The Golden Lord has a perverted SSS-rank summoning system!

"Nghnnn~ Aghnnn~~ Oghnnn~ E-Ethan~ L-Lord E-Ethan~"

The sweet, obscene moans of the elven noble echoed through the room as she rode Ethan’s cock, her hips slamming down hard, her movements growing increasingly frantic and desperate.

They were no longer on the couch.

Sunset was approaching, bathing the bedroom in a warm orange light that danced across their sweaty skin, wrapping every curve of the elf’s body in an almost divine glow.

On the large, luxurious bed covered in white sheets, Ethan lay on his back, his hands folded behind his head.

Above him, Faelith straddled his hips, wearing nothing but that white miniskirt and the tiny top of the same immaculate color.

The thin fabric of the top was already completely soaked with sweat, clinging to her skin along every curve, transparent enough to reveal her puffy nipples pressing firmly against it.

Her full breasts bounced uncontrollably with each downward slam, springing upward toward her chin before plummeting back down.

She had long since lost track of time, but seeing the sun sinking on the horizon, she knew at least five hours had passed since the start of that session.

Faelith clenched her teeth, her delicate hands pressed against Ethan’s firm chest for support, while loud, wet slaps filled the room—the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh mingling with her own muffled moans.

Her plump ass crashed down against his thighs with every thrust, the soft cheeks flattening under the impact before rebounding into their full, round shape.

Suddenly, her green eyes flew wide, her entire body seizing in uncontrollable spasms.

The velvety walls of her pussy clamped tightly around Ethan’s cock, squeezing every inch with desperate, milking hunger, before finally giving way.

Her body slumped forward, drained of all strength, collapsing onto Ethan’s warm chest, her heavy breasts crushing softly against his torso.

She reached her climax at the exact moment Ethan erupted deep inside her pussy, thick, hot spurts of cum flooding her insides, filling every corner until there was no room left for anything more.

The excess seeped out in thick white strands from where their bodies joined, trickling slowly down the elf’s trembling thighs and staining the immaculate sheets beneath them.

"I can’t take it anymore, my Lord... have mercy~" Faelith murmured in a hoarse voice, resting her head against Ethan’s chest, her eyes fluttering shut from sheer exhaustion.

In her entire long life, it had been quite a while since the last time she’d been drained like that.

That human cock was truly incomparable.

Ethan laughed softly at her words, shaking his head as he mentally designated Faelith as his concubine.

That earned him ten more premium gacha tickets, bringing the total to four hundred and fifty.

Not only was he even closer to obtaining a fifth item from the gacha system, but he had also gained the support of a fourth-stage specialist and at least three thousand highly trained elven soldiers off the battlefield.

He already had a fairly clear picture of his enemies’ movements, especially after the communication tower had been set up.

Several scouts patrolled the region, updating the situation in Fallenwinter every few hours, and one of them was currently infiltrated directly among the enemy soldiers.

With that communication tower, Ethan knew their every move at all times.

He was also aware of the greenskins’ movements, with dozens of tribes of goblins, orcs, and kobolds gathering.

He was almost certain that, at some point in the future, the system would generate a mission for him regarding this.

Ethan ran a hand through the elf’s blond hair resting on his chest, stroking it tenderly, letting the silky strands slip through his fingers.

Faelith cast a few spells on herself and, with her mind a little clearer, nestled comfortably against Ethan’s chest.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?" she asked, her voice far too shy for someone her age.

"Yes." Ethan nodded, admiring her beautiful green eyes. "Tomorrow, you must return to Greenleaf. They must already be aware—or at least suspect—that you’ve bent the knee to me, but they’re in no position to challenge a fourth-stage mage."

Faelith nodded silently.

Although she was a little hesitant about the idea of leaving Ethan, she was still a mature, aged woman.

As for the possibility of being attacked, the only person who could move against her was Lord Fallenwinter, and she was seventy to eighty percent certain of victory against him.

Even if all his armies advanced together, she would likely be able to, at the very least, wipe out most of them and escape in complete safety.

Killing a fourth-stage expert determined to flee was nearly impossible without some enormous advantage.

"Will you need my soldiers?" Faelith asked.

"No. Keep them rested and watching your walls. Once I’ve dealt with the orcs and the coalition of Lords, I’ll need plenty of soldiers to collect the spoils and take control of their cities. All the cities, with the exception of Greenleaf and Fallenwinter, will be wiped out, and their citizens will be divided and integrated."

Faelith simply nodded in silence.

She preferred it that way as well, since it meant she wouldn’t risk her soldiers unnecessarily.

As for the integration of the cities, once their men were dead, there was little they could do to resist.

Their insignificant towns would be wiped out, and their populations prepared for new lives, divided among Windmere, Fallenwinter, and Greenleaf.

The only major problem was that these towns would likely have a massive surplus of women—something that was already an issue in Goldenveil, albeit on a smaller scale.

In war, men die, and it would come as no surprise if some of those towns ended up with sixty to seventy percent of their population consisting of women.

Since, under Goldenveil’s laws, a man could marry up to three women—or more if he could prove his ability to support them all—reproduction would not be a problem.

The biggest problem would be hatred.

These women would have lost sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers.

It was only natural that many of them would come to feel hatred toward Goldenveil, and Ethan knew this well.

One of his priorities would have to be appeasing that hatred, or at the very least drowning it out with a life of luxury and comfort.

In the end, a Leader could be loved, or he could be feared. Ideally, he should be both loved and feared.

But never, under any circumstances, could he be hated.

Ethan didn’t mind if his people feared him, but hatred—that he would never accept.

The young lord shook his head, giving Faelith a gentle pat on the back of her neck. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

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