CHAPTER 36: DECISION AND EXPANSION

"That’s necessary to save our clan, else—" Kealion was saying, but his words faded as Allen and his companions entered. The room’s focus instantly shifted, pale looks landing on Allen—yet Kealion’s eyes seemed to reach beyond him.

"Elder Allen..." Amaterasu exclaimed, rushing up to him.

The palace chamber remained cloaked in its usual twilight. Around the obsidian dining table, four elders sat, two seats left empty—one for Allen, the other for Maxen, the deceased Luminary of Water Wisdom.

Natasha and Isabell stood like elegant strangers at the edge of the gathering, but subtle, knowing smiles played on their lips.

"Why did you leave without leaving a message?" Kealion muttered, his tone regal, pushing even more authority into his voice as he sat upright, revealing more of his broad, muscular form.

"Let him breathe, Kealion," Amaterasu protested, hugging Allen like he was her ten-year-old cousin.

"It’s still the matter at hand," Allen said after a soft chuckle. "Hadas seems to be moving faster than we anticipated."

"he was behind the infernal attacks, wasn’t he?" Caelen muttered from a dark corner of the table, his voice heavy with the kind of fear one couldn’t hide—just as the wind never hides its coming.

"For certain," Allen replied calmly as he took his seat, composed. Amaterasu sat beside him, while Natasha and Isabell remained standing behind, their presence quietly dominant. Kealion’s eyes flicked to them—particularly Isabell—more than once in a heartbeat.

"Although he had planned something far worse, things didn’t go in his favor," Allen continued.

"You’re sure about that?" Garric smirked with a skeptical hum that ran contrary to Allen’s confidence. "What about the entire werewolf clan being tormented by just one man?"

Kealion coughed lightly, as if clearing his throat. "We haven’t finished discussing where you went... and who exactly your visitors are." Though in his mind he whispered a quiet prayer: I hope she isn’t just a visitor.

"I went to the Underworld," Allen said plainly, "then returned to the human world to correct a few wrongs."

"You what?" Amaterasu rasped, turning sharply to face him.

"You still haven’t answered properly," Kealion interjected, his tone tense with a hint of desperation.

"That’s my mother," Allen snapped, gesturing to Isabell standing at his back right, her wings flapping lazily as she offered a smile so angelic, it sent cold shivers down Kealion’s spine.

"And that’s Natasha," Allen added, pointing to his girlfriend—or perhaps the only human of them all. "She’s—"

"That’s enough information," Kealion cut in, his emotions trembling in the air. Beneath the table, his cock stirred uncontrollably as his gaze lingered on Isabell’s glowing form and unsettlingly seductive smile.

"We might be getting a new elder soon," Amaterasu whispered, her voice barely audible, teasing Kealion’s disturbed composure.

"As I was saying..." Allen interrupted, snapping Kealion out of his fantasies, "Hadas thrives on fear. He draws power from it. And if what Natasha told me is true, the werewolf clan is feeding him a lot."

"That’s what Lilitu said," Amaterasu added, before Maxen picked up the thread. "So you’re suggesting we intervene, even if they’ve never sought our help?"

"It’s the best option—and fast. Every second matters."

"Kealion," Maxen said sharply.

The king jolted, shaking off the thoughts clouding his mind. Of course, he had been lost—somewhere between Hadas’s looming threat... and Isabell’s haunting grace.

"You were saying something," Maxen pressed. "Make a decision. Then you can return to your imaginative heaven."

Kealion tried to speak, but his words clung to his throat, caught between Maxen’s sudden command and Isabell’s smile that felt like both a blessing and a trap.

"Permission granted," he finally declared with a deliberately cleared throat.

"You may use your Dark Elf abilities—but be careful not to draw more trouble than we already have."

"Finally..." Caelen exhaled deeply. "I can fight at full potential."

The dark elven abilities of SSS-Ranked elves were unnatural. It wasn’t just the power—it was the aura they emitted. Under the rising moon, that aura became even more potent. But when these powers grew unstable, the hosts exploded—and portals to moon-born monsters from ancient darkness would be torn open. Such destruction had been unseen for generations thats why the use of SSS-RANK Dark Elf powers had long been forbidden.

So they were still holding back, Allen thought, reflecting on his previous battles with Caelen and Amaterasu. How could I ever believe I defeated an SSS-Rank elder so easily?

"So... what next, my king?" Amaterasu smirked. "Sorry to interrupt your blissful thoughts, but you still have duties to fulfill."

Kealion didn’t protest. She wasn’t wrong.

"Hm." He exhaled, tongue pressing against thought. After a moment, he spoke:

"Allen, Amaterasu—you’ll go to the werewolf clan. We can’t allow Hadas to keep feeding on them unchecked. Caelen, Maxen—you’re to investigate the Goblin clan. I don’t know where they are, but with your Dark Elf powers, you’re our best trackers. If they’re suffering like the werewolves, bring them in. If not—vanish without a trace. We can’t afford exposure."

A few more questions came across the table, but Kealion answered them all in haste. His gaze, though, kept drifting—back to Isabell, like a moth to flame.

"Dismissed," he finally said, cutting off Amaterasu’s final inquiry. The word carried more desire than command.

They all rose in their assigned groups.

"I’m heading out, Mom. You coming with me?" Allen smirked, turning to Isabell.

Her eyes were glued to Kealion as he stood—his massive cock stiff, hanging toward the floor from sheer weight. Her mouth parted slightly in shock before she masked it behind an innocent smile.

