Vaid Empire: Conquest Ch. 94

Vaid Empire: Conquest is a massive fantasy series that aims to mix erotica with the quality of a published novel. New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

The world of Ayphieal is shattered and chaotic, with kingdoms and tribes of six distinctive races vying for territory amongst themselves. It is only when a young human warrior finally pushes back against the chaos that the world begins to shift towards order.

***

14th of Twic, 19 AVE.

Kingdom of Lian, Near Praith.

"Here," Hesin pointed to the tree looming ahead. "Time to rise."

Nafalya peered at the monstrous giant before them as it reached into the sky. Only a madman would ever dream to touch its highest branches, yet today, they'd do so or fall. She smirked behind her mask, amused at the challenge.

She watched The Grand Master seize the lead as he began to ascend the tree, black cloak dangling from his shoulders. The rest followed one by one as a dozen Truthseekers waited their turn. When her lover had climbed higher than many of the largest trees in Vaidrin, appearing like a black insect clinging to the gargantuan trunk, he was still only beginning his journey upward.

Nestled near the rear, Nafalya finally claimed her turn in the long line of climbers. Her fingers brushed the smooth wood, rubbery, subtly wet from the jungle humidity. The many wrinkles and crevices were made more prominent by the tree's vast size, providing ample handholds. Grasping a nook, pulling herself to the next above, she knew the motion would be repeated countless times before they reached the top.

Every grasp had to be secure. Every foot wedged in a crevice had to be steady. No rope would catch her if she fell. As the ground grew further away with every passing minute, she knew a misstep would send her tumbling to her grave.

Looking up, she saw her fellow Truthseekers following their Grand Master in a neat line. The robes of thin white silk fluttering from the hips of the woman above her concealed little as she spied a glance, wondering if the woman below would do the same to her. She cared little if she did, so long as the sight between her legs did not distract the woman from her grip.

Peering down, she knew the fall would kill any ordinary human. Minutes later, she debated over whether her powers would save her. Cendra often used her powers to fortify her strength and agility. Would fortifying herself during such a fall be viable? The further she climbed, the more she doubted. The debate soon became irrelevant, for as she looked down once more, she knew even she would shatter like an egg if she fell now.

As if coaxed by her pondering, her fingers slipped as she found the next handhold. Silver eyes widening, the grasp of her other hand saved her, holding with all her strength. She wiped the perspiration from her fingertips, carefully seeking an alternative hold.

Up and up and up. The jungle floor below appeared blanketed in a light darkness, concealed as a low cloud of mist crept across the land in gentle waves. The higher they climbed, the more sunlight trickled through the countless branches to meet them. They passed the halfway mark, ever climbing, knowing there'd be no retreat. It'd take longer to return to the ground than to reach the top.

Except for the woman above Nafalya. Misjudging a nook, her hand slipped, sending the rest of her body tumbling backwards. Nafalya watched her come, hearing her surprised gasp. Time nearly seemed to slow as she judged the falling woman's trajectory. She assessed her own grip, finding her stability insufficient. To reach out for the woman's falling hand would yank her own from the tree, sending them both to their ends. Instead, she watched the doomed woman tumble past.

As a wail echoed, growing fainter, cutting off with a loud thud, Nafalya frowned in disappointment. "Eleven."

Never did they stop. Never did they utter a word for their fallen. As they neared the top, the size of the branches matched the great beast from which they sprang. Thick limbs stretched forth, as if able to hold up the sky itself.

She could feel the exhaustion radiating from the trained bodies of her companions. With the divine blood of The God Emperor in her veins, however, she felt little more than a subtle ache in her arms and thighs as she focused, coaxing her strength.

Despite their straining limbs, none made a sound of complaint. None slowed. Only the gasp of another woman below hinted at her panic as she too slipped, hands frantically seeking, finding no salvation. Falling while delectably close to the peak, she had ample time to ponder her fate as it rushed to meet her.

"Ten," Nafalya thought.

Only when they reached the top did they find their rest. Hesin led them onto a wide branch, nestled beneath the tallest reaches of the tree. A canopy of endless leaves still stretched out to dominate the jungle above their heads, yet sunlight poured heavily from gaping holes in the natural ceiling.

"Onward," Hesin commanded after a moment of rest. Mercifully, the path ahead was less strenuous, for they followed the extent of the colossal branch carefully.

A long fall rested at either side of their path, eager to pull them down to an early death, yet the thickness of the branch was easily navigated. When it began to thin near its end, they simply leapt onto the next, following it to the trunk of a neighboring tree and onward.

A jog of several miles to Praith would've been simple enough. Moving from branch to branch, however, proved exceedingly complex. Hesin was required to choose ideal branches to follow, eyeing where they could reach another from afar. As if they were a labyrinth of pathways cutting through a treacherous swamp, some branches were simple to follow, while others were a tangled maze that required backtracking. Some offered safety. Others offered death.

As they were following a branch, minding their balance, a monstrosity reached from beneath the tree limb to snatch a woman's ankles. Of the two pairs of arms that struck, many more waited behind, for the creature's long, feathered body crept forth just enough to seize its meal. The woman went down frantically seeking her dagger, pulled beneath the branch before anyone could offer their aid. Nafalya felt the tiny vibrations in the wood as it scurried away. The group kept their daggers in hand whenever possible afterward.

"Nine."

As they reached a gap they couldn't jump across, Hesin signaled for a rope. A Truthseeker stepped forth, tossing it far to the next branch. Though The Grand Master and the others swung across to a lower branch, Nafalya concentrated, leaping far across the gap.

