thigh, leaving a slick trail as the bioluminescent light and faint sunlight danced across her green skin. She closed her legs, peering up at the city above. “Praith bleeds daily. Soon, two more cities shall be wounded, and green blood shall flow anew.” 

“We’ve done all we can to limit civilian casualties,” Lalian replied. He held the egg close, as if fearful it’d be snatched away. “The raids…the riots…we-” 

“We’ve doomed many,” she cut in. The arousal flavoring her features had been shoved aside as her guilt stabbed at her once more. “They won’t love us, nor thank us, though I may at least hope and dream that their children shall understand some day.” 

He watched as she stood, approaching two of the guards. Taking the spear of one despite his silent reluctance, she gestured for the other to join her in the platform’s center. Lalian frowned. “My love, please, simply rest.” 

“Enough rest. Pregnancy slowed me, yet no longer.” She barked commands to the guard, inciting him to spar with her. Spears met with a loud ting of chimira steel. “War prods at us with every raid. I’ll be ready to meet it.” 

Lalian glanced down at the egg, nodding. In his grasp was a joy, a burden, something to dread losing. They’d both defend it in their own way, for he returned his attention to his writing, listening to the sounds of his lover’s training. 

14th of Fixuin, 19 AVE. 

Kingdom of Lian, Praith. 

Every strike sent a metallic echo reverberating off the stone walls as the blades of Cendra and Irith met. Careful steps danced back and forth, retreating and advancing, until Cendra dared to leap. The power of her blood sent her twirling over her stepmother’s head, the dull training sword ready to tap her back and claim victory, only for her to misjudge the landing. Feet finding the smooth ground, she stumbled backwards before tumbling over. 

Irith offered her hand to the fallen princess as Cendra groaned. Helping her up, she watched her rub at another new bruise. “It might be best to stop for the day.” 

Cendra readied her blade with an annoyed scowl. “We only just started.” 

Once more dulled swords met in elaborate motions. Only the internal chamber of the incubation temple offered enough protection to forgo guards, and as the two royals dueled, Prince Cliax carefully picked up a green egg from the nearest pile. Stored in neat clusters encircling the chamber’s center, they appeared to be organized in order of age, for those closest to the center of the chamber were predicted to hatch within days. 

No doubt the population would be furious to learn their conquerors used their revered temple to find solitude, yet far greater concerns slowed both women’s movements. When Cendra’s blade granted Irith a stinging strike she should’ve easily countered, and Irith jabbed her stepdaughter when she failed to move out of the way, they both lowered their blades. 

“I’m sorry you can’t go,” Irith stated plainly. There was little use in dancing around the matter. “Your father has his reasons.” 

The words made Cendra grimace more than her bruises. “I failed him, The Empire, and my warriors at Kisrin. I suppose I deserve his mistrust.” 

Irith was pleased to see a measured response. She had grown much in their time training together. “Mistrust is hardly the word. He merely seeks to keep you safe.” The statement threatened to prod at her own misgivings. 

“Oh? He denies me a command of my own. Such is fair.” Cendra’s stern lips tightened. “Yet now I learn I cannot so much as accompany my own mate in battle. While Clin marches to glory, I remain impotently in Praith.” She raised her blade once more. “I fear he’ll never trust me again.” 

The subtle pain in Cendra’s voice was a rare admission, a hint at the agony resting behind her words. Irith wanted to embrace her. Instead, she blocked a blow from her sword. “Give him time. You know nothing is more important to your father than the safety of you and your siblings. He didn’t conquer all of humanity to protect you only to throw your lives away.” 

Cendra raised a brow after twirling away from a stab. “You defend him eagerly, yet I hear rumors you’ve been absent from his side since the meeting. The slaves say they warm his bed while you sleep alone.” 

Irith blushed. “They should know better than to spread gossip of which they know nothing about.” 

“Of course. I’ve already punished them harshly.” Cendra redirected a thrust. “Yet the matter remains.” 

“Your father is a complicated man. There is something…ruined inside him, I think.” She looked around to ensure they were alone. Cliax put down an egg and picked up a spare training sword, giving it a playful twirl. “After your mother and grandmother, he…ah, you know better than most.” 

Cendra’s body tightened, and she stepped clumsily as a strike slapped her thigh, lightly reddening the smooth skin. She grimaced. “Yet Nafalya is permitted to prance into danger. Your firstborn is a deadly one, I admit, worthy of our House. Perhaps I no longer am.” 

