After a quick tour of the temple—which mostly involved Vicky pointedly ignoring the various orgies happening in every available corner while I proudly pointed out which spawn came from which divine creampie—I led her out into the open air of my domain.

The sky was a perpetual, beautiful twilight, painted in shades of purple and pink, the suns—a pair of twin orbs, one gold, one crimson—hanging low on the horizon. The land itself pulsed with life, a lush, vibrant landscape of impossible flora and fauna.

“Wow…” Vicky breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. “You really did build your own world.”

“Told ya,” I said smugly, my chest puffing with pride. But then I realized that Lilith gave me this world so…

“Well, sorta,” I corrected myself. “A sexy succubus queen gave me the keys.”

“Let me guess,” Vicky smirked. “You fucked her into submission.”

“Maybe,” I grinned.

“Of course you did, you horny bastard,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Only you would dare to fuck the queen of the succubi.”

“Correction,” I said, flicking my hair over my shoulder like the smug deity I absolutely was. “I didn’t just fuck the queen of the succubi. I married her.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I know.” Vicky’s grin widened. “You and Lilith are two sides of the same horny coin.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t,” she said instantly. “It wasn’t.”

“It counts,” I insisted.

“It absolutely doesn’t.”

“Already engraved it into my ego,” I declared proudly. “Too late.”

Vicky snorted, a sharp, amused sound as she crossed her arms, leather creaking. Her eyes scanned the horizon again—the glowing orchards, the rivers made of probably milk or semen, the distant mountain range that looked suspiciously like a sleeping giantess. But beneath the awe, I could see the calculation. The analysis.

“So, this whole place,” Vicky started, her boots crunching on the dark, crystalline path, “it’s just one big fuck-fest with your name on it?”

“Pretty much,” I replied, tossing my hair over my shoulder with a smirk. “But it’s also a sanctuary. A breeding ground—literally—for power, pleasure, and everything in between. Every inch of this land is infused with my essence. And now, I guess, yours too.”

“Mine?” She stopped walking, turning to face me with a raised brow. “You’re sharing this sandbox with me now? Didn’t think you were the generous type, Morgi.”

I shrugged, my gaze drifting over the horizon where a flock of winged spawn soared, their scales glinting like molten metal.

“Let’s just say I’m feeling… nostalgic. Having you back, it’s like I’m whole again. Plus, I can’t wait to see what kind of chaos you’ll stir up here.”

Vicky’s lips curled into a wicked smile, her crimson eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Oh, I’ve got ideas. But first, I wanna meet more of these ‘children’ of yours. See what kind of fucked-up family tree we’ve got growing here.” She started walking again, her stride confident, already looking like she owned the place.

“Alright,” I said, falling into step beside her.

Since the celebration orgy just died out, most of the residents were still resting beneath the World Tree, sprawled across its roots like lazy lions after a kill—or a thousand climaxes.

The branches towered above us, impossibly vast, dripping with glowing nectar that fell in slow, syrupy droplets. Some hit the ground with a soft splat, immediately sprouting flowers far too suggestively shaped to be accidental.

Vicky’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the sprawled bodies, their skin glistening with sweat and the remnants of their passion, their chests rising and falling in a unified rhythm.

“Damn,” she whispered, her voice filled with genuine awe. “You really went all out.”

“It’s a family tradition,” I said with a grin. “Every birth, every milestone, every Tuesday, really—we celebrate.”

“Every Tuesday?” Vicky arched a brow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “So you mean every day?”

“Every day is a Tuesday in my world,” I declared. “Now shut up and meet your nieces and nephews. Or brothers and sisters.”

“…”

Only three people were still awake, or at least, conscious enough to notice our arrival: Sukal, Leaf, and Arwen.

Sukal refused to participate in the orgy; he wanted to save his seed for me. What a nice guy,

I mean horse.

Both.

Leaf was busy caring for two lovely elf babies. Our daughters. She gave birth when I was away in Augusta’s dead world. I could see the love and devotion in her eyes as she cradled them close. My heart swelled with pride and love.

‘I have to pay Leaf a visit later,’ I told myself. ‘A long visit.’

My land is receiving tens, if not hundreds, of newborns every day, and it pains me that I don’t have time or the means to be closely present in their lives.

And lastly, the lovely elf Arwen was sitting alone under a weeping branch, reading something in her notebook.

What a workaholic.

“Arwen,” I called, catching her attention.

Her head snapped up instantly—sharp, alert, like she hadn’t actually been relaxed at all. Her hair, long and silver-blonde, fell like a curtain to one side as she stood, closing her notebook with a soft thwip. She lifted her glasses—yes, magical immortal elf goddess secretary glasses, fucking love them—and peered over the rims with that cool, unreadable stare she had perfected.

“Morgana,” she greeted, bowing her head just slightly; respectful, but not submissive.

