Chapter 777- Fucking the mommy infront of Son
The sword pierced his chest.
The blade, the spiritual weapon, entered from behind. Through his back, through his ribs, through his chest. The steel, the cold, sharp, unforgiving steel, emerged from his sternum. The blood, the red, hot, arterial blood, sprayed.
He blinked. The shock, the confusion, the disbelief of a man who had just been stabbed, was there. He turned. His body, the impaled body, the bleeding body, turned.
His eyes widened.
The woman. The thick woman. The blind woman. Lady Han’s mother. Her eyes, covered by the bandage. Her hand, the hand that had held the sword, was steady. The weapon, the spiritual blade, was in her grip.
"Aunt," he whispered. The word, the familial term, the title he had used for the blind woman for over a century, was there. The recognition, the shock, the betrayal of being stabbed by a woman he considered family, was in his eyes.
The blind mother, her hand, placed on his cheek. The touch, the warm, maternal touch, was there. But her voice, her musical voice, was cold.
"How dare you," she said. Her voice was soft. The menace, the absolute, divine-qi-backed menace of a woman who had been fucked into Soul Formation and had sworn allegiance to the man who had done it, was there. "Try to yell. Against my Master."
The eldest prince coughed. The blood, the red, from his mouth, came. The sword, pulled out, was there. The wound, the open, bleeding wound in his chest, was there.
He was kicked. The blind mother’s foot, the Soul Formation qi, hit. He was thrown. Onto the street. Onto the cobblestones.
Instantly, his guards arrived. The Divine Integration guards, the old cultivator, the retainers — all of them, came. The fight, the brief, brutal, one-sided fight, was there.
The blind mother, her Soul Formation cultivation, her divine-qi-enhanced body, fought. The guards, the Divine Integration cultivators, were stronger. But the divine qi, the residual power from Tianlong’s cum, amplified her. And the blind mother, the woman who had been a mortal hours ago, was now a Soul Formation peak cultivator with the combat instincts of a woman who had nothing to lose.
The guards died. The retainers fled. The eldest prince, bleeding, broken, lay on the street.
His support, his backup, his guardian — all gone. Dead or fled.
He lay. On the cobblestones. The blood, the pooling blood, was there. His eyes, his sharp eyes, the dazed, pained, disbelieving eyes, were on the sky.
"Why?" he whispered. His voice was broken. "Why is nothing working? First the junior sister. And now even my childhood friend. Even Aunt attacked me. Everything... everything is..."
His eyes, looking up, found the sky.
The ships. The massive, gigantic, golden and crimson ships of the Long Dynasty, were there. Moving. Rising. The fleet, the four warships and the additional vessels that had joined, were ascending. Toward the upper realm. The Emperor of the Long Dynasty was departing.
The eldest prince, lying on the street, bleeding, broken, watched the ships rise. His fist, the bloody fist, clenched.
"I will one day take revenge," he said. His voice was a whisper. The vow, the impotent, desperate, impossible vow of a man who had been broken by a god, was there.
He flew. Slowly, painfully, his Divine Integration qi, weakened by the wound, carried him. Not toward the ships. Not toward the Emperor. Toward the palace. Toward the queen’s palace.
’I need to see Mother.’
~~ The Queen’s Palace — The Throne Room
The eldest prince, injured, bleeding, his white and silver robes stained crimson, arrived at the queen’s palace. The corridors, the familiar purple crystal walls, the formation light, were there. His steps, stumbling, were unsteady. The wound, the chest wound, was still bleeding. His qi, his Divine Integration, was barely holding him together.
He walked. Through the halls, past the servants who gasped, past the guards who bowed and then froze at the sight of his blood.
Then he heard it.
The sound. The loud, unmistakable, impossible sound. A woman’s cry. A moan. Not a cry of pain. A moan of pleasure. Raw, primal, overwhelming pleasure. Coming from the throne room.
"Ah~! Ah~! You monster! My son... my son will... Anhgh~!!"
The voice. The musical, aristocratic, noble voice of a queen. His mother. The Queen of the Purple Astral Province. Moaning. Screaming. Being fucked.
The eldest prince’s feet, his stumbling feet, moved faster. He ran. Through the corridor, toward the throne room doors. The double doors, the purple crystal, the golden handles, were there.
He kicked. The doors, the heavy crystal, flew open. The impact, the Divine Integration-powered kick, sent them crashing inward.
"What is happening?" he yelled. His voice, the raw, desperate, bleeding voice of a man whose world was ending, filled the room.
He saw.
The throne room. The purple crystal walls, the formation light, the golden throne on the dais. The tea set, the cups, the pot, scattered on the floor. The silk cushions, the rugs, the curtains — all disheveled, displaced, knocked askew.
On the floor, near the tea set, the queen.
His mother. The Queen of the Purple Astral Province. The wife of Emperor Zihao. The mother of the eldest prince. The woman of nobility, of grace, of dignity.
She was naked. Completely. Her robes, the imperial silk, the fabric that cost more than a commoner’s house, were pooled on the floor. Her body, the mature, full, noble body, was bare. Her boobs, enormous, heavy, maternal, were swinging. Her ass, the thick, royal, well-fed ass, was raised. Her face, the beautiful, dignified face, was pressed against the floor. Her hair, the dark, imperial hair, was loose, wild, spread across the silk cushions.
Behind her, standing, his golden body, his dark hair, his gold-crimson eyes, was Tianlong. His hands, large and pale, on her hips. His cock, twelve inches, the divine organ, was inside her. His hips, driving, were moving. The rhythm, the relentless, divine rhythm, was there.
Pah pah pah pah pah!
"OUNGH~!! HNNNGH~!! My son... my son will... AAANGH~!!"
The queen, her face, the ahegao, the fucked-silly, mind-blank, tongue-out expression, was there. Her eyes, rolling, were vacant. Her mouth, open, the tongue extended, gasped. Her boobs, swinging, the dark nipples stiff, hit the floor with each thrust.
The eldest prince, his eyes, the shock, the horror, the absolute, world-ending horror of a son seeing his mother fucked on the floor of the throne room, was there.
"What are you doing?" he screamed. His voice broke. The raw, primal, anguished scream of a son witnessing his mother’s violation, filled the room.
He ran. To attack. His hand, the Divine Integration qi, the golden energy, surged. His sword, the spiritual blade, was drawn. He charged.
Tianlong’s hand, without turning, without looking, without acknowledging, came up. The palm, flat, the divine qi, the transcendent force, pushed. The air, the space, the reality itself, bent.
The eldest prince was thrown. His body, the injured, bleeding body, was hurled. Across the throne room. Through the air. Into the wall. The purple crystal, the impact, cracked. His body, the broken body, slid to the floor.
He lay. In the sky. No — against the wall. His body, the impaled, bleeding, broken body, was there. His eyes, his sharp eyes, the dazed, pained, disbelieving eyes, closed.
"You bastard," he whispered. His voice was barely audible. The words, the last, fading, impotent words of a man who had been broken, were there. "Why did you do it?"
Tianlong, his hips still driving, his cock still inside the queen, did not respond. His gold-crimson eyes, on the system prompt that appeared in his divine consciousness, were there.
|| [ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]||
|| Villain Aura Acquired.||
|| The Emperor has claimed the mother of his rival. The Queen of the Purple Astral Province has been added to the harem.||
|| Villain Aura: +10,000||
|| Effect: Fear and submission from weaker cultivators increased by 500%.||