Chapter 123 - - 123 - Shadows of Betrayal and Desires [R18]

Chapter 123: Chapter - 123 - Shadows of Betrayal and Desires [R18]

Erion, Elaria, and Zyrelle stood waiting outside the private bedchamber of Erion’s mother, their shadows stretching long against the polished corridor walls. They hadn’t been waiting long when the space in front of them shifted. It didn’t take Lucien even a minute to arrive; he simply appeared, as though distance and space meant nothing to him.

The moment he entered the corridor, the surrounding atmosphere shifted dramatically. The air grew heavy and thick, pressing down on everyone present like an invisible weight that made breathing feel like an effort.

Zyrelle had never seen Lucien in person before. This was her first time laying eyes on him, but the second he materialized, her instincts screamed that he was no ordinary individual. Golden hair fell past his shoulders in smooth, shining strands, framing a face carved with sharp, flawless precision. His piercing golden eyes seemed to look straight through everything in their sight.

He... is Lucien Vale from Valtheria, Zyrelle thought, her chest tightening as her heart raced against her ribs. He really is anything but ordinary. He is so... handsome... No, stop it. Control yourself, Zyrelle. You have a fiancé. You can’t act like this.

She tried to regain her composure, stealing another quick glance at him before turning her gaze away. Beside him, Erion usually looked handsome in his own right, even as a mortal without cultivation, but with Lucien standing in the same corridor, Erion was entirely overshadowed. The stark contrast made him look like a weak, ordinary mortal, completely dwarfed by Lucien’s supreme aura.

Ignoring the tense silence around him, Lucien walked forward into the room and seated himself on a heavy high-backed chair. He didn’t just sit; he leaned back with a relaxed, domineering presence, looking every bit like an emperor resting upon his throne.

"So, what happened now?" Lucien asked, his tone flat and devoid of expression. "Did your mother wake up from her slumber?"

"I called you for the exact same reason," Elaria answered, stepping forward with a cautious look.

"What happened?" Lucien asked.

"I’m afraid my mother has lost too much of her cultivation over the years," Elaria explained, her voice trembling slightly with concern as she held up a small glass bottle filled with dark liquid. "She is in an extremely weakened state. If I give her something as potent as this antidote, what if her body can’t handle the power? What if something bad happens to her?"

Lucien remained silent for a moment, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he considered her words.

"Show me the antidote," he said.

Elaria offered the small vial to him. Lucien looked at the dark liquid inside for a second, then casually waved his hand. A small ripple distorted the air beside him as he reached directly into his void dimension, pulling out another vial.

It looked like something pulled straight out of ancient mythical legends. The small glass bottle pulsed with a luminous, pure golden liquid that cast a warm glow across his fingers. Holding the golden vial over Elaria’s antidote, Lucien unstoppered it and let a single, solitary drop fall into her bottle.

The instant the golden drop touched the liquid, a quiet reaction occurred. The dark mixture transformed on the spot, shifting into a brilliant, glowing light blue that hummed with pure energy.

"...This should be good," Lucien muttered quietly, as if simply talking to himself.

"What did you mix into it, Lord Lucien?" Elaria asked, her eyes fixed on the glowing blue liquid with lingering concern.

Lucien’s lips curved into a faint, nonchalant smile. "Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything poisonous. The liquid I added to yours can stabilize virtually anything. Just one drop is enough to balance this potion so her body can process it safely. It will also help restore her cultivation, strengthen her physical body, and reinforce her bone marrow so she can easily endure the antidote’s effects."

Elaria stared at the bottle in her hands, her eyes wide with shock. "What is the name of that potion? I’ve read descriptions of something like it in ancient books, but I’ve never seen it in real life."

"It’s called... Heavenly Marrow," Lucien said casually, leaning back into his seat.

The room fell into absolute silence. Erion, Elaria, and Zyrelle all froze, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Every elven cultivator knew what Heavenly Marrow was. It was a legendary, priceless essence that could only be harvested from ancient, supreme beings. They had heard rumors that Lucien had recently ventured into the perilous depths of the Hollow of Ten Thousand Forms dungeon, but no official word had ever spread that he had actually succeeded in harvesting its ultimate treasure. Yet here he was, casually dropping it into a basic cure.