Hesin granted her a nod. The first Truthseekers had been critical to The Empire, though they were merely human. Now that her countless bastard siblings were reaching maturity, ordinary blood was being replaced for the divine. Vaidspawn were filling the ranks of The Hesian Order, for the original members could compete no longer. Still sworn to serve, many already carried her father's children in their bellies, eager to birth new members. A 'retirement' of sorts, their loyalty never ending.

As they gradually made their way through the jungle heights, they paused at the distant sight of flapping wings. A Lanthian patrol soared through the branches below. When the enemy had passed, they continued, moving silently.

Another gap lay before them. Another rope was presented. Jumping across, Nafalya watched them swing one by one. When the branch supporting the rope snapped, she watched as a swinging woman fell through the air, still clutching the now limp rope tightly. A testament to her training, the woman made no sound as she fell. No cry of panic echoed. No scream called out to alert their enemy. She fell with her expressionless mask concealing silent horror, curling into a ball as if trying to prepare for the ground far below. She disappeared into the darkness as the sun hung upon the horizon, painting the trees with the last orange light she'd ever see.

"Eight."

"She had a slab," one of the women whispered.

The others silently noted their remaining supplies. Three copies of Lalian's translated demands had been strapped to three backs. Two remained.

As the light began to fade, they moved cautiously. When Nafalya saw the first lights of Praith shining through the trees, she smirked. "There. Your victory awaits, father."

Bioluminescent flowers glowed in the darkness as night settled in. Near the jungle ceiling, the moonlight was their guide. Careful steps approached the city, like an oasis of lights in the dark trees. They were close enough to see buildings, and Nafalya eyed the countless wooden dwellings littering the trees ahead. They appeared to circle the gargantuan trunks of trees, lined with curving walkways illuminated with glowing orange flowers grown strategically to hang over doorways and to illuminate narrow alleys.

When they reached the edge of Praith, they slipped beneath the nearest home, following the branches that ran just beneath the city.

Nafalya concentrated, remembering Anthara's map. Though they would not walk the streets themselves, they followed the walkways from below, guided through the chaotic maze above.

Moving silently, they heard the sounds of the population above as many prepared for the night. Some strolled along the pathways, oblivious to the danger beneath their feet. Others flapped their wings, hopping from one level of the city to another.

Blanketed by darkness, Nafalya watched as two women walked across a bridge nearby, leading a slave behind, collared in gold. The sight of his missing wings reminded her of Lord Lalian, eying his mutilated groin.

Another slave presented himself before a mistress. Younger, he was locked tightly in chastity, presumably having yet to fight in his trials. Though still retaining his wings, they were bound in delicate chains. The woman spoke in the Lanthian tongue, strange words that sound harsh and taunting as she ran a finger over his trapped cock. Muttering a whimper, the young man brushed his cage against her green thigh. Nafalya didn't need to speak their tongue to hear the desperation dripping from his lips.

They crept beneath a dwelling. Through the subtle cracks in floorboards that demanded to be replaced, they saw the form of a woman on her back, wings splayed, another woman kneeling between her legs. A hand glided across smooth Lanthian skin, seeking between her thighs. A moan was a moan in any language.

Venturing deeper into the city, they paused whenever a warrior flew by or below. The city was a hive, protected, echoing with life in all directions. For a moment Nafalya thought of Hesin's words. "No matter how tall they stand, their foundation remains flammable." For a moment she was pleased they had found an alternative. Destroying a source of potential citizens was hardly efficient.

Remembering the map, she looked over to see the incubation temple sitting upon a distant platform, confirming their whereabouts. The only building of stone they had encountered thus far, decorated in golden symbols, she wondered how many eggs rested inside its walls.

They heard the flapping of wings below. Peering over the edge of their current branch, Nafalya realized a warrior was rising, her trajectory bringing her dangerously close. Nafalya pulled a throwing knife from her belt and prepared. As the woman passed by, her gaze unlucky enough to find the group in the darkness, her cry of alert was silenced by a tiny blade as Nafalya flung it precisely into her throat. She watched a green spray hurl from her victim's neck before the woman fluttered down into the darkness, disappearing forever.

The death struck her once more, her second burden to bear. It came lightly, dampened by the first. She merely nodded with a whisper. "Rest."

Another woman moaned as they continued. Other dwellings had darkened as their inhabitants settled into sleep. Through illuminated floorboards, however, they passed beneath the figure of a slave kneeling, bent over as his mistress guided a polished rod into his rear. Nafalya's mask concealed her smirk of amusement, glancing up briefly to watch the man kiss the feet of a second mistress.

Her advanced silver eyes permitted her to maneuver faster than her companions in the darkness. She quickly reached Hesin's side, slowing herself to grant him the lead.

When the sight of the round platform ahead caught her eye, holding the throne of Praith, her careful foot slid across a patch of slippery moss. Tumbling over the edge of the branch, she was certain of her doom before a firm hand snatched her arm, pulling her back. Discovering her rescuer to be Hesin, she shared a grateful nod with her lover before continuing. Heart calming, she was pleased she hadn't called out.

Slowly, knowing a misstep would be their end, they made their way around the platform, seeking the tree rising beside it. A public pathway curved down its surface, yet their target was somewhere lower.

Nafalya concentrated, feeling the minds of the guards inside. She gestured to a small entrance carved into the trunk below, following their Grand Master.

For the holiest place in all of Praith, Nafalya found the entrance to be somewhat underwhelming. Little hint of the chamber's importance was on display outside, its entrance crudely carved into the wood. Only two guards stood upon the tiny platform outside, reachable only by flight or a careful climb. It seemed the chamber's greatest defense was concealment, appearing no more important than any other tunnel. Already they had passed dozens of identical holes in dozens of other trees, sometimes guarded, sometimes not. She made a mental note to thank Anthara for her betrayal, if she survived the night.

