Chapter 265: Chapter : 265 : Chaos In The Prayer Hall!

The prayer hall erupted into pandemonium the instant Aiden’s mana flow completed its miracle.

Where a single glowing seed had rested in his palm moments ago now stood a towering, living tree—permanent, unyielding, rooted deep into the white marble floor. Cracks spiderwebbed outward from its base like lightning frozen in stone, yet the tree itself radiated serene power. Its trunk was thick. Blossoms opened in impossible fractal patterns—each petal a different hue, layered in hypnotic symmetry—yet the entire structure pulsed with unbreakable stability, as though it had always belonged there, as though the hall had been built around it centuries ago.

It did not shrink. It did not fade. It simply was.

The commoners reacted first—pushing forward in a stunned, reverent wave.

A freckled boy dropped to his knees at the base, reaching out with trembling fingers to brush the bark. “It’s… real,” he whispered, voice cracking. “It’s still here. It’s not disappearing.”

His friend stood beside him, pressing a palm flat against the bark. “No shit… Lord Aiden grew it. And it’s staying. Feel that? It’s warm. It’s alive. Like it’s breathing.”

Liana laughed—half-hysterical, half-awed. “I thought it was just a fancy light show. But no. He literally grew a tree. A whole damn tree. In the prayer hall. On holy ground.”

The whisper became a roar.

More commoners surged forward—touching the trunk, the roots, the leaves—careful, almost worshipful.

“It smells like fire and forest and stars at the same time!”

“The leaves are moving even though there’s no wind!”

“Look at the blossoms—each one’s a different color! Crimson, emerald, violet, sapphire, gold… it’s impossible!”

Commoner girls were the loudest—pushing through the boys, forming a tighter circle around Aiden and his wives.

“Lord Aiden, marry me!” one shouted, hands clasped under her chin.

“Marry me too!” another cried, elbowing her friend aside.

“Me! Pick me!”

“No—me first! I can cook! I can fight! I’ll do anything!”

“I’ll share! I don’t mind sharing!”

“I’ll fight you for him!”

They started shoving—half playful, half feral—voices overlapping in chaotic desperation.

Aiden smiled nervously—arms instinctively tightening around Luna and Selvara as the circle closed in.

Luna bared her teeth—ears flat, tail thrashing like a whip. “Get away! Master is mine!”

She pressed her whole body against his side—breasts squishing hard against his arm, hips grinding possessively. “Back off, all of you!”

Selvara’s wings flared wide—shadows rippling menacingly across the marble. “Get lost,” she hissed, voice low and venomous. “He belongs to us. Touch him and I’ll rip your throats out.”

Thristle stepped forward—purple skin gleaming, grin feral. “Anyone who wants him goes through me first. And I bite. Hard.”

Nyxion’s tail wrapped around Aiden’s leg like a possessive chain. “Heart Lord isn’t for randoms. Back off.”

Lysandra placed herself calmly in front of the fangirls—golden hair catching light like a shield. “Ladies. Personal space. Now.”

Nayla laughed—low, throaty—leaning against Aiden’s back. “They’re cute. Desperate, but cute.”

Valeforia smirked darkly. “Let them try. I’ll enjoy breaking them.”

Xylendra and Venya simply stared—silent, intimidating.

Aethoniel hid behind Aiden’s shoulder—wings buzzing nervously. “T-Too many people…”

Zerra bounced excitedly. “I wanna fight them for Hero! Who’s first?!”

Vegia waved her hands frantically. “P-Please calm down! This is a prayer hall!”

The fangirls only got louder.

“I’ll be his fifteenth wife!”

“No—sixteenth!”

“I don’t care about the number—I just want him!”

Across the hall, nobles stood frozen—faces pale, mouths open in disbelief.

“How…” one boy whispered. “How could a mere commoner do that?”

“Just who is he?” another hissed.

A noble girl clutched her friend’s arm. “This can’t be true. Lord Elarion can’t lose. He can’t.”

“He won’t,” her friend snapped. “That mud-blood cheated. He had to.”

“That tree… it’s still there. It’s not vanishing. How is that even possible?”

Elara shifted closer to Elarion—pressing her massive breasts against his back, arms wrapping around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. She joined the noble girls’ chorus—voice sharp and venomous.

“Yes, he cheated. He had to. No one is stronger than my brother. Right, Dear Brother?”

Elarion didn’t reply.

He stared at the towering tree—its roots still embedded in cracked marble, its canopy brushing the stained-glass ceiling, its impossible blossoms slowly opening and closing like breathing lungs. His fingers closed around his own seed—crushing it into black powder that drifted to the floor.

Teeth gritted. Jaw clenched.

“Aiden Nightshade,” he said—quiet, lethal. “This hasn’t ended. I will not lose to you. Mark my words.”

Elara heard the promise in his voice. She kissed his cheek—soft, possessive. “Yes, my Dear Brother. You can. You will.”

Ela Voss stood apart—amethyst eyes wide, staring up at the permanent tree in open awe.

*Just how strong is he?*

She swallowed hard—heart pounding in a way it never had before—feeling something warm and dangerous bloom in her chest.

Suddenly the crowd parted—someone sprinting through the commoner girls with surprising speed.

Mira Hale burst into the circle—brown bun coming undone, hazel eyes shining with tears of joy—and threw herself at Aiden’s side. Her massive breasts squished against his side as she hugged him tight.

