Chapter 117: Like a Dove in Love!
The moment Mithras entered her line of sight, Elektra's world emptied, her eyes and focus instantly stolen by the transcendent prince peering into her eyes.
But when Mithras leaned in, his disarming smile edging close to Elektra's lips, she held her breath, her cheeks flushing hard as she tried to look the other way. Mithras didn't allow it, his eyes chasing Elektra wherever she went, and keeping her spellbound.
Nearby, Celestia blanked out. Never in her life had she seen her aunty look starstruck before a man...much less a youth of her generation!
Mithras ignored the Jade-Faced Princess, captivated by his queen.
"Hello, swan of my life. Told you we'd meet again soon. And here we are, devouring one another in broad daylight.
See? Your hubby is a man of his words. A rare quality nowadays. Lucky you..." Mithras started, raising Elektra's right hand, and lowering her sleeve. Dark mist coiled like raving snakes, pouring out of lunar markings that covered Elektra's forearm.
A parting gift from Sucuria!
"Heal," Mithras ordered, and to the audience's shock, Elektra's arm...healed instantly.
No need to mention the rest. Even Elektra couldn't believe it. This was no doubt the most advanced curse that she'd faced in her life. But with one word, Mithras cured it?
Faced with such transcendent power, what purpose did healing mantras, druids, surgeons and the like serve? Mithras' voice alone could bankrupt the medical industry, putting dark ideas in the minds of the aristocratic thugs!
Mithras ignored them, raising Elektra's hand to his cheek while pulling her by the waist.
"I missed you."
"Liar. It's only been a couple days. Days you spent surrounded by more beauties than the Holy Emperor in his 10,000 years of reign. But you want to make me think I was on your mind? Like hell I believe you.
Did I mention I'm a career-driven woman with one of the nastiest schedules of the Purple Dawn? Losing brain cells for playboys is not a part of my agenda." Aware that Mithras' tongue was a sweet but lethal poison, Elektra stayed on her guard, not buying poor Mithras' words.
"Now Phoenixia, you're breaking my heart. So what you're saying is that the minutes, hours and days you spent away from me didn't make you full of yearning for the time we spent together?
There's no little demoness in your head egging you on day in, day out, begging you...to find Mithras and kiss him all over?
I don't buy that." With his hands on his queen's waist, Mithras whispered, his voice and eyes keeping all 300% of Elektra's attention...and leaving Mithras' reflection in the queen's eyes for the rest.
Elektra's heart pounded like crazy, the angel on her right shoulder and the demoness on the left both swooning and cheering nonstop.
'Ah...what a sinister youth. Mithras, the Lord is cruel...and blessed...but oh so cruel to have put your kind of devil in my way.
A 100 years of prim and proper...only to lose my head for a boy young enough to be my descendant. Talk about a failure...'
Inhibition went down, and prompted by an uncontrollable impulse, Elektra rose to her toes, kissing Mithras' lips in a tender and passionate smooch!
"Oh hell no!"
"Hell no..."
"Hell...heeell noo!" Akamana in the shadows, Vel'Asha nearby, or Celestia on the sidelines, all three reeled in a mix of shock and rage, plus a serving of jealousy for some! And a side dish of grief for others!
"Now that's more like it. Playing hard to get is no doubt a noblewoman's privilege. But too much and the man gets bored and moves on.
So how about we stop this little game of hide and seek for a day...and you just drop in my arms like a dove in love? Just one day. You can play hard to get tomorrow...I promise I will humor you." Mithras whispered in a honeyed tone.
Elektra didn't answer, but her face shone like melting iron, and she leaned into Mithras, embracing his chest and offer in silence.
If you don't talk and pretend to be innocent...maybe there won't be that much gossip? A girl can hope for sure!
Ah...fuck it! You only live once!
Mithras got the hint, sweeping Elektra off her feet and carrying her to complete the inauguration of his new mansion in a day...and night...and morning...of nonstop romp!
[Ding! Ding! Ding!]
[Jealousy front and back! Jealousy left and right! Sour and bitter, vinegar all over!]
[Jealousy overload detected! Instant promotion...applied!]
[The host ranks up to Netori Apprentice!]
[The Lord is proud! All hail the Host!]
A series of system prompts resounded in our favorite Aphrodisiac's mind. But as it is often the case in times like these, Mithras ignored it, devoted to the hussle of a greedy man-whore.
---
Meanwhile, the Great Blood Metropolis entered a frenzy, the Princeps, Elders, and consul of various bloodlines all aligning behind the new kings!
Except for Hakim, the new generation of Kings had assembled, awakened by the elders, and facing one another with calm yet sanguine looks.
One man alone didn't fall for the trap of egos, sweeping the audience with eyes that mixed wisdom with overpowering authority:
Marcus di Nerva, heir of Trajan, had entered the scene!
"Not only did our Crown Prince abuse the Decimation Skill, but he also stole the First Generation's legacies.
The majesty of Trajan, the speed of Hadrian, the might of Gurdenhozer, the resilience of Arminius, and the predatory instincts of Shapur—all robbed, heightened and perfected by his absurd bloodline.
