Chapter 94: All Mines R-18 - The Crimson General [A/N: Skip the beginning if you’re not interested in the R-18 scenes.] After two hours of relentless pleasure, Sonna finally collapsed... her body trembling, voice hoarse, and eyes glazed with bliss. She tapped the cloud-bed weakly, gasping for breath, tears of joy still streaking her cheeks. Before anyone else could move, Yonna surged forward like a storm. The air itself was thick with desire... so dense it shimmered rose-gold, every breath tasting of Ash’s scent, every heartbeat echoing his name. Nia, Vaeloria, and even Seris were lost in their own hands, thighs slick, moans spilling freely as they watched, imagined, craved. Yonna crashed into Ash with a growl that was half-challenge, half-surrender. Her lips claimed his in a deep, nasty kiss. She tried to dominate with her tongue wrestling his with amateur ferocity. Her palm wrapped around his cock, stroking hard and fast, trying to make him lose control first. She lost. Ash kissed her back until her knees buckled, until her grip faltered, until she melted against him with a broken moan. He pulled away just enough to let her breathe. Yonna fell back onto the cloud-bed, legs spreading wide, chest heaving. She looked up at him with her eyes burning, voice rough with need and defiance. "Your turn, bastard... Show me why I waited all these years." "... and don’t be gentle... fuck me!" Yonna snarled, her blue eyes blazing with challenge and raw, shameless need. Something inside Ash snapped. Since his last evolution a subtle change had been growing, something he couldn’t name. Now, buried to the hilt inside Yonna’s heat, clarity struck like lightning. ’My human nature... is completely gone.’ The thought flashed and vanished. He didn’t care. He welcomed it. "AHH YES MORE!!!" Yonna screamed as his cock slammed so deep her entire body lifted off the cloud-bed, back arching like a drawn bow. Ash flipped her onto her stomach in one brutal motion. His palm cracked across her ass with a sound that echoed through the rose-gold clouds. PAH!!! "FUCK! HIT ME MORE!" she begged, voice breaking on the edge of tears and ecstasy. "Oh? My dear loves pain, huh~" Ash growled, voice velvet and venom. He fisted her black-red hair, yanking her head back until their eyes met.... his glowing blood-pink, hers wild and worshipful. PAH! PAH! PAH! He sped up, hips slamming with merciless rhythm, each thrust driving her face into the cloud-bed only to drag her back by the hair for another bruising kiss. An hour blurred past with positions shifting like a storm: doggystyle, prone, her riding him until her legs gave out, him pinning her down while she screamed his name into the void. Yonna finally collapsed beside the sleeping Sonna, body trembling, voice gone with eyes rolled back in perfect, broken bliss. Ash turned. Seris sat with legs spread wide, fingers buried deep in her dripping pussy, crimson braids sticking to sweat-slick skin. Nia and Vaeloria knelt nearby, hands equally busy, moans spilling freely into the lust-soaked air. PAH! He slapped his cock, still glistening with Yonna and Sonna across Seris’s flushed cheek, painting her with their mixed release. "Suck it." His fingers threaded gently through her crimson braids. Seris’s pussy clenched so hard she squirted on the spot, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. "Y-yes, Your Majesty..." She took him in... slow, clumsy, teeth grazing, but the devotion in her eyes made every scrape feel like worship. "Ugh..." Ash groaned, pleasure rolling through him in endless waves. "Little Nia... My sovereign... come." They crawled to him instantly. PAH! PAH! He smacked their asses, gripped hard, pulled them flush against his sides. His mouth claimed Vaeloria in a bruising kiss while his fingers slid deep into Nia, curling until she screamed against his shoulder. "Mmh... Master~" Vaeloria moaned into his lips as his other hand found her. "Ahh, faster Ashy~" Nia begged, hips bucking against his palm. He pulled back from Vaeloria just long enough to watch Seris choke on him, tears of effort and bliss streaking her cheeks. He came hard.... hot, thick ropes painting her face and tongue. "Now lick it clean... that’s an order." Seris shattered again.... another squirt soaking the clouds beneath her. "AHHH~ Yes, Your Majesty..." She licked him reverently... every drop, every inch.... until he gleamed. Then he pushed her onto her back and drove into her without warning. Two more hours blurred past. Seris broken and boneless. Nia and Vaeloria taken in every way they begged for (and ways they didn’t know to beg for), until all five women lay in a tangled, trembling pile of sated limbs and worshipful eyes. Ash stood over them with his wings spread wide, bronze skin glowing with sweat and power, blood-drop eyes soft now. He smiled. And the rose-gold clouds cradled them all like the