Chapter 130: Eskil’s Influence Grows

Lyra, her face and breasts still glistening with Alaric’s seed, looked up at him with a mixture of awe and desire. A small smile played on her lips as she reached up, touching her tongue to her lips, tasting his essence.

’It’s… warm,’ she thought, a shiver running down her spine. ’And… surprisingly… not unpleasant.’

She then licked her breasts, savoring the salty, slightly sweet taste. A wave of heat washed over her, her lower regions throbbing with renewed desire.

Alaric chuckled, pulling her closer, his eyes fixed on her face. “Satisfied?” he asked, his voice low and suggestive.

Lyra nodded slowly, her eyes meeting his. “More than,” she whispered, her voice husky and breathy.

Alaric smirked, pulling her up and leading her back to the bed. “Good,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Because now it’s my turn to fulfill your request.”

He pushed her gently onto the bed, his eyes scanning her body, lingering on her ample curves. He then climbed onto the bed, positioning himself above her.

“Ready, Mother?” he asked, his voice low and suggestive.

Lyra nodded, her eyes closing, her body trembling with anticipation. She was more than ready. She was desperate for his touch, for his embrace.

Alaric leaned down, kissing her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth, igniting a fire within her. He then began to undress her, slowly and deliberately, his fingers tracing the curves of her body, sending shivers down her spine.

He then undressed himself, his gaze never leaving hers. He could see the desire burning in her eyes, the longing in her expression.

He then positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locking with hers. He entered her slowly, gently, giving her time to adjust.

“Tight as ever, I see,” Alaric teased, a playful smirk on his lips. “You really know how to keep a man… interested.”

Lyra blushed, but she didn’t pull away. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper.

Alaric began to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic, his pace quickening. He could feel her body responding to his, her hips moving in sync with his.

“So wet,” Alaric whispered, his voice low and suggestive. “You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you, Mother?”

Lyra moaned softly, her head falling back against the pillow. She was lost in the moment, consumed by the pleasure, the humiliation adding an extra layer of excitement to the experience.

Alaric continued his assault, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more demanding. He could feel her tightening around him, her pussy molding perfectly to the shape of his dick.

“It’s like it was made for me,” Alaric teased, his voice laced with amusement. “So tight, so warm, so… perfect.”

Lyra gasped, her body arching beneath him. She was reaching her peak, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

Alaric then quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, more intense. He could feel himself reaching his own climax, his body shuddering with anticipation.

He cried out, his voice filled with pleasure, his seed erupting forth, filling her womb with his essence. He collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Lyra lay beneath him, her body still trembling from the intensity of their shared climax. She had almost forgotten her original motive for coming to his room. The pleasure had completely overwhelmed her, erasing all other thoughts from her mind.

It was in this moment, however, that the surge of energy she needed finally came. She felt a warmth spreading through her body, a tingling sensation that reached every part of her being. She knew it. This was it. The tonic energy she needed to break through.

’It’s… working,’ she thought, a sense of awe washing over her. ’I can feel it. I’m breaking through.’

But even as she felt her martial prowess surging, her mind was still focused on the pleasure that Alaric had just given her. She had lost herself in the moment, completely surrendering to his touch, his dominance.

Almost immediately, Alaric shifted his position, lifting her in his arms, his dick still inside her. He began to thrust again, this time with even more force, his movements aggressive and demanding.

He began spanking her buttocks with his free hand, the slaps echoing through the room, adding another layer of intensity to their encounter.

Lyra gasped, her head falling back, her moans filling the room. She was completely lost in the moment, her body responding to his every touch, every thrust, every spank.

Alaric continued his assault, his movements relentless, his desire burning hotter than ever.

~~

The morning light streamed through the window, illuminating the disheveled bed and the two figures entwined within its sheets. Lyra stirred, a soft smile gracing her lips. She stretched, feeling a newfound lightness in her body, a sense of power surging through her veins.

’It… it worked,’ she thought, a wave of elation washing over her. ’I actually did it. I broke through.’

She focused her senses, feeling the flow of energy within her, the subtle changes in her body’s structure. She could feel the power of the elements coursing through her, ready to be unleashed.

