Chapter 215: *Silverleaf Academy (LXIII)*

Aestrea stared at the panel for a long moment, his half-lidded eyes looking tired as usual.

“…Is that enough time to find Violet’s mother… and consume the Dragon’s Heart?” he murmured to himself.

Then, rummaging through the right pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a dark emblem with bold words written on it, and old blood clinging to the edges even now.

[Dark Order]

Aestrea stared at it for a few seconds before letting out a sigh.

“I hope I don’t have to rely on this,” he muttered, curling his fingers around the emblem before stuffing it back into his pocket.

『 Cleanse 』

The air glowed for a while as the pool of blood vanished from existence, along with the blood on his sleeves.

Then, he stepped out of the room, just to be met with three women wearing maid outfits, each one of them looking both dangerous and elegant.

Their eyes lowered in unison as they bowed.

“Mistress Yara has requested Master Aestrea’s presence in the planning chamber,” said the one in front, her voice polite and crisp.

Aestrea gave a single nod.

The maid at the front straightened, while the other two moved behind him without a word, flanking him like royal guards. One ahead, and two behind as if they were escorting not a guest… but someone who needed protection.

They walked in near silence, heels tapping faintly against the polished floors of the hallway.

Finally, the lead maid stopped before a large, blackened oak door inlaid with silver veins that pulsed faintly with dark-colored sigils.

“This is the room, Master Aestrea.” She stepped aside and bowed once more.

Aestrea gave her a glance, then stepped forward.

He pushed open the door without hesitation.

“Darling~? Come here already!” Yara’s voice immediately reached out to him.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted sharply.

At a wide obsidian table sat a burly, bearded man in thick armor, and across from him, two women, one tall with dark scars across her face, the other with silver tattoos coiling down her arms, glanced at Aestrea with a flicker of wariness… and something like curiosity.

Aestrea didn’t blink at their presence.

He walked straight toward Yara, who sat at the head of the table like a queen born to rule chaos itself.

She leaned back in her throne-like chair and smiled at him.

When he reached her side, she leaned in and gave his cheek a soft, delicate kiss, completely unfitting the grim tone in the room.

Then, her expression changed entirely, turning into a much serious one.

“Now… let’s make sure everything is right.”

Her fingers traced a burning red sigil on the war map, the infernal light casting soft glows across her pale skin.

“The frontal gate will fall first. We’ll unleash the hellbeasts from the left ridge, just enough chaos to scatter the first few regiments. The capital’s walls are lined with mage wards and skyguard artillery, so we’ll need the wind flyers to suppress the towers.”

She looked toward the bearded man across from her. “Braga, you’ll lead the vanguard. Bring the mountain tribes down from the northern pass. Crush the eastern flank and draw out the Shield Guard.”

“Hmph. Been years since we made nobles scream. I’ll make a damn opera out of it.” Braga grunted.

The scarred woman, Nylessa, leaned forward.

“We’ll burn their supply lines as we push from the underground canals. The sewers beneath the palace aren’t guarded anymore. Idiots thought no one would be mad enough to use them.”

The silver-tattooed one, Zari, nodded. “I’ll command the aerial division. The wyverns and banshees will split into two wings and blitz the outer sanctum, but we’ll hold the third wave to cut off their escape route.”

Yara nodded firmly, pleased.

But then…

Zari’s voice pierced through the calculated silence.

“Wait. What about the Sword Duke? And the Emperor himself?” she asked sharply, her eyes narrowing. “We can’t assume they’ll be in hiding. One wrong move, and they’ll annihilate the frontline.”

Everyone in the room went quiet.

Even Braga frowned.

That was a valid concern.

The Emperor was a monster in his own right. And the Sword Duke was even much worse than him, since he was more powerful than the four of them combined.

All eyes shifted toward Yara.

But she didn’t answer.

Instead, she turned her head, slowly, towards the one person who hadn’t spoken since the meeting began.

Aestrea.

He was still standing beside her, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his now summoned scythe.

And then—

He finally spoke.

“I will.”

Just two words, but they hit the room like a meter.

Braga blinked.

Zari leaned forward.

Nylessa’s brows pulled tight.

“You?” Zari asked, her tone incredulous.

“You’ll fight both of them?”

Aestrea’s voice didn’t change; he didn’t even bother to look at them.

“Yes.”

The three generals exchanged glances.

It wasn’t doubt in their eyes, it was disbelief. Was he serious? Did he understand what he was saying?

The Sword Duke was a walking fortress.

The Emperor was practically a living god under his protection.

Yara, however… she didn’t hesitate.

She smiled.

That slow, wicked, sultry smile that curled at the corners of her lips like it knew secrets no one else did.

“Don’t underestimate him,” she said, voice like velvet laced with poison.

“If Aestrea says he’ll handle it…”

“Then those two are already dead.”

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.

.

.

As the generals were all dismissed after planning…

Only Yara and Aestrea remained.

The war map still glowed faintly in blood-red sigils, casting shadows across the walls, but neither of them was looking at it now.

Step~

Yara slowly started walking towards Aestrea…

Her hips swayed like a cat on the prowl, the tight slit of her black dress revealing just a glimpse of pale, flawless skin with every step.

