...
{3rd Pov}
A few days had passed for Astreo after his rather heated encounter with Xyra.
Although they had not progressed any further beyond that point, the dynamic between them had clearly changed.
Their interactions had become noticeably more intimate, and the tension that had been building between them was no longer something either of them pretended to ignore.
During those days, Xyra had taken several opportunities to "spoil" him in her own way.
By the end of it, Astreo had ended up receiving three more rather enthusiastic handjobs and two very dedicated blowjobs from the ever-doting dragon matriarch.
Ahem.
Technically speaking, she was his wife, so calling her "Mommy" was not exactly inaccurate either.
After all, she definitely fit the definition of a very powerful and extremely attractive MILF.
Still, the title amused him more than anything else.
Regardless of the label, the encounters had clearly affected him.
After that experience, Astreo found himself becoming noticeably more open toward his cough female subordinates.
It was not as if he had suddenly changed his personality, but the subtle barrier he usually kept between himself and them had softened slightly.
Of course, he was not naive.
He already knew that many of them harbored some level of obsession toward him.
That was not accidental.
In fact, it was something he had carefully cultivated over time.
Sometimes he had trained them directly, sometimes he had simply allowed circumstances to develop in ways that strengthened their loyalty toward him.
Either way, the result was the same.
Obsession and devotion were among the most difficult emotions for a person to abandon once they took root.
If someone received even a small amount of appreciation every once in a while, it was enough to reinforce that attachment.
And if that appreciation increased over time—even slightly—then eventually the person would become accustomed to it.
By the time they realized what had happened, they were already too deeply invested.
At that point, the attachment was no longer optional.
It had become something they could not easily live without.
'Either that… or that person simply loses interest in you,' Astreo thought to himself.
If such a thing ever happened, then it was better for him to step back and stop getting involved with that person any further in that particular way.
At that point, he would simply keep them as one of his subordinates—just not among the preferred ones.
After all, being biased was simply part of human nature.
The real issue was not whether bias existed, but whether someone could control it.
As long as personal bias did not interfere with judgment, leadership, or decision-making, it was manageable.
Letting it take control of one's life, however, was a different matter entirely.
Astreo understood that balance very well.
Meanwhile, back in the Main Plane, Bo City was still in the process of being rebuilt.
Reconstruction efforts had begun almost immediately after the disaster ended, and news about the events that had occurred was spreading rapidly across the entire nation.
Various news channels were reporting on the incident continuously.
Naturally, the networks associated with Star Industries were doing their part to shape the narrative.
Their coverage presented the facts clearly, emphasizing how Star Industries and the Star Clan had played a major role in protecting civilians and rescuing survivors during the crisis.
However, they were careful not to portray themselves as untouchable saviors or divine protectors.
That would have been a mistake.
If the information was presented honestly and logically, then the intelligent people within China would be able to piece together the truth on their own.
Those capable of independent thought would understand the significance of what had actually happened.
As for the people who blindly followed propaganda without questioning it?
Astreo had little interest in them.
Frankly, he preferred those kinds of people to remain exactly as they were—uninformed and stubborn.
It was better if such individuals never joined his Clan or his Industries in the first place.
After all, an enemy that behaved like a tiger was predictable.
But a teammate who behaved like a pig? Or rather in China's own term a pig teammate.
That was far more dangerous.
'Chinese propaganda and the growing racism against foreigners in recent years has truly gotten out of hand,' Astreo thought to himself.
Ever since the events of the Great Depletion, and the subsequent rise of Star Industries and the Star Clan as a foreign power entering the power struggle among Chinese clans, hostility toward outsiders had reached an unprecedented level.
It was not entirely baseless.
After all, the European powers and several other nations had indeed played a significant role in the chain of events that led to the Great Depletion.
That conflict had forced China into a desperate situation, resulting in the mobilization of massive numbers of young mage students.
Hundreds of thousands of them had been drafted into military service, and a staggering number had died during the conflict.
The tragedy had left a deep scar across the country.
However, Astreo understood something that many ordinary people did not.