Hesin commanded them to wait. Climbing beneath the entrance platform alone, he pulled himself up swifter than a man half his age, rolling, hopping to his feet, slashing his blade before the bored guards could react. Green throats spilled dark green blood as the women tumbled over the edge. With a signal, he ordered the others to follow.

They made their way to the platform, pressing close to fit. When Nafalya peeked through the entrance, she saw a deep, amber-colored glow from inside.

Hesin led them through the entrance. A circular chamber awaited, glowing, the walls carved from the surrounding tree. Moving without a sound, they caught the guards unaware, moving swiftly as six Lanthians roamed the wide room. Blades from behind silenced their voices eternally, while others were put down by throwing knives when they turned around too soon. No call cried out but the gurgles of dying women.

Nafalya's eyes glimmered with curiosity as they beheld the sight around them. Narrow pits were carved into the floor, and as she knelt beside one, she ran her fingers through the glowing liquid that filled each pit. Viscous and thick, it swirled slowly at her touch, glowing a deep amber light. "The Saitha Anthara spoke of." Peering through the liquid, she saw the outline of a body inside. "Curious."

"How kind of them to save their revered dead for our use," Hesin replied. With a gesture, he commanded two Truthseekers to the side of a fallen guard. "Put a slab on her. That one won't be receiving a burial, it seems."

One of the women bolted a slab to the corpse with a dagger before they strung it up outside, dead arms and legs splayed by ropes to block the entrance.

"Now, we make good on our promise. Pull them out," he commanded.

Nafalya assisted her companions as they reached into the pits, hands plunging into the strange liquid. Having been filled to the brim, the liquid oozed slowly over the edges at their intrusion. When her fingers found soft flesh, she pulled.

The figure of a Lanthian warrior was hauled from her pit, discarded to the floor with a wet slap. Drenched, the woman had been decorated in the finest gold jewelry and loincloth they had witnessed upon any citizen they had observed, a golden spear slipping from her hands. Rolling the corpse onto her back, they saw a large cut running across her stomach, sewn up tightly with care.

"Impossible. She couldn't have perished earlier than yesterday," a Truthseeker noted, touching the corpse's wet skin. Behind, others were hauled from their pits.

"Anthara claims otherwise," Hesin replied dismissively. "I don't care how fresh they appear, nor if I can slide myself into their cunts without too great a disgust. We've come for a purpose, and now that purpose is to wait." He nudged the nearest corpse with his foot, finding it pliable. "Our demands are listed clearly. The moment any of them try to take a single step inside, begin to cut."

Nafalya eyed the other corpses. Fatal wounds had been tended to, repaired as best they could be. A missing eye was sewn shut on one, while another's throat presented a large gash that had been carefully closed. Their green skin dripped as the viscous protection gradually oozed to the floor. The Miarch's time was limited.

"We've done our part," Nafalya thought to herself. "Now, the rest falls to you, father."

15th of Twic, 19 AVE.

Kingdom of Lian, Near Praith.

"It... hurts..."

Electricity crackled in the darkness of the tent. The God Emperor loomed over his son, electricity pouring continuously from his fingertips like trickling webs to engulf the boy. "Savor the agony. Tear it down from its throne and make it your servant."

The young prince remained on his knees, hands gripped in squeezing pain as he fought to endure. Electricity danced across his skin, his back bare to every stringing flicker of lightning. "Please... father..."

A hint of smoldering smoke rose from his form. Only Dominax's carefully controlled flow prevented the boy's skin from scaring. "Never beg. You are The Prince Upholder of Vaidrin, the heir to my throne. You will not succumb to a mere trickle of my power."

Gritting his teeth, holding back a whimper, Arinax felt as if his body would rip apart in an instant. He wanted to weep, to flee to his mother's side, yet there was no escaping his agony. Only mere seconds had passed during their previous session before he collapsed. When he surpassed his record this time, he knew he wouldn't survive another minute. As tears threatened to fill his gaze, the minute passed, yet still he remained upright.

"I've sired an army of allies that share our blood. Should one ever turn against you, merely shrug his attacks as little more than an irritant," Dominax's words oozed through the darkness, accompanied only by the crackling of electricity. "None shall break you when I've finished molding you, my boy. None shall bring you down."

Never could he survive another minute. He'd surely perish, he thought. When the minute was over, Arinax continued to endure.

"The world shall try to rip you away from me. Instead, you'll survive." Flickering light danced across Dominax's merciless features. "You shall stand at my side, claim my sword and throne, and continue my legacy when the time comes. No other fate shall do."

Tears pouring down his cheeks, Arinax's wanted to scream, to cry out. A thought of the vision his father spoke of nearly sent him collapsing to the ground. When next he thought of his mother, however, he felt his strength solidify. Her face offered a comforting smile in his memory, urging him to endure. Focusing on his blinding agony, he seized it, teeth bared.

"Yes, rise, Arinax," Dominax chuckled in satisfaction. "Rise, my boy."

He imagined his mother's hand guiding him upward. Rather than collapse, Arinax loosed a low rumble of pain as he straightened, struggling gradually to his feet. Legs trembling, he fought with whatever remained of his willpower to endure, thoughts of retreat and tears falling away. A burning anger built in the pit of his stomach, slowly turning to regard The God Emperor with defiance.

Dominax's electricity ceased at once.

As if a thousand knives had been yanked from his body in an instant, the wave of relief that followed nearly returned Arinax to the ground. Head swimming, he fell into his father's arms.

"I once claimed you'd despise me. Go on." Dominax forced the boy to stand once more. "If your hate keeps you alive, so be it. Hate me. I shall endure no further losses of our family, no less of my heir."

