Chapter 250 Beating and Humiliating Kenneth

The cool night air of the Steele Estate did little to soothe the restless fire burning within Kenneth. The meeting with Alaric Steele had been… unsettling. Not the outright rejection he had anticipated, which would have been frustrating but predictable. No, Alaric had accepted Ondine’s audacious proposal, but with conditions that felt like cleverly disguised chains.

‘He wants to meet Lady Ondine himself? And demand Professor Valtor’s personal allegiance?’ Kenneth paced the confines of his luxurious guest chamber, the rich tapestries and ornate furniture doing nothing to calm his agitation. ‘That arrogant bastard. He’s trying to undermine me, to insert himself into my connections.’

He gritted his teeth. The memory of their spar months ago, the casual way Alaric had utterly dismantled him, still stung. And now, Alaric was a Grandmaster Mage, a rank Kenneth had only just reached himself, despite his own system’s rapid boosts. The gap felt… wider.

[System Reminder: Cultivate Influence. Expand Territory. Solidify Rule.]

Kenneth glanced at the faint, shimmering text only he could see. ‘Yes, yes, I know,’ he grumbled inwardly at his Eternal Emperor System. ‘But how am I supposed to expand my rule when that Steele cur keeps outshining me at every turn? He has a fortress, artifacts that kings covet, and power that defies his age.’

A surge of defiant confidence, a hallmark of his System’s influence, pushed back the frustration. ‘But I have the Eternal Emperor System! I am destined for greatness! Steele is just… an obstacle. A temporary one. Once I fully consolidate my power, once I have Ondine firmly in my grasp, and perhaps even Professor Valtor herself kneeling before my imperial might… then Alaric Steele will be nothing more than a footnote.’

He smirked, his ambition rekindled. Lady Ondine Bellerose. What a woman. Beautiful, cunning, powerful. Her interest in him felt like a validation, a sign of his rising imperial stature. And Professor Lilliana Valtor… ah, the Archmage. Conquering her, making her one of his empresses… that would be a true mark of his power.

‘I need to solidify my position with Ondine. And I need to find a way to sway Lilliana. She’s still too… professional. Too distant.’ He scowled. ‘Perhaps she needs a demonstration of my… emperor’s charm. She’s not here in the room. But there are other women in this blasted manor.’

His System often rewarded him for… acquiring assets. Beautiful, influential women. And the Steele Manor, though Alaric’s domain, was teeming with them. He had seen them. The maids, surprisingly voluptuous. The female guards, strong and alluring. And Alaric’s family…

A particular image floated into his mind. Alaric’s cousin, Fiora. Young, yes, but with a burgeoning beauty and a martial spirit that was surprisingly captivating. He remembered seeing her briefly upon their arrival, her curly blonde hair, her emerald eyes that held a spark of defiance. She was related to Alaric, which made the prospect of charming her even more… appealing. A subtle way to strike at Steele, perhaps? To show his own imperial magnetism?

[System Quest (Optional): Demonstrate Imperial Charm. Subtly acquire a new high-value female asset within the Steele household. Reward: Increased Charisma +5, Random Minor Artifact.]

Kenneth’s eyes lit up. ‘A quest! And a charisma boost! Perfect!’ The risk was there, of course. This was Alaric’s territory. But the rewards… and the thought of perhaps ruffling Alaric’s feathers by charming his own kin… it was too tempting to resist.

‘Alaric isn’t even here right now,’ Kenneth reasoned, thinking Alaric might be off with Lilliana discussing the conditions. ‘He’s probably busy with the Professor somewhere, trying to impress her with his dusty artifacts. This is the perfect opportunity.’

He decided to take a stroll. The Steele Manor was vast. Perhaps he would encounter someone… receptive.

He left his chambers, moving silently through the opulent, moonlit corridors. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of polished wood and night-blooming flowers from the inner courtyards. He passed a few patrolling guards, who merely nodded respectfully at the ‘guest’ from Jorailia.

His steps led him towards the wing Fiora occupied – he’d made a discreet inquiry earlier, under the guise of wanting to pass on greetings from a mutual acquaintance from the academy. The lie had been flimsy, but the servant hadn’t questioned it.

As he neared Fiora’s section of the manor, he heard faint sounds. Rhythmic thuds, sharp hisses of breath. She was training. Even at this late hour.