"Be safe, my boy," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I know nothing can scratch a magicians you. I’ll be waiting."

Allen saw it all—the silent scene between Kealion and Isabell. But he didn’t mind.

’Let her feel something in this world’, he thought. ’But...’

"Just make sure to take things one inch at a time," Allen said dryly, throwing a side glance at Kealion.

Isabell chuckled softly, her body already betraying her. She hadn’t even been touched, yet slick warmth trailed down her thighs. He’s right, she thought, breath shallow. I was worried Allen’s size was too much... but this? This is beyond imagination. Can I even...?

Allen didn’t need to ask Tasha if she was ready. He simply gave her a confident smile and took her hand as they stepped out of the building. Natasha hurried them along, her mind racing. She couldn’t risk giving another rival—like Elara or Lilitu—any more time near Allen. Amaterasu was already enough competition.

The silver door clicked shut, leaving only Isabell and Kealion inside. The air shifted. Shadows coiled along the corners, heavy with unspoken desire. Neither had moved, but the atmosphere pulsed with heat and tension, as though the room itself knew what was coming.

Kealion stepped toward her. Each movement deliberate. Isabell’s knees wavered, not from fear—but from the sheer weight of the presence bearing down on her.

"I hear you’re Allen’s mother," Kealion whispered, stopping just a breath away.

"And you must be the king of this world where clothes are forbidden," she murmured, her fingertip grazing across his chest. "Why wouldn’t a man with such a... formidable gift make such law?"

A smirk played at Kealion’s lips. "I can make you feel relatively wider, you know."

His voice was low, dark velvet. The heat of his breath curled into her ear, making her shiver. Her eyes climbed higher, finally meeting his.

"Then... expand me," she whispered.

In one swift motion, Kealion lifted her by the thighs and placed her atop the long table beside her. One hand still bore the charred black scar of Zarynth’s strike—raw, powerful. The other shimmered gold with regal elegance. Together, they held both fury and control.

He positioned himself between her legs, the weight of his presence alone enough to make her gasp.

"Mmm..." Isabell let out a breathy moan, even before he moved.

Just the weight of his shaft against her glistening folds made Isabell moan again—deep, desperate, and drenched in anticipation.

Kealion didn’t rush. His cock, thick and regal, pressed forward, and only the head slipped in. Even that much felt like a violation of size and reason. Her walls clung tightly, pulsing in resistance, almost as if her body refused to stretch any wider. A tremor shot through her.

"Ghaaah~!" she cried out, her moan raw, choked with a mix of pain and pleasure. Her body arched reflexively, nipples hardened, lips parted in disbelief.

"Good," Kealion murmured. "Too good."

His voice wasn’t triumphant. It was reverent.

He worked with just his shaft—no thrust yet, only precision. A slow, steady widening. Each movement was deliberate, almost scientific, like a sculptor shaping something divine. The scarred hand gripped her thigh firmly while the normal one caressed her trembling side. Her folds gradually loosened, tears pooling in her eyes—not from agony, but from the overwhelming fusion of pain, stretch, and heat.

And still, Kealion wasn’t halfway in.

He had fifteen more inches to go. That was the plan. To go all the way in, reshape her from the inside until she could take him fully. It would take hours. But he would reach it. He always did.

☆☆☆

Cealen and Maxen’s two-man unit remained within the city walls, preparing not only their weapons—but their hearts.

They would face anything out there. Whit what they had seeing out recently, anything was possible. All while searching for a clan they knew almost nothing about.

But that wasn’t all.

To conserve energy, they had to wait for the moon—when Cealen’s Dark Elf abilities would peak. Only then would he be fully capable of connecting to the wind, reading the invisible notes it carried, far and wide. Whispered messages from nature itself.

They would find what no map could.

Hours later...

After endless preparations and last-minute scrambling, Allen stood at the west end of the wall. Towering stone rose above them. The air tasted of tension and iron.

Beside him stood Amaterasu and the shackled werewolf—bound in enchanted chains, trembling visibly. He moved as if every step brought him closer to the death he once escaped.

Natasha’s face was tilted slightly, lips tight with quiet frustration. The delays had stacked. First, retrieving the werewolf from the palace prison. Then Amaterasu returning to her hut to reclaim her ancestral blade. It all added up—and time slipped by.

By the time they reached halfway to the walls, Elara had stumbled upon them.

Thankfully, the sun was fading. Lilitu, weakened by its light, had remained docile—still locked away inside Amaterasu’s hut, resting from her relentless nighttime search for Allen.

It was now a crowd of rivals.

They were all getting along—surprisingly. Elara even spoke openly about the many times she’d been with Allen, not hiding the raw details of their encounters.

But what stopped Tasha from fully snapping was when Elara finally revealed Allen’s basic ability—the truth behind why he did what he did.

That calmed the storm in Natasha’s chest. At least it wasn’t purely for pleasure, she told herself. There was a purpose... a system behind his actions, ’he needed it for survival I guess’

Even so, it didn’t erase the sting.

Elara had enjoyed full time with him. She had bonded, fought, and climaxed by his side. Natasha, on the other hand, had barely gotten started—then he vanished. That made the fire in her blood burn just a bit hotter.

Allen stood before the towering wall, the fading light casting long shadows behind them.

He smirked, not looking back.

"Ladies," he said coolly, "let’s go. Hadas cant get more than he already has"