Hardly could he talk without the urge to weep returning. Instead, Arinax stood unsteadily, doing all he could to conceal his weakness.

"Your mother would see you coddled, yet of what use would your comfort be when the blades of our enemies seek your throat? Of what use would your weakness be to the rest of House Vaid when I lay dead, and you stand before chaos?" Dominax shook his head in disgust.

Arinax built his strength to utter a single question. "When... will it end, father?"

"When I may find my rest, knowing my legacy is guarded by capable hands. When I may seize the end I seek, my vision fulfilled, passing my sword into your grasp." Dominax frowned, though eased. "You're far from the Arinax I require, though today, you did well."

The prince watched his father approach the tent's flap as if expecting visitors. A call came a moment later, confirming his thoughts.

"Your holiness! We bring news!"

A commanding hand gestured for the boy to approach before Dominax stepped outside. "Speak it."

The trio of legionaries waiting outside bowing to meet them. The first spoke, evidently in command. "Envoys from Praith seek an audience, your majesty."

"Ah, then they come to speak of their surrender." A smirk crept onto Dominax's lips. "Summon my advisors." He then peered down at Arinax. "Return to your mother."

More than eager to do just that, the prince scurried away quickly as The God Emperor marched to meet their enemies.

***

A finger traced up the soft thigh of the princess. For the countless time that night, Anthara heard Vixin moan, yet never did she tire of the sound.

Lalian had long since recovered from his latest finish when he found his way between Vixin's legs once more, kneeling, watching his mate tease their shared lover. No sooner than when her hand moved did he push his hips forward, whimpering in pleasure as he slid inside the princess once more.

Anthara savored the sight, her hand playing idly between her own legs as she watched. When the other caressed her belly, her pleasure soured. "A son." Hours later, the thought still echoed in her head.

"La... Lalian..." Vixin chuckled, silver eyes sensually meeting her green lover as she took his hands. "You've already had your fill. Now..." She rolled over, forcefully maneuvering him beneath her with more strength than he expected from her slender, alluring form. "Now it's my turn."

No complaint came forth but for a whine of ecstasy as she began to ride his small manhood, her royal loins hungry and tight.

Anthara laughed in amusement, two fingers pushing into her own tightness. "Careful, princess. He's... ahh... mine to break."

Blissfully lost in the euphoria of Vixin's divine body, Lalian hardly fought back, surrendering to his new goddess. Vixin, however, glanced at the female beside her.

"A son," the thought replayed, in the distance now. The city through the trees outside dueled for prominence inside her head, seizing her thoughts. She knew the Truthseekers sought to infiltrate Praith after sunset. She knew the morning quickly approached now. Soon they'd learn if the city was The Empire's, or if it'd burn. Both fates tightened her insides.

The green woman's facade of lust hid little from Vixin. She leaned over to whisper into Lalian's ear. "Cum quickly, else your mate may grow jealous. Unleash everything you have inside me. Get. Me. Pregnant."

Her impossible demand was more than Lalian could bear. Hips bucking to meet her loins, he nearly screamed as her tightness demanded his finish, hands holding her thighs tightly as he trembled.

"Good boy," her smooth voice echoed softly in his ear as she caressed his cheek. "Perhaps Kunir's son shall move aside for your child after all."

The words were playful, intending to tease his fantasies, yet as she rose from his waist, a subtle humiliation seeped in as he saw nothing drip from her lower lips. Dominax's seed had oozed heavily from his mate, yet the few drops Lalian could produce were incapable of leaking from Vixin's tightness. "T... thank you..." Despite his pleasure, he managed to remain conscious after his latest orgasm, if only just.

Vixin settled between the Lanthians on her back, guiding Anthara closer. "It seems my distractions have begun to falter."

"No," she barked a denial, only to sigh. "Your kindness is noted, princess, yet the hour of Praith's fall approaches."

Nodding in understanding, Vixin closed her eyes. "I can sense my sister. She's alive thus far, if you fear my father's wrath. Praith won't burn yet."

The words were a small comfort.

They rested together quietly upon the drenched bed, the sweet scent of their pleasure lingering inside the tent. Finally, when her curiosity got the better of her, Vixin broke the silence. "May I ask you something?" After a nod, Vixin's brow furrowed in thought. "The tales claim all fertile Lanthian females are impregnated by The Priarch of each city. If you were born in Praith, does that make this Priarch your..."

The polite caution of the princess made Anthara chuckle, a small relief she found charming. "My father? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I've heard no word of Praith's Priarch falling to a usurper since my birth."

"The likelihood is somewhat high, princess," Lalian added, recovering from his climax. "Taking into account that eggs are occasionally swapped between cities, it's-"

"The man likely sired me, yes," Anthara interrupted, in no mood to hear his rambling once more. As if in apology, she reached over to take his hand lovingly.

Vixin offered a look of compassion. "Does that hold a place in your guilt? The downfall of your father?"

Anthara shook her head easily. "Not in the slightest. A Priarch's duty is to give his worthy seed to fertile wombs. If he squirted me inside the woman that birthed me, what of it?" She permitted herself to chuckle, trying to forget the weight crushing her shoulders. "You humans have a... peculiar affection for your mothers and fathers. A Lanthian may feel pride at being sired by a strong male, yet I've witnessed daughters in Domani caring for the weakest of men, when by all means they should flee to avoid the shame of their source."

Lalian's grip tightened.

Realizing her words, Anthara caressed her belly. "Of course, strength isn't a man's only worth."

Vixin opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the shout of a legionary outside. "Grand Imperial Architect Lalian, The God Emperor summons your presence at once!"

