The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Azriel sat with his back against the marble headboard, legs spread, one knee bent, entirely at ease in the way that only comes after genuine, thorough exhaustion has been transmuted into something warmer.

The bioluminescent fungi cast their shifting green light across the bed, across him, across the white-haired woman kneeling between his thighs.

Vesperia’s head was bowed over his lap, her movements slow and meticulous, cleaning his dick with her tongue with the focused, unhurried attention she brought to everything she decided was worth doing properly.

Slick. Mm. Slick.

His left hand rested in her hair, his fingers combing absently through the silver-white strands with the idle affection of someone who has stopped pretending they don’t want to touch.

His right hand held her runepad, the faint hum of its enchanted glass warm against his fingers.

The gallery was open, and he slowly swiped through the crystal-clear captures from their second round.

Seeing the fierce, untouchable matriarch stripped of her pride, flushed and completely undone, an instinct had driven him to capture it.

The broadcast recorded everything, sure, but the stream feed was locked behind cosmic interfaces she could never access.

He wanted her to see it with her own eyes, to witness just how intoxicating, vulnerable, and thoroughly conquered she looked under his touch.

Naturally, he had avoided taking them on his personal runepad.

That device had been gifted to him directly by Rosalind, and given the Duchess’s possessive instincts and protective nature, she almost certainly maintained access to its internal feeds and tracking runes.

Instead, he had used Vesperia’s own runepad for the captures.

He had no intention of keeping this secret buried forever.

Sooner or later, he would bring the truth to light, and ultimately claim them both, bringing mother and daughter together on the same bed.

He scrolled through them slowly, the light of the runepad painting his face in soft colour in the dim chamber.

The first capture was Vesperia framed in that sheer black lace, snapped the exact second her heavy leather armor had dropped to the furs.

Her pale skin was flushed, eyes wide with a mix of fierce defiance and sudden vulnerability as the realization set in that her defenses were gone.

She had been standing at the edge of the furs, her white hair loose and falling past her shoulders, the black lace a suggestion against the pale of her skin, her golden eyes catching the bioluminescent light with a warmth that had nothing sovereign in it.

In the image, she had turned her face slightly away from the lens, a rare, flustered, shy expression which made him smile as he looked at the woman bobbing her head up and down between his legs.

The next was a selfie of them, his hand at her throat.

Her head tilted back against his shoulder, the long line of her neck exposed, her golden eyes heavy-lidded and hazy with a wanting she had stopped trying to moderate.

Her tongue out of her parted lips.

The flush across her cheekbones.

The particular expression of someone very powerful who has chosen, deliberately and consciously, to be somewhere other than in charge.

The next several he scrolled through with a warmth moving through his chest that he did not bother to examine, Vesperia from behind, her spine arched, her white thick braid gripped in his fist, her massive curves catching the dim light.

Another of her looking back over her shoulder at him with those golden eyes blown dark and her tail coiled and her expression one of complete, unguarded wanting.

And the last one, her throat full of him, her eyes watering and luminous and directed straight up at his face with an expression of devotion so total and unambiguous it had stopped his breath when he first saw it and was doing the same thing now.

He switched the screen off.

Stood in the quiet chamber for a moment, aware of his own heartbeat.

Then he turned.

Vesperia stood a few feet away, her eyes closed in concentration, her hands moving through a series of slow, deliberate gestures that trailed faint traces of golden aether.

The energy moved around them both in quiet waves, gathering, neutralising, dispersing.

She was methodical about it, working from her own skin outward, then turning the same careful attention toward him, the aether trailing across the space between them like a search.

Removing every trace.

His scent from her skin.

Her scent from his.

The particular, layered evidence of hours that would be immediately, catastrophically apparent to a woman with Rosalind’s cultivation and her mother’s instincts for concealment, which meant, presumably, very good instincts indeed.

Azriel stood still and let her work.

He watched her face while she did it, the focused line of her brow, the slight movement of her lips as she tracked the aether’s progress, the occasional flicker of her golden eyes behind closed lids. She was precise about this the way she was precise about everything that mattered to her.