She had finally reached the Grand Martialist rank, a significant milestone in her martial journey. She could now properly utilize the elemental martial sword techniques that she had been studying for years.

’It’s not as versatile as a mage’s elemental magic,’ she thought, recalling the limitations of martial elemental techniques. ’But for a martial artist to even wield elemental power… it’s a significant achievement.’

She now ranked among the strongest martial artists in the entire Eloriath Kingdom. She had achieved a level of power that commanded respect and recognition.

Alaric, who had been watching her silently, smirked. “Feeling… refreshed, Mother?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

Lyra turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I… I did it, Alaric,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “I actually broke through. I’m a Grand Martialist now.”

Alaric nodded, reaching out and gently fondling her buttocks. “I know,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “I could feel it.”

Lyra blushed slightly, but she leaned into his touch, enjoying the familiar warmth of his hand on her skin.

“There’s… one more thing,” Alaric said, his voice turning cold, a serious edge to his tone.

Lyra looked at him, her eyes widening slightly. “What is it?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

“At the Grand Banquet,” Alaric said, his eyes meeting hers, “I want you to invite your sister, Cassandra.”

Lyra blinked, surprised by his request. “Cassandra?” she repeated, her brow furrowing. “Why?”

She nestled closer to Alaric, letting him continue to enjoy her voluptuous body. She was quite happy that he was enjoying it.

Alaric began to fondle her large breasts as he answered her question. “Because of the artifact I’ll be unveiling,” he said, his voice even. “I want her to witness its introduction to the world.”

He then leaned down, gently biting her nipple, eliciting a soft moan from her. He continued to fondle her other breast, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

’That hot aunt of mine,’ Alaric thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. ’It would be a pity not to enjoy that body as well. She’s just as beautiful as Mother, after all.’

He had many… plans for his aunt Cassandra, plans that he wasn’t ready to share with his mother just yet.

Lyra, still basking in the afterglow of their intimate encounter and her newfound power, nodded slowly. She trusted Alaric’s judgment, even if she didn’t fully understand his reasons.

“Of course, Alaric,” she said softly. “I’ll invite her. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to attend.”

Alaric smirked, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against hers. “Good,” he whispered. “I knew I could count on you, Mother.”

He then began to kiss her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth, reigniting the fire that had been burning between them.

Meanwhile, the Steele mansion continued to be a hive of activity, the preparations for the Grand Banquet reaching their final stages. Servants scurried back and forth, carrying decorations, setting up tables, and ensuring that everything was perfect.

The temporary banquet hall, constructed in the clearing near the mansion, was a sight to behold. It was a massive structure, capable of accommodating hundreds of guests, decorated with elegant tapestries, shimmering chandeliers, and fragrant flowers.

The chefs were busy preparing a lavish feast, a culinary masterpiece that would tantalize the taste buds of even the most discerning palate. The musicians were rehearsing their performances, their melodies filling the air with a festive atmosphere.

Rosalind, with her sharp mind and keen eye for detail, oversaw every aspect of the preparations, ensuring that everything ran smoothly and efficiently. She was a whirlwind of energy, directing the servants, coordinating with the suppliers, and making sure that every detail was perfect.

Iridelle, despite her divided attention with the eleven ’Phone’ production companies, also contributed significantly to the banquet preparations. She used her organizational skills to manage the logistics, ensuring that everything was delivered on time and in the right place.

The atmosphere in the mansion was electric, filled with anticipation and excitement. Everyone knew that this banquet was more than just a social gathering. It was a pivotal moment for the Steele family, a chance to reclaim their lost prestige and establish themselves as a force to be reckoned with in the Eloriath Kingdom.

~~

The month leading up to the Grand Banquet passed with a steady, almost relentless pace. Time, like a well-trained horse, galloped forward, carrying the Steele family ever closer to their moment of reckoning. The mansion was abuzz with energy, a hive of activity where even the faintest whisper seemed to echo the urgency of preparations.