"To... to what end?" he called back, more than happy to continue lounging beside two beauties, perhaps for the rest of his existence if possible.

"Envoys of Praith have arrived!"

Feeling her heart quicken, Anthara's hand didn't release her mate until he yanked away to collect his cloak and tunic. Praith had fallen.

Vixin gave her an apologetic glance as she too began to dress. "Aren't you coming? I'm sure father expects you to accompany Lalian."

"No." Anthara shook her head. "No. You go. I'll be fine."

"My love, this is a momentous day in the history of The Empire." Lalian tried to rouse her. "Please, you'll feel much better when you stand in the streets of Praith once more and see it unharmed, unburned, and unbloodied."

The thought was revolting, too great to bear. "I can't face the population. If a single living soul recognizes me standing among their conquerors as they fall, I'll..." She shook her head, not daring to finish the thought.

Vixin stepped closer. "Anthara..."

"Forgive me, princess." She retreated to sit against the headboard, clutching at her pregnancy. "When the city is firmly under the legion's control, I'll come. I'll bear my shame. Not now. Please, go on. I'll be alright here."

Hesitant to leave, yet seeing no compromise in his mate's gaze, Lalian granted her a kiss. "If you insist. I'll tell you all of what occurs upon my return."

Departing, Lalian and Vixin strode quickly through the camp, receiving curious glances from anyone who heard hints of the commotion emanating from The Grand Imperial Architect's tent. Vixin enjoyed their attention, her hips swaying to draw their eyes, smirking as if to confirm their suspicions, while Lalian blushed, unable to keep a smile from his lips. They knew a princess had shared his bed. His bed.

They were greeted by the sight of a crowd when they arrived, guided by the legionary tasked with retrieving the green advisor. The legion parted to make way, and Lalian nearly froze the moment he laid eyes upon the trio of Lanthian warriors waiting just outside the camp. Dressed in loincloths of gold, their gilded spears stood ready.

"The one in command seems to speak our tongue," Salduin's voice came from ahead. Turning, Lalian noticed Clin and Cendra beside the large man. When Salduin looked the green man up and down, glancing at Vixin, his brow raised. "Sleep well?"

"I..." Blushing anew, Lalian sought to regain his tongue before he was mercifully saved by the arrival of Dominax.

Marching through the crowd, The God Emperor met the trio with his hand upon the hilt of his sword as his advisors followed behind. "Ah, The Miarch has discovered my message, it seems. It'd be a far simpler matter if she came herself."

The first Lanthian stepped forward with a scowl of disgust. "The Miarch has indeed noticed your dishonorable schemes."

"It's customary to bow before The God Emperor," Salduin added in a tone neither spiteful nor polite.

"We bow to no one."

Dominax's smirk remained, yet his silver eyes narrowed. "Your part in this is useful to me, thus I'll forgive your disrespect for the moment. Besides, you'll bow when the rest of Praith kneels before the end of this day."

Sneering, the woman's grip tightened upon her spear. "The Miarch shall permit you to enter the city to stand before her throne. Alone."

"Stand before her throne," he repeated, as if to himself. Of course, he had a 'scheme' prepared for that as well. "Your Miarch doesn't seem to understand the dynamic. Her neck rests within my grip. I shall march into Praith with the full force of my legion, and she shall do nothing but sit and watch."

The trio could offer no counter but their hate.

"Good." Dominax turned to regard the legion. "Ascend."

***

Ropes, ladders, and ladders made of rope dangled from the branches as armored men and women carefully made their way up the trees supporting Praith. As the Lanthian warriors did little but watch from afar, spears ready, Cendra couldn't help but imagine the horror of making the ascent while under attack from the countless winged women scattered among the branches. Even now she felt vulnerable beneath their ire, one of the last to ascend after assisting Clin, Salduin, and Irith in coordinating the long climb.

Lalian and Vixin followed behind, held back by Dominax's command until the legion had entirely secured the city. As the green man pulled himself up a final ladder, he felt his throat tighten at the sight of the city, stepping onto the walkways of a Lanthian city for the first time in over two decades. Memories rushed to meet him. Though born in a different city in a different kingdom, the familiar architecture was enough to send a quiver through his legs.

"Steady, Lalian. We come as conquerors, not slaves," Vixin said at his side. With a gentle hand she led him along.

They passed the wooden dwellings of countless citizens as they followed the walkway. Green eyes peered at them from windows, while human legionaries marched along bridges and pathways. Their fluttering white cloaks were a comfort, holding back the population as Lalian did his best to ignore the disgust of the women and glances of awe from the slaves.

"We're certainly far from home," Cendra muttered to herself as she marched at Vixin's side.

When they reached the wide platform near the center of the city, circular and open to the jungle air, they were met with the sight of Praith's ancient double throne. Having been carved from the stump of a rare tree no larger than one within Vaidrin's rainforest, it appeared to be anchored to the platform with winding roots. Two seats had been carved into the wooden throne, The Miarch's on top, and The Priarch's at her feet. The Lanthian leaders remained seated as the royal advisors approached, offering gazes of deadly defiance.

Lalian stepped forth first, clearing his throat as he spoke in his native tongue. "I am The Grand Imperial-"

"You are a slave, and a slave shall never dare to address a mistress without permission," The Miarch shot back in the imperial language. The gold of her ornate headdress shimmered in the sunlight. "The human tongue is a fowl one, yet only a fool would neglect to learn the language of their closest foe. Now, you may speak to your Miarch Evari, and speak plainly."

Cheeks darkening, Lalian scowled. "As I was saying, I am The Grand Imperial Architect Lalian, advisor to God Emperor Dominax of House Vaid. His majesty wishes to-"

"Why has your master sent a slave in his place? Is he a coward? Does he seek to insult us with your presence?" she interrupted once more. The Priarch merely studied the group in silence, green eyes alert and ready.

