NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Kane nodded once.

"They will be very helpful in defending, especially against the small hordes once the sky breaks. Mass, reach, the kind of stubborn endurance that doesn’t fold when the first line of corrupted beasts hits. If we can bind them, or even just keep them from sitting the war out, the southern and eastern approaches stop being open wounds."

The Elven Queen studied him for a long moment, fingers still steepled above the map.

"Kane... I know you’ve convinced the beast race to somehow cooperate, and this might seem like I’m repeating myself, but Giants are indeed different. Not only do they live on a separate island, but you can’t even fuck them to convince them the way you do the rest. Their scale, their customs, the way they measure strength- none of it bends to the methods that worked in Menual or Milfheim or Berakamon."

Kane’s mouth curved.

"I won’t be so sure of that."

He let the humor fade into something flatter and more practical.

"It’s not about control. While I can’t use my regular tricks on them, they’re not as adamant as the beasts either. We try to reason, or we fight and make them reason. That’s all. Precedent, demonstrated cost, and the fact that the sky is going to crack whether they vote on it or not. Thora and Misha come with me. We stage properly. We don’t walk in swinging and hope for the best."

The Queen inclined her head, accepting the outline even if she clearly still had reservations.

She turned slightly, gaze moving to the darkening windows.

"I’m glad you returned safely. You were in Milfheim before you left for Berakamon?"

"Mm."

"How did the queen react?"

"She gave me her blessings. Nothing more."

The Elven Queen didn’t reply at once.

Silence.

When she did, her voice carried a thin, dry edge of amusement.

"..."

"..."

"Now go on... or do you want to fuck me on the table as you did after defeating Menual boats?"

Kane’s smirk was immediate and unapologetic.

"I still haven’t slept with my wives properly since I got back. Even a queen has to wait."

She gave a small smile at that and waved him away with two fingers.

"Then go make good on the arrears before you start collecting the next empire. And Kane, recover fully before you set foot on that island. I meant what I said about the tokens. Continuity and strength. Not a half-healed variable hoping the Giants are feeling generous."

He left the solar with the pale-wood case under his good arm and Firlia’s quickly hidden glance following him through the antechamber.

The walk back toward Sylvander’s guest manor took the rest of the afternoon and the first part of evening.

His mind, however, was already on the island.

In the game, the Giant territories had been almost permanently locked: high cliffs, hostile approaches, a single obscure route most players never took because the early-game cost was brutal and the payoff sat too far behind other priorities.

He had never walked that path on any previous run.

Now the route was real, the neutrality was a strategic hole, and the yellow eyes of a Supreme Devil had already taken notice of the board. Reasoning first.

Force if reasoning failed.

Thora for the table-fist. Misha for everything that had to happen before the fist became necessary.

The rest of the coalition would have to hold while he was gone.

By the time the manor’s outer lamps came into view, it was proper evening.

The halls were quieter than the morning’s chaos.

He climbed the stairs carefully, left arm still bound, and pushed open the door to the main bedchamber expecting to find Thora waiting with food or a status demand or both.

That was not what he found.

Thora lay on the wide bed completely naked, propped on one elbow, dark hair loose across her shoulders and the pillows.

The lamplight caught the curve of her breasts and the full line of her hip and ass where she had shifted onto her side.

One hand supported her head; the other rested loosely on the sheet in front of her.

She looked at him the way she looked at a battlefield she had already decided to take.

Kane stopped just inside the door.

The ache in his body did not disappear, but it suddenly had competition.

Thora’s mouth curved, slow and certain.

Kane closed the door with his good shoulder and set the token case on the nearest table without looking away from her.

"You first, or they don’t know about it?"

"You just gonna talk, Chief?" she asked, voice lower.

"Or are you going to come here and remember what you actually came home to before the Queen and the empire and the next days eat every hour you’ve got left?"

He crossed the room.

The brace made undressing awkward.

She watched without offering to help, clearly enjoying the evidence that he was still limited and still choosing this anyway.

"How long were you lying like this?"

"Long enough to sweat."

When he finally got the shirt off and the light sleeping trousers down, the damage was obvious: fading bruises, the rigid brace, the careful way he moved to keep the ribs from pulling.

Thora’s eyes tracked all of it, then returned to his face.

"Are you healed yet?"

"Close enough for this. For you especially? Yes."

"Good."

She reached out, carefully caught the waistband of the brace’s supporting strap, and tugged him down onto the bed with more patience than she usually bothered to show.

"Because the other two can wait their turn for one night. I’ve been counting days with a wine cup in one hand and a training schedule in the other. You’re going to lie there and let me collect."

Kane settled onto his back, good arm already sliding under her, palm spanning the warm weight of her ass as she straddled his thighs with deliberate care for his ribs.

The first solid contact of skin on skin pulled a rough sound out of him that had nothing to do with pain.

"I missed this," he said, quiet and unvarnished.

"The reports, the clock, the eyes- none of it sat as heavy as walking back into rooms that didn’t have you in them."