Chapter 248: Chapter : 248 : To Albinos!

The backyard of the sprawling estate was bathed in the soft golden light of early morning.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves.

Aiden stood at the center of the gathered group, already dressed in the deep crimson-and-gold academy uniform.

Around him stood thirteen of his wives, each transformed by the same uniform into an arresting vision of coordinated elegance and raw sensuality.

The female version clung scandalously to their curves.

Luna clung to Aiden’s left arm, black hair spilling over the crimson velvet, her breasts straining the blouse.

Aethoniel stood shyly to his right.

Valeforia and Xylendra flanked them like dark mirrors—tattooed, voluptuous.

Thristle, Nyxion, Vegia, Arisha, Lysandra, Nayla, Selvara, and Zerra completed the circle, each radiating a different flavor of lethal beauty.

At the edge of the group stood the ones staying behind.

Edda and little Liri stood side by side.

Noir held Selvara’s hand tightly, whispering, “Be safe, Mama.”

Leona perched proudly on Lysandra’s hip, chubby arms wrapped around her neck, babbling happily about “Daddy and Mummy going to school like big kids.”

Ivy held Fluffynugget to her chest, “Onii-Chan, Onee-Chan’s, good luck!”

Serica and Vaara stood a step behind Edda.

Serica’s expression was calm, professional; Vaara’s was openly sulky—she clearly hated being left out.

Aiden walked toward Edda first.

He cupped her face gently, thumb brushing her cheek. “Don’t miss me too much, love.”

Edda’s mossy-violet eyes shimmered. She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him—soft, lingering, full of quiet devotion.

“I’ll try,” she whispered against his lips. “But you know I will.”

Serica stepped forward next. Aiden met her halfway, kissed her deeply. When they parted she rested her forehead against his.

“Bring glory,” she said simply.

Vaara was less restrained. She grabbed his collar, yanked him down, and devoured his mouth like she was trying to brand him. When she finally let go she growled, “You better come back with stories.”

Aiden chuckled, brushing a thumb across her lower lip. “Count on it.”

Zerra bounced forward, clapping her hands. “Okay! I’ll bring out the carriage! We can—”

Aiden raised a hand. “Wait.”

Everyone paused.

He looked around at the gathered wives, then at the open sky above the estate.

“I want it to be flashy,” he said slowly, a dangerous little smile curling his lips.

Lysandra tilted her head, Leona still balanced on her hip. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I want us to stand out.”

Luna’s grip on his arm tightened. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Good idea, Master.”

Everyone thought about a flashy way.

The crimson-haired dragon-girl blinked innocently, then tilted her head the same way a curious predator might.

“I can just turn into my dragon self,” she said brightly. “Veythar dragons are rare. Very rare.”

Aiden blinked. “You can do that?”

Venya looked genuinely surprised. “Yes? You… didn’t know?”

He turned to Luna. “Can you shift back to full wolf?”

Luna’s eyes widened. For a heartbeat her form blurred—human to something in between—then snapped back to human with a soft exhale of relief.

“I… I can’t,” she whispered. “And I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

Nyxion tried next. Nothing. She pouted happily. “Still stuck like this. Good.”

Leona giggled and tried too—nothing happened. She clapped her chubby hands in delight.

Aiden looked back at Venya. “Do it.”

Venya beamed.

The air around her shimmered.

A deep, resonant thrum rolled through the ground—not sound, but pressure. The grass flattened in a perfect circle around her. Edda instinctively pulled Liri closer; Noir’s eyes went wide; Ivy and Fliffynugget squeaked and dove into Edda’s cleavage for safety.

—

[VENYA: FULL BEAST FORM INITIATED]

[UNIFORM WILL BE SAVED AS PART OF THE SYSTEM SO IT RETURNS WHEN SHE REVERTS TO HUMANOID]

—

Crimson light erupted.

Venya’s petite body dissolved in a storm of scarlet scales and molten cracks.

Her legs thickened into powerful haunches; her arms stretched into massive, clawed wings; a long, sinuous tail whipped out behind her, tipped with a razor-edged spade.