"I am a slave no longer," Lalian nearly spat. Countless memories of his past torment prodded at his mind, as if reliving their cruelty.

Clin stepped forth to place a calming hand on Lalian's chest, holding the green man back. "The God Emperor shall join us shortly."

Behind, they heard the booming of distant drums gradually approaching. Vixin remembered her father's lesson. "Appearances."

The legion knelt in preparation for their God Emperor's arrival. Miarch Evari's scowl faintly eased, too proud to reveal a hint of her fear. In the distance, they saw an object moving along the pathways, approaching the platform. As it grew closer, they saw the form of a throne carried by a dozen slaves on either side being brought forth, Dominax sitting atop it.

Made of carved stone, it was far from the elegance and majesty of the golden throne of Domani. It was a tall, harsh thing of sharp angles. The God Emperor loomed above all he passed, carried forth across the main bridge to the platform. Wooden planks strained beneath the weight of stone, much like the slaves themselves as they hauled it into place. When at last they lowered it to the ground, across from The Miarch and Priarch, the slaves knelt obediently, and Knights of The Privictis Order marched to flank their ruler. The God Emperor had brought a throne of his own.

The sun had long risen to illuminate the city, yet Dominax cared little for the extra two hours that had been required to hoist the throne from the ground far below. The Lanthians thought them inferior, thus he'd meet them on their own level. The Lanthians prided themselves on their domination, thus he presented slaves of his own. Leaning back in his throne, he steepled his fingers. "Speak."

Momentarily baffled by the sight before her, Miarch Evari's scowl returned only when she was ready to face her conqueror. "This is the human that has caused such a stir to our north, then?"

"This is the human that brought all of humanity into his grasp." Dominax's silver eyes glowed in the faint daylight of the morning. "Now my gaze falls to you."

The Priarch straitened, yet The Miarch continued to speak. "So your demands made clear."

Glancing at the surrounding crowd, he saw legionaries surrounding clusters of Lanthian warriors, every weapon drawn and ready to fight at a single command. Truthseekers watched in the distance, ready to signal to Hesin's group inside the chamber at a word from their ruler. "I am not an unreasonable man. Your people shall be treated fairly upon your surrender, for they'll become mine."

A war placed across Evari's face, visible through the veil of golden beads beneath her eyes, cascading over her mouth. "Do you expect me to abandon my city to its doom so easily?"

"The only doom that'll find Praith shall be if you resist. The bodies inside your holy tomb shall be destroyed at a single gesture from my hand. Your warriors may fight, yet my legion has spread throughout the city. A battle would bring the end of everything you know," Dominax explained, his booming voice offering no mercy. "My advisor informs me that Miarchs are selected for their wisdom. Tell me, do you see the wisdom in forcing the destruction of your population?"

Evari peered at the many faces surrounding them, enemy and ally alike. "A rare few of our scouts speak your tongue. Our words are safe from the rest. You hold us at the tip of your blade, yet before I'll surrender, I must know you speak the truth. Swear the population shall go unharmed."

Dominax nodded. "I have no desire to slay useful citizens needlessly."

The Miarch tapped the armrest of her throne, feeling the ancient wood that had served generations of her predecessors as she bit her lip. "You leave me with little choice. We'll bow. We are but a single city, however, and you shall soon feel the teeth of The Lanthian Empire in full at your throat when they come to liberate us."

"No," The Priarch finally cut in, standing. "No. I won't bow."

"Alinan!" Evari snapped at him. "Know your place!"

The large Lanthian turned to her, the only male with unbound wings. "I've served this city. I've protected and defended it for over thirty years. We don't know this man, this... stranger. What good is his promise?"

The words came in the imperial tongue, ensuring Dominax received them in full. Displeasure curled his lips. "There is no choice but to trust in my mercy. Bow, or I'll make you kneel."

Priarch Alinan regarded their conqueror with fierce green eyes. Old scars decorated much of his chest and back, echoes of past challengers for his throne. "I won't bow. These are my people, my responsibility, my children. Your word isn't good enough."

"Alinan..." Fury filled Evari's tone.

His back remained to her. "I've served several Miarchs. I've served the population. I've kept Praith safe." He switched to his native tongue as his booming voice shouted to the crowds. "Will you not stand with me? Will you not fight? Will you merely cower and hope for the mercy of our enemy?"

"You seek to doom your children," Dominax's own booming voice echoed in reply when Lalian whispered a translation.

"We've heard tales of your conquest. We've watched you stomp kingdom after kingdom beneath your boot. I'd rather see the city I've protected stand up and fight, rather than kneel," Alinan said, returning to the imperial tongue. When the warriors stood in hesitation, surrounded on all sides by humans, they looked to their Miarch for guidance. Evari gave an agonized shake of her head, killing their hope. Alone, Alinan could nearly chuckle at his predicament. "So be it." He snatched a golden spear from one of the Lanthian guards beside his throne. "Let them kneel, yet I never will. I challenge you, man to man! May the weakest of us perish tonight and may the other stand in victory!"

Spear pointing at Dominax, The God Emperor commanded his guards to stand back as they rushed to defend their ruler. Intrigued, he stood. "Ah, yes, let us see what the best of Praith is capable of. Let us watch the final desperate resistance of this city shatter."

"My love, this is unwise," Irith warned, though she was dismissed with a glance.

Watching The God Emperor take slow, methodical steps down his throne, Alinan readied his weapon. "You may claim the city if I fall. When you fall, I expect your legions to depart. That is a vow I'll simply have to trust from you."

