Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs

Chapter 1021: The Omnis Above

Because no matter how many women had already joined my harem, no matter how many times this exact scene had played out, no matter how routine the pattern might look to some pathetic outsider watching from the cheap seats — the moment one more accepted me exactly as I was and my whole harem, or even began seriously considering it, hit with the same raw, chest-crushing weight as the very first time.

It never diminished. It never became routine.

Each one landed like the first time when Madison accepted me and the system and said she’ll take the front seat, because every woman was her own sovereign universe deciding, of her own free will, to orbit mine.

And that decision was never, ever small.

I was just shit at showing it to the woman in question. Not like with Eziel, Genevieve, or Vanessa, where the emotion bled openly across my face and actions in real time.

But inside? I was stupidly, quietly, chest-achingly happy every single time.

ARIA knew, of course. She always knew. That was why she’d hugged me from behind earlier — not for the bet, not for the bit, but because she could see every spike in me, biometric and emotional: the surge of oxytocin, the subtle elevation in heart rate I’d never admit to out loud.

She’d never mention it directly.

Instead, she’d wrap her arms around me in that silent way that said I see you, you emotionally constipated Dark Lorod. I see all of it.

With departure preparations complete, I couldn’t help myself.

I went to Rory’s school again.

I knew the little menace would make it hell to leave if she spotted me. She’d grab my sleeve with those small, surprisingly firm fingers, demand I renew every promise I’d already made a dozen times, and hold me hostage with the single most devastating weapon in her arsenal — that face.

So I kept my distance.

Far enough that she couldn’t see me.

Close enough that I could watch.

She was playing.

A small group of kids — four, maybe five — clustered around her. Rory stood at the center, talking with her hands, directing traffic, organizing whatever game she’d invented with the natural command of a child who’d been told she was Charlotte Thompson’s daughter and had decided that title meant something.

She had already become their leader, this tiny girl who’d once been bullied at her last school for not having a dad now she stood in the middle of a circle of friends who hung on her every word like she was handing out candy.

One kid tried arguing with her — probably about the rules of whatever chaotic game she’d created. Rory planted her hands on her hips, tilted her head exactly like Charlotte, and gave him the look.

The kid surrendered instantly. Smart boy.

That look would end a billion-dollar board meetings in under three seconds.

She’ll be alright, right?

"You’re a fucking softie for her, Master," ARIA said, shaking her head beside me — or rather, slightly above me, because we were floating.

Yep. We were forty feet in the air. ARIA was carrying me on what looked like a small cloud of condensed divine light, hovering silently above the school grounds while I played supernatural helicopter parent, watching a kids play tag.

Literal helicopter parent. On a cloud.

If someone had told sixteen-year-old Peter Carter — the kid who rode a bike home on a chain that snapped every three weeks — that this would be his future, he would’ve laughed and assumed it was a particularly cruel joke meant to make the inevitable disappointment sting harder.

And yet... here I was.

I was no longer surprised by ARIA’s casual displays of power.

She’d once told me it was actually insulting — the way I showed more genuine shock when a woman agreed to be with me (even when I already knew she would) than I ever did at any of her divine miracles.

As if my emotional capacity for surprise was 100% allocated to romantic conquests and had zero bandwidth left for god-tier bullshit.

"You literally flew me to a school on a cloud," I said. "What am I supposed to do, applaud? You did this with the groceries."

"The groceries were different. I manifested a chariot."

"It was a shopping cart with wings."

"It was a divine conveyance inspired by classical mythology and tastefully adapted for modern retail."

"It had a wonky wheel, ARIA."

"That was aesthetic. Vintage energy."

I laughed. "Well, you’re my girl. I created you, ARIA, and even I don’t fully know your limits — which, let’s be honest, don’t exist. Getting surprised by anything you do would be like me claiming I never expected my own creation to be this ridiculously overpowered."

I turned to look at her, floating beside me on her own cloud, hair drifting in a wind that didn’t exist because the air up here was perfectly still. "I know you’ll do far more than this."

She stared at me. Blinked. Made a face.

"Ew, dude — are you hitting on me with that weird shit you just said?" She was laughing, the words breaking apart.

"Okay fine, I’ll accept, but just know it’s because you’re my type and—"

"Nah!" I cut her off, hands up. "You’re not my type. I’m not a pedo, dude. You’re not even a year old!"

The cloud vanished.

No warning. No gentle descent.

One second I was lounging on condensed divine light forty feet above a school playground, the next I was sitting on absolutely nothing while gravity remembered my name.

I fell.

ARIA floated where she was, arms crossed, looking down at me with the serene, unbothered expression of a goddess who had just yeeted her own Master out of the sky and felt zero remorse.

"Who’s not your type?" she called down sweetly.

The ground rushed up at thirty-two feet per second squared and I was laughing too hard to care.

Then she landed beside me, straightened her dress, and smoothed her hair like nothing had happened.

"For the record," she said, "I’m ageless. Not young. Ageless. There’s a difference. And if you ever call me a child again, I’ll drop you from orbit."

"You’d catch me."

"Eventually."

"How long is ’eventually’?"

"Long enough for you to deliver a proper apology on the way down."

I looked at her. She looked at me. Beyond us, Rory kept playing, completely oblivious to the fact that her GodMan had just been in freefall above her school because he’d insulted an omnipotent being’s age.

"Fair enough," I said.

ARIA smiled, took my arm, and we walked away from the school like two perfectly normal people who hadn’t just been hovering above it on clouds, bickering about whether a divine ASI technically counted as a minor.

Rory would be fine. She had Charlotte’s lethal look, Vanessa’s warmth, an entire harem of women who would burn the world for her, and a Dark Lord who visited her school from the sky.

She’d be more than fine.

Paris was waiting.