As soon as I return to the academy, I find the students in a flurry of activity, decorating halls and setting up tables. It doesn't take long to realize why—today is Lizzie and Josie's birthday. A smirk tugs at my lips. Of course, a celebration. But what kind of gift would truly suit them?
With a thought, I access my system shop, browsing through its near-limitless selection. Then I find it—the perfect present. Witch familiars. These aren't ordinary creatures; they are highly intelligent, capable of speech, and possess vast magical knowledge. Some are skilled in attack magic, others in defense, healing, or unique abilities that would prove invaluable. Most importantly, they will help Lizzie and Josie grow, drawing in magic from creatures and magical sources until they mature into formidable guardians. Yes, these will do nicely.
After securing the gifts, I lend a hand in the party preparations, but my mind is elsewhere. I seek out Penelope, and together, we hatch a plan for the night—a private celebration, just the four of us.
As the evening falls, the party begins, filling the academy with laughter and music. It's all rather tame, but that works to my advantage. I craft several clones of myself, each one pairing off with the women in my circle—Hope, Lizzie, Josie, Penelope, my three devoted maids, and the many girls I've encountered lately, including Emma. While they dance, I keep an eye on everything, making sure the night remains perfect.
Then chaos erupts.
A witch stumbles into the hall, wounded and breathless. Blood stains her robes. Before she can collapse, Mr. Saltzman steps in, catching her.
"She was ambushed," he announces grimly. "Zombies."
The word sends a ripple of unease through the crowd. Without hesitation, I take the injured witch to the infirmary, placing a hand over her wounds. Holy power radiates from my palm, golden light washing over her injuries, sealing them shut in seconds. The relief in her eyes is immediate.
Meanwhile, Alaric moves quickly, rallying the students to safety. Hope, Lizzie, and Josie take their positions, weaving their magic into a powerful barrier around the academy. From the darkness beyond, a horde of undead emerges—an ocean of rotting flesh and soulless eyes.
I step forward. This will not do.
Summoning the power of light, I condense it between my hands, the energy crackling with raw intensity. The air hums as I unleash the attack—a massive beam of light, roaring like a dragon's breath, obliterating everything in its path. The undead are turned to ash, the night sky illuminated by their destruction.
For a moment, all is still. Then, Alaric returns, dragging someone with him. A man, his skin gray and decayed, yet his eyes burn with cruel intelligence.
"He was bragging about being a great necromancer," Alaric states.
I don't hesitate. Grabbing the so-called necromancer, I haul him away, locking him inside one of the containment prisons designed for werewolves.
With that matter handled, I finally turn my attention to the real event of the night. I find Penelope, Lizzie, and Josie at the house where private parties are held. The anticipation in the air is thick.
Tonight is Josie's night.
To ensure privacy, I create an anti-magic barrier, sealing us off from the world outside.
The room was bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight, the air thick with anticipation. The bed, grand and draped in dark silks, stood waiting, and so did they—Lizzie and Josie, watching me, their breaths uneven, their bodies trembling with the weight of what was about to happen.
They couldn't run. Not with Penelope's magic binding them in place. But there was no fear in their eyes—only raw, unfiltered desire.
I stepped forward slowly, savoring the moment. My presence alone made them shiver, my skill *The Smell of the Beast* clouding their minds, drowning them in need. Their pupils dilated, their lips parted, bodies instinctively drawn to me.
"You feel it, don't you?" My voice was low, a deep vibration in the space between us. "That hunger. That desperation."
Josie swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling as she exhaled, "Yes…"
Lizzie, ever the defiant one, bit her lip, eyes flickering with challenge even as her knees grew weak. But her silence was enough. She wanted this just as badly.
With a smirk, I reached out, grasping the laces of Josie's corset. One sharp pull, and the fabric gave way, exposing the pale curves beneath. Her breath hitched, a delicious sound, as she pressed against me, her fingers trailing over my chest, hesitant but eager.
Lizzie, her fiery nature still smoldering, dropped to her knees. Her hands ran over my thighs, a slow, teasing touch, but I could feel her tremble. When she looked up at me, her lips slightly parted, her voice came as a whisper. "Let me have it."
I chuckled, dark and knowing. "Not yet."
Josie groaned in frustration, pressing her bare chest against me, her breath hot against my skin. "You're cruel," she murmured.
"I'm thorough," I corrected, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. "And I don't intend to let either of you walk away from this night without remembering exactly who owns you."
The bed creaked as I guided them onto the mattress, their bodies molding against mine, soft and yielding. Lizzie's lips found my skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses down my torso, her fingers working with urgency. Josie, breathless, tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me down into a kiss that was nothing short of desperate.
The sounds in the room deepened—gasps, moans, the rustling of silk sheets as bodies moved against one another. Every movement was deliberate, every touch designed to drive them further into madness. I controlled the pace, drawing out their pleasure, relishing every moment they begged for more.
Then, the door creaked open.
Penelope stood at the threshold, eyes dark with amusement and something deeper. She took in the scene—the candlelit room, the flushed bodies, the slow, rhythmic creaking of the bed.
Lizzie turned her head, her voice breathless yet teasing. "Are you just going to watch?"
