The city lay in ruin, a masterpiece of destruction painted in crimson. Not a single building remained untouched—rubble, fire, and bodies littered the streets, a testament to the massacre that had just unfolded.
Yet, amid the carnage, one structure stood defiantly—the last remaining building, left standing as per it's master's silent command. Within its shadowed halls, the city's Lord trembled, bound and helpless, awaiting whatever cruel fate Lycius had in store.
With twenty-five city Lords now captured, Lycius, Xylara, and Kiara vanished from the bloodstained battlefield, reappearing before the grand entrance of Desire Palace. The towering golden doors gleamed under the pale moonlight, an unspoken invitation into the seat of succubus power.
Their return did not go unnoticed.
Within the palace, Lana and Elizabeth immediately sensed their presence, yet neither made a move.
Elizabeth remained deep in meditation, unbothered. Lana, ever disciplined, continued swinging her greatsword, her focus undeterred.
Only Vynessa came to meet them.
The moment she laid eyes on Lycius, her breath caught in her throat.
This was not the boy she had last seen.
Gone was the youthful form she had known—standing before her now was a man, tall and imposing, his presence overwhelming. If she hadn't seen his illusion earlier that morning, she would have never recognized him without their bond.
Her face burned as the memory of that illusion surfaced.
She had seen him like this before— but only as an illusion. Now, standing before the real thing, she found herself flustered.
Quickly regaining her composure, Vynessa studied him with fascination.
How had he grown so much in only one day?
Her gaze swept over his body, taking in every sharp, refined feature, every trace of raw power that now radiated from him. The Lycius she knew had been formidable—but this? This was something else entirely.
Still, as curious as she was about his transformation, her attention soon shifted.
She turned to her mother.
A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips—Xylara was unharmed. Despite the blood, the exhaustion in her expression, there wasn't a single injury on her body.
That alone was enough to ease some of the tension in Vynessa's chest.
But then, her gaze drifted to the last member of their group—
Kiara.
A strange sensation coiled in Vynessa's gut.
The moment she laid eyes on the woman, every instinct screamed at her to be cautious.
Kiara was dangerous.
Not in the way Lana or Elizabeth were—this wasn't the kind of danger that threatened her life.
No, this was something far worse.
"She might steal my Lycius."
The realization hit like a blade to the chest.
Her grip on her robe tightened, violet eyes darkening as she studied the obsidian-eyed woman more closely.
She and Lycius looked the same age now.
That only made it worse.
A single thought took root in her mind, unwavering in its resolve:
"I need to find a way to mature my body—to match him, to stand beside him as his equal."
As the thought took root, an image of Elizabeth surfaced in Vynessa's mind.
She was the only one powerful enough to make this possible.
Excitement flared within her chest, a surge of anticipation at the mere possibility—but she quickly forced herself to calm down.
Her bond with Lycius had evolved into something beyond words, something instinctive.
She understood him now— as effortlessly as drawing breath, as naturally as lifting a feather.
And because she understood him, she knew what had to be done.
To recreate her mother—to reshape Xylara into what Lycius desired—he would have to break her first.
Vynessa's lips parted, but she said nothing.
Instead, she simply reached out, extending her hand toward the woman who had given her life.
Xylara sat in silence, her body weighed down by exhaustion, her soul drowning beneath the crushing depths of despair, hatred, and regret.
At first, she didn't react to the touch.
Then, slowly, her dulled violet eyes shifted, landing on the delicate hand resting atop her own.
Warmth.
The warmth spread through her skin, and for the briefest moment, something flickered in her gaze—surprise.
Her daughter.
Vynessa.
She had expected belittling. She had expected mockery or even disgust.
But what she saw in Vynessa's eyes was neither contempt nor pity.
It was sorrow.
A sorrow deeper than words, written in the quiet softness of her expression, unspoken yet impossible to ignore.
"Oh, Mother..."
Vynessa curled her fingers around Xylara's hand, tightening her grip ever so slightly.
"I can't wait for your transformation."
Lycius watched the silent exchange between mother and daughter, and for the first time in a while, a sense of satisfaction curled within him.
Vynessa had caught on.
She had understood his step-by-step process, the careful dismantling and eventual recreation of Xylara.
A proud smirk played at his lips before he spoke.
"Xylara, with the few hours left of the day, reconnect with your daughter."
His golden eyes gleamed with dark amusement.
"Your transformation begins at midnight."
