Chapter 79 - 13

The mid-afternoon sun warmed the grand glass arcades of the Apex Sovereign Estate, casting brilliant rainbow reflections across polished marble floors and water gardens. Arthur walked slowly through the wide, vaulted hallways of his private residence, his hands resting casually in his pockets. After three years of non-stop economic restructuring, political intrigue, and industrial expansion, his day-to-day schedule was completely clear.

For the first time in two lives, Arthur Vance was genuinely bored.

He strolled past the grand conservatory, listening to the echoing laughter and lively chatter originating from the central pavilion. Stepping onto the shaded terrace, he found his private council gathered together—though "executive meeting" was hardly the word for what was taking place. Without pressing corporate deadlines or strategic crises to resolve, the twelve women who helped run the continent were channeling their restless energy directly into competing for Arthur’s attention.

"Move over, Greta! You’ve been leaning on his desk all morning with those blueprints," Madame Vespera purred, her long, dark silk dress clinging tightly to her exceptionally voluptuous frame as she lounged on a velvet daybed. Her crimson eyes gleamed with playful malice as she twirled a lock of her raven hair around a manicured finger. "A true monarch needs dark wine and intellectual company, not the smell of forge coal."

Greta, the Dwarf forge-mistress, scoffed loudly, crossing her muscular arms over her unusually heavy, full bust, which strained against her leather vest. "Intellectual company? You just want to drop another silk robe in front of him, you undercity serpent! Arthur asked for the updated mana-engine specs, and I’m giving them to him directly!"

"Now, now, ladies, please..." Elaria, the high elf botanist, murmured timidly, her slender, elegant figure swaying gently as she adjusted a woven flower crown. She possessed a delicate, smaller frame compared to the others, her petite chest and slender waist giving her a soft, angelic grace. Her cheeks flushed a deep rose as she held up a basket of freshly harvested, spirit-infused strawberries. "Master Arthur mentioned he liked sweet fruit... I brought these specifically for him..."

"He’s the sovereign of the continent, Elaria, not a rabbit!" Baroness Ignis boomed with a hearty, melodious laugh. The mature dragonkin war-matron stood tall, her towering, deeply voluptuous figure—defined by a massive, sweeping chest, wide hips, and a long dragon tail swishing lazily behind her—radiating pure, dominant presence. She strutted forward, holding a heavy horn of mead, her fiery golden eyes locked onto Arthur the second he stepped onto the terrace. "He needs real meat, strong brew, and a woman who can handle a real battle in the bedchamber!"

"Ignis! Mind your language in the presence of the executive council!" Valerie, the former royal knight commander, snapped sharply. Her tall, athletic frame was impeccably toned, her tight white uniform emphasizing her firm curves and straight posture. Yet, despite her stern, disciplined nature, her ears burned bright red as her eyes darted toward Arthur, secretly adjusting her collar to reveal just a hint more skin.

The courtyard instantly degenerated into a chaotic, mesmerizing display of contrasting personalities and striking figures.

On one side sat the Halfling twins, Kaelen and Lilia—petite, adorable, and mischievous—giggling as they fed ripe grapes to Nisha, the fox-kin logistics director, whose plush tail swished back and forth while her lush, curvy body reclined against soft silk pillows. On the other side, Sylvia, the saintly former priestess with a strikingly soft, motherly figure, was quietly arguing with Celeste, the chief archmage, whose sharp, intellectual demeanor completely melted into flustered embarrassment whenever Arthur looked her way.

At the center of it all stood Lyra.

Dressed in an exquisite, fitted violet gown that accentuated her narrow waist, full hips, and breathtakingly voluptuous bust, the former slum girl held an absolute air of authority. Yet, as she watched Vespera and Ignis subtly position themselves closer to the archway where Arthur stood, Lyra’s violet eyes flashed with intense, possessive jealousy.

"All of you, quiet down!" Lyra called out, stepping forward, her cheeks burning with a mixture of pride and irritation. She puffed out her chest, her heart beating frantically as she turned to face Arthur. "Arthur is resting today! He doesn’t need all of you suffocating him with your... your shameless flirtations!"

"Oh? And I suppose you’re not planning to suffocate him yourself tonight, little CEO?" Vespera teased seductively, making Lyra’s entire face explode into a crimson blush.

Arthur leaned against a marble pillar, watching the lively, chaotic squabble with a faint, amused smile. Each woman possessed a wildly different nature—some timid and shy, others openly lusty and bold; some petite and delicate, others towering and intensely busty. Yet every single one of them was deeply addicted to his presence, fiercely jealous of his time, and utterly devoted to his happiness.

He walked into the center of the terrace, his smooth, effortless grace instantly drawing a complete, breathless silence across the entire pavilion.

Ignis grinned seductively, Vespera leaned forward with an inviting smirk, Elaria offered her strawberries with trembling hands, and Lyra quickly stepped to his right side, wrapping her arms around his elbow and pressing her soft, warm curves tightly against him to stake her claim.

Arthur reached out, gently patting Lyra’s hand before taking a strawberry from Elaria’s basket, making the elf girl gasp in delight. He looked around at the eleven incredible women surrounding him, his mind drifting back to his past life on Earth—where he had died alone in a cold suit, surrounded only by ambition and concrete skyscrapers.

Here, in the heart of the empire he had built from nothing, he had wealth beyond measure, absolute power, and a home overflowing with genuine life, passion, and devotion.

"Arthur...?" Lyra whispered, looking up into his eyes with sweet, breathless affection. "Is something wrong? You look like you’re planning something big again."

Arthur smiled softly, wrapping his arm securely around Lyra’s waist while looking out over his sun-drenched gardens.

"No, Lyra," Arthur said, his voice deep, calm, and entirely content. "For the first time in two lives... everything is perfect."