“And…” Her eyes flicked to Vicky, scanning her up and down with the precision of a surgeon assessing a strange organ left on her desk. “A new face.”

“A familiar face,” I corrected, nudging Vicky forward. “Arwen, this is Victoria. My… twin sister.”

Arwen blinked once.

Then twice.

“You have a sister,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“A literal biological sister?”

“Yes.”

“Goddess-tier, divine, shares-your-bloodline sister?”

“Yes.” I smiled widely. “Is there a problem?”

“A goddess that can walk between mortals has a sister,” she muttered to herself before inhaling sharply through her nose. A long inhale. The type is reserved for either the scent of a rare bloom or a problem that needs immediate categorization.

“Right,” she said, her professional facade snapping back into place, “I have to talk to you about many things regarding the city development, the World Tree guardians.”

Arwen asked me before if I could assign the honor of protecting the World Tree to the elven race from my offspring. She argued that elves are more connected to nature than my other spawns and are the best choice for the job.

I refused immediately.

It may not be a problem right now, but in the long run, the elves will gain more power and influence in my land. They would definitely see themselves as better than the rest of my offspring.

Arrogance and the sense of racial superiority will definitely arise.

So I refused and decided to have the guardians from all of the races.

Before I could answer Arwen, Vicky stepped forward. No—she strode right up to my personal head-of-everything secretary like she owned the place and had already decided who got fired first.

“That’s cute,” Vicky said, giving Arwen a once-over. “City development and tree guards. Very… administrative.”

“Eh?” Arwen stared at her, unblinking. “It is necessary. A domain without structure collapses under its own decadence.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I grew up with this one.” Vicky jerked a thumb at me. “Collapse under decadence is kind of her brand.”

I slapped her arm. She slapped back. Respectfully, aggressively, and with the exact same sibling energy that once demolished a kitchen table.

“Ahem… anyway,” I ignored my sister and focused on the more pressing matter. “Arwen, my sister, is now in charge.”

“…Excuse me?” The coolness in Arwen’s voice could freeze the surface of the sun.

“In charge of what, precisely?” she asked, though I could tell from her rigid posture that she already understood the general—and terrifying—implications.

“Everything, eventually,” Vicky answered for me, her grin returning with a vengeance. “Starting with a new dress code.”

Arwen looked from Vicky’s leather-clad form to my naked one, a single, perfect eyebrow arching in silent, devastating judgment.

“…Underwear is forbidden here,” I said, trying to regain control of the conversation. My land, my rules, dammit.

“Not anymore,” Vicky corrected, her smirk not fading an inch. “Arwen, ignore everything Morgi said from the beginning of our conversation and consider me the main authority here.”

Arwen’s head tilted, a slow, calculating movement. The glow from the World Tree caught in her glasses, hiding her eyes for a moment. I could feel the gears turning, the hierarchy being recalibrated, the power dynamics being redrawn in real-time.

‘Fuck!’

Only then did I realize that Arwen and my sister were from the same kind.

Both were brilliant, cunning, and saw people as nothing more than pawns on a chessboard.

Vicky was the queen. And Arwen was… the queen’s advisor.

And I was the jester who wiggled her butt to entertain the crowd.

“Understood,” Arwen finally said, her voice neutral. “I will prepare a full dossier on administrative responsibilities, resource allocation, and pending political issues for your review, Lady Victoria.”

‘Lady Victoria?!’ I gaped at her.

I’ve been trying to get her to call me ‘Lady Morgana’ for months, and she always refuses.

“Good,” Vicky nodded in satisfaction. “Let me see the city layout. You did an amazing job, and I want to add a few things.”

“Of course,” Arwen nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips as she opened her note. “This way, my lady.”

I stood there, my mouth slightly open as I watched my sister and my sexy steward walk away, their heads bent together, already discussing something about ‘defensible bottlenecks’ and ‘resource triangulation.’

I was being sidelined.

In my own land.

By my own sister.

And my own… subordinate?

However, deep down, I was happy.

My own sister—the one I trapped in my soul for thousands of years—is free to walk the land again. She is more powerful than ever; her new dragon nature, combined with her cunning intellect, made her a force to be reckoned with.

And the best part?

She’s on my side.

We may argue, fight, and tease each other as we used to when we were young, but when it comes down to it, we are a team.

A terrifying team that once conquered the world, slew gods, and broke into the realm of creation itself.

With my strength and her mind, we are unstoppable.

I couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle; the thought of the chaos we would unleash upon this world sent a thrill down my spine.

“Something funny, Mother?” Luna’s voice, a warm, familiar melody, cut through my thoughts. She was standing beside me, her head tilted, a curious expression on her face.

“Yeah… Life will be more interesting from now on.”

Happy New Year!!!!!

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