The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

The moment the blinding flash of spatial light dissolved and left the highway in quiet stillness, the gentle, amused smile on Vesperia’s face vanished completely.

Her warm golden eyes hardened into two shards of polished, unyielding ice.

The cheerful, eccentricity-loving matriarch vanished, replaced by an ancient, terrifying entity whose aura made the surrounding wind fall completely dead.

Without taking a breath, Vesperia took a single step forward.

Space folded beneath her boot like thin parchment, and in the span of a fraction of a millisecond, she materialized a mile down the desolate road, standing directly over the blood-soaked scene of the battle.

She looked down at the mutilated remains with absolute, chilling disgust.

Slowly, Vesperia tapped her heel against the asphalt.

Tink.

A majestic, liquid-silver aether erupted from the point of contact, sweeping outward in a silent, perfectly circular shockwave that instantly expanded across a half-mile radius.

The silver light permeated every blade of grass, every speck of dust, and every lingering strand of residual energy, meticulously reconstructing the spiritual timeline of the ambush.

Vesperia closed her eyes, her mind sifting through the chaotic web of aether signatures.

She tracked Rosalind’s fierce golden aura, Azriel’s distinct lack of energy, and the void-corrupted signatures of the attackers.

Curious, she focused her silver perception deeper, trying to pry open the shattered soul core of the dead Master stage assassins to forcibly extract information.

BOOM!

The corpses of both the master stage assassins instantly detonated into a cloud of volatile, black self-destruct ash.

A fail-safe soul bomb, designed to trigger the moment an entity tried to extract information.

Vesperia didn’t even blink as a thin barrier of silver energy effortlessly deflected the toxic debris.

Her brow furrowed into a deep, icy frown.

Turning her gaze toward the headless corpse of Grandmaster assassins, her silver aether washed over her physical remains, stripping away the scorched black armor layer by layer.

On the nape of the assassin’s neck, etched deep into their pale skin, lay an ominous, dark tattoo.

It was a wide, monolithic eye inked in geometric lines.

The pupil was carved in the distinct shape of an inverted crown, with heavy, jagged fissure lines radiating outward toward the shoulder blades like cracked, dying earth.

Vesperia stared at the mark.

She had lived for centuries, navigated the highest circles of imperial politics, and fought in the continent’s most brutal wars, yet she had never seen this mark before.

It was neither imperial nor belonging to any known noble house in the eastern territories.

With a cold, dismissive flick of her wrist, a spatial vortex opened beside her.

The corpse of the Grandmaster stage assassin was instantly pulled into the storage ring on her finger for closer, isolated study.

She stood silent for a brief moment, her sharp white feline ears twitching as her silver aether swept the surrounding forest one final time, ensuring no hidden observers remained in the dark.

Finding nothing, Vesperia kicked off the ground.

She shot upward into the night sky, her silver aura turning into a silent, blinding streak as she disappeared and appeared back in the House of Bastet.

Thousands of kilometers away from the ancestral domain of the House of Bastet, deep beneath a jagged, forgotten mountain range, lay a subterranean chamber bathed in a sinister, rhythmic crimson glow.

At the far end of the cavern, atop a monolith of dark, polished stone, sat a figure draped from head to toe in a heavy, light-devouring black cloak.

Not a single inch of skin was visible, but the sheer, oppressive weight of her presence caused the surrounding aether to bleed red.

Kneeling on one knee at the base of the dais was a trembling woman clad in assassin’s armor, a powerful GrandMaster in her own right, yet currently quaking in visceral terror.

"So..." a voice echoed from beneath the cloak, soft, velvety, and chillingly calm.

"The operation failed?"

"Y-Yes, High Mother," the kneeling woman stammered, her forehead pressed flat against the cold stone floor.

The figure on the throne let out a slow, quiet sigh that rasped through the silent cavern.

"It was bound to fail," the High Mother murmured, leaning her head back against the stone rest.

"It was merely a probe, a simple test to see if she would yield such a rare vessel without a fight. But I did not anticipate her attachment to run so deep... nor did I expect her to have already mastered the Ancestral Beast Transformation at her age."

The kneeling woman swallowed hard, not daring to lift her head.

"You have served your purpose," the High Mother said softly, waving a gloved hand dismissively.

"You may leave."

A massive wave of relief washed over the kneeling GrandMaster.

"Thank you, High Mother! Thank you—"

She scrambled to her feet and turned to walk toward the exit.

But before she could take her third step, the skin on the back of her neck began to burn with a sickly, violet light.

The dark tattoo inked across her nape, the monolithic eye with its inverted crown pupil, suddenly opened.

The geometric pupil twisted violently, and the jagged fissure lines spread like liquid fire across her shoulder blades.

THWUMP!

Without even a chance to scream, the GrandMaster assassin instantly detonated, her entire body vaporizing into a thick, concentrated mist of crimson blood.

The High Mother gently opened her lips, taking a deep, long breath.

The floating crimson mist condensed into a swirling stream, flowing straight into her mouth as she absorbed the fallen GrandMaster’s vital essence.

As the last drop vanished, two terrifying, blood-red eyes ignited beneath the shadow of her hood, burning like twin dying stars in the dark.

"The time is not ripe yet..." she whispered to the empty chamber.

With a soft flicker of crimson light, her cloaked form dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind only the cold, eerie glow of the subterranean cave.

-x-

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