Alaric Steele, for all his composure, found himself swept up in the chaos. The grand halls of the estate were crowded with servants rushing to and fro, decorators balancing precariously on ladders, and couriers delivering supplies by the wagonload. Each room seemed to hum with a sense of purpose, as though the mansion itself had come alive in anticipation.

His mother, Lyra Steele, the matriarch of the family, had taken a direct hand in the planning. A striking woman with sharp eyes that missed nothing, Lyra moved through the bustling halls like a conductor directing an orchestra. Every detail, from the floral arrangements to the guest list, bore her meticulous touch.

Outside the gilded walls of the Steele estate, a different kind of activity was unfolding—one far less refined, but no less urgent.

The Phantom Assembly, a shadowy organization operating on the fringes of the kingdom’s society, was in the midst of a frantic search. Their leader, Lord Vortan, had issued a command that left no room for error: locate the individual who possessed the Azure Spirit Lion’s Beast Essence.

Zylle, one of Vortan’s trusted subordinates, stood at the helm of the operation. Her beautiful features were marred by a constant frown, a reflection of the weight on her shoulders. Nearby, Brita Kuusk, still nursing both physical wounds and her bruised pride, was reviewing a map spread across a worn table.

“Any new leads?” Zylle asked, her voice low and clipped.

Brita looked up, her expression dark. “Not yet. Whoever that mage is, he’s a ghost. No sightings, no trail—nothing.”

Zylle exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lord Vortan isn’t going to accept excuses, Brita. He made that abundantly clear.”

’I can still hear his voice,’ Zylle thought grimly. ’That cold, unyielding tone. “Find him… or face the consequences.” As if we needed more motivation.’

Brita’s jaw tightened, and she slammed a dagger into the table with a thud. “I know what’s at stake, Zylle! Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten. That mage… He humiliated me. I’ll find him if it’s the last thing I do.”

Zylle regarded her for a moment, noting the fire in her eyes. ’She’s determined, I’ll give her that. But determination won’t be enough if we keep coming up empty-handed.’

Brita, oblivious to his thoughts, was already issuing orders to her team. “Spread out. Check every town, every village. If there’s even a whisper of someone with unusual magic, I want to know about it. No detail is too small.”

As her team dispersed, Brita muttered under her breath, “That upstart mage… He’ll pay for what he did to me.”

The search teams fanned out across the kingdom, scouring bustling cities and remote hamlets alike. They left no stone unturned, interrogating villagers, bribing informants, and chasing down every rumor.

In the crowded marketplace of a small town, a pair of Phantom Assembly members questioned a blacksmith.

“Seen any strangers around here?” one of them asked, leaning casually against the forge.

The blacksmith, a burly man with soot-streaked arms, shrugged. “We get strangers passing through all the time. You’ll have to be more specific.”

The other member stepped forward, lowering his voice. “We’re looking for someone special. A mage. Rumor has it he’s got some kind of rare power.”

The blacksmith frowned, wiping his hands on a rag. “Can’t say I’ve heard of anyone like that. But if you’re after mages, you might try the capital. Always a few of them hanging around there.”

The Assembly members exchanged a glance before moving on, frustration etched on their faces.

Meanwhile, Brita led her own team through the dense forests near the eastern border. Her wounds had healed enough to allow her to travel, but the memory of her encounter with the mysterious mage still burned in her mind.

’I’ll never forget that aura,’ she thought, her grip tightening on the reins of her horse. ’Even if I didn’t see his face, I’d recognize it anywhere.’

Her second-in-command, a wiry man named Vlatko, rode beside her. “You think we’ll find him out here?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

“If he’s smart, he’ll be hiding somewhere remote,” Brita replied. “But no one can stay hidden forever.”

Vlatko smirked. “And when we do find him? What then?”

Brita’s eyes narrowed. “We bring him to Lord Vortan, of course. But before that…” She trailed off, her expression darkening.

Vlatko chuckled. “Before that, you’re going to make him regret crossing you, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Brita muttered.

Back at the Assembly’s headquarters, Zylle paced the length of the room, her frustration mounting with each passing day. The reports coming in from the field were all the same: no sign of the mage, no significant leads.

’It’s like he vanished into thin air,’ Zylle thought, slamming a fist against the table. ’How can someone disappear so completely?’