Irith bit her lip. She remembered Dominax’s dream, and for a moment she imagined Cendra without the throne, no longer a princess, but a simple huntress in a simple loincloth without the burden of imperial pride. She imagined Briza at her side, and the elder Cendra, women reconstructed from mere tales whispered with sorrow by her mate. It pained her to know she never would have met Dominax without their loss, yet as she imagined him with his family, happy in Nitri, she almost wished she could go back to prevent their deaths. A thrust snapped her from thoughts of longing as she winced. She knew how that dream ended. “Of course you are. Kisrin was merely a reminder of what he stands to lose.” 

“Precisely. He has seen my weakness. Nafalya has shown no such faults.” Cendra sighed. 

Irith hesitated. “In truth, he has seen much weakness in Arinax, yet he remains the heir.” She hoped Cendra wouldn’t sense the unease churning her stomach. “Whatever you believe he thinks of you, I assure you he hasn’t discarded his firstborn, as he hasn’t discarded Arinax. After all, you don’t believe your brother’s training has been overly…cruel, do you?” 

“Not at all.” Cendra shook her head without hesitation before jabbing forward. “The boy shall be a God Emperor one day. It’s only necessary that he be the strongest of us.” She swallowed. “I’d even call him lucky.” 

Irith’s brows furrowed in thought. She was almost too slow to avoid an overhead swing. “Tell me, if a choice sat before you, the throne, pain, and struggle in one hand, or a simple life of peace in the other, which would you choose?” 

“We’ve been granted a rare opportunity to stand above all others. I’d choose power, Irith.” Cendra twirled and struck. “Would you not?” 

The Concubine Empress frowned. “I’d spit upon the throne if it’d keep my family whole.” 

Cendra’s lips tightened. “One would almost call that treason.” 

“Call the truth whatever you’d like. I’ve seen the throne inflict more damage upon this House than it’s worth.” 

“Ah.” Cendra came to a stop. “We’re at an impasse, then.” 

Irith sighed as she lowered her blade, leaning on it. “Regardless, I’ll take some comfort in knowing you’ve undone a portion of that damage. Seeing you and Vixin on speaking terms has warmed my heart.” 

The princess blushed, waving aside the comment. “We’ve talked much, yes.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Your advice has been…adequate.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Thank you.” 

Irith embraced her stepdaughter, granting her a tight squeeze Cendra wasn’t accustomed to. The princess stood stiffly, then eased, and stiffened once more at the sound of the reinforced temple door squeaking open. 

Clin slowed as he saw the women, watching Cendra hurry to part from Irith. He granted The Concubine Empress a nod and polite smile. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt your sparring session.” 

The dull blades were discarded where they had been stored the past few days. “Only little Cliax here is in the mindset to fight, it seems,” Irith replied with a gesture to the young prince as his sword twirled playfully through the air. 

“Were that we could all be as valiant,” Clin said with a sad chuckle. “Unfortunately, it’s time.” 

Cendra stepped closer. Her pained eyes said what her lips would not. “When?” 

“We depart before nightfall.” Clin held her hips, feeling her narrow waist. “Both armies are ready to march, and our supplies are prepared. Fonax has his orders, and I have mine.” 

“Remain safe out there, Lord Clin.” Irith clasped her hands together. “After all you’ve done for our family, it’d pain me to see you harmed.” 

Clin summoned Cliax with a gesture. “I’ll have my Knights to protect me, as will Fonax. Kunir has reluctantly agreed to lead a group of Knights under the prince’s command, though Knight Hazia will remain at my side.” 

“And I remain here with a sheathed blade.” Cendra scowled, more pained than annoyed. 

“As do Salduin and Hesin, my love. Don’t forget the danger lurking in Praith.” Clin held her closer, granting her a kiss. 

Watching Cliax join his parents, Irith stepped back to grant the small family space, adoring the scene before her. Only the thought of the siege ahead dampened her smile, knowing how easily their peace could be torn to pieces. “Don’t let me intrude. I should tend to Enilax, in any case.” 

“No intrusion at all, yet we won’t keep you from Nafalya’s firstborn,” Clin replied. The mention of little Enilax brought a strange sorrow to his gaze, and he regarded her with a deep respect. “My lady.” 