Blackened bone spines erupted along her spine.

Her face elongated into a draconic maw filled with obsidian fangs dripping magma.

Twin horns—curved, wicked, crowned with crimson flame—swept back from her brow.

And then the wings unfurled.

They blotted out the sun.

A thunderclap of displaced air rolled across the estate as twenty-five meters of midnight-black-and-crimson dragon rose into the sky.

Venya’s form was nightmare made flesh: scales like cooled lava, glowing molten cracks running like veins of fire beneath, wings so vast they cast the entire backyard into shadow.

Her eyes—twin furnaces of molten red—fixed on Aiden with unmistakable adoration.

She lowered her massive head until her snout was level with him. Hot breath washed over the group, smelling of smoke and molten iron.

Aiden reached out and laid his palm flat against the scaled ridge of her nose.

“So that’s what system meant back in Chapter six,” he murmured.

Venya rumbled—a sound like distant thunder mixed with a pleased purr.

Luna laughed softly, pressing closer to Aiden’s side. “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s terrifying,” Edda whispered, clutching Liri tighter. But her eyes shone with awe.

Aiden turned to the others. “Everyone ready?”

Lysandra handed Leona to Edda, then stepped forward. “We follow your lead, Aiden.”

One by one the wives moved closer—some climbing onto Venya’s lowered foreleg, others simply stepping into the shadow of her wings.

Luna hopped lightly onto the ridge of Venya’s neck, perching like she belonged there.

Aethoniel hesitated, blushing furiously, until Aiden simply scooped her up bridal-style and leaped—landing lightly on the dragon’s broad back.

Thristle scrambled up next, laughing shamelessly. “Fuck yes—riding a dragon to school? We’re gonna make those stuck-up nobles shit themselves!”

Nyxion, Valeforia, and Xylendra climbed with grace. Vegia, Selvara, Arisha, and Nayla followed more carefully. Zerra whooped and cartwheeled onto Venya’s shoulder, nearly sliding off before catching herself.

Aiden settled near Venya’s neck, Luna tucked against his side, Aethoniel sat beside him. He looked down at Edda, Serica, Vaara, and the children.

Edda lifted her free hand in farewell, tears shimmering but smile steady.

“Be safe,” she called. “All of you.”

Vaara waved crisply. Serica blew a kiss, then made an extremely rude gesture that made Zerra cackle.

Noir waved solemnly. Leona blew giggled.

Aiden raised one hand in bye.

“See you soon.”

Venya’s wings snapped open with a sound like cracking thunder.

The downdraft flattened the grass in a perfect circle. Dust and leaves whirled. Edda’s hair whipped around her face. Liri clutched at her side.

And then Venya launched.

A single, colossal beat of her wings sent them rocketing skyward. The estate shrank beneath them in seconds. Wind roared past—sharp, exhilarating. Aiden tightened his grip on Luna and Aethoniel as Venya banked into a steep climb, wings cutting through clouds like knives.

Below, the countryside blurred into patchwork fields, rivers, distant mountains.

Luna laughed wildly. “This is insane!”

Aethoniel buried her face against Aiden’s chest, squeaking. “H-High! Too high—Husband—!”

Thristle whooped from further back. “Faster, Venya! Make those academy pricks piss themselves when they see us coming!”

Venya answered with a bone-shaking roar that rolled across the sky like summer thunder.

Aiden grinned into the wind.

“Hold on tight, girls.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the base of one massive crimson horn.

“Let’s go make an entrance they’ll never forget.”

Venya tilted into a shallow dive—wings half-folded, body arrow-straight—and the

Albinos School of Wizards & Witchcraft appeared on the horizon: towering spires of white marble veined with gold, floating islands ringed by waterfalls, bridges of pure light connecting floating lecture halls, the central courtyard already packed with arriving students and their ostentatious retinues.

Noble carriages pulled by spectral horses. Pegasi bearing arrogant heirs. Floating thrones carried by bound elementals. Silk banners snapping in the wind, each emblazoned with ancient crests.