Her golden heels clicked softly with each step. Her lips curled upward in a lazy smile, and her black eyes sparkled like dying stars.

“Mmm… two whole hours~” she purred, placing her hand softly on his chest, feeling the quiet thrum of his heartbeat beneath his coat.

“So much time… and nothing to do except wait for the continent to burn.”

Her fingers traced a slow line down his chest.

Then, without a shred of hesitation, she leaned in, her warm breath brushing against his lips, and licked him, a single stroke, from the corner of his mouth to the center of his lips.

Her eyelashes fluttered innocently.

“I wonder what we should do to pass the time, hmm~?”

Aestrea didn’t answer with words.

His eyes never wavered, half-lidded, but filled with an intensity only Yara could ever understand.

And then…

He grabbed her by the waist.

“Ah—!”

She let out a tiny gasp of surprise, her smile breaking into something sultrier as he lifted her with ease, placing her right onto the obsidian war table, clearing a few glowing sigils with a sweep of his arm.

The map flared and flickered, and then dimmed beneath her as she sat, legs now at either side of him, looking down with eyes half-mad with delight.

He stood between her thighs, one hand resting on her bare hip, the other brushing a stray lock of her black hair behind her ear.

He looked up at her.

No words.

And then, he leaned in, kissing her.

His lips crashed against hers, claiming her as if it were already the end of the world and she was the only thing left worth possessing.

Yara moaned into his mouth, her fingers grabbing the collar of his coat, pulling him closer. Her legs hooked around his hips without shame.

“Mmh… Aestrea,” she whispered between breaths, lips brushing his again. “This war will tear the continent apart… but right now—”

She leaned down, her tongue flicking playfully against his lip again,

“I only want you to break me first.”

He pushed her back slowly until she lay across the table, her long black hair spilling out across the glowing red map like strands of ink in blood.

The soft red light danced along her thighs, her chest rising and falling slowly as she looked up at Aestrea, her lips parted, her breath a little shaky.

“Mmh… You really just threw me on the war table,” she whispered with a teasing little smile, licking her lips slowly.

“You’re such a brute when we’re alone~♥”

Aestrea didn’t say a word.

He just leaned over her, one hand resting beside her head, the other sliding up her thigh with firm, slow pressure.

Her skin was warm, smooth… soft in a way that made him want to lose himself.

His fingers traced up the inside of her leg, slipping beneath the high slit of her black dress.

The fabric clung to her skin, but he pushed it aside, revealing her lace-black panties just beneath the edge of her dress.

“You’re already wet,” he muttered, his voice low and calm, almost like he was stating a fact.

Yara bit her lip.

“Aren’t you the one who made me this way… Darling?” she whispered, her voice shaking just a little, her thighs tightening around him.

“Don’t tease me… touch me properly…~”

He leaned down, kissing her again.

This time slower, and deeper.

Their lips moved in sync, wet and warm, their tongues meeting, tasting each other. Yara let out a soft moan, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Ahh… Aestrea…” she gasped between kisses.

“I want you… don’t make me wait~”

His hand slid higher, finally cupping her mound through the soaked fabric, rubbing slow circles with his fingers.

“Haaah…! Nnnh~♥”

Yara arched her back, biting her knuckle as a moan slipped out.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him right against her core. She could feel the hardness of him now, straining against his pants.

She smiled breathlessly.

“You’re already hard for me~♥ What a pervert…”

Aestrea leaned close, lips brushing her ear.

“You’re the one moaning like that,” he whispered.

“You’re already soaked.”

Yara’s cheeks flushed with color.

“Then take responsibility… and fuck me already… Darling~♥”

He didn’t waste another second.

He pulled her panties aside, his fingers finally sliding between her folds

She was hot, and sooo wet.

His fingers moved slowly at first, spreading her open, feeling her warmth coat his skin.

“Mnnh~! Haaah… A-Aestrea~♥!”

Her hips bucked a little under his touch, her thighs trembling around him.

He slid one finger inside.

Her walls clenched tight.

“Ahnn~♥! Haaah… mmnh…!” she whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.

“M-More… I want more…”

He pushed in a second finger, moving them slowly, curling them just right.

Yara’s whole body trembled.

Her moans echoed softly through the war room, mixing with the faint hum of the map still glowing underneath her back.

It was almost surreal, her lying there in her black dress, legs spread on top of a table meant for planning death… now writhing under his touch.

“Darling… I-I’m gonna… if you keep doing that—mnnh~!” she bit her lip, her fingers digging into his arm.

“You’re too good at this…”

Aestrea pulled his fingers out slowly, watching her wetness glisten on them.

Then he brought them to his mouth.

And licked.

“Mmh…” he said simply, “You taste quite sweet.”

Yara’s face burned red.

“You… you bastard… now you have to take me.”

She grabbed his coat, yanked him forward, and kissed him again, deep and messy, filled with heat.

Then—

Her hands slid down, unbuckling his belt, pulling his pants down just enough. His shaft sprang free, hard, throbbing, already leaking with need.

Her eyes sparkled as she reached down, rubbing his tip against her wet entrance.

“Put it in… now… please~♥”

He grabbed her thighs, positioned himself, and then…

Pressed in.

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