Dark Lord in Chains 89

Maybe multitasking was the superior option, I thought after a momentary thought even as I tightened my arms around her waist, preventing a painful collapse without the support of the wall after I took a step back. 

It proved to be a good choice. As I moved, her body lost all strength, and would have fallen down without my assistance keeping her up. 

As I walked toward the center of the room, she started showing signs of recovery. The biggest sign was the intensity of her transformation, slowly disappearing as I moved forward. The flames stayed on her body, covering every inch of her skin, but the flames started to get calmer, more stable. From the dazed yet satisfied smile on her face, I could feel that it was a personal preference rather than something she was unable to control. 

The room was still burning, but I easily ignored that even as I took a step among the flames, enjoying my new ability. 

I glanced at her bed, which was, just like everything else in the room, burned intensely, but the frame looked strong enough to carry us. So, I changed my direction there even as I cast a few spells. 

However, rather than extinguishing the flames, I reinforced the structure of the bed, making sure it wouldn’t collapse halfway into our little adventure. 

“It’s time we have a talk,” I said as I put her on the bed, face first. 

“D-do you think you can order me?” she stammered as she tried to turn and face me, uncaring of her nudity. However, while her words implied a rejection of my command, that message wasn’t exactly strong when the nature of her moan joined it. 

I just needed to press my hand on the small of her back softly to abort her attempt to turn. It was all she needed as an answer to her question. 

Regardless, I gave her the answer she was seeking. “Yes,” I answered, even as I touched the new addition to my magic, which made her flames flare once more. Whatever happened between us, creating a permanent connection.

A shocking connection, if her gasp was any indicator as I tapped to it. 

“What do you —“ she started in surrender, only for her words to disappear in a shocking moan. The reason, was my finger, slipped into her tight hole even as I cast that convenient spell to prepare her tightness to my entrance, cleaning and lubricating at the same time. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” I said as I spanked her ass with my empty hand, while a second finger joined the first to penetrate into her tightness. Her moan of protest was simply a thing of beauty. 

Especially since it was followed by her explanation. 

She took a deep breath before asking. “I was named Cinder, because I was unable to hold anything but a partial transformation,” she muttered, the bitterness in her tone enough to show just how bad of a problem it had been for her. 

“The wings and the hair,” I said, just to confirm. 

“Yes, but not anymore,” she answered, bitterness mixing with a sense of victory. 

“And, I’m guessing that it caused some problems.” 

“I don’t know what would have happened if it wasn’t for the retainers assigned by my mother before her disappearance, protecting me,” she said, though the casual mention suggested that the event happened a long time ago. “But even with the help I received, it was difficult to find my place.” 

I couldn’t help but take her claim of having a hard life lightly, as it was certainly comparative, and every single thing I saw about her showed that she had a spoiled life, one of comfort and luxury, to the point of she lacked the sense of what was difficult. 

Not that it was a big problem for me. 

“And, you decided to somehow push yourself to an important mission, hoping that success would bring the renown you’re seeking.” 

“Not as simple,” she answered, but her shame-filled tone suggested I was right on the money with my guess. 

“Now, tell me, what exactly is this mission,” I asked, finally glad that I would receive the answer to my question. 

“The dimensional turbulence is weakening, so we’re trying to retake possession of this planar fragment,” she started, only to be interrupted by a moan as I added another finger. 

However, this time, I didn’t cut her words to enjoy her words, but to process the weight behind her words. Her statement, a soft, trembling sentence, was enough to make my heart freeze. 

I intensified my assault to silence her for a moment, allowing me to ponder on the statement. There were three critical pieces of information in her sentence, each as dangerous as the previous one. 

The first one, the mention of dimensional turbulence, suggested that not only came from actually different worlds and not just from distant lands. 

The second one was her term to define our world. Planar fragment. I didn’t know the exact nature of classification she used, but the fragment was hardly something that was commonly used to define strong entities, implying that, the power balance between my world and theirs might be even worse than I had expected. 

The third one, of course, the implication of retaking possession of it, meaning at least one faction — probably at least two considering the existence and actions of the elves — was determined to actually rule our world. 

“How weak is this dimensional turbulence?” I asked even as I pulled my fingers out of her tightness, but it wasn’t a move to stop the treatment she was receiving. No, I pulled my fingers away to allow the main event to start. 

She let out an even more beautiful moan as I pressed my shaft against her tight entrance. Yet, it was a sign of her growing obedience that it last only a second before she answered my question. “They are quite strong for now, enough to hold back the Threat,” she explained. 

I bit my lips, suppressing my desire to cry in frustration even as she dropped another casual fireball that destroyed my perception. 

Luckily, she provided me with an excellent way to combat that frustration. I grabbed her wings before I pushed forward recklessly, skewering her fully with my shaft. It was a reckless move, one that would have caused an actual injury to anyone that didn’t have her spectacular physical abilities, but in her, it just triggered her moan. 

For a moment, I just enjoyed her spectacular tightness as I rammed repeatedly, giving myself a second to handle the realization of the fact. 

Only after a minute of reckless impaling, did I ask another question. “Just how many forces that your forces or the elves could send,” I asked, determined to focus on the more immediate aspects of my problem. 

Whatever this Threat was clearly important, I preferred to focus on the issues that created more immediate variables. 

Such as, how many elves and phoenixes I would be dealing with. 

“I don’t know exactly —“ she started, though it took a minute for her to recover from her moans enough to do so while I worked on her core, she got interrupted by a spank. 

“Guess, then,” I ordered. 

“The turbulence is calming down, but still, it’s strong enough to make every transfer a significant risk. A lot of magical ingredients need to be used to protect the traveler…” she quickly rattled, still interrupted often by moans as I continued to ram inside her. “Half a dozen at most, maybe?” she murmured. 

“And, how about all these constructs.” 

“Nonliving matter is easier to carry through the turbulence,” she answered. 

Interesting, I thought even as I spanked her ass, revisiting my perception of her richness. Her statement suggested that the powers behind the two factions were limited to sending half a dozen agents each, and even if her guess was wrong, I doubted it was by a huge margin. 

Yet, she had enough riches to achieve what was prohibitively expensive to a whole nation. 

Of course, that fact wasn’t too surprising. I had just made a visit to the treasury of the Empire, and that trip had revealed just how empty the treasury was, showing that the extent of the land and control wasn’t enough. 

Not only I was richer than the Empire by a considerable margin — as long as liquid reserves were concerned — but I could easily find a dozen noble houses that were probably richer. 

Compared to that, a noble house with the ability to partially match the capability of a country was not surprising — especially if that family was managed by a reckless woman with an inferiority complex, willing to prove herself. 

“How interesting,” I murmured even as I tightened my grip around her wings, giving myself a moment to process the secrets she revealed as she lost in a haze of pleasure. 

Meanwhile, my hips continued to work aggressively, invading her core again and again, creating an excellent haze to prevent the questioning from into turning something boring. 

Now, what should I focus on next…