Irith nodded pleasantly before making her way towards the entrance. She looked back a final time to spy a glance of Cendra leaning her head upon his shoulder, rare tears beginning to run down her cheeks. Whether coaxed by her disappointment, fear for her mate, or both, the sight stung as Irith departed. 

The air outside the temple was thick and wet. Midday, Praith was a swarm of marching legionaries and fluttering white cloaks. She envied them, their skintight one-suits protecting their bodies from the humidity as perspiration trickled down her skin. 

Enilax would be across the city, near the far edge of Praith where many of the slaves were housed. Every building protected near the throne was too valuable for mere slaves, housing nobles and commanders. The slaves simply had to walk each day. 

Dominax had permitted her to keep their illegitimate grandson in her room at night occasionally, yet she had kept to her word to never allow him to distract from Atrix or the rest of House Vaid. 

The thought of her mate soured her thoughts. The man she loved regarded their first mutual grandchild as little more than an afterthought, a burden, something to be sent away. She had stood by as countless of his children were spread throughout The Empire, of course, any of which she’d have gladly loved as her own, yet Enilax was Nafalya’s. She couldn’t let a piece of their daughter go so easily. 

A group of guards awaited her command nearby. They rushed to surround her, following as she began to stroll slowly. The crowded streets parted at the sight of The Concubine Empress, yet she ignored their bows. “Dominax, where are you?” 

Perhaps he had never gone. Perhaps he had always been what he was now. Perhaps she had been blind. A knot tightened in her stomach as she shook her head. “No.” 

It was a falsehood to claim she had been oblivious to his harsh ways. She had been at his side for decades, his constant companion, supporting every cruel act. She knew him better than anyone. She knew the rot at his core and wept with the knowledge of its source. However broken he may be, she would not rescind her love. 

An ideal sat in her head now. She saw him without a crown, the hunter he had been, the hunter that had died that day in Nitri. Perhaps he could’ve been a good man. 

Was he not? Did she not fight at his side to remake the world into a peaceful utopia? Did he not seek to prevent tragedy? She remembered King Siril The Second’s severed head in Dominax’s grasp as they stood before the gates of Visti. A violent, horrifying act, yet hadn’t it put an end to the millennium of bloody wars between independent kingdoms inflicted upon the people of the north? Her people? 

Perhaps Arinax’s training was the same. Perhaps every harsh lesson prevented a future tragedy and agony the boy would’ve endured. 

She scowled. 

They passed a group of slaves that was pushed far away from The Concubine Empress and her guards, ensuring they were no threat. Heads hanging low, the rebellion beaten out of them, they shuffled along in silence. 

Once more she thought of Nitri. Once more she thought of Dominax resting in a simple hut, Briza at his side, the throne unmade. She had stood among the ruins herself, witnessing Briza’s grave. Yes, she knew how that dream ended. 

Another, then. She imagined Arinax and Zela running about a modest village of their own. She imagined Nafalya nursing Atrix and Enilax inside their family hut. Cendra stood beside a fire, roasting her latest kill, while Vixin tended to the wounds of their neighbors. No throne coaxed the ambitions of another Xenia. No daughter sought glory for her House, only to be shattered when it was denied. No scars or bruises painted a son’s body but those he earned himself, learning to tend to his family. Perhaps such a dream didn’t have to end with tragedy. 

“You’re being naive,” Irith thought to herself as a legionary shoved aside a Lanthian woman with hatred upon her sneering lips. “You risk their deaths. Without the throne, they stand against the world alone.” 

She came to a stop beside the railing of the walkway. The guards spread out defensively as she peered over the edge. Looking down at the nauseating fall below, she felt trapped. 

Never would she have witnessed such sights if not for the man she loved, standing in a land that was utterly alien to her. They had built an empire together. They had conquered the oldest human kingdoms together, uniting all of humanity. They had made their permanent mark upon the world, upon history, and upon the future itself. Above all, they had forged a family together, a House she’d never dream to live without. “Thank you, my love,” she thought, only to remember Arinax’s bruises. “Yet damn you for making me doubt.” 

With an agonized scowl, feeling uneasy, she continued on towards the outskirts of Praith. She merely hoped the sight of Enilax would ease her misgiving, yet knew the child would only spark them anew. 

20th of Fixuin, 19 AVE. 

Kingdom of Lian, Praith. 

There was no going back now. As Yisi screamed, her cheeks flush with the ecstasy torturing her loins, she felt Vixin squeeze her hand in support. With a final push, a final eruption of pleasure, she heard the newborn’s cries as it slid from her loins, her body seizing in an orgasm that held her painfully. 

