While the muffled moans of the nuns still trembled faintly through the thick stone walls of the manor, the Countess and Tanya quietly stepped out, their footsteps almost swallowed by the heavy velvet of the corridor.

The candles along the hall flickered—tall, thin tongues of light that cast restless shadows over the carved saints and silent portraits. The air smelled faintly of incense, sweat, and the lingering sweetness of sin.

Tanya walked a few steps behind the Countess, clutching a folded letter in her hands. Her expression was tight, torn between duty and defiance. The echo of the Duchess's command still lingered in her mind—"Come to me. And. Do. not. tell. him."

Sabrina's voice had been calm when she'd said it, but there was weight behind it—a command layered with authority, pride, and fear. Tanya, a mere maid in name but more a soldier in loyalty, had hesitated. But not long.

She couldn't defy Aiden, not truly. Even when he wasn't in the room, his influence moved through her veins like a second pulse. Still, she had obeyed just enough—leaving behind a letter on the desk, her handwriting trembling slightly as she penned the words:

"My lord, the Duchess calls. I go only to observe. Forgive me if I err."

It wasn't much of a confession, but it was enough to ease the guilt in her chest. She slipped the letter under the edge of his map before she followed the Countess out.

Their destination: the Leonidus Palace—the residence of Viscount Augustus Leonidus and, for now, the temporary court of Duchess Sabrina herself.

The journey through the city was cloaked in morning fog, the streets hushed but watchful. Markets had not yet opened, and the few guards they passed bowed low to the Countess, pretending not to see Tanya's unease. By the time they reached the tall gates of the palace, the sun had begun to pierce the haze, setting the gilded towers aglow.

Inside, the halls smelled of perfume and rosewood. The marble floors gleamed, and every step echoed faintly under the vaulted ceilings. Tanya's heart raced faster with each echo—what would the Duchess want with them both?

At last, they were led by a silent steward into a drawing room draped in crimson silk and heavy gold embroidery. There, waiting like two thrones of judgment, sat Duchess Sabrina and Viscountess Catherine.

Sabrina's red hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, the sunlight behind her forming a fiery halo that did little to soften her sharp, commanding beauty. Catherine, in contrast, was serene—blue eyes calm but calculating, her poise a mask perfected by generations of noble expectation. Together, they looked like twin pillars of empire—fire and ice, passion and restraint.

The Countess and Tanya both bowed deeply, the air thick with formal courtesy and veiled tension.

"Rise," Sabrina said, her voice carrying both silk and steel.

They obeyed. The Countess tried to steady her breathing, Tanya keeping her gaze lowered.

Sabrina's crimson eyes drifted to the stack of papers the Countess carried in her gloved hands. "Those," she said. "I want to see them."

The Countess hesitated for a heartbeat, then stepped forward and placed the documents on the low glass table before them. The rustle of parchment sounded almost indecently loud in the quiet room.

Sabrina began to flip through them. Page after page, her expression darkened—not in fury, but in fascination.

"So… this is what he's doing," she murmured. "Guild permits. Trade charters. Declarations of resource rights…" Her eyes flicked up, sharp as drawn steel. "He's ...building something."

Catherine leaned forward slightly, her fingers steepled. "Not something small," she added. "This… this is a foundation. He's making his own network. A hidden economy—outside the empire's control."

The Countess said nothing. Tanya's hands trembled faintly.

At last, it was Illyana—the elf disguised as a human—who broke the silence.

She had seen the holes of aiden's plan. It was ambitious yes, even praise worthy. But, but empires, guild, kingdoms weren't built on simple plans and ambitions. As hasa she knew, one needed 10 times more resources, man power, wealth than one thought. And this.

Looking at both of them. She saw opportunity, while Tanya and the countess saw trouble.

She had been sitting quietly in the corner, her features softened by illusion magic, her long ears hidden, but her presence still carried that otherworldly calm.

"You're both right, My lady Sabrina, my lady Catherine." Illyana said, her voice like silk drawn over glass. "But there's more."

Both noblewomen turned toward her.

