A few days later, the Ashland mines roared with activity again. The clatter of picks and hammers echoed through the craggy slopes, mingling with the squeal of cart wheels as ore-laden hauls rolled down into the loading bays. Glimmering veins of ore were being ripped from the stone by the ton. Iron, silver, even specks of rare crimsonite… and all of it was piling high in the sorting yards like a dragon's hoard waiting to be spent.
Lucien leaned over a large stone table set on a rocky outcrop overlooking the operation. The wooden surface was strewn with ledgers, notes, and fresh reports inked just that morning. Ignara stood beside him, arms folded, her expression firm.
"We're running at maybe fifteen percent of our actual export potential," she said flatly, flicking a finger across the calculations. "It's criminal. If we could move more of this ore, we could be swimming in gold. With better materials and imports, we could start producing advanced goods, maybe even weapons worthy of a demon army again."
Veyra, seated across from them with a quill behind her ear and her boots up on a barrel, nodded enthusiastically. "It's a waste letting all of this just pile up in vaults. Give me a proper workshop, and I can turn this excess into something special. Blades, armor, machines… maybe even magitek. Real Ashland craft."
X'zelle, lounging in the shade behind them with a book, looked up and smiled faintly. "She's right. I've seen what Veyra can build when she's let loose. If we started manufacturing here, we could become an arms exporter the other kingdoms couldn't ignore."
Lucien grinned. "Then I'll add it to the growing list of things we need… alongside better food, working plumbing, and a dragon escort."
Before anyone could say more, a sudden gust of air blew a flurry of papers off the table as two figures skidded to a halt nearby, panting.
A cloud of dust puffed up from the path as Vex and Vile sprinted toward them, arms overloaded with scrolls, tomes, and bundles of papers. Vile tripped halfway up the rise but recovered expertly, handing the stack off with a proud flourish.
"All the intel we could find," added Vile, beaming with pride.
"Got everything we could dig up on the territory outside the border," Vex panted, brushing her hair back. "Maps, old travel notes, adventurer logs, smuggler manifestos…"
Lucien took the documents eagerly, spreading a few of the larger maps out. "Give me the short version."
Vile sat down and bounced her foot, reciting from memory. "Not a kingdom, exactly. It's a collection of warring territories—city-states, tribes, warbands. No central rule except for a powerful warlord queen who holds them all in shaky truce."
Vex added, "She's brutal. They say she once executed twenty mercenaries just for arriving late to a meeting. Keeps everything together through fear and insane strength."
Lucien snorted. "Sounds like a lovely introduction to diplomacy."
Vile raised a finger. "Most of the population's beastfolk. Warriors, mercenaries, adventurers. Tough, proud, aggressive… and they hate the Ashlands. Their region always got hit first whenever a demon army marched."
Lucien sighed, rubbing his temple. "Perfect. Just perfect."
He stared at the maps a moment longer, then rolled them up and handed them back. "Start prepping a travel kit for me. Nothing fancy. No obvious Ashland markings, no enchanted cloaks with fire runes stitched into them. I want to blend in."
The twins saluted and scurried off, leaving a trail of fluttering parchment in their wake.
----------------
That night, the mine's administrative building was quiet, bathed in the soft flicker of mana-lamps. Outside, the work crews were off-duty, relaxing around campfires and telling crude jokes. But inside…
Lucien stood at the rear office desk behind Sila, the curvy, sharp-tongued head of the mining operation. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, legs parted and shaking as Lucien thrust into her from behind with a deep, practiced rhythm. Her glasses hinged on the tip of her nose as she whimpered numbers and production quotas between moans.
"Sixteen… p-percent… ugh… i-if we reroute the west shaft… ohhhh gods—" she gasped.
"You're doing so well," Lucien murmured into her ear while gripping her lower back tightly. "Keep going, darling. Let it all out."
"T-Twelve... point six percent yield increase... o-of mid-grade silver this w-week…"
Lucien chuckled, leaning over her, digging deeper. "Good girl. Keep it up."
Her legs trembled. "C-can't concentrate if you… ahhhh… do that with your hips."
"I believe in you," he whispered, hands trailing up to her breasts.
"Was I multiplying or… oh… ooooooh… too deep… too—."
Her body pulsed, her eyes crossed and she slumped forward onto the desk with a long, guttural groan.
Then, suddenly, the air in front of them shimmered.
A swirling vortex of dark magic snapped into existence, hovering above the desk. Ash-magic surged in waves as a glowing, semi-transparent orb bloomed open like an eye.
Lucien froze.
Sila's moans cut off in a sharp gasp as she stared at the orb in horror.
"...Did you do that?" he asked, panting slightly.
She blinked. "I thought my orgasm made me hallucinate it."
The orb twisted slightly. A faint outline appeared within… then a wizened old face emerged, gnarled with age and glowing with faint violet markings. A pair of cloudy eyes blinked.
"Is this thing on? Hello? Anybody there?" the woman's voice crackled.
Lucien, still deep inside Sila, hesitantly raised a hand. "Uh. Yeah. We hear you."
Her eyes focused on him. She gasped. "Ah! There you are! The Demon Lord himself. Tsk, tsk. You didn't even visit me first. I had to hear through rumors that you'd returned. And the things I've heard..."
She chuckled darkly. "Honestly, I didn't believe them. But now? Seeing you being balls-deep in your mine manager—"
Lucien cleared his throat, trying to hold in a laugh. Sila turned crimson.
The orb pulsed. "Well, now that I've seen your glorious return and your glorious ass, you best come visit me. Immediately. I don't care what else you're doing… well, finish up first, of course, no need to rush that." She winked.
With a crackle and a pop, the orb disappeared.
Lucien scratched his head.
There was silence.
Then he blinked. "Hmm. That was new."
Sila slowly turned her head, face pale as her knees buckled beneath her. "Lord Lucidius... t-that was the Void-Mother."
"Yes?"
"The actual Void-Mother."
"And?"
"She just saw us screwing!"
There was a long pause.
Then Lucien shrugged. "She didn't seem to mind."
And with a devilish grin, he gripped the back of Sila's neck, slapped her butt firmly and slid back into rhythm. "Now…where were we…"
She groaned, eyes rolling as she melted forward onto the desk again. "Oooooh gods… we're in so much trouble."