"Lord Lucien... we could never pay you back for something like this," Elaria said, her voice shaking with awe and gratitude. "And you just used it on this potion..."

"Well, I promised you that I would help wake your mother up," Lucien replied smoothly.

"No... My Lord, our deal was only for the blood of Prince Rumil to complete the potion," Elaria clarified, feeling the massive weight of the favor he had just granted.

"Is that so? Then maybe I forgot," Lucien said lazily. He let out a soft laugh, waving his hand as if he couldn’t care less about wasting a drop of a legendary artifact. "Well, whatever. I can’t exactly take the drop back now, can I?"

Elaria felt a wave of profound relief and gratitude wash over her. She smiled warmly and turned back toward the bed. Erion and Zyrelle immediately moved closer, standing near the bedside to watch, while Lucien remained seated in his chair, watching the scene with indifferent eyes.

Unstoppering the vial once more, Elaria gently lifted her mother’s head and poured the bright blue antidote down her throat.

The moment the liquid was swallowed, a soft light burst from the woman’s frame. Her skin glowed with a divine warmth, as though light from the heavens was pouring directly into her veins, restoring her drained vitality and cleansing her body.

Slowly, her mother’s eyelids fluttered open. Her pale eyes gradually focused, landing on the young woman holding her hand tightly.

"Elaria...? Is that you?" her mother whispered weakly, slowly sitting up in the bed.

"Yes, Mother!" Elaria cried out, tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

Erion couldn’t hold back any longer. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, hugging his mother tightly against his chest.

"You two have grown up so much," their mother murmured softly, raising her frail hands to gently stroke both of their cheeks. She looked between them with deep affection before asking, "How did you manage to cure me, my daughter?"

"Mother, sister learned everything about poisons and alchemy just to find a cure for you," Erion explained eagerly. "And a very powerful Lord helped us get what we needed."

"Yeah, he’s sitting right over—" Elaria started, turning around to point toward the heavy armchair.

The chair was completely empty. Lucien was already gone, having vanished without making a single sound.

It was approaching midnight, but inside his private chambers, Prince Andrin was finding it impossible to sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, his mind was instantly invaded by vivid, terrible images. He heard agonizing screams echoing through his head and saw rivers of fresh blood. It felt as if he was slowly losing his sanity. But what terrified him even more was something far darker—a quiet, twisting feeling deep inside his chest that seemed to enjoy the carnage. It felt like a dormant, violent part of himself was waking up, a dark urge that had been lurking within him.

Unable to handle the oppressive silence of his room, he decided to go talk to Aelene.

He needed to lighten the heavy burden pressing down on his mind. More than anything, he wanted to avoid doing something stupid that would turn another powerful country into his enemy. He convinced himself that if he went to her right now and confessed everything that was happening to him, she would understand.

Yeah, that would be much better, Andrin thought to himself as he walked down the dimly lit hallway. If I tell her everything, she’ll help me. She’s the only person I can truly trust right now. She’s so pure... I just wish I could go back in time and tell her how I really felt about her. If I had confessed my love in the past not anne, maybe things would have turned out so much better.

He paused outside her door, his mind racing with bitter regrets and desperate hopes.

If only she wasn’t tied to Prince Rumil, I could have taken my chance with her... Maybe I still have a chance? Ha... I’m being way too positive right now. I need to focus on how to save myself first. I feel like I’m slowly transforming into a demonic realm master...

Andrin stepped closer to the double doors leading into Aelene’s private quarters. He raised his hand to knock, but stopped when he heard muffled, wet noises coming from within the room.

He knocked gently anyway. "Aelene... are you still up? I want to talk to you about something..."

No one answered, but the subtle, rhythmic sounds from inside didn’t stop.

Noticing that the door hadn’t latched completely shut, Andrin reached out and pushed it open an inch. He leaned forward and peeked through the narrow crack.

The scene inside froze the blood in his veins.

His pure, untainted Aelene was down on her knees on the cold floor, still wearing the exact same elegant dress she had worn earlier when she had met with him. Sitting comfortably in her chair was Lucien, resting back like a bored monarch.

Wh-what are you doing, Aelene? Andrin’s mind shrieked in total disbelief. You have a fiancé... Why are you betraying him? Why are you betraying me?!