He is sharing the last Legacy with Hakim, but except for His Majesty and Lady Sucuria, that boy—no, that man—has robbed us blind and is now making us count the pennies for him.
Hakim being on the run despite his massive gains is proof of that man's terror. He has transcended the Hadu name and forged his own bloodline.
Hybrid, Astalon, whatever, but we can no longer treat him as the heir of the Hadu. He is his own: the Primogen of the Eighth Brood." Marcus started, instantly getting the audience's maximum attention.
None rose to contradict him. None except for a man who bore a striking resemblance to Marcus:
Lucius di Antinos, Hadrian's successor.
"Overstated and overblown. He got lucky. If Trajan didn't leave his shadow vulnerable to bait Akamana into using Zagan, none of this would have happened.
Luck and opportunism! That's it. If Hadubrangr wasn't there to keep us in line, who among us wouldn't have decimated their Blood Father tens of thousands of years ago?
The lawless prince just got lucky, and is in no way worthy of all this praise." Lucius made his position clear, his fan club of femboys and twinks nodding at every word.
"Ok. And? I will ask you three very simple questions, and I want very simple answers. If Mithras di Astalon walks in now, alone and unharmed, can you stop him?
If that same Mithras enters with his hammer, can the whole brood of the Antinos stop him?
If he leads Drakneil, the Five Abominations, and the many who've tasted his broken blood, can we stop him?" Marcus asked, instantly causing Lucius to look the other way, face twitching and twisting as he swallowed his words—unable to come up with a coherent response.
The twinks and fems no longer nodded—shaking their heads instead.
"Why aren't you talking? I want answers damn it! The nerve of this punk!
The situation has never been more extreme! The very foundation and future of the entire Blood Aristocracy at stake. But you have the courage to say such dumb shit with so much confidence?
Dumb little brother of mine, if I weren't a stoic by trade, I'd slap the ape out of your primitive brain and make you choke on my fists.
Never...say such dumb shit again! Or I will have you learn that men of power and means can change even their kin in a finger snap. A level...you will never reach," Marcus said in a derisive tone, his cruel words making the blood drain off his brother's face.
Still, Lucius held his tongue, aware that if the calm and composed Marcus went this far in public...the situation had already spiraled into disaster territory.
"As if that wasn't bad enough, His Majesty is also missing in action. The Higher Planes, the Mausoleum of Evil, the Holy Continent, he could be anywhere...dead or worse...but we don't know.
We don't know! And we can only find out what he allows us to. So now, we have three choices:
First, beg Lady Sucuria to take command and lead us in her brother's absence.
Second, return to Stasis, bury the Empire, and wait for Mithras to ascend the Higher Planes before starting our counterattack.
Third...Him!" Marcus' voice broke as he reached this point. His rosy face turning pale, and his magenta eyes red as a golden-masked armored figure flashed in his mind.
The same reaction spread through the Kings and Princeps, all aware of who "Him" referred to.
"Only one man can save us in the absence of Lady Sucuria and His Majesty. And truth be told, I doubt Lady Sucuria can face Mithras.
If we want to resist the new Princeps, we don't have a choice. We have...to awaken Aurelian.
Aurelian is imperfect, but his sword has no rival under the blue sky. Invincible for a lifetime, with the blood of gods on his hands!
Blessed by the Weaver to never lose a battle so long as he silences his humanity behind his golden mask, Aurelian...is the true world strongest.
But Aurelian is pletely insane!
It is Aurelian and Hakim who caused the Blood Calamity. Starting it by murdering...the Second Emperor and his entire family.
The Blood is sacred. Hadubrangr despises nothing more than men who will not honor their blood. Hadubrangr cannot coexist with Aurelian and can always control him with the Blood.
So if we really do go through with this...we can't just bring Aurelian back. We first have to find a way...to break the Blood Oath and make Aurelian...the new Emperor.
Otherwise...Hadubrangr will kill us all! No questions asked!" Marcus' voice rumbled in the Blood Nobles' minds—forcing them to pause and consider their options.
"Mhm...so what you're really asking us...is to rebel against our sovereign, the King of Kings." A pair of bombshell twins stepped forward, facing Marcus from an equal standing:
Julia and Drusilla, Queens and Co-Rulers of the Mansema.
"Yes. Hadubrangr's might speaks for itself. But as a lord and leader, he's made several unnecessary and unacceptable mistakes.
Aurelian, however, is the perfect military leader. Imperfect as a person, but flawless in warfare—precisely what we need right now.
If it was just up to me, I'd awaken Aurelian this very instant. But it's not! It's about us, the Empire's survival, and the Legacy of the Romanoi!
So fellow brothers and sisters of the Blood Aristocracy...what are we choosing?
Poor choices, I know...but we have to pick our poison...and go down with it!" Marcus said for all to hear, but as the Blood Senate fell silent, a golden-masked figure with a slender and graceful frame walked into the room, solar blood rays flashing in their eyes as they swept the audience with a cold and disinterested look.
The newcomer didn't speak, crossing Marcus without a word to...sit on Hadubrangr's throne!
Aurelian di Hadubrangr...had made their entrance!