Illyana stood, the light catching the faint glimmer of her silver-green eyes. "He's not just building wealth or influence. He's weaving routes. Invisible threads connecting each resource, each ally. He's turning the empire and its powers into a circuit."

Sabrina frowned. "A circuit? Explain."

Illyana's fingers traced idle patterns in the air, leaving behind faint trails of shimmering energy. "Mana flows where intent directs it. Through contracts, emotions, and even… desire." Her gaze darkened slightly. "Aiden is binding people to him—nobles, warriors, even priests—through connection.

Through temptation, affection, and loyalty. Each person he touches becomes part of his network. Their power feeds his."

Catherine's composure faltered for the first time. "You mean…"

"Yes," Illyana said softly. "He's building something that connects it all."

Silence settled like frost.

Sabrina looked down at the papers again, her thumb brushing against the ink-stamped signatures. Aiden's name appeared again and again—like a hidden signature of fate beneath every deal, every seal, every promise.

Her mind flashed with memory: his eyes gleaming gold in the candlelight, the feel of his breath against her skin, the dangerous certainty with which he had said her name.

He was doing it again—pulling threads. And she, for all her power, had already been caught in one.

Catherine spoke first, her voice low but steady. "Then what does he intend to do with this network?"

Illyana hesitated. "I don't think even he fully knows yet. But when he learns… the balance of this world will shift. The church, the crown, even the gods they worship—none will escape the consequences...that is what I see in his eyes...."

The Countess and Tanya exchanged uneasy glances. Sabrina leaned back slowly, eyes narrowing with thought.

"So," she said after a long silence, "he plays a dangerous game—and he plays it well."

Catherine's lips curved faintly. "You almost sound proud."

"Perhaps I am," Sabrina murmured. Then, after a pause, she added, "Or perhaps I'm afraid."

The air grew heavy again, the room steeped in the tension of unspoken realization.

At last, Sabrina rose, her red gown whispering like a living flame. "Keep this quiet. For now. Whatever Aiden is building, it should not leak out among the great houses…" She looked toward the distant stained glass window, where light poured through the image of a saint holding a sword. "If he wants to grow than the nobels, than the church, than the guild's ...haa...he will learn soon enough....oh the consequences..."

Tanya bowed low, her heart pounding. The Countess followed suit.

Illyana said nothing, her eyes distant, as though watching threads that no one else could see. She had knew, these two were also within Aiden's grasp, knowing they would be eager to help the man.

Why not? As their stench, ohhh the stench coming from both Noblewoman were reeking of Aiden. So much more than the maid Tanya, so much more than the green haired countess.

Elf's always had good nose, and hers, hers was on top of it all.

And as they left the room, the sound of church bells echoed faintly in the distance—a hollow, trembling sound that carried the weight of something vast stirring beneath the surface of the empire.

A plan moving.

A destiny shifting.

And at its center—a man whose shadow was already larger than the crown itself.

Morning crept near when they collapsed—tangled on the bed, nuns limp and sated, embers consumed.

[Ember: 100%]

Amber curled against Aiden, whispering: "They're 'yours' now... the Church...the church will fall under your hands... 'we'll' make it so...." He smiled under the veil.

"Good girls. Rest. More corruption tomorrow." The door stayed shut. But outside, whispers stirred—the leonidus realm was changing, the web tightening one moan at a time.

Aiden let them sleep. The day before, it was Arina and Amber, and now, Amber and these two cute nuns. And he was sure the number would soon multiply.

The virgins of the faithful will be his. All that pent-up lust, he will consume it all. As Aiden felt it, having virgins gave him a bit of a boost. How he ripped their pussies with blood. His body absorbed the blood like a thirsty motherfucker.

[Lilith says she wants more virgin essence. She tells you to work harder.]

"....Fuck you! Shut the fuck up. You want an orgy, want me to hunt demons, and now you want virgins. One at a fucking time, bitch," he scolded.

[Lilith scoffs at you. She says why the host doesn't fear her even though she has given the host the utmost miserable pain.]

"Hahahahaha...." Aiden laughed for a bit.

".....Me...trying to tame me? Oh....that was funny as hell," he voiced as he saw Tanya and the countess coming.

"...Hmmm."

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