Venya didn’t slow.

She dove.

The air screamed.

—

High above in the sky, a colossal golden eagle soared.

The beast was a family heirloom, bred for generations by the Voss bloodline: proud, majestic, and utterly loyal.

Atop its broad, feathered back, rode the twin heirs of House Voss.

Elarion Voss, the elder by mere minutes, lounged on her back like a king on his throne.

His white hair was cropped short and sharp—military neat, framing a face of aristocratic perfection: high cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips curved in perpetual cold amusement.

He wasn’t bulked like some brute; his body was the elegant ideal of an noble—lean, wiry, with the kind of understated muscle that hid beneath tailored clothes.

Beneath the crimson velvet blazer of his Albinos uniform, his abs were carved and firm, pectorals defined from years of dueling practice, but nothing screamed athlete.

Just effortless, aristocratic power. His ice-blue eyes half-lidded as he gazed at the woman in his lap.

Elara Voss—his twin, his mirror, his everything—straddled him shamelessly. Her long white hair, the exact shade as his, spilled like fresh snow over her shoulders, framing a face of breathtaking elegance.

The same sharp features softened into seductive femininity, full lips painted a deep crimson, eyes the same glacial blue now burning with possessive hunger. Her busty figure pressed against him—generous breasts that filled the velvet blazer, wide hips flaring out beneath the scandalously short pleated skirt. The uniform clung to her like a lover’s hands, thigh-high stockings whispering against his trousers as she ground down.

They were glued together. Her arms locked around his neck, fingers tangled in his short white hair. Her thighs clamped his hips like a vice. And her mouth—god, her mouth—was devouring his.

“Mmmph~… Dear Brother… your tongue… so deep…” Elara moaned into the kiss, her voice a husky whisper lost in the roar of the wind.

Their tongues slid together in a filthy, open-mouthed tangle—wet, hungry, shameless. She sucked on his tongue like it was his cock, moaning louder when he bit her lower lip and tugged.

Elarion’s hands weren’t idle. One gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place; the other was squeezing her breast.

He squeezed one roughly, fingers sinking into the warm flesh.

“Ahhn~! Brother—yes—squeeze my tits harder—fuck—my boobs are so sensitive today—nnngh~!” Elara arched her back, pushing her chest into his hand.

Her hips rolled desperately against the hard ridge of his cock straining through his trousers.

The eagle’s steady wingbeats made them rock gently, adding a rhythmic bounce that drove her wild.

The eagle banked gently, adjusting course toward the academy.

They stayed locked together for long minutes, panting, kissing lazily as the eagle began its slow descent toward the academy courtyard.

Elarion adjusted her clothes with surprising tenderness, smoothing her skirt—making sure no evidence remained.

“Behave when we land,” he murmured against her lips. “No one can know.”

Elara smiled, wicked and adoring. “Only for you, Dear Brother.”

The eagle descended gracefully, wings flaring to slow their approach. Elarion dismounted first—landing lightly before the beast even touched down—then turned and offered his hand like a perfect gentleman.

Elara took it, stepping down with a graceful smile, her white hair perfectly tousled, uniform immaculate. The crowd turned toward them. Nobles in their own extravagant mounts whispered furiously.

“Look—that’s Elarion Voss and his sister Elara. House Voss.”

“The twins are here. God, he’s even more handsome up close.”

The girls clustered together, fans fluttering. “Did you see how he helped her down? So chivalrous. And that eagle. They always make an entrance.”

“He’s so elegant. Short white hair suits him perfectly. Bet he’s got a body under that uniform…”

“Shh—his sister’s glued to him.”

Elarion offered Elara his arm. She took it, pressing close—innocent to the world, but her fingers dug possessively into his sleeve.

Then the shadow fell.

A colossal darkness swept over the courtyard. Heads snapped upward.

Venya—the Veythar dragon—blocked the sun entirely, wings like midnight sails, scales cracking with inner fire.

Elarion’s eyes narrowed.

Elara’s grip tightened.

—

END OF Chapter : 248 : TO ALBINOS!

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