Vixin gasped as emotion rushed through her. Having released Yisi’s grip to catch the child, she felt a dampness gathering in her eyes, watching the baby girl cry out. “She’s beautiful…” It was a simple thing to sense her father’s paternity of the girl, yet Yisi’s blood ran through her veins just as strongly. Vixin held her with an adoring gaze, a tiny piece of the woman she loved in her gentle grasp. 

Dominax stepped forth from the royal onlookers. Having permitted Yisi to give birth on his bed, only the members of House Vaid had been permitted to watch, standing at the foot of the bed. The royal chambers glowed with candlelight as he reached down to claim the girl. 

Vixin kissed Yisi’s thigh. She touched her own flat belly with a memory of the pleasure her bondmate now simmered in, for mere days ago, she had given Kunir a healthy and powerful son. Even now she still felt tiny flickers in her loins, echoes of pleasure that occasionally reminded her of the boy, now in the care of slaves. He’d be sent away soon, of course, as would all children conceived on the night of the Knight’s vows, and though Kunir could never be permitted to see the son she gave him, Vixin merely hoped her bastard brother would return from Hainath alive. 

The God Emperor’s silver eyes glowed as they assessed the newborn. A satisfied smile crept across his features, for the girl in his grasp was as powerful as he had hoped. “Witness the future of our House, and the foundation of a bloodline that shall forever encircle our dynasty.” He presented her to the royals. 

“Congratulations,” Irith offered in a soft voice, unable to meet her mate’s victorious gaze. 

As Nafalya assessed the newborn, cradling her own pregnancy, Vixin tended to her bondmate. She leaned to whisper into her ear. “You survived, Yisi, as I promised you would. Merely rest, for all is well.” 

Rest was the furthest thing from Yisi’s mind. As she watched their father hold the child he had put inside of her, the weight of their deed crashed down upon her slender shoulders. “He’ll never let her go now.” 

The words were hardly a whisper, as quiet as a soft breath, yet Vixin heard the doom in her tone. An anchor had been locked around her lover, forever trapping her. 

12th of Silla, 19 AVE. 

Kingdom of Lian, Near Tempian. 

Salik watched as a thick river of white cloaks marched endlessly below his branch. High above, he lurked unseen like a silent ghost over doomed men. 

Mere miles from Tempian, he eyed wounded legionaries scattered throughout the otherwise determined legion. It had been a slow, grueling march, slowed considerably by every trap he and his agents prepared long before they arrived. Leading ferocious beasts into their path, concealing wooden spikes inside shallow streams, there was much to do during the day, yet more at night. They stole and sabotaged supplies, leaving many poisoned, and others as corpses. The jungle provided no end of misfortune. 

No matter how many days they delayed the march, nor the distrust and paranoia they sowed among the humans, the legion was an inevitable storm blowing towards Tempian, unstoppable. 

Yet, as Salik’s red eyes flicked to witness a spear hurled from the air, the value of his work was proven. A horrid horn blew as spears rained, tearing into human flesh as Lanthians descended in a vengeful swarm. 

A cacophony of screams and battle cries tore through the trees as the battle began. Human arrows ripped through the air to meet Lanthian flesh. Red blood mixed with green. 

Weakened, taken off guard, the legion began to splinter as humans sought to protect themselves from above, shields raised high. Chaos tore through their ranks, swords slashing at fallen foes, commanders shouting. Balls of fire hurled into the air from the front, and Salik basked in silent awe at the blazing flames painting the canopied sky in arcs of orange. The offspring of his enemy fought well. His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade with a thought of The God Emperor. 

He watched far ahead as the leader of the legion, a Lord Clin, he had learned, fought to rally his warriors. Shouted words summoned the courage of his demoralized army. 

Peering over at the other agents of Shai littered about the branches, he granted a nod. Bows in hand, they began to fire down into the humans, rewarded with flashes of red. 

Salik savored the chaos. Every death weakened The God Emperor. Every fallen human brought his blade closer to his enemy’s throat. Every spray of red was a victory that would one day earn him the name of his mother. 

“I shall know who you were,” he whispered, hardly more than a breath inside his helmet. 

Without warning, a screech came from behind. Whirling, he brought his blade to bare in time to watch a Lanthian rip the Dril at his side from the branch, sending him toppling to the bone-shattering ground below. 