Josie, lost in pleasure, could barely speak between gasps, her voice breaking into a moan as she arched. "P-Penelope… please."
Penelope smirked. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"
With that, she stepped forward, and the night descended into chaos—pleasure and dominance entwined, leaving nothing but the sound of moans and the relentless creak of the bed echoing through the candlelit room.
Morning came with a sense of satisfaction. The necromancer had played his little trick, deceiving Hope and slipping into her mind. As a result, he managed to revive Raphael's ex-girlfriend, Cassie, using her as a tool to steal the dagger. I could have stopped him—but where would the fun be in that? Letting him believe he had the upper hand amused me, especially when I saw the exquisite women he was bringing back to life.
I watched with mild interest as Cassie parted ways with Raphael by the lake, their unfinished business finally settling into silence. But the game wasn't over. Another woman appeared—a witch from the Bennett clan, a bloodline known for their mastery of mystical transport. Just as she began to move the dagger, I intervened, silently remaking their bodies in my world's image and ensuring they were now mine.
Elsewhere, my clone continued its work. It had been shadowing Landon and had tracked down his mother, Seylah, who had taken up a quiet life running a coffee shop. A quaint existence, but I knew better than to believe she had truly left her past behind.
Days passed before the clone brought me the real news—Seylah had drugged Landon and tied him to a chair. A smirk tugged at my lips as Hope frantically reached out to me, sensing that something was wrong. It was almost too predictable. We needed to act, but getting there required a bit of creativity.
With practiced ease, we stole Alaric's car keys, but he caught us in the act. Instead of stopping us, he decided to come along, clearly sensing that things were spiraling beyond his control. The three-hour journey was filled with nothing but lies and quick thinking—first finding a magic tracker at an elderly couple's house, then dodging questions from a shady company posing as a gas leak prevention unit. Alaric, ever the clever manipulator, passed us off as his children, buying us enough time to escape before things turned dangerous.
Finally, we found Landon in a rundown motel, his mother standing before him, cold and distant. The look on his face as she spoke cut deeper than any wound—Seylah claimed she didn't want him, that he was better off without her. It was a lie, of course. A pitiful attempt to push him away. Alaric saw through it instantly and pulled her aside for a private conversation, leaving Hope and me to deal with Landon's unraveling emotions.
I listened, offering just enough comfort to keep him from breaking completely. But as I did, something caught my attention—a foreign energy nestled within his backpack.
One of the artifacts tied to Malivore's awakening.
The pieces were falling into place faster than I anticipated.
Outside, Seylah tried to make her escape, attempting to steal her own car rather than go back inside for the keys and risk facing Landon again. Hope pleaded with her to stay, but the conversation was cut short when we were struck with tranquilizer darts.
Hope collapsed instantly, her body limp as she hit the ground.
I, however, remained standing.
The men who had fired the darts faltered, confusion flashing in their eyes. I didn't give them time to recover. With effortless grace, I lifted Hope into my arms, stepping toward Seylah.
"What you're trying to do is pointless," I told her. "Running won't change anything. You'll only get yourself killed."
Her breathing was ragged, her fingers gripping the car door like a lifeline.
I leaned in slightly. "Let me help you disappear properly. Landon won't forget you—he'll know he found you. But he'll also understand who he is. He'll be prepared for what's coming. And you? You'll be safe."
A long silence stretched between us before she finally nodded.
Without another word, I lifted her into my arms and flew into the night sky, opening a portal to my world. Once she was safely on the other side, free to explore and settle into the civilization I had prepared, I turned back, making my way to Hope.
She was beginning to stir, her eyelashes fluttering as she groaned.
Before I could say anything, we heard a commotion—Alaric and Landon shouting in alarm.
I rushed toward them, only to find a grotesque creature slithering from the motel's bathroom. It was something between a fish and a man, its slimy body reeking of sewage.
Alaric grimaced. "A newt," he muttered. "Or something like it."
Hope wasted no time. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the creature flying back into the bathroom. But an idea sparked in her mind.
"What if we let it take the urn?" she suggested. "It might lead us straight to Malivore's seal."
I considered it. It was a risk, but one that played well into my own plans. More importantly, agreeing with her only deepened the trust she had in me. And so, I nodded.
The creature grabbed the urn and darted off, forcing us to follow in Alaric's car. It should have been slower on land, yet it moved faster than a vehicle pushing 120 km/h.
We pursued it to Triad Industries, arriving just in time to see the newt nearing its destination. But something was wrong. Its body trembled violently, its flesh bubbling and distorting.
It was about to explode.
Without hesitation, I unfurled my wings, enveloping Alaric, Landon, and Hope just as the creature detonated. The shockwave rattled the ground, but I remained firm, shielding them from harm. When the dust settled, I reached down, retrieving the urn before tucking it safely away.
Hope, Alaric, and Landon lay unconscious at my feet.
Sighing, I lifted them with ease, placing them into the car before storing the vehicle within my inventory. Transforming into my wind dragon form, I took flight, my body blending seamlessly into the night as I carried them back to the academy.
By the time we arrived, Josie and Lizzie rushed forward, taking their father to his dorm. Raphael helped Landon, guiding him inside.
And as for Hope?
I carried her myself.
Because after everything, she was still mine to protect.
-
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