Blame had been redirected.
Rather than allowing public resentment to turn toward the Chinese government or the major domestic clans that had actually made many of the strategic decisions during that crisis, the higher authorities had intentionally encouraged propaganda targeting foreign nations.
It was a calculated move.
If the anger of the population could be directed outward, then internal accountability would never be demanded.
This was a common political strategy throughout history—redirect dissatisfaction toward an external enemy so that the public would remain unified against outsiders rather than questioning their own leadership.
By feeding that narrative continuously through propaganda, it became easier to maintain stability at home.
People were far more willing to hate distant foreigners they had never met than to challenge powerful figures within their own society.
Astreo knew the tactic well.
It was effective.
And unfortunately, it also meant that even individuals who had nothing to do with the original conflict were caught in the wave of resentment.
In fact, even several characters who were part of the broader story itself had not been spared from that growing hostility.
Although Astreo had never personally experienced racism or open bias from people like Mo Fan or Zhang Xiaohou, the same could not be said about everyone.
Mu Ningxue and Mu Bai were different.
Both of them belonged to the Mu Clan, a faction that had grown up surrounded by political influence and national sentiment.
From an early age, they had been exposed to narratives filled with resentment toward foreign powers—especially toward organizations like the Star Clan.
Because of that upbringing, their perception of outsiders had been shaped long before they even met Astreo.
In another timeline, things might have been different.
If the Great Depletion had never occurred, or if the Star Clan had never emerged as a powerful foreign faction interfering in the internal struggles of Chinese clans, then that hostility might never have developed.
Their attitudes might have been far more neutral, just like in the original version of the story.
But Astreo did not regret the changes.
If anything, the situation had proven useful.
It made things easier.
The tension and hostility acted like a filter.
It helped him identify which individuals were worth observing, recruiting, or investing resources in—and which ones were simply not worth his attention.
People who allowed blind prejudice to dictate their decisions were rarely useful allies.
In that sense, the chaos had its advantages.
…
"Aster, what do you think about this one?"
Lisa's voice broke his train of thought.
She was standing a few steps away, holding up a piece of designer clothing imported from abroad.
The situation was slightly ironic, considering the fact that they were currently inside a supermarket that belonged to their own company.
The entire building was part of a commercial complex under Star Industries.
Lisa turned slightly so he could see the clothing more clearly.
Astreo glanced over it for a moment.
Then his gaze shifted to another rack nearby.
"Hmm… I think I like that one much better," Aster said casually.
He pointed toward a red T-shirt layered with a matching hoodie.
"It has colors that I like more," he explained simply while continuing to look at it.
"Is that so? Very well. Please pack this one… and the one he liked as well," Lisa said calmly as she turned her gaze toward the shop manager.
The moment Lisa looked at her, the manager straightened her posture immediately.
She had been sweating the entire time Lisa had been standing inside the store.
"Yes, Ma'am!" the manager replied quickly, her tone sharp and disciplined as if she were responding to a military command.
The reaction did not go unnoticed.
Several employees nearby exchanged amused looks with one another.
The manager who normally behaved like a tyrant toward them—constantly issuing orders and scolding staff—was currently standing as meek and obedient as a frightened chicken.
The contrast was almost comical.
But if they were being honest with themselves, they were not much different.
After all, it was not every day that someone who literally owned the entire company—and therefore their workplace—walked into the shop in person.
Anyone would feel nervous in that situation.
Meanwhile, Lisa's attention returned to Astreo.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"By the way, Aster, why don't you try it on?" she suggested while gesturing toward the changing rooms located along the wall.
Her tone sounded casual, but the way she watched him made it clear she wanted to see how the clothes looked on him.
"Hmm… very well."
Aster nodded slightly.
"I want to try the red one first," he said while pointing toward the hoodie and T-shirt combination he had selected earlier.
He had always liked certain colors more than others.
Red was one of his favorites.
Black was another.
He also liked green and pink, and blue ranked fairly high on his list as well.
As for the other colors?
He did not particularly dislike them.