‘Dedicated. I like that in a woman,’ Kenneth thought, a predatory smile touching his lips. He felt his System’s ‘Charm Aura’ – a passive skill that made him more appealing to women – hum faintly. He focused on it, trying to project an air of casual confidence and allure.

He found her in a small, private training courtyard, bathed in moonlight. Fiora was a whirlwind of motion, her curly blonde hair flying as she moved through a series of powerful, unfamiliar katas. Her emerald eyes were focused, her breath coming in controlled bursts. Her training clothes clung to her athletic, surprisingly curvy figure, revealing the toned muscles of her arms and legs. She radiated an aura of raw, vibrant energy that was far more potent than he remembered.

‘She’s stronger than she was at the academy,’ Kenneth noted with surprise. ‘Considerably stronger. What has Steele been feeding her?’ But the thought was quickly dismissed. Her beauty, wild and untamed in this moment, was what captivated him.

Fiora finished her sequence with a powerful, ground-shaking stomp, her chest heaving. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

Kenneth stepped out from the shadows of the arched doorway. “Impressive, Lady Fiora. Such dedication, even at this late hour.” His voice was smooth, imbued with the subtle charm his System provided.

Fiora whirled around, startled. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of the practice sword resting on a nearby rack. Seeing Kenneth, she relaxed slightly, but her emerald eyes remained wary.

“Master Kenneth,” she said, her voice cool. “What are you doing here?”

“Forgive the intrusion,” Kenneth said, offering his most charming smile. He stepped closer. “I was restless. Unable to sleep. My stroll led me here. It seems fate wished for us to meet.”

Fiora didn’t return the smile. “Fate has strange ways then. This is a private training area.”

‘A bit prickly,’ Kenneth thought, but he wasn’t deterred. Some women enjoyed a challenge. He activated his [Emperor’s Gaze] skill subtly, focusing a fraction of his System’s persuasive power into his eyes, aiming to lower her inhibitions, make her more receptive.

“Indeed,” he continued, moving closer still, invading her personal space slightly. “Perhaps fate knew I wished to speak with you. To admire your… dedication. And your beauty, Lady Fiora. It truly shines, even in the moonlight.”

Fiora’s brow furrowed. She didn’t blush. She didn’t avert her gaze. Instead, her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. She didn’t feel any particular charm, no strange pull. What she felt was a prickle of annoyance at this man’s presumptuousness, his cloying words. Alaric’s compliments were direct, possessive, sometimes crude, but they felt real. This felt… hollow. And slightly insulting.

“Master Kenneth,” Fiora stated, her tone sharpening. “I am training. If you have no official business with the Steele Family, I suggest you return to your chambers.”

Kenneth chuckled softly, undeterred. ‘Fiery. I like it.’ He was used to women melting under his System-enhanced charm, but Fiora’s resistance was… intriguing. He decided to press further. He reached out, as if to gently brush a stray curl from her forehead, a classic charming gesture. “There’s no need to be so formal, Fiora. Surely, two former academy acquaintances can share a moment of… friendly conversation?” His fingers were aimed to linger, to convey intimacy.

The moment his hand moved towards her face, Fiora reacted. Instinct, honed by Alaric’s ‘training’ and the raw power of the Imperial Dragon Heart Technique, took over. There was no hesitation.

Her hand shot out, not to push his away, but to grab his outstretched wrist in a grip of iron.

Kenneth yelped in surprise, pain lancing up his arm. Her strength was astonishing. “What in the—?”

Before he could finish, Fiora twisted. Hard. Using the Dragon Heart’s principle of rooted power, she channeled her Battle Aura. A surge of raw, almost draconic energy flowed through her.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled, her emerald eyes blazing with sudden fury. Her voice was low, dangerous, completely devoid of its earlier coolness. This wasn’t just annoyance; this was protective rage. He was Alaric’s, and this man dared…

She didn’t just twist his wrist; she used the leverage to pull him off balance, simultaneously slamming her other palm, imbued with a focused Dragon Roar Burst, directly into his chest.

WHUMP!

Kenneth felt like he’d been hit by a battering ram. The air rushed from his lungs. Stars exploded behind his eyes. He stumbled backwards, his System screaming warnings.

[Physical Attack Detected! Significant Force!]

[Charm Skill: FAILED UTTERLY!]

[Target displays extreme hostility! Hostility Level: Critical!]

