Slovia walked to the wide bed that dominated the far side of the chamber adjoining her study.

Cum still dripped slowly down the insides of her thighs, a warm trail of Kane’s seed mixed with her own wetness.

She didn’t clean it. She climbed onto the mattress naked, long dark hair spilling across the pillows, and settled onto her back.

One hand, fingers still faintly stained with the red residual glow of spent mana, drifted between her spread legs.

She touched her swollen clit with lazy, deliberate circles, a satisfied sound leaving her throat as the oversensitive flesh twitched under her own touch.

Kane pulled his light trousers back on, then the open linen shirt.

He did not hurry.

The fire had burned down to deep red embers, casting the room in low, shifting shadows.

He fastened the last button and looked at her.

"So what’s your purpose of coming to this empire?" Slovia asked, still circling her clit with those faintly glowing fingertips.

Kane’s gaze dropped to the movement of her hand.

"Stop fingering. It might damage it permanently."

She laughed, low, genuine, the sound of a woman who had just been thoroughly used and still wanted more.

"You don’t have to care about that. Now answer."

He leaned against the post at the foot of the bed, arms loosely crossed, red hair still damp with sweat at the temples.

"The devils are coming."

Slovia’s fingers slowed.

She lifted the two that had been working her clit, brought them to her mouth, and licked them clean with a slow, deliberate drag of her tongue, tasting both herself and him. Her assessing eyes never left his face.

"Devils? And you know it how?"

"I know. The elven seer also knew it. Roughly ninety-eight days."

"Ninety-eight."

She repeated the number, almost tasting it.

"Such a short time. And you need an alliance."

"I need unity," Kane said.

His voice was steady, the same flat certainty he used when discussing supply lines or kill counts.

"I’m planning on joining all the empires under me."

Slovia’s hand stopped completely. She stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

The lazy post-sex haze burned away, replaced by the sharp, calculating focus of a woman who had ruled for decades.

"Under?"

"Yes."

"I’ve no need to work under anyone."

"We can be equals."

"You are serious."

"I am."

"You can’t make beastmen fight alongside elves."

"I will try."

"And if they don’t cooperate?"

"I will kill him."

The words landed without heat, simply fact. Grathak Blood-Hide’s name did not need to be spoken; both of them understood who "him" meant.

"Mm."

Slovia spread her long dark hair across the pillows in a slow, deliberate fan, the silver threads catching the dying firelight.

She looked every inch the powerful, naked empress she was, body marked by what they had done, thighs still glistening, yet posture unbroken.

"I will answer you tomorrow."

Kane nodded once.

He pushed away from the bedpost and turned toward the door.

"You enjoyed it," she said behind him.

He stopped. Did not turn. Did not speak.

"My daughter’s body is weak," Slovia continued, voice softer now, almost thoughtful.

"But you like it rough."

Kane looked back at her over his shoulder.

The firelight cut across the strong lines of his face, the scars, the red hair.

"I had more passion with her."

"And does it help?"

"It does."

He left.

The door closed behind him with a solid, final sound. The corridor outside was cooler, quieter. Kane walked it without looking back, the scent of sex and bitter wine still clinging to his skin.

His body felt heavier and lighter at the same time, spent, marked, and somehow more solid than it had been when he entered the study hours earlier.

The system messages arrived the moment the door sealed, cold and precise inside his mind like text burned onto the inside of his skull.

[You’ve successfully seeded inside empress]

[Your Body levelled up]

[Unification of empire Progress: 35%]

[Arrival of the devils: 97 days]

Kane’s stride did not falter.

He absorbed the notifications the same way he absorbed battlefield reports: file, assess, continue.

The body level-up registered as a low, rolling heat through his muscles and bones, a quiet strengthening that settled into his limbs without fanfare.

Thirty-five percent.

Better than zero.

The countdown had already ticked down by one day while he was inside the queen.

Ninety-seven left.

He did not return immediately to the chamber where Misha slept.

Instead, he took the longer route through the quieter halls, past darkened tapestries and the occasional night guard who straightened at the sight of the red-haired barbarian walking shirt open and expression unreadable.

The keep felt different now.

Not because the stones had changed, but because the political weight inside them had shifted. He had taken the empress.

He had left his seed in her.

And in exchange he had placed the first real stake in the ground toward the unification he needed before the devils arrived.

Misha’s words from that morning still sat clear in his mind.

Plan properly. Take your time. If she really pushes it, then do it.

And come back to me.

He had done exactly that.

When he finally reached their chamber, Thora and Sira were still at their posts.

Both women looked him over once, Thora’s dark eyes sharp, Sira’s pale gaze lingering a fraction longer on the marks that were not quite bruises at his wrists where the mana restraints had held him.

Neither spoke. Kane nodded once and entered.

Misha was asleep on her side, golden eyes closed, one hand curled loosely near her face.

The furs had slipped low enough to show the soft line of her shoulder. Kane stripped the rest of his clothes in silence, washed quickly at the basin with cold water, and slid into the bed behind her.

She stirred only when his arm settled around her waist, drawing her back against his chest.

"You’re back," she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

"I’m back."

She did not ask for details. She pressed closer, accepting the residual heat of his body and the faint, unavoidable scent of her mother that still clung to him no matter how thoroughly he had washed.

Kane rested his forehead against the back of her head and closed his eyes.

"It’s done."

"I know."

"Did she accept the proposal?"

"She will."

"What’s next?"

"We train harder."

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