"Agreed." Dominax unsheathed his sword. A great fire blazed from the blade, only to extinguish. "I shall meet you fairly, skill against skill, until you're broken. No tricks. No power. As you said, man to man."

Nodding, Alinan rushed forward. His spear pierced empty air as Dominax stepped out of the way. A blow from the sword reverberated up the golden shaft.

Weapons clashing, Dominax remembered Chief Manith wielding his spear all those years ago as Nitri was slaughtered. Alinan was older, fighting for a cause rather than himself, yet his powerful wings were an image all too familiar. "A Lanthian was the beginning of this path. A Lanthian won't be its end."

A strong man, The Priarch fought fiercely, yet age had slowed his speed. He could hardly match Dominax's strikes, for though Dominax's hair had long turned to silver, he moved with the vitality of a man half his age. No electricity flowed from his fingertips, though he could do little to cease the gifts of his blood driving his powerful body.

"High-Chiefs and kings have stood against me. I ripped King Olvir from his throne. I seized Spirexia in my grasp. I held King Siril's severed head before the gates of Visti. You. Will. Not. Stop. Me." Dominax rammed the hilt of his sword into The Priarch's stomach, sending him down. "Yield."

"I'll never stay down!" Alinan roared, driving his blade upward as he rose.

Dominax grabbed the shaft of his foe's weapon, his hilt smashing into the Lanthian's face, shattering his nose. Once more he fell. Once more The God Emperor loomed. "You fight with conviction. Even alone, you continue to rise."

Struggling to his feet, caring little for the dark green blood trickling down his face, Alinan swung his spear. "I'll fight to my last breath!"

Impressed, Dominax redirected the blow and cut across the man's chest, a deep wound, though survivable. "Yield. I require worthy beings beneath my throne. If you would turn this conviction of yours to my own uses-"

Alinan roared, the tip of his spear narrowly missing Dominax's neck. A powerful fist sent the mighty Priarch to his knees.

"Stay down. Pledge yourself to me, and I shall grant you a cause worth fighting for!" Dominax demanded.

Looking at the crowds of the population, Alinan knew there was a single chance to protect them, to stand against their conqueror. "I'll never... stay down!" Fighting to rise, he used whatever strength remained to him, his wound gushing, praying silently for the human to keep his word. He needed a single lucky strike to end the conquest, to save his city.

His lucky strike never came. Dominax's sword cut across Alinan's forearm, sending the spear tumbling to the ground from nerveless fingers. "Yield. Kneel before me, and I shall name you The High Lord of Praith when I'm finished with this city."

Alinan merely bent over, taking the spear in his other hand with a wince of agony. Once more he peered at the crowd. Once more he knew their fate rested in his grip. "Never."

The spear hurled through the air, yet Dominax merely stepped aside. A hand rushed to grab the Lanthian's throat, lifting the large man from his feet. "So be it," he said with a scowl of disappointment. Only then did electricity pour from his fingertips.

A thin trail of smoke lifted from Alinan's skin as his life slipped away, a light twitch continuing to move his muscles long after Dominax discarded him to the floor. The God Emperor regarded the fallen warrior, reaching down to close his dead eyes. "A shame."

The city erupted into shouts in the Lanthian tongue, furious, horrified, yet held back by the blades of the legion.

"Alinan, you fool..." Evari muttered to herself as Dominax approached. Reluctantly, she stood and made way for their conqueror, offering a spiteful bow. "Praith is yours. May you share Alinan's agony when The Grand Miarch flies to save us."

Dominax took his place upon the wooden throne as The Priarch lay dead in the center of the platform.

"Come. I shall escort you to-" Lalian began to say, reaching to take her by the arm. She slapped his hand aside, spitting into his face.

"Don't you dare touch me, slave!" Evari stepped back. "I've endured enough shame today!"

Wiping the spite from his eye, Lalian felt his blood beginning to boil, disrespected for the last time. Every past humiliation came to the surface. Every torture, every cruelty by Lanthian hands came forth. Yet as he forgot himself, raising a hand with bared teeth, Dominax's booming voice saved him.

"The man you name a slave has enjoyed greater power than you shall ever know. The man before you shall be immortalized throughout history as crucial to The Empire's rise. You'll be remembered as the first Miarch to crumble," Dominax said, watching Lalian's hand freeze. He gestured for the woman to approach. "If you'd lower my advisor to a mere slave, I'll bring you down as well. Come. Bowing is no longer sufficient."

A hint of fear filled her hateful eyes, her fate no longer ensured. Stepping closer, Dominax beckoned her further and further. When she stood mere inches from her conqueror, he pointed to the floor.

"Kneel."

A threat hung in his strange, silver gaze. Daring not to test him, she lowered herself to her knees. When he gestured for her to lower further, she offered a baffled expression.

"You spit upon a worthy being in my favor, thus you spit upon my throne itself. That cannot be allowed." Dominax gestured once more, his gaze offering no mercy. "Kiss my feet."

"No..." she said without thinking, only to panic as his brow lifted. Gritting her teeth, she moved aside her vail before begrudgingly pressing her lips to his boot, knowing the population watched her shame.

"An unconvincing gesture. I still sense your disgust for my advisor. If you cannot respect my Grand Imperial Architect, you cannot respect my throne." He parted the groin slit of his one-suit. "Kiss me elsewhere to seal your new loyalty."

Watching his manhood emerge, eyes widening in horror, Evari remained on her knees as she pleaded. "No... I shall never disrespect your advisor again, my... God Emperor..."

"Prove your words." He beckoned her closer. "You've surrendered your city. Now, surrender your lips, else I'll have to doubt your loyalty."