‘Failed?!’ Kenneth thought, his mind reeling even as pain consumed him. ‘How could it fail? My charisma is high! My gaze should have…!’

Fiora didn’t give him time to recover. She flowed into her next attack, her movements filled with the explosive power of the Imperial Dragon Heart. It wasn’t the elegant finesse of Lyra’s Solar Empress or the cutting speed of Cassandra’s Azure Gale. It was raw, overwhelming force, designed to crush and break.

“Imperial Dragon Claw Strike!” she roared, her fingers, hardened by Battle Aura, raking across his chest, tearing through his fine tunic, leaving bloody furrows.

Kenneth cried out, trying to raise his arms to defend, to cast a spell.

Too slow.

“Dragon Tail Sweep!” Fiora spun, her leg lashing out with incredible power, connecting solidly with his side. Ribs cracked audibly. Kenneth screamed, doubling over.

‘Her power! It’s… it’s beyond Master level! Grand Martialist?! Impossible!’ He had sensed her increased aura, but this raw combat effectiveness was terrifying. Alaric’s cousins were monstrously strong.

He tried to retaliate, channeling mana for a quick-fire spell, a desperate, “Magma Shard”.

Fiora was already moving. “Dragon’s Indomitable Stance!” She seemed to root herself to the ground for a split second, her aura flaring, then she launched herself forward like a cannonball. “Imperial Earth-Cracker Fist!”

Her fist, glowing with golden-emerald Battle Aura, slammed into Kenneth’s stomach. He felt his insides liquefy. He vomited, a pathetic stream of bile and undigested dinner.

The Magma Shard spell fizzled, uncast.

“How dare you?” Fiora snarled, her face a mask of cold fury. “How dare you try your pathetic tricks on me? In my home?” She punctuated each word with another blow. A knee to his groin that made him see white. An elbow to his jaw that sent his teeth rattling. A final, devastating stomp to his chest as he lay gasping on the ground.

Kenneth was broken. His body was a symphony of agony. His expensive clothes were torn and bloodied. His pride, his imperial ambition, lay shattered alongside his ribs. He couldn’t even manage a coherent thought, only waves of pain and disbelief.

[System Integrity: Critical! Physical Trauma Severe!]

[Power Levels Depleted! Recommend Immediate Retreat/Recovery!]

[Host Status: Humiliated. Broken. Pathetic]

‘Pathetic?’ Even his own System was mocking him now.

Fiora stood over him, panting slightly, her Battle Aura still blazing. The moonlight caught the fierce, protective light in her emerald eyes. She looked like a vengeful goddess.

“Guards!” Fiora called out, her voice ringing with authority.

Two Steele household guards, drawn by the commotion, rushed into the courtyard, their expressions alarmed as they took in the scene – their Young Master’s cousin standing over the battered form of the Jorailian guest.

“Lady Fiora?” one guard asked, his hand on his sword.

“This… waste… attempted to assault me,” Fiora stated coldly, gesturing towards Kenneth with contempt. “He tried to lay his hands on me. Here in my own home!” She didn’t need to elaborate on the ‘charm’ attempt. The physical transgression was enough. “Throw him in the dungeons. Let him rot.”

The guards exchanged a quick glance. Assaulting a Steele in their own manor? Unthinkable. Especially Lady Fiora, who was clearly very close to the Young Master.

Without a word, they hauled Kenneth’s groaning, broken body up. He offered no resistance; he could barely breathe.

“But… I am an emissary… Lady Ondine…” Kenneth managed to choke out, hoping his connections might save him.

Fiora merely scoffed. “Lady Ondine can send a cleaner representative next time. One who knows how to keep his hands to himself.”

The guards dragged Kenneth away, his pleas fading into pathetic whimpers. Fiora watched him go, her expression still hard. Then, she turned back to her training dummy, her movements a little more forceful, a little more vicious, as she worked off the lingering adrenaline and disgust. ‘No one touches Alaric’s family. No one.’ The thought of someone trying to charm her, to sway her loyalty from Alaric, filled her with a cold rage.

Alaric and Lilliana returned to the main manor, the exhilaration of their high-level spar slowly fading, replaced by a comfortable camaraderie. The moonlight walk back from the training field had been pleasant, filled with discussions about advanced elemental theory and Alaric’s surprisingly profound insights.