Xylara stiffened, yet his words washed over her like a twisted lullaby.
Had anyone else commanded her to rekindle her bond with Vynessa, she would have resisted, faltered, failed.
But because it was Lycius—because she had already begun to break, and because she knew Vynessa, in her blind devotion, followed his every word without hesitation—she accepted.
There was just one problem.
She had so much to say.
And yet, not a single word came out.
Fortunately, Vynessa had always been talkative when she wanted to be.
The silence did not last long.
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Lycius strolled through the grand palace halls, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps accompanied by the soft clicks of Kiara's heels.
Their destination—the training chamber.
Upon entering, they were greeted by an ethereal sight.
Elizabeth sat atop a plush yoga mat, her voluptuous body adorned in a set of elegantly minimalistic meditation clothes—fabric that clung to her in all the right places, accentuating the dangerous curves of her feminine form.
But it wasn't just her beauty that captivated the room.
Her meditation was a spectacle of raw power.
Swirling around her in a mesmerizing display were various elements—fire, water, wind, earth, darkness, and their respective sub-elements.
Sparks of electricity danced along her fingertips.
Frost clung to the air like an unspoken whisper.
The ground beneath her vibrated ever so slightly.
Her breathing was steady. Controlled. Divine.
Yet the moment she sensed Lycius's presence, her golden eyes snapped open.
And they widened in pure, unmasked shock.
Before she could even form a single word—
Lana moved.
Like a blur of black and crimson, she vanished from her previous position, reappearing before Lycius with predatory grace.
Her golden gaze swept over him with undisguised intrigue.
Then—her lips curled into a sweet, teasing smile.
"Hmmm... my baby boy has already rushed into adulthood."
Her voice was laced with amusement, but within her mind, a storm raged.
— Is this what they call puberty?
— Is this the esteemed stage where children—especially sons—become rebellious?
— What did the human parenting guides say about this?
— Am I supposed to punish him… or support him?
— Would my punishments even work anymore?
Elizabeth's voice rang through her thoughts, answering without hesitation.
"Be supportive!"
Lana felt strangely grateful for her sister's wisdom.
She exhaled, allowing her possessive instincts to settle.
"Well, regardless of what you look like, you'll always be my baby boy—"
Her gaze flickered to the side—Kiara.
It was the first time Lana had been this close to her.
During their last encounter, the woman had vanished into Lycius's shadow before she could be properly assessed.
But now?
Now she could feel it.
Her strength.
Kiara was far more powerful than before.
Lana's eyes gleamed with dangerous amusement.
"Lycius, you've picked up quite the perfect servant."
She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a smirk.
"You wouldn't mind if I played with her, would you?"
Lycius raised a brow.
Normally, his mother wouldn't have even bothered to ask.
She would have taken what she wanted, consequences be damned.
Is this because I look older now?
No.
He was wrong.
Lana hadn't changed.
She wasn't asking for permission.
She had already sensed that Kiara would refuse to act without his command.
And that alone made her slightly lose interest.
But her interest in her son grew to great lengths.
Feeling a wave of arrogance, Lycius smirked, tilting his head slightly as he met his mother's gaze.
"Mother, I recall it was you who taught me—" his voice held a slow, deliberate confidence, dripping with superiority.
"In this world, nothing is free. If someone desires something from you, then they must first prove they have something worthy to offer in return."
The warmth in Lana's golden eyes flickered, giving way to a sudden, burning crimson.
For a brief moment, the room felt heavier, as though the air itself bent beneath the force of her silent fury.
Yet, despite the sheer dominance pressing down on him, Lycius didn't so much as flinch.
Instead, his own golden gaze darkened, sharpening with defiance, refusing to bow to his mother's will.
The tension between them crackled like a storm ready to break.
But just as quickly as her rage had surfaced, it vanished—replaced by something else.
Something deeper.
Something proud.
A slow, knowing smile tugged at Lana's lips as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Then, with effortless grace, she tiptoed up to his height, reaching out to cradle his face between her hands.
Her touch was gentle, yet undeniably possessive, her fingertips grazing his jawline with the fondness of a mother admiring her most precious creation.
"Aww, my sweet boy…" she cooed, her voice a melodic purr laced with teasing delight.
"You really know how to make your mother proud. Look at that gaze—so bold, so fearless... So utterly lovely."
Her thumbs brushed against his skin, her smirk deepening.
"Yet, I wonder... Is this your way of being rebellious against me?"
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