Aelene was completely consumed by the man in front of her. Her mouth was wrapped tightly around Lucien’s massive, imposing weapon, taking the thick length as deep as she could manage while her slender fingers continuously stroked and rubbed his shaft. Her lips slicked his skin as she slurped against him desperately. Lucien merely sat there, propping his cheek up on his hand in an attitude of supreme boredom, watching her struggle.

She bobbed her head down rhythmically, trying over and over to force his massive size past her lips, but his length was far too overwhelming for her mouth to take in more than half.

"Ahhh... It’s so huge..." Aelene gasped, pulling back slightly with wet lips, her breath coming in heavy panting sounds. "Sometimes I feel like... how would Besriel even take this inside her core..."

"She already did," Lucien said calmly, his tone completely nonchalant.

"Wh-what? She took this monster in her core?" Aelene’s eyes flashed with intense rivalry, her voice laced with desperation. "I can’t let her beat me..."

Determined, she took him back into her mouth with renewed fervor, her throat visibly expanding as she tried to force him deeper. The thick, throbbing veins of his shaft pressed heavily against the roof of her mouth and her tongue, reshaping the contours of her throat as her slender fingers caressed and stroked his hard length as if it were a divine treasure to consume.

Overcome with needy excitement, Aelene stood up on trembling legs and climbed onto Lucien’s lap, straddling one of his heavy thighs.

Lucien casually reached out, his long fingers gripping her hip securely before sliding his hand deep beneath her dress. His broad palm rested high against her inner thighs, rubbing the delicate, burning skin in lazy, deliberate circles, coming agonizingly close to her core without actually touching it.

Outside the door, Andrin’s grip on the frame tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Who... who is this man? he thought, his vision swimming in the dark corridor. The shadows around the desk obscured the man’s features, making it impossible to clearly see who held her. Should I confront her...? But do I have any right to confront her? Maybe... maybe I placed way too much trust in a whore like her.

In an instant, every trace of gratitude he felt toward her for saving his life withered away. Bitter betrayal kindled a dark, suffocating flame deep within his chest, feeding the sinister demonic presence taking root in his soul.

Inside, Lucien’s hand remained pinned under her skirt, his fingers continually gliding over the smooth, sensitive skin of her thighs. Aelene squirmed helpless against his grip, shifting her hips obsessively, practically begging for his hand to move just a fraction higher to relieve the throbbing ache between her legs.

Finally, Lucien shifted his hand upward, pressing his palm flat directly over her core. It was completely drenched, dripping wet like a flowing fountain and heat radiated off her through her silk undergarments.

Lucien leaned close to her ear, his cold breath brushing against her skin. "Someone is way too excited," he whispered smoothly, before sinking his teeth lightly into her delicate elven ear.

Aelene gasped at the sharp prickle of pleasure, her fingers instinctively reaching down to touch herself, but Lucien instantly clamped his hand over her wrist, pinning it away.

"Don’t," Lucien said, his tone authoritative and unyielding. "You don’t have any right to touch what’s mine."

Outside the door, Andrin couldn’t stomach the sight for another second. He turned on his heel and fled down the dark hallway, his heart completely devoured by the cold, malignant shadow growing within him.

"Please touch it... Ahhh... touch my core, it’s too much..." Aelene whimpered desperately, squirming on his thigh the moment the subtle sounds of footsteps faded completely.

"Well, it seems like he is gone," Lucien said quietly.

Aelene paused, looking at him with flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. "Do we have to stop?"

"I would love to play with your core," Lucien murmured, leaning closer to her ear once more, his voice dropping to a smooth rumble. "And reshaping it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Lucien pressed his fingers firmly against her dripping core, rubbing her softly in slow, circular motions. A sharp, irresistible wave of pleasure rippled through her entire frame, her divine essence immediately overflowing from her core and wetting her lips. Whether Lucien’s words carried magic or his fingers held absolute mastery, her body surrendered completely.

Without wasting another moment, Lucien stood up, leaving Aelene slumping back into the chair, completely spent and content, her breath ragged as her core throbbed with residual ecstasy.

"I should go now," Lucien said, looking down at her coolly. "It seems like he is going to do exactly what I wanted from him."