Another glided towards them, a spear hurling into the Tazik agent of their group. Moving quickly, Salik rushed along the branch in time to slash his sword, cutting her entrails from her green body. Agent arrows flicked as the rest sought to bring down another foe. 

“Fools,” Salik whispered, hands moving in the signal for retreat as Lanthians swarmed their position. They fought for the same cause, yet green eyes saw only strange outsiders dressed in black. 

As they hurried to depart their branches for safety, Salik watched the battle rage below. Neat human lines were useless against an enemy from the sky, shattering, yet the Lanthians hardly fared better. The beauty of the winged warriors was brought down and cut to pieces one by one by arrows and fire. 

Reaching the trunk of the tree to begin the long climb down, he heard commands of retreat shouted in the human tongue. He closed his red eyes with a deep relief for a single moment, determination remaining in his gaze when they opened. 

“Your mistake is redeemed, mother, if only a little.” 

14th of Silla, 19 AVE. 

Kingdom of Lian, Praith. 

The hard wood of the message cylinder was a sharp contrast to the soft flesh in his grasp. In one hand, Dominax held Clin’s latest reports. In the other, he held the rump of a slave. 

Lying upon the sheets of his bed, as bare as his lovers, he felt their bodies nestled against his. Four beauties, their hands sought to please, yet they couldn’t distract from Irith’s absence. He felt delicate fingers gliding up and down the towering shaft of his firm manhood. He sensed his children beginning to grow in their bellies, the consequences of previous nights. He granted the closest a spank, though even the subtle jiggle of her rump wasn’t enough. “Irith.” 

The fact that she slept across the hall should have been the least of his concerns. Discarding the message upon a bedside table, Dominax remembered the faint echoes of pain that had struck him with each death of a Knight near Tempian, hundreds of miles away, yet stinging all the same. They had surrounded him for years, living inside the halls of The Grand Pyramid as they trained for The Privictis Order. Their souls had been a familiar presence, his bastard children and when they were torn from their mortal forms, he had touched his chest in discomfort. 

Their defeat wasn’t the end, of course. The message made Clin’s intentions clear. Having regrouped after the ambush, his blond advisor wrote with assurances that they prepared to march against Tempian once more. 

Savoring the subtly pregnant flesh in his grasp, Dominax was pleased that Clin had survived, yet the news did little to banish his thoughts for long. “Irith.” 

With a groan, he sat up and dismissed the slaves with a pointed finger. “Get out.” They looked at their master with confusion, yet even the most daring of the four women wasn’t foolish enough to question The God Emperor. As they stood from the bed, moving sensually, Dominax missed their warmth with a scowl. He regarded the nearest of them before she could reach the door. “Summon the girl. Bring this Falin to me.” 

She bowed dutifully before departing. As he waited for the exotic girl he hoped would provide a sufficient distraction, he peered up at the ceiling. Almost the entirety of the room had been rebuilt with fresh wood, a fate he suspected must befall all of Praith in time, for the crude construction of the city was but a symptom of the Lanthian’s communal nature. Far too many citizens had far too many needs. How could anything of worth be built? 

He could sense her, his love, in the room across the hallway. He could sense the twins slumbering at her side. He scowled. Only the blades of his legion permitted them to sleep well. Should he perish tonight, their safety could unravel without his powerful hand. She knew this well, yet still Irith sought to duel with him over Arinax. 

The boy had to live. They both needed him to live. When Dominax fell, who but the next God Emperor stood to protect all they had built? Who but Arinax could protect their family? He must be broken and remade to survive. 

He sensed the approaching female long before a knock tapped upon the door. His command permitted the guards in the hall to let her in, and he watched the Lanthian girl enter with a seductive sway of her hips. Cunning eyes regarded him after a low bow, an eager grin playing across her pretty lips as he made no move to conceal himself. “It is an honor to stand in your presence, holy conqueror.” 

“Holy. So it is.” Dominax stroked his neat silver beard with doubt, gesturing her forth. “My advisors speak highly of you, little Falin.” 

She offered a coy blush as her wings fluttered. “Only because it’s deserved. You’ll find no better servant to enact your desires for this city in all of Praith, holy conqueror.” 

There it was again. “Do you hold no faith of your own? The false goddess of the Lanthians would surely disapprove of the title you so willingly lay at my feet.” 

