The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

The earth beneath Azriel cracked under the localized pressure, pinning his chest to the ground as every muscle in his back screamed under the brutal force.

His lungs gasped for air, his ribs feeling as though they were locked in an iron vise.

Vesperia didn’t even blink.

With an effortlessly fluid movement, she flicked her wrist, summoning a slim silver box out of thin air.

She plucked a single cigarette from inside, placed it between her plump, glossy lips, and snapped her fingers to kindle a tiny, concentrated spark of white flame at her thumb.

She took a long, slow drag.

The tip flared a vivid crimson before she exhaled a thick cloud of pale gray smoke into the quiet arena air.

In the floating vapor, tiny, glittering specks of refined aether sparkled like dying stars.

"You possess a terrifying level of potential, boy," Vesperia said, her voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone that echoed off the stone walls of the arena.

"My daughter did a decent job laying down your baseline, but she’s far too soft on you. She looks at you with love and longing, which means she hesitates to break your bones when you need them broken."

Azriel gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning stark white as he dug his fingers into the cracked earth, trying to push himself off the ground.

He forced his head up, his violet eyes locking onto her face.

The sight made his blood run cold.

There was not a single shred of playfulness left in Vesperia’s expression.

Her golden eyes burned with the ruthless, unyielding pride of an Overlord powerhouse who had survived centuries of brutal war.

The sharp, predatory twist of her lips sent an involuntary shudder rippling down his spine.

This wasn’t the teasing, horny MILF from moments ago. This was a legendary living weapon.

"Now, however... you are in my hands," Vesperia purred softly, flicking a speck of ash off her cigarette. "And I am going to mold you into something worthy of that absurd talent of yours."

She took another slow drag, looking down at his struggling form with absolute indifference.

"Now get up," she commanded, her voice dropping like a heavy iron hammer. "Don’t show me such a pathetic sight."

The crushing pressure pressed against Azriel’s spine like an iron slab, forcing dust into his throat with every ragged breath.

Yet, as Vesperia’s cold command echoed across the arena, a sharp, dark spark ignited within his chest.

He didn’t scream, nor did he beg her to lessen the weight.

Instead, a low, gravelly chuckle escaped his lips, rising from deep within his throat.

’Your essence is a dark elixir; the more you conquer, the more your bloodline awakens.’

The ancient law of his Abyssal Ardor bloodline echoed through his mind.

Ever since he had completely conquered Rosalind, the dark energy slumbering in his blood had been condensing, waiting for a catalyst, a ruthless, physical catalyst, to break its shell and force an evolution.

And Vesperia’s crushing gravity was exactly the catalyst it needed.

With that realization, his determination flared like a sleeping beast dragged into the light. Violet-black energy surged violently beneath his skin, crackling along his veins as his muscle fibers strained against the suffocating gravity.

CRACK—!

The dirt beneath his palms split further.

Muscle fibers tore and instantly stitched back together under the raw density of his physique.

Azriel pushed. Slowly, agonizingly, his chest lifted from the shattered earth. His elbows locked.

His knees drew under his hips, the heavy gravity bands humming with violent purple light as they attempted to force him back down.

With a final, guttural growl, Azriel stood upright.

He rolled his broad shoulders, his dark hair falling across his forehead, shadowing violet eyes that burned with pure, predatory defiance.

The gravity gear strained his entire framework, but he stood tall, locking his gaze squarely onto the Overlord before him.

Vesperia took another drag from her cigarette, watching his impossible stand with an even wider, sharper smile. "Truly interesting..."

With a flick of her slender fingers, a crystal vial containing a thick, swirling blood-red liquid materialized in her hand.

She tossed it casually toward him.

"Drink this," Vesperia commanded.

"Your bloodline is evolving. It is going to consume a massive amount of blood energy to sustain the process."

Azriel’s brows furrowed in confusion, not entirely understanding her words.

But as he reached out his hand to catch the flying vial, a horrifying, bottomless hunger suddenly erupted from the core of his abdomen.

"AGH—!"

Azriel let out a violent growl as he crashed to his knees, clutching his stomach. It felt as if his body were digesting itself from the inside out.

He could physically feel his flesh shrinking, his energy reserves draining at an appalling rate.

If he didn’t feed this ravenous bloodline immediately, he would turn into a shriveled, lifeless corpse within minutes.

Vesperia offered no assistance. She simply stood there, smoking her cigarette with cold, observant detachment.

Driven purely by survival instinct, Azriel crawled across the dirt toward where the vial had landed.

Pain flared through every nerve ending, making every millimeter of movement feel like dragging himself through broken glass.

His trembling fingers finally touched the cold glass.

The moment contact was made, his body reacted frantically, recognizing the vital essence inside.

He snatched the vial, ripped off the stopper, and a rich, intoxicatingly sweet scent wafted into the air. Smelling it only amplified his body’s desperate hunger, his muscles were literally dissolving beneath his skin to fuel the awakening!

"ROAARRGGH!"

With a primal roar, Azriel threw his head back and gulped down every last drop of the crimson liquid.

The moment the fluid hit his throat, the agonizing void in his stomach receded slightly.

Azriel gasped for air, his dulling eyes flashing with a brief wave of relief as he collapsed onto his elbows.

Then, the true hell began.

-x-

A/N:

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