“I—I’m… so… so… so happy,” she stammered, voice cracking. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Luna’s ears flattened instantly. “You—”

Before she could yank Mira away, another figure darted through the crowd.

Elira Nystovia—High Nun, daughter of the High Priestess—ran straight to Aiden’s other side and hugged him just as fiercely, pressing her voluptuous body against him.

“He is mine,” she declared—voice trembling but firm. “Let go of him.”

Mira blinked—still clinging. “Huh? Since when, you nun?”

“I am his fiancée,” Eliylra said, chin lifting defiantly.

The commoner girls froze.

Then screamed.

“Fiancée?!”

“I want to be his fiancée too!”

“Me too!”

“No—me!”

The circle devolved into chaos—girls shoving, shouting, some laughing, some crying.

The nobles stood frozen in their neat rows, faces a gallery of stunned disbelief and awkward horror. Mouths hung open; eyes darted between Aiden, Mira, and Eliylra like they were watching a public execution turn into a scandalous orgy. No one spoke. No one moved. The usual smug sneers and whispered insults had vanished, replaced by the collective expression of people who had just witnessed the natural order of the world crack in half and fall on its face.

One noble boy—pale, gold-pinned collar—finally managed a strangled whisper to his friend. “What… what the hell is happening?”

His friend didn’t answer. He just stared, cheeks slowly turning the same shade as his house crest.

Another girl said, “This… this can’t be real. A professor? And a nun? Hugging him like—like tavern wenches?”

No one laughed. No one even tried to laugh. The awkward silence was deafening.

Elowen Voss, however, had reached her limit.

Her emerald eyes blazed with barely-contained fury as she watched Mira press her massive breasts against Aiden’s side and Elira nuzzle his chest like a lovesick puppy. *Fiancée?* she thought, nails digging crescents into her palms. *What in the nine hells is that nun babbling about? And Mira—that treacherous bitch—what does she think she’s doing? Throwing herself at a student like some desperate whore in front of the entire first-year class?*

Her lips peeled back in a silent snarl. *I will have both of them stripped of their positions. And him—him—I’ll see him broken and expelled before the week is out.*

Elira looked up at Aiden— eyes wide and innocent, cheeks flushed with holy adoration. “Sir,” she whispered, voice trembling with emotion, “tell them. You love me, right?”

“Yes,” Aiden replied without hesitation, voice calm and certain.

Eliylra beamed—radiant, almost glowing—rubbing her cheek against his chest like a cat claiming its territory. “God, thank you. I am so happy today.”

Mira’s head snapped up—hazel eyes flashing. “What about me?” she demanded, voice cracking with needy indignation. She pressed closer, breasts squishing harder against his side, completely forgetting she was still technically a professor in front of hundred students.

The entire hall stared at her—nobles in open shock, commoners in delighted scandal.

Aiden looked down at her—then smirked, slow and teasing. He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear, voice low enough for only her to hear.

“You’re my bitch.”

Mira’s cheeks exploded scarlet. “S-shut up!” she hissed, but her thighs clenched involuntarily, fresh heat pooling between her legs as Aiden’s earlier load shifted inside her.

Lysandra—standing calmly beside Aiden—tilted her head toward the other wives. “Should we pull them apart?”

Nayla chuckled low—blue-tinted lips curving wickedly. “Leave it. Let them fight over him. It’s entertaining.”

Thristle grinned, cracking her knuckles. “I say we let them tire themselves out. Then we remind them who he really belongs to.”

Selvara huffed—wings twitching. “Tch. Disgusting. Both of them are clinging like leeches.”

Luna pouted—arms tightening around Aiden’s neck. “Master is mine first! They can wait their turn!”

Nyxion’s tail swished possessively around his leg. “Heart Lord doesn’t need more clingy women. He has us.”

Venya rumbled softly. “But… they smell like him now. Like they belong.”

Valeforia smirked. “Let them beg. Makes it more fun when we claim him back.”

Xylendra simply watched—silent, amused.

Aethoniel peeked out from behind Aiden’s shoulder. “T-They’re really loud…”

Zerra bounced excitedly. “I wanna fight the professor for Hero! She looks squishy!”

Vegia waved her hands frantically. “P-Please don’t fight in the prayer hall! That’s… that’s not holy!”

The commoner fangirls were still shouting—now with renewed fervor.

“She’s his fiancée?!”

“I can be a fiancée too!”

“I’ll be his side fiancée!”

“No—main fiancée!”

“I don’t care—I just want to be in the harem!”

Elowen’s patience snapped.

She stormed forward—students scrambling aside like frightened birds.

“Professor Mira!” she barked, voice echoing off the marble. “Unhand that student at once! This is indecent! You are a faculty member—act like one!”

Mira pouted—reluctantly loosening her grip—but her fingers lingered on Aiden’s arm, reluctant to fully let go.

Elira didn’t budge— eyes defiant, arms still wrapped around Aiden’s waist.

Aiden—trapped between two women, surrounded by screaming fangirls, with his wives glaring protectively—just sighed.

Then laughed—low, amused, utterly unbothered.

“Well… this escalated quickly.”

—

END OF Chapter : 265 : CHAOS IN THE PRAYER HALL!

—

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep