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

"Ah... son of a bitch..." Ethan muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes still shut as he lay flat on his back in a warm pool of his own blood.

The pain had completely subsided, yet he still couldn’t muster enough strength to pry his eyelids open.

He really should have asked the system exactly how much that would hurt and prepared himself better. Without a doubt.

Fortunately, in the end, everything had worked out.

Slowly, Ethan opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by the light streaming through the office windows.

He blinked a few times, turning his face from side to side as his vision adjusted to the morning glow.

With a hoarse groan, he pushed himself upright, feeling the still-warm blood trickling down the length of his back.

He sent a gentle pulse of aura toward his eyes, and in the next instant, the world lost its color.

Everything took on a grayish hue, time seeming to drag on in slow motion. An overwhelming wave of knowledge flooded his mind, and his lips parted in a heavy groan as his heart hammered against his ribs.

It was all there.

Every last one of the most secret techniques of the fallen God-Emperor.

Ethan didn’t hesitate. Leaving the office in a hurry, he ran straight toward the Goldenveil arenas, his chest still thundering with excitement.

It was early morning.

With Goldenveil’s population exploding and some of the wealthiest citizens already buying properties in the upscale district—which Ethan would soon begin filling with sumptuous mansions—the guard was being rapidly expanded.

The Order of the Golden Rose had announced the recruitment of two hundred more women.

These women, all with talent of at least Rank B, were already in the arena on their first day of training under the command of Evelyn and Mireya.

When Ethan arrived, he could only stop and watch, in sheer admiration, that breathtaking sight.

With their bodies bathed in the soft morning sun, the traditionally pale, milky complexions of the northern women glistened with sweat, each drop tracing a slow path down the curves of their exposed skin.

Their swords followed the pattern of Evelyn’s blade, slicing through the air in a still-clumsy manner, though the movements quickly steadied as their arms grew accustomed to the weight of the steel.

All were now properly armored, and the exposed tips of their full tits swayed heavily and obscenely inside their tight breastplates with every sudden movement, the pale flesh spilling over the steel edges like soft loaves of bread about to escape their molds.

With each thrust of the blade, the pairs of milky globes lunged upward and fell back with a slow, viscous tremor, twin mounds rubbing and squishing against one another inside the armor, glossy skin sliding against glossy skin.

Ethan drank it all in with satisfaction, his eyes slowly sliding across the ranks until they settled on Evelyn’s back—or, more specifically, on that perfect, perky, round, plump, tanned ass.

Evelyn had obviously noticed his presence, but she pretended not to, allowing him to close the distance. It wasn’t until his hand was already falling onto her right buttock that she let out a sigh.

A loud, sharp crack echoed through the arena, Ethan’s palm sinking deep into that tanned, squishy orb, his fingers burrowing into the warm, elastic flesh.

The impact made her entire cheek quake in a slow, heavy ripple, the wave of tanned meat crashing sideways until it reached the neighboring buttock, which quivered in a delightful counterpulse.

The tremor stretched the fabric of those shorts that looked more like tight little panties and that made Ethan drool so much.

Within the palace walls, she used to wear outfits even shorter than usual, just to tease her husband.

And since she had access to the fortress’s defensive arrays, whenever she sensed any man other than Ethan approaching, a single thought was enough for the power of her Rank S axe to drape her body in more modest clothing.

Beyond armor, the axe could also replicate ordinary fabrics, which made it quite useful in everyday life.

At the slap, Evelyn let out a sweet grunt that quickly dissolved into a long, trembling moan, her hips instinctively arching backward in search of more contact, that plump rear pressing right into his palm as though begging for a second strike.

"Nghnn~~ P-pervert... can’t you see I’m busy?" Evelyn managed, trying in vain to force a tone of anger into her honeyed voice, her flushed cheeks betraying any attempt at irritation.

"I see," Ethan nodded, leaning over her and pressing a slow kiss to her damp neck, his lips brushing against skin salty with sweat.

Evelyn shuddered from head to toe, a shiver rolling up her spine. Mireya, watching the pair with her arms crossed, merely snorted and looked away with feigned disdain, her purple cheeks taking on a faint pink hue that betrayed her indifference.

The many newly selected beauties had interrupted their training as well, now watching Ethan with flushed faces, muffled whispers spreading rapidly through the ranks.

They all already knew a great deal about him—especially the fact that every girl in his service was, in practice, his concubine, and that, upon being accepted into the Order of the Golden Rose Guard, they had to take an oath that indirectly prevented them from having relations with any man other than him.

Not that they were exactly frightened by such a prospect.

When they enlisted, it was not only for the generous salary but also for the very real chance of one day becoming Ethan’s concubines.

Seeing him treat Evelyn and Mireya with such tenderness and intimacy, they could only sigh softly to themselves, fingers tightening around the hilts of their swords.

"What are you doing here?" Mireya asked, struggling to maintain her composure as Ethan pulled her against his body with a single arm.

He sealed the death knight’s cold lips in a passionate kiss, savoring the contrast of her icy skin against his own, and smiled as he pulled away.

"I’ve discovered some new skills, and I’d like to test them out," Ethan said, releasing the two women with a mischievous curl to his lips.

"How about a training session with your beloved husband?"

Thanks to the eyes of the God-Emperor, Ethan had access to all of his techniques, yet all he possessed was the information itself—memories perfectly preserved, like pages from open books in his mind.

He would need to put them into practice. And, of course, train hard.

Fortunately, Evelyn and Mireya were more than happy to train with their husband.

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