“I must admit, Alaric,” Lilliana said, a hint of genuine amusement in her voice as they entered the main hall, “your ‘Lion’s Gentle Paw’ was anything but gentle. My mana channels are still tingling.”

Alaric chuckled. “A carefully calibrated disruption, Professor. Designed to encourage… reflection.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, a playful smile on her lips. “It certainly made me reflect on the limitations of traditional Archmage defenses against… inspired unorthodoxy.” She looked at him, a new level of respect in her eyes. “You truly have become a power in your own right. It’s… astounding.”

“One learns quickly when survival is the primary curriculum,” Alaric replied smoothly, gesturing towards a side table where decanters of wine and glasses were usually kept. “A drink, Professor? To celebrate a… stimulating exchange of ideas?”

“That sounds most agreeable, Alaric,” Lilliana accepted, her earlier formality with him almost entirely gone, replaced by a warmth that surprised even herself.

Before they could reach the refreshments, however, a figure hurried towards them from the direction of the servant’s wing. It was Kara, one of Alaric’s personal maids, her usually composed expression replaced by one of concern and slight agitation.

“Young Master!” Kara exclaimed, curtsying hastily. “Forgive the intrusion, but there is a matter requiring your immediate attention.”

Alaric raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Kara? Has something happened?”

Kara glanced nervously at Professor Lilliana, then back at Alaric. “It’s… it’s regarding the guest from Jorailia, Young Master. Master Kenneth.”

Lilliana frowned. “Kenneth? What has he done now?” She had noticed his restlessness earlier, his frustration after the meeting with Alaric.

Kara took a deep breath. “Young Master, it appears Master Kenneth was… apprehended… by Lady Fiora in one of the private training courtyards a short while ago.”

“Apprehended?” Alaric’s voice sharpened almost imperceptibly. “For what reason?”

Kara hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Lady Fiora reported that Master Kenneth approached her while she was training. He… he made unwelcome advances, Young Master. Attempted to… to touch her without permission. And,” Kara lowered her voice slightly, “Lady Fiora believes he was trying to use some form of… charm magic on her. She said his words were strange, his gaze… unsettling.”

Lilliana gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Charm magic? On Lady Fiora? Kenneth wouldn’t… he couldn’t be so foolish!” A wave of embarrassment washed over her. Kenneth was part of her delegation, under her nominal supervision. For him to behave so disgracefully, in Alaric’s own home, towards Alaric’s cousin… it was mortifying.

Alaric’s expression, however, had gone dangerously still. His ruby eyes, moments before warm with amusement from his spar with Lilliana, now turned to chips of ice. Fiora. His Fiora. The sweet, devoted girl who was secretly carrying his child. This Jorailian insect had dared to lay hands on her? Had dared to try and weave his pathetic charms around her?

A cold, silent fury, far more terrifying than any overt rage, settled over Alaric.

“Lady Fiora stated he became insistent when she rebuffed his advances,” Kara continued, sensing the sudden, chilling shift in Alaric’s demeanor. “When he attempted to physically touch her face, she… she defended herself. Quite vigorously, from the reports. She utilized the Imperial Dragon Heart Technique you taught her.”

‘Good girl, Fiora,’ Alaric thought, a flicker of savage pride cutting through his rage. ‘She didn’t hesitate to protect herself. And her new technique… clearly effective.’

“Master Kenneth attempted to retaliate with magic, Young Master,” Kara added, “but Lady Fiora… well, she subdued him rather thoroughly before he could complete any spells. He is currently… indisposed… in the lower dungeons, as per Lady Fiora’s direct command to the household guards.”

‘Indisposed in the dungeons.’ Alaric almost smiled. Almost. Fiora had handled it. Perfectly. But the transgression remained. The audacity.

Lilliana looked utterly mortified. “Alaric, I… I am so deeply sorry. I had no idea Kenneth was capable of such… reprehensible behavior. He has been… ambitious, perhaps a little arrogant since his power increased, but to attempt to force himself upon Lady Fiora… to use charm magic… it’s unthinkable! I will speak to him immediately! This is an insult to your family, to your hospitality…”

Alaric raised a hand, silencing her. His voice, when he spoke, was deceptively calm, almost soft, but laced with an icy menace that made Kara shiver.

“Professor Valtor,” he said, his gaze still fixed on some distant point. “There is no need for you to apologize. Kenneth’s actions are his own. And he will answer for them. To me.”