Lalian watched the woman squirm, feeling his ire ease. "A... a fitting punishment."

Wondering if death was preferable to her humiliation, Evari reluctantly moved forward. When her lips met his shaft, she closed her eyes, enduring her shame as the city watched.

"You would've walked from here a free woman," Dominax reminded her, guiding her lips to engulf his cock. She struggled to endure his size, gaging, eyes opening to offer a silent hatred for her new ruler. "I'd have taken your head on any other day for daring to spit upon an official of The Empire, yet today, your punishment is more useful than your death."

Vixin watched the woman's head as it bobbed up and down in her father's lap. When she caught Cendra blushing at the sight, her sister merely looked away.

"Let Praith witness your defeat. Let your shame spread throughout the city," Dominax said, savoring her mouth. "The sight of their former leader shall break them, and just so, for none should resist my Eternal Peace."

Grimacing, Cendra was surprised when Vixin eased closer to her side. Her embarrassment slowly dimmed, seeing her sister's subtle smile, as if offering a treaty of peace. She accepted it without a word, standing together as they watched their father's pleasure.

"My advisor came to me, mutilated, sterile. Though you were not the one to cut him yourself, you've castrated many others. Perhaps it's a fitting punishment that you repay your treatment of him with your womb." Dominax ran a finger through the beads of her vail with a sinister smile.

Horrified, she pulled back, touching her throat as she recovered from his intrusion. "Surely you don't mean to..."

Watching her peer back at Lalian, Dominax chuckled. "He can do little with your womb. You know that better than anyone. Yet since you've disrespected my throne, I shall avenge him with my own seed."

Hearing the crowds all around, her eyes begged. "Mercy... God Emperor..."

"Mercy indeed. Come." A commanding hand offered no debate. The other rested upon the hilt of his sword, a second choice. "Repay your crime by granting me another citizen."

Fury filling her gaze, dueling with her trembling shame, she rose to meet him. Reluctantly straddling his lap, she eyed the blade a final time, making her decision. Moving aside her loincloth, she said a silent prayer to the goddess as his tip pressed against her lower lips.

Silver stared into green eyes as he pushed inside, forever claiming her. Hatred poured from her gaze, seething, feeling him gliding deep as she uttered a soft whine.

Holding her hips, he savored the sensation of her loins as he reached her limit, watching subtle pain dance in her expression as she fought to endure his size. Her body was no stranger to the touch of a man, her womb having been claimed by The Priarch twice before, he sensed, yet her experience did little to loosen her tight embrace.

Lalian watched her wings flutter involuntarily, taking silent enjoyment in the sight. For a single moment, with a single mistress among countless others, he tasted a small hint of justice.

Murderous rage filled her gaze, wincing each time Dominax pushed inside. Despite being on top, he held control, rocking his hips beneath her. Parted thighs could do nothing to save her. Only her rage held back her shame, hearing the cheers of humans and the whispering of Lanthians.

Grinding his cock inside her, Dominax chuckled. Once more he'd breed a Lanthian, thinking of Anthara's pregnant swell. His instincts urged him to cum, to claim her womb, delighted in every strange detail of her body. Wings fluttered. Green skin felt soft beneath his touch, exploring her curves despite her rage. His seed stood ready to impregnate the exotic female in his lap, forcefully guiding her hips with his powerful hands.

The smallest hint of a moan escaped her rage, little more than a strained breath. He dueled with her hatred, coaxing her body's needs until it begged for his baby.

Studying the crowd, he watched the citizens despair, some peering down, others watching in shock. He defeated the city with every thrust, their holy matriarch surrendering to his cock.

Irith felt a dampness growing between her thighs as she watched, feeling her cheeks darken. Salduin and Clin exchanged glances, one finding the punishment just, the other holding back his doubts.

Cendra watched her Knights, sensing their arousal and curiosity. They knew their source. They knew who had sired them. As they watched their true father breed, she felt hints of lust from her illegitimate sisters, while her brothers focused upon the bodies of the population all around, hardly concealed.

Dominax groaned in triumph, imagining Evari's belly swelling with his child. Like Anthara, she'd grant him an egg, slowly growing inside her womb.

The former Miarch could hardly endure another moment. Lips parted in heavy breaths, his skill all that stood between her and consuming humiliation, she almost felt the eyes of her former citizens burning into her skin. She had failed them, outmaneuvered by a human.

"Take pride... ahh... in your bloodless defeat," Dominax began, watching her vail jiggle with every movement of her body. "The rest of your former empire... ahh... shall not be so lucky..."

Once more Cendra turned away when Vixin caught her eyes. She heard her sister whisper. "We've both shared him, Cendra. Of what use is shame here?"

Though at first, she thought her sister was teasing her, she saw the serious sincerity in her eyes. Finally, she eased her prideful stance. "Fair point." They stood together, watching the woman rock in their father's lap with every commanding movement of his hands and hips.

Finally, when she was certain she'd perish from shame, Evari gasped as he pulled her close, her breath catching in her throat as his cock pushed painfully deep. His rumbling roar was followed by a warmth pouring inside her, making her yelp as she felt him cumming deep into her fertile body. Despite her hate, despite her fury, despite her humiliation, her body could endure no more, seizing at the sensation of being claimed. Her headdress tilted as her head fell back, trembling as she was forced into a climax she despised.

Spewing everything he could muster, Dominax was enthralled by the pleasure of breeding a Lanthian womb. His fingers dug into her rump as his seed began to ooze from her loins, spilling heavily onto the ancient wood of Praith's throne. Countless Miarchs and Priarch had ruled here together, always a pair, yet now their revered seat was stained with the seed of their conqueror and the shame of their last successor.