Leaving nothing to chance.

When she finished, she opened her eyes.

They looked at each other across the few feet of chamber between them.

"Done," she said.

Her voice was composed, her posture exactly what it had been when he had first encountered her ,sovereign, collected, entirely in command of her circumstances.

Except for her eyes, which were warm in a way they had not been before tonight and were apparently not planning to stop being.

She glanced toward the passage that led deeper into the hollow.

"Collect the reward before we leave. It would be a waste to walk away empty-handed."

"Good. Now go claim your prize before the instance resets," she said, nodding toward the boiling lake.

"Unlike wild field beasts, the core boss of an instance dungeon is tied directly to the spatial ley lines. Touch the carcass, and the dungeon will process the spoils automatically."

Azriel stepped across the remaining basalt pillars toward the island where the massive twenty-ton carcass of the Caustic Mire-Toad lay smoking.

Reaching down, he placed his palm against the beast’s rubbery, dissolved brow.

SHUUUUU—!

The body came apart in ribbons of shimmering light, pale green and black, fragmenting upward and outward like something returning to where it had come from.

[INSTANCE BOSS REWARDS CLAIMED!]

[Loot Acquired:]

Miasmic Core of the Mire (D-Rank Dungeon Core) x1

Skill Orb: [Acidic Plume (Lv. 1)] x1

Flawless Corrosive Membrane x4

Calified Toad Horns x2

Mire-Walker’s Ring (D-Rank Accessory) x1

Caustic Bone-Dagger (E-Rank Artifact Weapon) x1

Amulet of the Deep Croak (E-Rank Artifact Pendant) x1

The cavern began to shudder violently as the bioluminescent moss flickered and died, the spatial anchors unravelling with a low, resonant groan as the dungeon registered its total collapse.

Azriel turned on his heel, vaulting across the sinking basalt pillars to land cleanly on the dry ledge beside Vesperia.

With a smooth flick of her wrist, the marble bed dissolved into silver light and vanished back into her spatial ring.

A heavy, familiar tug of spatial distortion gripped them both.

The subterranean gloom twisted, compressed, and folded inward before vanishing entirely.

In a sharp flash of light, they materialized back into the crisp, biting chill of the upper world.

They stood in the secluded mountain valley where they had first entered the breach.

Towering jagged cliffs hemmed them in on all sides, their sheer, knife-edge peaks swallowed by dense banks of drifting grey mist.

Vesperia exhaled a breath of cold air, turning to Azriel with a softened, lingering smile.

"Let’s head—"

She cut herself off.

Her golden slit pupils shrank to pinpricks.

In an instant, the playful, languid lover vanished, replaced by an ancient predator.

BOOOOOOM—!

A suffocating, mountain-crushing Overlord-tier aura erupted from her body like an invisible shockwave, parting the heavy mists for miles in every direction.

The cataclysmic pressure bent the massive pine trees double, yet with instinctive precision, she shielded Azriel entirely, leaving the air around him calm and untouched.

ARGHHHHHHHH—!

A blood-curdling, agonized shriek tore through the mist from the summit of the highest eastern peak.

Before the sound could even echo across the valley, Vesperia’s fingers locked around Azriel’s wrist.

The world blurred into streaks of shattered light and howling wind as she closed the distance so fast it defied physical acceleration, appearing atop the cliff edge as if she had ripped through space itself.

When Azriel’s boots hit the frozen stone, his eyes instantly locked onto the carnage in the center of the ridge.

Lying in a pooling ring of blackened, curdled blood was a mangled corpse.

The victim’s robes were torn to shreds, their sternum caved in from the inside out, eyes glassy and milky-white.

Even in death, the faint, lingering aether signature radiating from the ruined meridians indicated an Adept-stage cultivator.

Vesperia stepped forward, her golden eyes narrowing with lethal, venomous certainty as she took in the scorched, unnatural runes burned into the corpse’s pale skull.

"Body possession," she muttered coldly.

-x-

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