The candlelight traced the tantalizing curves of her young body, yet there was no innocence to her hungry gaze. “The goddess of my people has failed me. Perhaps believing in your divinity shall serve me better.” 

Raw ambition blazed inside the young woman as her green loincloth brushed her thick thighs, taking a cautious step closer. He studied her, ensuring her eager aims didn’t seek his death before permitting another step. Sitting against the headboard, he felt his manhood hardening once more at the sight of her. “Many would call that heresy.” 

“Many are fools.” She awaited his command. When he beckoned her closer, she mounted the bed with swift and elegant movements, kneeling upon soft sheets. “Tales of outsiders in the far north are hard to come by, even in Praith, yet I hoard them all the same. I know you, king killer. I know what you seek. Enemies fall to dust at your fingertips, and in their place rises those who are willing to serve. Tonight, I’ll show you who deserves to rule this city.” 

An amused grin crept across his features. Had he been in her place, he’d do much the same. “You’re a bold one, little Falin, yet words will not earn a throne.” 

Undeterred, she ran a hand over her flat midriff, thighs parted as she remained on her knees. “Oh, I agree, holy conqueror. I know the price, and so does my womb.” Her hand continued downward, a finger teasing the top of her loincloth. “I had hoped to present myself in worthy gold instead of these meager clothes, yet you’ll find the body beneath to be quite fertile all the same.” 

His manhood stood ready. Reaching forth, he brushed aside the loincloth, seeking the wet offering she presented. Thick thighs quivered at his touch as a hand glided across soft green skin, finding the dampness between her legs. “I’ve been told you’re a fierce warrior. One would think you’d have earned such gold by now.” 

“Your men confiscated my armor and spear.” Her expression showed no bitterness, lips parting in a soft gasp as he explored her. 

“They could be restored to a worthy being that earns her place.” A finger tested her, finding her body as eager as her grin. 

“Permit me and I shall.” She reached up to her top, unwrapping it from her chest until it fell loosely away. Pert breasts surrendered to his touch when a hand reached the delicate mounds on display. 

“Come.” He guided her closer into his bare lap. Pulling the loincloth from her wide hips, he allowed her green body to settle into his control, Lanthian loins rubbing against his manhood. “You won’t leave this bed without my child in your belly, throne or not.” 

Once more she blushed coyly. “By the time you unleash your seed deep inside me, I think you’ll deem me worthy, holy conqueror. After all, I’m eager to claim what’s mine.” 

Cock brushing her labia, he groaned in satisfaction as he sank into her tight, sensual, fertile body. Bliss squeezed his shaft inch by inch as she gasped at his size, slowing her descent into his lap. Silver eyes offered a challenge. Green eyes obeyed. She muttered a soft cry as she continued to accept him deeper and deeper, stopping only when his tip pressed against her limit. With a tremble of her thighs, she offered only a hungry grin. 

“Master…” 

His cock twitched inside her twat at the sight of green wings spreading from her back. They fluttered as he held her wide hips tightly, the tip of his manhood pressing hard into what he sought to claim. “Good, little Falin.” 

She met his smirk with one of her own, beginning to rock her hips when her body had adjusted to his size. The thick manhood buried inside her cunny stretched her tightness, larger than any slave she had enjoyed. A pained gasp did little to dampen the eagerness in her expression, green eyes begging for his seed. 

Powerful hands caressed powerful thighs as he savored her body. His hips moved to match her gentle rhythm, feeling her clenching around his length as if seeking to milk him. “Tell me…ahh…of the warrior in my lap.” 

She licked her finger, wetting it before teasing a firm nipple. Flickering candlelight danced in the saliva rubbing against her green bud, her breasts young and ripe to nurture the child he’d grant her. “I trained…ahh…with the finest warriors in Praith. I hunted and slew…ahh…a great Rarlian beast with my own hand. I cut down…ahh…ten Lish raiders when the city of Athian…ahh…called for our aid!” 

He traced a scar upon her side, echoes of past battles. Her short life had seen much bloodshed, yet as he caressed the curves of her young, healthy body, he knew he’d breed her with a child that would know peace and order. 

A finger traced the line where two shades of green skin met down the center of an exotic body. The God Emperor’s cock twitched, thinking of the egg that would soon grow in her strange and alluring womb. 