She glanced at the map pinned to the wall, its surface covered in pins and markings that represented every location they had searched. Despite their exhaustive efforts, the mage with the Azure Spirit Lion’s Beast Essence remained as elusive as a shadow.

One of her subordinates entered the room, a nervous look on his face. “Sir, we’ve just received a report from the southern region. A farmer claims to have seen a mage matching the description.”

Zylle’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

The subordinate hesitated. “And… it turned out to be a traveling healer. Nothing unusual.”

Zylle’s shoulders slumped, and he waved the man away. As the door closed behind him, Zylle let out a weary sigh.

’If we don’t find him soon, Lord Vortan will start looking for someone to blame. And I have no intention of being his scapegoat.’

The days turned into weeks, and still, the Phantom Assembly’s search yielded nothing. In the back of her mind, Brita couldn’t shake the feeling that the mage was always one step ahead of them, watching from the shadows as they fumbled in the dark.

’You can’t hide forever,’ she thought, her resolve hardening with each passing day. ’I’ll find you. And when I do, you’ll wish you’d never crossed paths with me.’

But for now, the mage remained a phantom, a whisper in the wind that eluded their grasp.

Meanwhile, on the eastern borders, Eskil’s plans were progressing smoothly.

Eskil reclined in the plush chair behind his desk, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a golden hue across his office. The room, situated in his mansion near the eastern borders, was modestly decorated but exuded authority. Stacks of papers and maps were meticulously arranged on his desk, reflecting his current role as a Major in the military stationed here. A half-empty glass of wine sat at his elbow, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

’Smooth as silk,’ he thought, swirling the crimson liquid lazily. ’Things are falling into place perfectly.’

The alliance with Zoran Hylaris and Danica Olendir had proven to be a stroke of genius. It wasn’t just about power—it was about precision. They needed him, and Eskil thrived in that dynamic. His ability to read people, understand their desires, and exploit their weaknesses had turned him into an invaluable asset. And he loved every second of it.

The sound of footsteps approaching the office interrupted his thoughts. His aide, a sharp-eyed young man named Calder, entered with a respectful nod.

“Major Eskil,” Calder began, setting down a sealed envelope on the desk, “a report from the Hylaris estate. They’ve confirmed the rumors have reached all the key ears.”

Eskil’s smirk deepened. He picked up the envelope but didn’t bother opening it. “Good,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “And what’s the word on Zoran’s little brother?”

Calder hesitated for a moment, then replied, “The gambling debts you orchestrated—well, the fake ones—are being whispered about in every noble circle. The man’s reputation is in shambles. And as for his… other activities, the fabricated evidence is airtight. No one doubts its authenticity.”

Eskil chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “It’s amazing what people will believe when they already want to see someone fall. The Hylaris patriarch must be furious.”

“From what we’ve heard, yes,” Calder confirmed. “Zoran’s brother has lost significant support from the elders. It’s only a matter of time before he’s completely sidelined.”

Leaning back in his chair, Eskil allowed himself a moment of indulgence. ’A few rumors here, a bit of forged evidence there, and the man’s ambitions crumbled like a poorly built wall. It’s almost too easy.’

“Make sure Zoran knows he owes me for this,” Eskil said, waving a hand. “I want him fully aware that his rise is tied to my efforts.”

Calder nodded, making a quick note. “And what about Danica Olendir?”

At the mention of her name, Eskil’s smirk widened into a grin. Danica was a fascinating piece of work. Fierce, determined, and just reckless enough to be molded into a leader. He had taken a different approach with her.

“Danica’s progress?” Eskil asked, his tone more curious than concerned.

“She’s already gained significant respect among her family,” Calder replied. “Those border raids you planned for her have been wildly successful. She’s being hailed as a tactical genius.”

Eskil tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It’s amusing, isn’t it? Her family always underestimated her because of their outdated notions about women in leadership. Now they’re tripping over themselves to praise her.”

He could still recall their conversations vividly. Danica, despite her confidence, had needed convincing at first.