He turned to her then, and the look in his eyes made Lilliana’s breath catch. It was cold, calculating, utterly ruthless. The charming former student was gone, replaced by the Lord of this fortress, the Grandmaster Mage whose power she had just witnessed firsthand.

“I… I understand, Alaric,” Lilliana said, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew that look. She had seen it briefly during their spar, just before he unleashed that final, devastating spell. It was the look of a predator about to strike. “What… what will you do?” A part of her felt a grim satisfaction that Kenneth would face consequences. Another, a residual sense of responsibility, felt a flicker of unease.

Alaric’s lips curved into a smile that held no warmth whatsoever. It was a chilling, predatory baring of teeth. “Oh, I intend to have a little… chat… with our ambitious Master Kenneth, Professor. To discuss the… finer points of etiquette when one is a guest in another’s home. And the consequences of disrespecting one’s host. And his family.”

He paused, then added, his voice dropping to a silken whisper, “Don’t worry, Professor. I will let him go. Eventually. He is, after all, an emissary from Jorailia, however inept. Lady Ondine Bellerose would be… displeased if her little toy returned entirely broken.” The sarcasm was biting. “But first,” his eyes gleamed with a dark, cruel light, “he will pay the price. A very steep price.”

Lilliana swallowed hard. She knew Alaric’s definition of ‘price’ likely involved far more than a stern lecture. But Kenneth had brought this upon himself. And frankly, after what he had tried to do to Fiora, a part of her felt he deserved whatever Alaric had in store for him. “I… I trust your judgment, Alaric,” she said finally, accepting the inevitable.

Alaric nodded, the cold smile still in place. He turned to Kara. “Prepare refreshments for Professor Valtor in the main salon. See to her comfort. I shall return… later.”

“Yes, Young Master,” Kara curtsied deeply, relieved to be dismissed from his terrifying presence.

Alaric then turned and strode from the hall, his movements purposeful, his aura radiating a chilling, focused intensity. He was heading towards the dungeons. Towards Kenneth.

The dungeons beneath Steele Manor were not the damp, rat-infested holes of lesser noble houses. They were carved from solid bedrock, reinforced with magic-dampening runes, each cell a testament to Steele pragmatism. Secure. Isolated. Unpleasant.

Kenneth lay on the cold stone floor of one such cell, his body a symphony of agony. His ribs felt shattered, his jaw throbbed, his groin ached with a nauseating intensity. Fiora’s Imperial Dragon Heart attacks had been brutal, overwhelming. He had barely been able to stand when the guards dragged him here.

‘She… she’s a monster,’ Kenneth thought, groaning as he tried to shift his position. ‘A beautiful, terrifying monster. And Steele… he taught her that?’ His pride was in tatters. Defeated by Alaric in a spar. Defeated by Alaric’s cousin in a simple attempt at seduction. His Eternal Emperor System felt like a cruel joke right now.

[Host Condition: Critically Damaged. Dignity: Annihilated. Recommend Grovelling.]

‘Shut up!’ Kenneth mentally snarled at the System notification.

The heavy cell door creaked open, the sound echoing in the oppressive silence. Light spilled in from the corridor, silhouetting a tall, imposing figure.

Alaric Steele.

He stepped into the cell, the door clanging shut behind him with a sound of finality. He moved with a quiet grace, his ruby eyes, like chips of ice in the dim light, fixed on Kenneth’s prone form.

Kenneth tried to push himself up, to project some semblance of defiance, but a sharp pain shot through his chest, and he collapsed back with a gasp.

Alaric stopped a few feet away, looking down at him, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then, Alaric smiled. A slow, deliberate smile that sent a fresh wave of terror through Kenneth. It was the smile of a predator looking at its cornered prey.

“Well, well, Kenneth,” Alaric began, his voice deceptively soft, almost sweet. “We meet again. And under such… unfortunate circumstances. For you, at least.”

He crouched down, bringing his face closer to Kenneth’s. The scent of sandalwood, usually so pleasant, now felt cloying, menacing.

“Tell me, Kenneth,” Alaric murmured, his ruby eyes boring into him. “Did you enjoy your little… interaction… with my cousin Fiora?”

Kenneth swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “Steele… I… it was a misunderstanding… I didn’t mean any harm…”

Alaric chuckled, a low, chilling sound. “A misunderstanding? Attempting to charm her? Trying to touch her? In my home? Does that sound like a misunderstanding to you, Kenneth?”