gentlest, most possessive lover in existence. ---- After ten hours of unrelenting pleasure, Ash sat on the edge of the vast cloud-bed, wings folded loosely, bronze skin still glistening with sweat and the faint sheen of rose-gold light. Behind him his five lovers slept in a tangle of limbs and crimson-stained silk. Nia curled against Vaeloria’s back, Seris’s crimson hair spilled across Yonna’s thigh, Sonna nestled in the center with the softest, most peaceful smile he had ever seen on her face. The air still tasted of lust, love, and the faint iron-sweet scent of blood from playful bites. A status window floated before him. [Would you like to Bond with Seris Kaelthar and Yonna Voss?] [A/N: Most of Yonna’s Background was told in previous Chapters....] He smirked, it had been a long time since he’d forged new bonds... and with the plans already forming behind his blood-drop eyes, many more would follow soon. He confirmed without hesitation. The world rippled. Vision blurred, shifted, and reformed. --- He stood in a sunlit training yard of polished white stone, banners of azure snapping in a warm breeze. Before him was a girl no older than eighteen. She had fiery red hair tied in a high tail and amber eyes burning with youthful determination. He knew at a glance that it was Seris. A younger and softer version of her but already carrying the weight of legacy in her small shoulders. Two figures stood opposite her (parents, clearly). The father was tall, scarred, same crimson hair but streaked with silver. He looked down at her with proud satisfaction. The mother was more elegant, fierce, wearing the decorated armor of a retired general. Her rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder with a smile that couldn’t hide her satisfaction. "Seris, now that you’re eighteen and have trained for two years, it’s time to enter the Veloran Army," the father said, voice deep with approval. In just two years she had reached Early B-rank which was faster than either of them at her age. "Father, I won’t disappoint our family’s legacy," Seris replied, bowing slightly, her fist clenched over her heart. Ash could feel everything she was feeling in this moment... The words felt heavy, like a vow etched into her soul. She had spent those two years in grueling training—sparring from dawn to dusk, pushing her body beyond limits, learning tactics from dusty tomes in the family library. But deep inside, a flicker of doubt stirred: was she ready for the strife of Kingdoms.... where failure meant death, not just bruises? Her mother smiled, sharp and fierce. "Good, dear. Our family produces nothing but the finest Generals! We live and die for those we lead!" Seris nodded, the mantra echoing in her mind. The Kaelthars weren’t just soldiers; they were the backbone of Velora’s military, commanding legions in wars against rival kingdoms. As she hugged her parents’ goodbye, the carriage waiting to take her to the capital, she felt a mix of excitement and terror. The road ahead was unknown, but she promised herself she would rise—no matter the cost. After Seris memories ended his vision instant warped as he relived Yonna’s life. He watched as she clung to the side of Sonna as they grew up. How she was place on a pedestal since her awakening and even her lowest moments after the death of their parents. The memories continued to pan out week by week.... month by month. Right before Ash’s very eyes. The Veloran Army’s training camp was a far cry from the comfort of her family’s estate. Seris arrived at the sprawling barracks outside the capital, a sea of tents and practice fields under a relentless sun that baked the dirt into cracked earth. The air smelled of sweat, iron, and desperation—recruits from all walks of life, some nobles like her, but most commoners scraped from the streets or farms. Her Early B rank made her stand out, earning envious glares from the weaker C ranks and below, but also the scorn of instructors who saw her as a privileged brat. Her first day was a brutal awakening. "Kaelthar? That legacy means nothing here!" barked Sergeant Vorn, a grizzled High B rank veteran with a scar splitting his face. He forced her into sparring matches against multiple opponents; her red hair matted with dust as she dodged and struck. She won most, but the losses hurt—broken ribs, bruises that took days to heal, and the sting of failure. "You lead by example, girl, or you will die alone," Vorn growled after one defeat. Struggles piled on. The army was a machine of hierarchy and hardship; Seris started as a foot soldier in a platoon of a few thousand, marching through rain-soaked forests and blistering plains on patrols against border Kingdoms. Her first real fight came at twenty, when a Lyrion hit squad ambushed their unit. Chaos erupted—swords clashing, screams echoing through the trees. Seris cut down two attackers, her blade slick