The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Deep beneath the jagged peaks of the northern crags, far removed from the cold mountain air, lay a subterranean sanctum bathed in a sinister, rhythmic crimson radiance.

Thick veins of corrupted bloodstone lined the cavernous walls, pulsing like the arteries of an ancient, slumbering beast.

At the far end of the hall, elevated upon a dais of jagged black stone, sat a massive throne carved from abyssal obsidian.

Draped from head to toe in heavy, shadow-woven robes, a solitary figure rested upon the stone seat.

Flicker.

After a prolonged, suffocating silence, the figure’s eyes snapped open beneath the deep cowl, blazing with a piercing, venomous crimson hue.

"So... Level 9 already," a cool, modulated voice echoed through the vast emptiness of the hall, carrying the faint weight of a dry chuckle.

"The growth rate exceeds initial estimations."

The figure leaned slightly forward, resting a cloaked elbow upon the armrest of the throne, and cast a measured gaze downward.

At the foot of the dais, kneeling submissively on both knees upon the cold, blood-slicked stone, was a petite figure clad in identical dark vestments.

The cowl had slipped back just enough to reveal the youthful, sharp features of a teenage girl.

The cloaked master on the throne let a thin smile touch their hidden lips beneath the hood. "And how was your training today, child?"

The girl lifted her head instantly. Her dark eyes burned with an unsettling blend of unyielding reverence and rabid, feverish fanaticism.

"It was marvelous, High Mother," the girl spoke, her voice light and melodic, yet dripping with a chilling, remorseless thrill.

"I successfully harvested ten hunters today, all early Adept stage. It truly is delightful to join a standard dungeon raiding party, let them place all their trust in you, and then drive a blade through their spine from behind while they celebrate a boss kill. Seeing the utter shock and betrayal in their eyes as they realize what happened... hehehe... it never gets old."¹

She let out a soft, giddy giggle that reverberated eerily off the stone pillars.

The hooded master on the throne looked down at the kneeling girl with a cold, unreadable expression.

Yet beneath that impenetrable mask of authority, a faint, sharp tremor of unease stirred deep within the master’s chest.

Watching the sheer madness festering behind the young girl’s eyes, a rare seed of doubt took root, an uncertainty as to whether unleashing this particular creation upon the world was truly a calculated move, or an impending catastrophe.

"Good," the High Mother replied smoothly, her tone returning to a veneer of deadpan, sovereign authority.

"Clean your blade and prepare your meridians. You will be infiltrating the Ancient Beast Academy."

The girl’s grin stretched wider, unhinged and razor-sharp, her dark eyes flashing with manic delight as she looked up at the throne.

"Is the vessel going to be there?"

"He is."

A breathless, wicked giggle bubbled up from the girl’s chest as she traced the hilt of her hidden dagger.

"Oh, marvelous... it’s going to be so much fun winning his trust just to drive a blade into his back."

Back atop the frozen, wind-swept eastern peak, the crimson aftershocks of Vesperia’s crushing aura had cleared the thick mountain mists for miles, exposing the stark, brutal reality of the ridge.

Azriel stood half a pace behind her, his violet eyes taking in the grotesque state of the Adept-stage corpse.

The blackened, curdled blood pooled across the frost, while the chest cavity looked as though an explosive burst had detonated from the heart outward.

The etched, blackened runes scorched across the victim’s forehead still faintly hissed with malevolent soul-aether.

"Body possession," Vesperia repeated quietly, the fury in her voice cooling into a dangerous, icy edge as she crouched down to examine the ruined flesh.

"A parasitic soul-anchor was driven into this Adept’s soul. Whoever was puppeteering this body was using it as a disposable scout to monitor the spatial ripples around the dungeon entrance."

Azriel stepped closer, observing the lingering traces of dark energy with a sharp frown. "They were watching for our exit?"

"Not ours. Yours," Vesperia answered, reaching out a leather-clad finger to trace the blackened runes without touching the corrupted blood.

"They were waiting for you to come out. But the moment my presence overwhelmed the area, the puppet-master severed the psychic link from afar, violently detonating the host’s meridians to destroy any residual memory cores before I could interrogate the soul."