He reached out, his fingers gently, almost caressingly, tracing the outline of a particularly nasty bruise on Kenneth’s cheek. Kenneth flinched.

“Fiora is… special to me, Kenneth,” Alaric continued, his voice still soft, but with an underlying edge of steel. “Very special. She carries something… precious. Something that belongs to me.” He was, of course, referring to his child, a secret Kenneth couldn’t possibly comprehend, but the possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. “And you, in your infinite arrogance, dared to defile her with your pathetic advances.”

Kenneth’s eyes widened in genuine confusion. ‘Carries something precious? What is he talking about?’

“I… I didn’t know…” Kenneth stammered.

“You didn’t need to know,” Alaric cut him off, his voice hardening. “You only needed to know your place. A guest. An insignificant insect. And insects who overstep their bounds… get crushed.”

He stood up, looking down at Kenneth with contempt. “Your pride, Kenneth. Your arrogance. It truly is boundless. You came here, defeated, begging for my help. And then you have the audacity to try and poach from my own garden?”

He began to pace slowly around Kenneth’s prone form. “You have truly great arrogance. Well, why won’t you. After all, you have a little System helping you out.”

Kenneth froze. ‘He knows? He knows about my System?! How?!’ Panic, cold and absolute, gripped him. If Alaric knew about the Eternal Emperor System, knew its mechanics, its potential… he was truly doomed.

Alaric stopped pacing, standing directly over him. He crouched down again, his face inches from Kenneth’s, his breath warm against his skin.

“Oh yes, Kenneth,” Alaric whispered, his voice a silken caress that was far more terrifying than any shout. “I know you have a system. A mysterious little power that makes you think you’re special. That makes you believe you can conquer, can rule.” He chuckled softly. “I don’t know its name, Kenneth. I don’t know what grand delusions it whispers in your ear that it would make you a Supreme Overlord or the Emperor of the world? It hardly matters. All systems are all just… tools.”

Kenneth’s blood ran cold. Alaric didn’t know the exact name, but he knew enough. The casual way he dismissed the very core of Kenneth’s being, his destiny… it was soul-crushing.

“And you, Kenneth,” Alaric continued, his voice dropping to an even more intimate, more menacing whisper, “have just given me a wonderful idea. A way to truly make you understand the price of your… ambition.”

He leaned closer, his ruby eyes gleaming with a cruel, almost joyful light. “You like women, don’t you, Kenneth? You like collecting them. Charming them. Making them yours. It’s part of your little Emperor fantasy, isn’t it?”

Kenneth stared at him, speechless, a horrifying premonition dawning.

“So,” Alaric purred, his voice dripping with malicious sweetness as he delivered the killing blow to Kenneth’s already shattered pride. “Here’s what I’m going to do, Kenneth. I am going to find every woman you have ever desired. Every woman you have ever touched. Every woman who is part of your precious, secret little harem, built with your pathetic System.”

He paused, savoring the look of utter horror on Kenneth’s face.

“I don’t know who they are, Kenneth,” Alaric admitted with a theatrical sigh. “Not yet. But I am a very resourceful man. I will find them. Lady Ondine Bellerose, perhaps? Your little noble heiresses in Jorailia? Any other conquests your System has gifted you?” He smirked. “It doesn’t matter. I will uncover each and every one of them.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing Kenneth’s ear. “And then, Kenneth,” he whispered, his voice filled with a terrifying, sweet promise, “I am going to steal them from you. One by one. I will make them mine. I will make them scream my name. I will make them forget you ever existed. They will become my loyal, devoted sluts, just like every other woman who catches my eye.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes shining with sadistic glee. “And you, Kenneth, will know. You will know that everything you built, everything you desired, now belongs to me. That is the price, Kenneth. The price for daring to touch what is mine. The price for your arrogance. The price for your pathetic little System.”

Kenneth stared at him, his world collapsing. Alaric’s words were not idle threats. He could feel it. The power radiating from him, the cold, ruthless determination in his eyes… Alaric Steele was capable of anything. He would do it. He would take everything.

Despair, absolute and crushing, washed over Kenneth. His System, his ambition, his women… all would be lost. He was nothing. Alaric Steele had not just defeated him; he had utterly, irrevocably, broken him. The Emperor was dead. Only a terrified, humiliated shell remained.