with blood, but watched a comrade die beside her, gutted by a spear. The guilt gnawed at her: could she have saved him? That night, alone in her tent, she cried for the first time, vowing to grow stronger, to command so no one under her died needlessly. Years continued to pass in a blink. At fifty-five, Seris stood on the blood-soaked sands of the Dawnspire Arena, a neutral ground between Velora and the neighboring kingdom of Caldris. The wager was simple: one duel, victor takes fifty thousand kilometers of land. Her opponent was Caldris’ champion, a Mid B-rank brute who wielded twin earth-axes the size of wagon wheels. Seris fought with fire in her veins and her father’s voice in her ears. She danced through collapsing stone spikes, let flames wreath her daggers, and ended it with a single thrust through the heart. The Caldris king signed the treaty with shaking hands while the crowd (half Veloran, half foreign) roared her name. Fifty thousand kilometers land, mines, and three cities now belonged to Velora. Seris returned home a hero, promoted to Major, the youngest in three generations. Her parents wept with pride. For one brief year, she believed war was just another game she could win. ’It always gets rough at a point, doesn’t it?’ Ash thought as he watched the times pass. If there was one thing he had learned through the many memories he’d watched. It was to never feel too high emotionally nor too low. It was weird to explain however, it seemed like a reoccurring theme.... when life is going well.... and these people felt like they were atop of the world... they would be humbled. He figured it was best to keep a healthy balance. Years Passed again.... Then Dravenholt came. Due south across the Ashfall Plains, ruled by the Iron Saint King, seven holy paladins, and crimson-cross banners. For two centuries now they had burned Velora’s border cities on holy days, retribution for sheltering survivors of the Red Monastery purge. When Seris was sixty, they declared open crusade. Her brother, Leik was twenty-five, Early B-rank, her shadow and her pride, marched with her legion. The first battles were massacres. Dravenholt paladins rode armored constructs that breathed sanctified flame. Their priests turned the sky black with ash-prayers that weakened Veloran troops. Seris watched entire companies burn alive, their screams drowned by hymns. At the Siege of Crimson Reach, Leik was captured during a night raid. Seris saw the paladins drag him away in iron chains blessed with anti-mana runes. She led the rescue herself as she stormed the enemy camp with two hundred volunteers, They breached the bastion under a moonless sky. And then.... The trap sprang. Paladins in radiant armor, priests chanting hymns that turned blood to acid in the veins. Seris carved a path of fire, ashes and corpses to the deepest cell. She found Leik alive (barely), chained to a crimson cross, skin flayed in sacred patterns. She cut him free.... however, when she did. A blessed lance took her through the heart from behind. The last thing she felt was Leik’s broken scream as the paladins dragged him back into the dark. She died on the cold stone, blood pooling beneath the crimson cross. There was no grave. No waiting. The moment her heart stopped, crimson flame and Ash erupted from the wound it was not wild, but controlled, disciplined, and furious. The lance melted into slag. Her armor re-formed around her body in plates of living fire and ash that cooled into blackened steel etched with glowing runes. Seris opened her eyes... now standing at the Early A-rank with power roaring through reborn veins. Leik was gone again.... dragged deeper by three paladins. Her rescue party lay slaughtered around her, holy fire still eating at their corpses. She stood alone in the cell.... alive, but utterly without hope. She carved a path out. Every corridor became a furnace. Paladins fell screaming, their blessed plate melting to their bones. Priests tried to bind her with chains of light that she shattered them with single swings and kept walking. She reached the outer gates as wings of fire appeared from her back for the first time and took to the sky. Behind her, the Bastion burned like a second sun. She flew through the night, tears hissing into steam on her cheeks, until she landed alone in the Veloran forward camp. Two hundred had marched in. One walked out. Leik remained in Dravenholt’s deepest cells. From that night forward, Seris Kaelthar became the Crimson General.... the woman who died for her brother and came back.... the one who would fight every war until the continent itself bled, who carried an Eternal Pyre Heart that was waiting for the day she needed to rise again. Three centuries of relentless war forged the Late A-rank legend Ash would one day meet... the fiery, unbreakable, and still searching for the brother she had failed to save...