They simply were not to his taste, so he rarely paid attention to them.
Then, Astreo made his way into the lit changing room of the upscale boutique, the soft rustle of shopping bags accompanying his steps as he carried the stack of clothes Lisa had eagerly selected for him, his mind still buzzing from the casual outing that had felt surprisingly refreshing after days of intense Lord duties.
He was followed closely by Lisa, who trailed behind him with a determined stride, her mature figure clad in a fitted dress that accentuated her curves, and without a trace of shame or hesitation in her voice, she declared boldly, "You are my son, after all—I will just check how good it looks on you," her words carrying a mix of maternal protectiveness and something deeper, more possessive, that lingered in the air like an unspoken invitation, her eyes gleaming with a subtle intensity as she slipped into the confined space behind him, the door clicking shut with a soft finality that sealed them in privacy.
Astreo paused just before he could begin undressing further, his hand hovering near the hem of his shirt, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at her unapologetic presence, though he said nothing to protest, respecting the boundaries of their unique bond.
Lisa herself had been utterly shocked earlier that day when Astreo had agreed to accompany her on this shopping excursion, his casual agreement catching her off guard as he mentioned feeling unusually good and relaxed, a rare admission from the usually reserved Star Emperor.
This willingness to spend time with her was compounded by the nagging awareness of how intimately close he had become with that enigmatic black-haired mysterious maid in recent days—the woman who seemed to shadow his every move, lingering in hallways and attending to his needs with an almost obsessive attentiveness that stirred unease in Lisa's heart.
The maid's constant proximity, the way she hovered just a step behind him during meetings or private moments, had ignited a spark of jealousy that Lisa could no longer ignore, her womanly instincts whispering suspicions that their connection had deepened far beyond mere emotional ties, perhaps venturing into physical territories that Lisa herself had only dreamed of exploring with him.
This jealousy had festered quietly within her, amplifying her already complicated feelings for Astreo, a tangled web of emotions that defied simple categorization.
To the outside world, they presented as mother and adopted son, a facade of familial normalcy that shielded their true dynamic from prying eyes—the devoted guardian and her charge, bound by years of shared history and unwavering loyalty.
Yet, beneath that surface, he was her Lord, the mighty Star Emperor who had rescued her from despair years ago, pulling her from the brink of ruin and into the orbit of his power, the very man to whom she had pledged her utter loyalty and devotion, body and soul, in a contract that had reshaped her entire existence.
She had forsaken all other pursuits, abandoning any fleeting interests in other men, her heart and desires singularly focused on him, especially after his commanding words during their binding agreement—that she was his property, a declaration that had struck her like a thunderbolt, searing into her mind and igniting a fire of submission and longing that burned steadily ever since.
Now, witnessing him blossom into such a fine, commanding man—his frame filling out with the strength of maturity, his presence radiating an effortless authority—while she remained a mature woman in the prime of her allure, her body still curvaceous and inviting despite the passage of time, Lisa found herself grappling with an acute sense of unfulfilled yearning.
She had given up everything for him, her independence, her autonomy, all in service to his will, yet the question gnawed at her relentlessly: If she truly was his property, marked as belonging to him in every sense, why had Astreo not yet claimed her fully, in every possible way—physically, intimately, without restraint?
The thought haunted her waking moments, fueling a quiet desperation to bridge the gap between their roles, to transform their devotion into something more tangible, more heated.
That burning resolve was precisely why she was seizing this rare opportunity, these fleeting moments of solitude away from the palace's watchful eyes and endless responsibilities, to attempt drawing closer to Astreo, to test the waters of their bond and perhaps coax him into seeing her not just as a devoted figure from his past, but as a woman ripe for his touch.
As they stood in the narrow confines of the changing room, the air thick with the scent of new fabrics and her subtle perfume, Astreo meanwhile began the process slowly, methodically peeling off his T-shirt with deliberate movements, lifting it over his head to expose his upper half-naked body to the cool air, the fabric whispering against his skin as it came free.