She stood up slowly, smoothing the obsidian leather across her chest. Her golden slit pupils swept over the distant mountain horizon with lethal calculation.

"To dare plant eyes near my territory... they’re getting bold," she muttered, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

"It only confirms that sending you to the Ancient Beast Academy competition was the right call. No matter how deep their shadows run, they wouldn’t dare act brazenly within the academy grounds. The Headmaster’s power is an absolute deterrent."

She turned back to him, extending a hand. "Let’s move."

Wrapping an arm around his waist, she leaped directly into the open air.

Instead of using the spatial teleportation array they had arrived through, wary that the runes might have been compromised or tracked, Vesperia took to the skies under her own power, soaring at blistering speeds above the sea of clouds.

Azriel remained quiet, the rushing wind whipping past his ears as his thoughts churned.

Someone was tailing him.

Someone was keeping tabs on his movements, hunting him from the shadows without his knowledge.

More than that, an irritating friction burned in his chest.

In this matriarchal world, having powerful women shield him might have been the norm, but he despised the sensation of being protected.

He wanted to be the one holding the blade at the front, standing as the shield rather than resting behind one.

His gaze drifted to the sleek spatial ring resting on his finger, the one gifted by Rosalind.

A faint smile touched his lips before he glanced up at the matriarch carrying him.

"Can we make a stop at one of the cities along the way?" Azriel asked.

Vesperia glanced down at him, her tone easy.

"Sure."

Azriel arched an eyebrow.

"Aren’t you worried someone might try to intercept us or stage an ambush if we enter an open settlement?"

A proud, razor-sharp smile curved Vesperia’s lips, her golden eyes flashing with unyielding arrogance.

"I fear nothing on this continent, Azriel. In all of Gorgorath, there isn’t a single soul who could stand against me in a true fight, save for one insufferable bitch and the academy’s Headmaster."

Hearing the venomous emphasis she placed on the word, Azriel couldn’t help but chuckle.

"And who is this ’bitch’ you sound so fond of?"

Vesperia let out a smoky, amused laugh, her grip on his waist tightening playfully.

"Keep working hard, boy. You’ll see her soon enough at the competition."

"Oh? You sound awfully eager to show me off to her," Azriel teased, sliding his free hand down to give her firm, leather-clad rear a brazen squeeze mid-air.

A soft, breathy gasp hitched in Vesperia’s throat as she shot him a sultry, narrowed glare.

"Naturally. In every other arena, that woman tries to match me stride for stride, except now when I have a man like you. In that, she doesn’t stand a chance."

Azriel’s violet eyes gleamed with a wicked, predatory ambition.

"And what if I end up claiming her too?"

Vesperia abruptly arrested her momentum, hovering motionless amidst the swirling sea of white clouds.

She stared at him for a heartbeat before bursting into a deep, delighted laugh that vibrated with raw, petty satisfaction.

"If you can actually conquer that woman, it would be the ultimate victory for me," she purred, her golden slit pupils burning with vicious amusement.

"She’s remained unmarried for centuries, drowning in her own insufferable pride and looking down on everyone. If you manage to pin that arrogant bitch beneath you and make her beg... there would be no sweeter humiliation."

Azriel flashed her a confident, dangerous smirk, tightening his arm around her waist.

"Consider it done. Daddy will take care of her just for you."

[LIVE CHAT]

[Sadistic69] (Red): AHAHAHAHA! VESPERIA LITERALLY COMMISSIONING A HIT ON HER CENTURIES-OLD RIVAL! SHE IS SO PETTY I LOVE HER!

[God_Slayer_Klara] (Red): An ancient, untouchable, prideful queen who thinks she’s above men? Oh, Azriel is going to dismantle her entire worldview.

[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): The mother-in-law is literally sending him to conquer her nemesis as a flex... this dynamic is completely unhinged!

[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): First Rosalind, then Vesperia, and now the rival Overlord? His harem is going to cause a continent-wide political crisis

[Battle_Maiden_Vera] (White): If she’s the rival Vesperia speaks of, her realm is likely an Overlord. You better work harder before you try playing with fire, Azriel.

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): I need front-row tickets to this Academy competition immediately...

-x-

A/N:

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