—Year 312 of the Ascension of the Celestial Monarch—
"Oh, what troubles you, my lord husband?" asked Tess with a somewhat strange expression as she watched her husband, who seemed to be deeply reflecting on something while looking at a bookshelf in front of him.
"Nothing, Tess, I was simply thinking about things from the past," Ducanor murmured with a sigh as he observed his room with a nostalgic expression, reliving the past.
"You've been quite nostalgic lately. You don't even join the Knights of the Red Branch when they make their calls to arms, and you spend more and more time alone. What's wrong?" she asked somewhat worriedly.
Tess, who in herself had a beautiful appearance despite being over five centuries old, had a face marked with constant worry, although at this point she herself didn't know if it was for her husband or for her family's future. Ducanor's eyes had a baleful aura as he looked directly at a book titled Abominare di Malicia. Whenever he looked at that book, even the surface of its binding, he felt a chill despite having a noble lineage herself.
"These are dangerous times. The Celestial Monarch has withdrawn from government affairs, leaving them to the ambitious and stupid; soon a new era will begin, an era of conflicts," looking now at his wife, Ducanor, with a gaze that seemed to have lived several lives, murmured: "I fear for our children."
"Do not fear for them," Tess murmured as she approached her husband with a warm smile. She was the mother of the Lord of Ulheim even though Ducanor was not the father; he had raised him as his son and she had also given him beautiful children. "They are strong, we made them strong."
"Strength isn't everything," Ducanor growled, but smiled suddenly. "But you're right, we are strong. The Sect is strong and Pandamar is too."
A proud smile emerged on Tess's face at those words as she advanced toward her husband and suddenly hugged him from behind. The latter smiled knowing what that meant; after all, Ducanor Kal Arreus was known as "the Insatiable," and not for eating too much.
A wolfish smile materialized on Ducanor's face as he got rid of his clothes and kissed his wife. They had been married for years, but he had never stopped enjoying every inch of her body. To say that Tess was beautiful was simplifying the obvious; she was a beauty: golden hair tied in a ponytail through an aquamarine crystal bun, a face pale as snow, and thin blue lips. Her arms intertwined around his neck as they shared a passionate kiss; Tess's tits filled the palms of his hands as her light body leaned on him.
"Come on, darling, relax," Tess said suddenly as she pushed his body toward a chair forcing him to sit while she knelt in front of him.
Totally naked from the top half, and with her mature body at his complete disposal, she simply rattled his belt buckle to take out his manhood. "Let mommy take care of you."
And passing her tongue suggestively along the edge of his penis, she began to introduce the tip of it inside her mouth slowly, to then take it out and pass her tongue over the entire surface of his member. Tess's movements were quite suggestive; she grabbed her firm and round breasts, white as milk, which pressed against his penis as she let some saliva fall on it.
"Damn it, despite how uncomfortable it feels for you to call me that, it turns me on," Ducanor growled as he helped Tess mount his waist and then lower the last remains of the skirt that covered her lower part, letting his erect penis rub directly against Tess's lower entrance.
"Come on, darling, give me another child inside me," said Tess passing her tongue around his neck and lips, as she suddenly rubbed against his manhood, making her body redden even more, highlighting even more her beautiful face and body that was before him.
Licking his lips, he passed his hands from Tess's narrow waist to her ass, grabbing it firmly until leaving a mark of his fingers on her soft and elastic butt.
A warm moan escaped from his wife's lips, which were quickly covered by Ducanor's, who simply devoured her completely. At this point worldly worries had disappeared and the only thing left was desire, the simple and pure desire to possess her until both couldn't take it anymore...
In an instant, the foreplay ended and they simply started fucking like animals. Tess's up and down movements were as experienced as one could expect from a woman who had lived the time she had already lived. The sound of flesh colliding against flesh, and the sharp moans as well as Tess's sharp curses, spread throughout the room as if they were calls for help.