Lisa's gaze locked onto him immediately, observing—no, devouring—the sight with unbridled intent, her eyes tracing the intricate contours of his muscles that rippled subtly beneath his skin, each defined line and bulge a testament to his physical prowess, honed by battles and training alike.
She watched the faint sheen of sweat glisten on his strong arms as they flexed with the motion, the way his broad shoulders tapered to a chiseled torso, every inch evoking a primal admiration that made her pulse quicken, her breath catching in her throat at the raw masculinity on display.
She bit her lower lip hard, the sharp sting grounding her swirling thoughts as a flush of heat crept up her neck, her body responding instinctively to the forbidden allure of the moment.
And as Astreo reached out with steady hands toward the pile of clothes she still clutched protectively against her chest—the jeans and shirts she had chosen with such care—she acted on impulse, doing something she hadn't dared in ages, her fingers intercepting his with a gentle but firm grasp that sent a jolt through both of them, her touch lingering just a second too long.
"You need to wear the jeans as well," she said, her voice low and laced with a husky undertone that betrayed her inner turmoil, "why don't you take them off as well and then slip into the new ones at the same time? It'll be easier that way, and I can help make sure everything fits just right," her words hanging in the charged silence, an invitation wrapped in practicality, her eyes meeting his with a mix of bold determination and vulnerable hope, the proximity of their bodies in the tight space amplifying the tension that crackled between them like unspoken electricity.
Although her suggestion sounded like a thinly veiled excuse, one designed to prolong their intimacy in this secluded space, Astreo caught the underlying hint immediately, his perceptive nature attuned to the subtle shifts in her demeanor and the way her voice had softened with unspoken desire.
With a subtle nod of understanding, he responded in a low, teasing tone that carried a hint of playful compliance, "If that's what you want, Mother, then sure—I'm all yours to guide through this," his words deliberate and weighted, choosing the term 'Mother' with intentional care, letting it roll off his tongue in a way that blurred the lines between their public facade and this private vulnerability.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of it, a sharp flutter echoing in her chest like a drumbeat of surprise and forbidden thrill, because while Astreo did occasionally address her as 'Mother' in official capacities—during formal meetings or public appearances where he played the role of her adopted son to maintain the illusion of normalcy—the rest of the time, in the quieter, more personal moments away from prying eyes, he simply called her by her name, Lisa, a simple utterance that kept a respectful distance between their complicated roles.
But right now, in the hushed confines of this changing room, with the air thick and charged between them, hearing him invoke that maternal title felt profoundly intimate, almost provocative, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within her that she had long suppressed.
Even if he was her Lord, the commanding Star Emperor whose authority she revered without question, Lisa couldn't deny the deep-seated maternal feelings she harbored for him, forged over years of watching him grow from a vulnerable child into the powerful man he had become—tending to his needs, offering guidance through his formative years, and cherishing the quiet bonds that had formed in the shadows of his rise to power.
She would not lie to herself about it; those feelings were real, a nurturing affection intertwined with her unwavering devotion, making this moment all the more intoxicating as it teetered on the edge of something deeper, more carnal.
Then, with a steadying breath, she watched intently as Astreo complied without hesitation, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants and sliding them down his legs in a slow, deliberate motion that exposed the taut fabric of his boxers clinging to his hips, revealing the unmistakable outline of his not-so-hidden boner straining against the material, a clear sign of his arousal that made the atmosphere in the small room grow even heavier with anticipation.
For a moment, she gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth in genuine shock, her wide eyes fixed on the evidence of his desire, unable to believe that her Lord—her Astreo—could be so visibly interested in her, a mature woman who had dedicated her life to him, yet never fully crossed this threshold until now.
The sight sent a rush of heat through her veins, validating years of quiet longing and making her question if this was truly happening, if the barriers she had built around her heart were finally crumbling under the weight of mutual attraction.
Then, gulping down her saliva with an audible swallow that betrayed her nervousness, she lessened the distance between them in the cramped space, her body drawing nearer until the warmth of her presence enveloped him, her curves brushing lightly against his exposed skin as she murmured in a voice husky with concern and invitation, "It seems you are hurting down there, my dear—let me see if I can ease that for you."
