Chapter 72:
The Riverlands, banks of the Red Fork. Night, at the encampment.
Outside, the lingering cold from the North was enough to crack stone, but inside Victor's heavy command armored vehicle named "Sovereign," the temperature was so high it felt almost suffocating.
The vehicle's interior was originally quite spacious, but after cramming in boxes of classified documents, two low-frequency telegraph machines, and three individuals with extremely powerful presences, the air felt as if it had solidified into thick amber.
Sansa had finally grown tired. After the bloodline awakening and the long, bumpy journey, she curled up on the soft couch at the rear of the compartment, hugging a specially made constant-temperature hot water bottle, and fell into a light sleep. Her long hair, interwoven with ice and fire, spread across the bedding. Her breathing was steady, yet even in her subconscious she radiated an icy aura that kept others at a distance.
At the front of the compartment, however, the scene was entirely different.
Victor sat at a walnut folding table, studying the leather map Solokhun had brought under the dim glow of a tungsten lamp.
Solokhun sat right beside him, close enough for Victor to smell the strange fragrance on her body — a mix of ambergris and some spice scorched by intense flame. It was dry, scorching, and aggressive.
"My lord, the red dots on this map mark the nine remaining 'R'hllor altars' on the entire continent."
Solokhun's slender fingertip traced across the map and finally stopped at the location of King's Landing. Her voice was soft, like a feather brushing against Victor's eardrum. "Margaery Tyrell is a clever girl, but she doesn't understand… money can only control people's hands and feet, while faith and shadow can control their hearts."
Victor did not look at the map. Instead, he turned his head toward her.
At this distance, he could clearly see the massive ruby at her throat rising and falling with her breathing. It seemed as though real lava flowed inside the gem. As the distance between them shrank, its pulsing grew faster and faster.
"Are you telling me your god can help me print money?" Victor raised an eyebrow, his gaze carrying the playful scrutiny of a superior examining a plaything.
"Gods do not need money. Gods only need… a host."
Solokhun suddenly turned sideways and placed her right hand on Victor's shoulder. The fabric of her red robe was very thin. Victor could feel the heat radiating from her fingertips — not normal human body temperature, but a high heat capable of scalding skin.
She slowly leaned in, her red lips almost touching Victor's earlobe. Her breath carried an intoxicating, scorching dryness.
"Melisandre, that conservative woman, is always searching for the 'Prince That Was Promised.' But I am different. I have seen you, Victor… You are not the prince. You are the fire itself."
Victor suddenly reached out and seized her slender yet scorching wrist.
Their eyes met. Victor's violet eyes burned with dominance and conquest, while Solokhun's red eyes blazed with mad adoration and desire.
"Are you trying to seduce your emperor, priestess?"
Victor's grip tightened as he pulled her sharply into his arms.
Solokhun let out a suppressed gasp and smoothly straddled Victor's lap. Her tight red robe outlined her breathtaking curves. She cupped Victor's face with both hands, her fingertips tracing his firm jawline before stopping at his lips.
"An emperor does not need to be seduced. An emperor only needs to be… offered."
The ruby in her eyes flared with brilliant light. The illumination inside the entire compartment seemed to be swallowed by this red glow.
Victor's palm slid across her supple waist and finally pressed against the ruby pendant at the back of her neck. A jolt of electric pleasure shot straight up his spine to his brain.
At this moment, the freezing wind howled outside the vehicle and the tracks screeched against the ice, but inside this small steel-enclosed private space, the cold metal seemed to have melted.
Sexual tension stretched to its breaking point.
Victor could feel Solokhun's body trembling — the instinctive shudder of someone facing absolute power. She was not afraid of Victor. She was craving to be completely shattered by this "steel-like will."
"Not here. Sansa is sleeping."
Victor's voice was hoarse, but he did not push her away. Instead, he kissed down her neck.
"She cannot hear. The Lord of Light has veiled her senses."
Solokhun whispered as she began to unfasten the complicated buttons of her red robe, revealing the fiery red silk beneath. "My lord, let me see just how scorching that legendary 'bloodline' is — the one that can even conquer true dragons…"
[System Notification: Solokhun's favorability is rising rapidly!]
[攻略 Progress: 35%… 45%… 60%!]
[Shadow magic and the host's internal fire element are resonating.]
[Warning: This female character possesses the "Shadow Sacrifice" constitution. The first union will trigger a high-tier reward.]
Victor no longer hesitated. He pressed her down onto the table covered with maps.
The maps crumpled and tore beneath them.
All the symbols representing schemes, war, and territory were cast aside in this moment.
Inside this small, steel-wrapped private space, there were only heavy breaths, the clash of metal, and a red glow burning hot.
…
The next morning, the convoy set off again.
When Sansa woke up, she felt she had slept unusually deeply. She hadn't even noticed the jolting of the wheels.
She looked at Solokhun sitting across from her.
The red priestess now had a flushed, satisfied complexion as she toyed with her ruby. The gem seemed even brighter than yesterday, glowing with a subtle luster called "satisfaction."
Victor, looking refreshed, was reviewing a system report on the [Shadow Drive Stealth Coating].
Sansa sniffed the air in confusion.
"Victor, why does the compartment smell… burnt?"
Victor put down the report and calmly pointed at the corner of the leather map on the table, which had been singed.
"Oh, I was studying the map too intently last night. The cigarette butt accidentally fell on it."
Solokhun heard this and the corners of her mouth curved into a playful arc. She gave a provocative glance at the pure "Mother of Winter," then turned to look out the window, her fingertips gently touching her still slightly swollen lips.
The silhouette of King's Landing was already faintly visible on the distant horizon.
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