The bites, kisses, caresses, and even touching didn't end at any instant while Tess, who initially thought of satisfying her husband, simply fell into the carnal frenzy that sex meant. And the same could be said of the positions.
"Darling, harder, please, squeeze me more, yes, yes, yes, please, fill my womb," surprisingly, the mostly careful with her words Tess was quite talkative during sex, and especially when her hands were leaning on the wall while Ducanor penetrated her fiercely while spanking her fleshy ass.
"Do you want to change, darling, or do you want to continue a bit more?" Ducanor whispered mischievously as he passed his rough tongue over Tess's sweat-covered neck.
"Let's do missionary, darling, I want to rest my back a bit; I'm quite old after all," she said with a smile, as she lay on the soft fur rug of a Leo Sidhe.
"Sure, granny, come to me, give me a kiss to sleep," Ducanor mocked with a mischievous smile; despite more than five centuries of age, Ducanor didn't tire of teasing his dear wife.
"Shut up and just come in me, dummy," she growled as she spread her legs so he could enter more easily, before trapping him between them and pulling him toward her chest with her arms. "I won't let you go until you get me pregnant again."
"Be sure, I'll give you quintuplets," said the man buried in her bust, choked, as he tried to please his dear wife. And boy was she satisfied.
...
Ducanor remained analyzing the composition of the mysterious element with a somewhat serious expression; war always changed in its forms. Weapons, tactics, men, and even places; but normally the strength of one man cannot easily overcome that of a thousand, and if that happens, there are equal or more powerful warriors who can do the same. The saying of king against king, general against general, and soldier against soldier denoted that reality, but now he was seeing a weapon that could change that reality.
"Dark powder," growled Ducanor as he observed the substance in front of him. It was a granulated powder of dark gray hue, harmless at first sight, but in less than three centuries he had seen its sudden introduction in most armies across the entire eastern continent. Even Pandamar implemented it in its soldiers and siege weapons, hiring alchemists and sages to investigate and replicate it.
As he reviewed that, suddenly a small voice interrupted his thoughts: "Daddy, what are you doing?"
Turning his head, he saw a small shock of hair that barely exceeded a meter and a half; she was so small that he could easily lift her onto his shoulder.
"Nothing, Ilanthir, daddy was simply working," said Ducanor with a kind smile to his youngest daughter Ilanthir. As if she were a little angel, she smiled happily as she lifted an object she had hidden in her arm: a book titled The Dawn of Time.
"You're awake at these hours to read, mother is going to punish you," said Ducanor with a smile despite his tone of reprimand.
Containing an expression of sadness and rebellion, Ilanthir held out the book and said: "Daddy, then can you read it to me?"
"Sure, it's an ancient book, although more than a story, it's a tale. A story that is said ancient ancestors told their descendants at bedtime: the story of the Dawn."
"In very ancient times, so ancient that time didn't even govern creation uniformly, life proliferated. And among all that life there was a mysterious and immortal race that received the name of the Ancient Gods."
"An ancient race as well as immortal; most races in those times were far from the touch of eternal death. The Ancient Gods, as well as other races, were immortal and immaculate to the touch of death, this simply being a problem with a solution for the powerful Ancient Gods, who knew the mysteries of the soul and reached apotheosis."
"But ambition clouded their judgment and they engaged in an expansion of domination and conquests that led them to fight against the ancient Divine Dragon race, which would be the first step on their path to their end."
"The Dragon race, using their ancestral knowledge, modified the flesh and blood of some members of the Ancient Gods, and turned them into monsters, neither divine nor demonic, something intermediate."
"Thus the Hecatoncheires were born..."
When the words came, he suddenly felt Ilanthir's breathing become constant and peaceful.
Looking down, he saw his daughter's sleeping face, and couldn't help but feel warmth in his heart. And he couldn't help but promise himself that, even if it were against the legendary Ancient Gods or Divine Dragons, he would die for them.