For a brief instant, Astreo wondered if she had picked up these lines straight out of some illicit pornographic scene he had once glimpsed in his private thoughts, the phrasing so direct and seductive that it bordered on scripted fantasy, yet he played along seamlessly, his own voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper that matched her tone, "I guess so, Mom—it really hurts, this ache building inside me… Can you help me make it better, please?"
His words hung in the air, laced with a mix of feigned innocence and genuine need, drawing her in further as the playful role-play deepened their connection.
The room, as it had been from the moment they entered, was long isolated from the outside world by a subtle weave of magic that Lisa had cast earlier—a protective barrier ensuring that no sounds, no whispers, no gasps would escape to interrupt their private matters, allowing them the freedom to explore without fear of discovery or interruption.
"Of course, my son," she replied sweetly, her tone infused with a tender affection that masked the simmering passion beneath, before her hand moved with tentative boldness toward his boxers, fingers grazing the fabric over his throbbing erection below it, then rubbing it gently in slow, circular motions that sent sparks of pleasure through him, the friction building a delicious tension.
She leaned forward then, closing the remaining gap, her breath mingling with his in the heated space between them, and Astreo didn't reject her advance—instead, he welcomed it, closing his eyes as their lips met in a soft, exploratory press that quickly ignited into something more fervent.
Both of them shivered at the contact, a shared tremor of electric anticipation rippling through their bodies as Astreo, this time taking the lead with a surge of confidence, parted his lips and extended his tongue to trace a warm, teasing lick along the plush curve of her red lips, tasting the faint sweetness of her lipstick and the salt of her skin.
Getting the cue without hesitation, she instantly opened her mouth to him, their tongues colliding in a heated dance that spoke of pent-up desires finally unleashed, saliva rolling freely between their mouths in slick, intimate exchanges as they engaged in a passionate kiss that deepened with every passing second, their breaths coming in ragged unison, hands beginning to wander as the boundaries between motherly devotion and raw, taboo hunger dissolved entirely in the magic-sealed sanctuary of the changing room.
Astreo's hands, driven by a surge of bold desire and the subtle hum of his innate magic coursing through his veins, moved with purposeful intent toward the front of Lisa's tailored suit, his fingers hovering just above the row of buttons that held her professional facade in place.
With a faint flicker of magical energy, the buttons popped open one by one in rapid succession, the soft clicks echoing faintly in the magically sealed confines of the changing room, revealing the soft, clinging fabric of her t-shirt beneath that accentuated the generous curves of her mature figure.
He grabbed at the hem of her t-shirt then, his touch playful yet insistent, fingers teasing and tugging at the material as he explored the warmth of her skin just below, sending little shivers of anticipation rippling across her body while their lips remained locked in that fervent kiss.
Meanwhile, Lisa's own hands trembled slightly with a mix of reverence and hunger as she reached down, her fingers slipping under the elastic waistband of his boxers to free his throbbing dick from its confines, the hard length springing forth into the open air of their private sanctuary, already pulsing with need from their heated embrace.
She wrapped her palm around it gently at first, savoring the velvety heat and the way it twitched under her touch, her grip firming as she began to rub it with slow, deliberate strokes that built a rhythmic friction, her thumb occasionally circling the sensitive head to draw out soft, involuntary groans from deep within his throat.
Thus, she jerked it with increasing confidence, her movements syncing perfectly with the passionate rhythm of their kiss, tongues entwining and exploring each other's mouths in a wet, sloppy dance that left trails of saliva glistening on their chins, their breaths mingling in hot, ragged bursts as the world outside faded into oblivion.
For a few intense minutes, they were utterly drowning in the depths of their shared lust, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the subtle musk of their bodies pressing closer, her free hand clutching at his shoulder for support while his explored the newly exposed skin of her chest, tracing the swell of her breasts through the thin t-shirt.
