The moment Ye Fan and his rebels vanished into the spatial rift, the colossal Qi Luck Dragon of the Dynasty dissolved into shimmering motes of light, its purpose served. The oppressive weight lifting from Netherwater City was met with a profound, trembling silence.
On the tower, the silver fire in Su Wan's eyes extinguished. The immense power flowing through her—the borrowed might of the Ancestor, the crushing weight of the Dynasty's karma—vanished, leaving a void more profound than any exhaustion. The fake nascent soul within her dantian fell dormant, its purpose fulfilled.
Her body, pushed far beyond its natural limits for the first time since her reforging, simply gave out. The magnificent Phoenix armor seemed to become a mountain of lead upon her shoulders. Her legs buckled. The world tilted, and the edge of the tower roof rushed up to meet her.
There was no fear in her fall. Only a vast, empty stillness. The image of her son's face, so full of pain and unwavering love, was the last thing in her mind before the darkness claimed the edges of her vision.
She did not hit the cold, hard stone.
A pair of small, impossibly strong arms caught her effortlessly midway through her fall. The scent of ozone and ancient power filled her senses. Lu Tian had been watching the entire battle, a spectator to his own masterpiece, and now he claimed his prize.
He held her limp form against his chest, looking down at her pale, beautiful face. Her brow was furrowed even in unconsciousness, a ghost of the turmoil she had endured. A slow, deeply satisfied smile spread across his boyish features.
"My beautiful, diligent Empress," he murmured, his voice a fond whisper. "You performed exquisitely."
He did not descend to the ground. Instead, he stepped onto a platform of solidified air, holding her as if she weighed no more than a feather. With a thought, he teleported them both directly into the opulent silence of the Phoenix Chamber.
He laid her gently on the bed of spirit-silk and moonweave. With a wave of his hand, her magnificent battle armor unwove itself into threads of light and vanished, leaving her clad only in a thin, sweat-dampened underrobe. Her body, the vessel of his heir and his most potent symbol, was revealed once more—the elegant arc of her waist, the proud swell of her hips, the two perfect, lush mounds of her breasts rising and falling with her shallow breath.
The Ancestor did not summon healers. Her exhaustion was not a malady; it was a state to be savored and rewarded.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his glowing green eyes tracing the lines of her body with possessive appreciation. He began with her hair, stroking the damp strands from her forehead with a surprising tenderness. Then his fingers trailed down, tracing the delicate shell of her ear, the line of her jaw, the pale column of her throat.
"You pushed yourself so hard for me," he crooned, his voice a hypnotic melody. "You faced down our wayward son. You summoned the very luck of our empire. Such devotion deserves a reward, does it not?"
His touch grew more intimate, more claiming. His palms cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead in a kiss that was chillingly paternal. Then to each of her closed eyelids, as if blessing the sight that had been denied to her. His lips traveled down, finding hers. The kiss was deep and lingering, not one of passion, but of consumption, as if he were drinking the last dregs of her expended energy, tasting her absolute submission.
Su Wan began to stir, a soft moan escaping her lips. Consciousness returned not with a jolt, but as a slow drift back into the gilded reality he had crafted for her. The first thing she saw was his face above hers, his expression one of adoring approval.
"Master...?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"Hush, my love," he whispered back, his lips moving to her neck, planting soft, biting kisses along its sensitive length. "You have done well. You have pleased me greatly."
His hands, which had been so gentle on her face, now moved lower with deliberate intent. One hand slid down her body, over the silk of her robe, to rest possessively on the curve of her hip, fingers digging in just enough to remind her of his strength. The other hand rose to her chest.
He did not grope or maul. He handled her with the expertise of a connoisseur. His fingers traced the full, heavy weight of one breast through the thin fabric, circling the peak until it tightened into a hard bud against his palm. A breathy gasp escaped her lips, a mixture of residual weakness and traitorous arousal. He gave the same devoted attention to its twin, his touch a masterful blend of reward and reassertion of ownership. He was playing his favorite instrument, reminding it of its purpose and its master.
"Your son fought well," he murmured against her skin, his words a carefully chosen poison. "But he is blinded by the witch. He could not see the mother who loves him. He only saw an enemy. A pity."
The words, paired with his intimate touch, reforged the reality he wanted her to believe. The conflict became not a tragedy, but a necessary hardship inflicted upon her by Ye Fan's delusion.
Tears welled in Su Wan's eyes—tears of exhaustion, of confusion, of a twisted sense of validation. She arched into his touch, her body responding to the stimulus he commanded even as her heart ached.
"I... I only wanted to save him," she breathed.
"And you will," the Ancestor promised, his voice dripping with dark certainty. "In time, he will see. And he will kneel before his magnificent mother, the Phoenix Empress, and beg for his place in our family."
He continued his ministrations, his hands and lips worshiping the body that had served him so perfectly, weaving a new layer of devotion from the threads of her physical and emotional collapse. The System chimed softly in his mind, a notification of increased synchronization and stability between them.
The battle outside was over. But here, in the quiet of the chamber, the Eternal Goblin Ancestor was securing his most important victory yet, ensuring his Empress remained his most perfect and devoted possession.