“I’m not interested in playing politics, Eskil,” she had said during one of their late-night strategy meetings. “I’d rather fight than scheme.”

“And you’ll fight,” he had assured her with a sly smile. “But smart warriors use every weapon at their disposal, including politics. Let me handle the scheming. You just focus on winning those battles.”

Now, her victories on the battlefield were shifting the perception of her within the Olendir family. Those who once dismissed her as an impractical dreamer were now grudgingly acknowledging her potential.

’They’re dinosaurs,’ Eskil mused, pouring himself another glass of wine. ’Clinging to their old ways, refusing to adapt. They’ll be fossils soon enough.’

“Any trouble from the other contenders for family leadership?” he asked Calder, raising an eyebrow.

“None that we can’t handle,” Calder replied smoothly. “Their arguments against Danica are starting to sound desperate. She’s gaining ground with every passing day.”

“Perfect,” Eskil murmured. He took a sip of his wine and leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. “And how are Zoran and Danica holding up? They’re not getting too… independent, are they?”

Calder hesitated briefly before responding. “They both trust your guidance completely. Zoran’s relying on you more than ever, especially after his brother’s downfall. And Danica—she’s starting to see you as her key to securing her future.”

Eskil’s grin returned, though it carried a hint of menace. “Good. Keep it that way. The moment they start thinking they can do this without me, we’ll have a problem.”

There was a knock at the door, and a messenger entered, bowing low. “Major Eskil, a letter from the Olendir estate. Lady Danica sends her regards and thanks you for your continued support.”

Eskil took the letter, his fingers brushing over the wax seal. Breaking it open, he scanned the contents. It was filled with flowery gratitude and promises of loyalty. Typical Danica—polite to a fault but always with an undertone of strength.

“She’s learning,” he said aloud, tossing the letter onto his desk. “Flattery gets you everywhere, doesn’t it?”

Calder chuckled softly. “She seems to know how to play the game.”

“Because I taught her,” Eskil replied, his tone dripping with satisfaction. He turned to Calder, his expression shifting to one of focus. “What’s next on the agenda?”

“We need to solidify Zoran’s position within the Hylaris family,” Calder said promptly. “His father is still hesitant to name him as the heir. And as for Danica, there’s a minor faction within her family that’s still resisting her rise.”

Eskil tapped a finger on the desk, considering his options. “For Zoran, we’ll stage an incident—something that requires him to step up and prove his leadership. Maybe a border skirmish or a trade dispute. As for Danica…” He paused, a wicked glint in his eye. “Let’s arrange a gathering. A chance for her to showcase her diplomatic skills. We’ll make it seem like her idea, of course.”

Calder nodded, already jotting down the details. “Understood. I’ll start the preparations immediately.”

As the aide left, Eskil leaned back once more, the weight of his scheming feeling almost tangible. He glanced out the window, where the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

’Two families, completely dependent on me,’ he thought, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. ’Their rivals dismantled, their futures secured—all because of me.’

A knock interrupted his thoughts again, this time softer, almost hesitant. “Enter,” he called.

A young soldier stepped in, saluting sharply. “Major Eskil, your presence is requested at the command post. There’s been a development on the border.”

Eskil’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of mild annoyance. “Of course, there has,” he muttered under his breath. Rising from his chair, he grabbed his cloak and gestured for the soldier to lead the way.

As he walked through the halls of his mansion, his mind was already at work, plotting his next moves.

Zoran Hylaris and Danica Olendir might have thought they were using him to rise to power, but Eskil knew the truth.

’I’m not their tool,’ he thought, his smirk returning as he stepped into the cool evening air. ’They’re mine.’

’And with their backing,’ Eskil thought, ’I’ll be more than ready to face Alaric Steele. I’ll make him regret ever crossing me.’

Back at the Steele mansion, the final preparations for the Grand Banquet were underway. The decorations were in place, the menu was finalized, and the invitations had been sent.

Alaric, Rosalind, and Iridelle were putting the finishing touches on their plans, ensuring that everything was perfect. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, everyone eager to see the results of their hard work.

’This is it,’ Alaric thought, a sense of excitement building within him. ’The moment of truth is almost here.’