The taboo thrill of their roles—mother and son in this forbidden play—only heightened the fire burning between them, making every touch feel electric, every gasp a confession of long-suppressed cravings.
Astreo's mind raced with the intoxicating blend of power and vulnerability, his body responding instinctively as he shifted his hips forward, guiding his dick with a whisper of magic to position it snugly between the soft, yielding valley of her breasts, the enchanted force ensuring it stayed rigid and perfectly aligned in this provocative stance, the head brushing teasingly against her cleavage with each heaving breath she took.
He was teetering on the edge of release, the pressure building to an unbearable peak within him, when he finally broke the kiss with a gasp, his voice coming out in a strained, urgent whisper against her swollen lips, "Mom! I am coming—it's too much, I can't hold back!"
His eyes locked onto hers, purple depths filled with a raw, pleading intensity that mirrored the storm raging inside him, his hands gripping her shoulders as his body tensed in anticipation.
"Cum for me! Come all over your mommy's body, mark me with everything you've got!" she urged him on with a sultry command, her voice husky and dripping with encouragement, her tongue darting out to lick her lips in eager invitation, tasting the lingering flavor of their kiss as her eyes sparkled with wicked delight at the sight of his impending climax.
The words ignited the final spark, and his first powerful shot erupted forth, arcing through the air to hit her left ear, missing the lobe by just a fraction and splattering warm, sticky semen across the delicate skin there, dripping down in a slow trail that made her shiver with the intimate warmth of it.
Then, his second shot followed in quick succession, surging with even more force to land squarely on her parted lips, staining them with thick ropes of his cum that clung to the soft, red curves, some of it seeping into her mouth as she instinctively licked at it with a low moan of satisfaction.
The third shot burst out next, painting a generous streak across the exposed tops of her breasts, the white fluid contrasting vividly against her flushed skin and soaking into the fabric of her t-shirt, making it cling even more transparently to her hardened nipples.
The fourth shot returned to her lips once more, adding another layer of his essence that she savored with a hungry swipe of her tongue, while the fifth powerful eruption targeted her neck, the semen landing in a hot splash that trickled down toward her collarbone, marking her throat like a possessive claim.
Finally, the last one erupted with a shuddering finality onto her breasts again, completing the erotic canvas of his release across her body, leaving her glistening and marked in the most primal way.
He took a deep, shuddering breath then, his chest heaving as the waves of pleasure subsided, leaning his forehead against hers in a moment of exhausted intimacy, his voice soft and breathless as he murmured, "Mom… You are too hot, too everything—it's overwhelming how you make me feel like this."
The words carried a genuine awe, his hands still gently caressing her sides as he came down from the high, the afterglow wrapping around them like a warm blanket.
She smiled up at him with a radiant, satisfied glow, her eyes half-lidded with contentment as she extended her tongue to lick the semen off her lips more deliberately, drawing out the salty taste with deliberate slowness, savoring it as if it were the sweetest nectar.
"And you are too sexy for your own good… my precious son," she replied in a tender, affectionate whisper, her fingers still loosely holding his softening dick, giving it one last gentle squeeze before releasing him, the moment sealing their shared secret with a depth of connection that went beyond mere physicality.
Their small moment of unbridled lust ended like this, fading into a comfortable silence broken only by their slowing breaths, the magic barrier around the room holding their intimacy safe from the world.
Like always, Astreo didn't push this encounter too far, reining in his desires with a deliberate restraint born from his personal code and his strategic mindset—he wanted to savor these women slowly, to draw out the anticipation and build an insatiable craving within them for more of him, turning each stolen interlude into a thread that wove them tighter into his orbit, their longing growing with every teasing taste he offered.
To be continued...
(A/N: I'll keep this brief.
Updates, delays, and other information have already been communicated on Discord and sometimes within chapters.
Going forward, this fanfic will no longer be a primary focus and will be put on indefinite hiatus. There will also be a larger backlog on Patreon before chapters are posted publicly.
If this doesn't work for you, feel free to drop the story—there's no obligation to stay.
Thanks to those who continue to read and support.)