Her wings flicked, sending a gentle gust of wind that spoke of her pleasure. The air threatened the candles, making them flicker wildly before burning anew. Humidity clung to her form, dribbling down her smooth green skin, riding the subtle ridges of her toned abdomen, her trained muscles only just visible. Her supple body rocked as she massaged his cock deep inside her loins, a sensual arousal flavoring her moans. 

The girl’s ambition was a feast to his senses as he felt her eagerness. “You crave…ahh…power. You crave…ahh…a throne.” 

“Yes…” There was no need to deny her motivations. The truth of her was bare before his strange eyes. “I crave your…ahh…seed. I crave…ahh… to carry your offspring in my womb as I…ahh…hold Praith in my grasp! Let all know the name of Falin. Let them bow before your loyal servant!” 

“Loyalty, little Falin?” He squeezed her thigh, feeling the female flesh in his lap, ready to drain his potent sperm into the tightness caressing his cock. “A woman that trades a goddess…ahh…for a god so quickly has little room to speak of loyalty.” 

Green met silver, prey facing her predator’s challenge. She moaned, rocking her hips. “The goddess…ahh…offers little. The holy conqueror offers much. My hand shall wield a spear in your name…ahh…for it earns me my throne. My lips shall speak your commands and laws, for the stability…ahh…of your empire secures my own power. My body shall accept your…ahh…seed, for birthing your superior offspring seals my place.” She kissed his neck, sensual lips offering a grin. “Power for absolute obedience. A fair…ahh…trade, no?” 

His chuckle rumbled through the room. The absolute truth was all he’d accept, and all she offered. Gripping her pretty chin, he pulled her young body closer, tasting his prey. “A fair trade,” his devious whisper oozed into her ear. 

Eager to seal their bargain, he forced her to roll onto her back. Seizing command, pinning her to the bed, he rocked his hips forcefully. She cried out at the sudden intensity, a high-pitched noise of zeal, begging for more. 

“Ohh…holy conqueror…breed me! I want to serve! I want to rule!” 

Every utterance of her ambition fed his lust. The instinct to impregnate her eager body boiled in his loins. He’d make her a mother, ambition driving her to carry his child to the heights she craved. “Good…Falin. Show me.” 

Wings splayed out beneath her, she wrapped her strong legs around his waist. Soft gasps of bliss tumbled from parted lips as quivering arms held her breeder close. “Grant me your seed…my master…” 

Her squeezing legs aided his thrusts, matching his swift rhythm by pulling his hips against her with every wet movement. His cock plunged deeper than she could endure, eyes fluttering as he nibbled at her delicate neck. 

Every instinct demanded to plant his seed inside the willing girl beneath him. Every thrust made his cock throb. His thick shaft glided deep, urged by her whimpering moans for more. 

“Impregnate me…holy conqueror…my master…” she begged. “I shall give you a strong child…ahh…worthy of your blood…” 

Dominax remembered the moment he had filled Anthara. Now, another exotic beauty would fall pregnant with his child. Fingers ran through her green hair before seizing the long strands in a harsh grip, forcing her mouth to his. He tasted the future mother of his hybrid bastard, her squeezing thighs pleading to conceive. “You shall bow…ahh…to The Empire.” 

“My womb…ahh…shall bow to your cock!” 

The bed creaked with every hard thrust. “You shall forge Praith anew…ahh…under my guidance.” 

“Ahh…my womb shall forge your healthy offspring!” 

A strong hand reached back to grab a strong thigh. The feminine shape beckoned his seed. “You shall rule this city beneath my throne.” 

“Your child shall rule this city…ahh…after me!” 

His lips brushed her ear. “Beg, little Falin.” 

“Please…my master…get…me…pregnant…” 

Thick thighs held him tightly, trembling as his hips pushed forward. Cock buried deep inside the fertile girl, sperm gushed forth to claim his right to her womb. 

A high-pitched cry echoed loudly as she found her finish. The God Emperor’s warmth claimed her tightness, pouring heavily inside her young body as her wings and limbs seized. Her body craved everything he saw fit to fill her with, holding him close as sperm met an eager womb. 

Loins locked together, a human cock breeding a Lanthian vagina, the future of Praith was sealed. 

Cock pulsating as his orgasm gradually eased, Dominax savored the sensation of her body beneath him. He could sense her fertility, almost able to smell her ready womb. As his seed oozed from her exotic loins, he closed his eyes to enjoy a brief moment of euphoric peace. 

When his pleasure faded, however, a single thought remained to him, scowling anew. 

“Irith.”

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