Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Military Parade and Heir Declaration (1)
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Night.
As always, Eirin was tending to me in my room after dark.
"Haaah... Hnngh..."
Eirin was on all fours, her ass thrust high in the air. Her calves, clad in sheer coffee-colored band stockings, were flawlessly smooth without a single imperfection.
Aside from those stockings, she was completely naked, looking every bit the vulgar bitch in heat—and it was driving me wild. I was pounding away relentlessly at her lewd hole, slick with her juices.
"Young Lord... Young Lord... Haa..."
True to her nature, even as her arousal was obvious, she was desperately trying to stifle her slutty moans.
That haughty poise of hers always turned me on even more, just like always. I channeled mana into my cock with practiced ease now and ramped up the tempo of my thrusts.
"Eek??"
The reaction was immediate. A man's cock normally doesn't connect to mana circuits.
But my monstrous tool, infused with demon king blood rather than human, had mana pathways distributed throughout it like veins.
I began emitting mana bit by bit through my shaft. Focusing it on a section of the fine capillaries, I shaped it into a slight protrusion.
"Hiiiing?? Ahhhng!!!"
Eirin's sensitivity skyrocketed, and she let out piercing wails of pleasure. The protruding mana was targeting her G-spot, the most sensitive spot deep inside her pussy.
It was on another level from just rubbing it with my cock. My shaft kept thrusting on its own, while the mana independently whipped her G-spot into a frenzy.
"Haaang...♡ Ahng...♡ Hiiit...♡"
Eirin must have been overwhelmed by waves of ecstasy she couldn't possibly keep her composure against. It was nothing like that illegal back-alley cock enhancement job with its grotesque shape.
My mana was boosting her sensitivity in real time, instinctively zeroing in on exactly the spots she craved and assaulting them relentlessly.
"Young Lord... Aaaang...♡ Like this...♡ I can't...♡ think straight...♡ Feels too good... Hiiing... Hnngh..."
Her waist arched like a bow repeatedly, her ass twitching wildly. The sight pushed me over the edge too—blood surged harder into my cock, and I couldn't hold back anymore.
Her exquisite pussy clamped down with double the intensity as she neared climax. I slammed my brutal monster into her at top speed without mercy.
"Hiiing... Ahng... Aaang!!!"
Our peaks crashed together at their heights. I unleashed a torrent of semen deep into her tight depths without restraint.
Splurt-splurt-splurt—
The overflowing white fluid filled her up and coated my cock. We savored the afterglow of orgasm inside her for a good while. When I finally pulled out, Eirin collapsed face-first onto the bed.
"Hing... Hngh..."
The lingering orgasm ignited by demon king mana wouldn't fade quickly. A bit later, I recovered my composure first and quickly cleaned up the messy aftermath of our sex.
"Young Lord... Let me... handle that... Hoo..."
"It's fine. Just lie there."
I lay down beside her again, pulling the covers over us both. Staying naked after sex could get chilly.
'Lying here with a woman after sex... feels almost like we're lovers.'
If she and I were actual lovers, pillow talk like this could be as important as the sex itself—maybe even more so.
Of course, with Eirin as the partner, I'd love to indulge in that romance. But right now, practical matters took priority in my mind.
The military parade was just two days away. While Eirin was still coming down from her high, I opened the system for a quick check.
I checked my mana. It was a world away from last time's stats. Julian now had base mana—something he'd lacked before. 80 MP of it.
'That's why I did Mana Stimulation with Uriel. Makes sense.'
I'd awakened mana through that stimulation. And reaped an unexpected windfall.
In Demon King's Son, ordinary stimulation yielded up to 40 MP max with someone like Uriel. But this time, I'd gotten double that.
My masterful acting had lured Uriel into mounting me first. The ensuing frenzied indulgence—what I'd call stimulation—must've doubled the efficiency. A very satisfying reward for me.
'Sure, the system gave mana rewards... but without base mana, no mana attribute changes were possible anyway.'
Now with base mana, I could grow into aura, magic power, holy power—whatever class I wanted. No limits from the protagonist's special bloodline.
And the extra mana beside base mana was my unique cheat. Like an auxiliary battery, it let me store far more mana than base alone.
With steady system rewards incoming, the potential uses were endless. As I finished checking the system, Eirin spoke up from beside me.
"...Young Lord. I'm fine now. Let me clean up."
"No. You can keep lying down. I have more to discuss with you."
"Right now... like this? Sharing the covers with a lowly thing like me..."
Suddenly, Eirin turned away from me. Like she didn't want me seeing her face.
'What's that about?'
It was what you'd call a shy gesture. But Eirin, who'd already shared her body fully with me, wouldn't act like that. If orgasm aftershocks lingered, her face might still be dazed. Probably didn't want me seeing her looking foolish.
"I need to talk prep for the military parade the day after tomorrow. Before the heir succession rite begins, I plan to give a short speech with my thoughts."
"A speech?"
"Something like my last letter. I'll say I'm done with my wastrel ways and promise to do better from now on."
It was crucial to plant the right impression with the White Night Knights and Essenmont army elites. Demon King's Son was a trash game with brutal difficulty.
'One bad end scenario was the Essenmont army revolt. If it succeeds, Julian ends up imprisoned for life.'
The Border Count's forces were the world's sturdiest allies. But if that blade turned on me, no faction I built could stand against them.
'Especially Knight Captain Michael right now. His loyalty to House Reinhardt is off the charts dangerously.'
And Michael's patriotism for Essenmont territory was equally fervent.
Handing the Border Count title to wastrel Julian like this would shatter not just House Reinhardt but Essenmont too—and Michael wasn't blind to that.
Even a distant Reinhardt collateral would be better than wastrel Julian. So this military parade was my golden chance to flip my image overnight.
"I can write the letter to the princess myself like last time. But for the speech, it'd be best if you drafted it, Eirin."
"Me, Young Lord?"
"You know more about Essenmont common knowledge than I do. Write it to make the knights' and soldiers' blood boil. Especially hype up Captain Michael. Weave in praise for Essenmont territory."
"Understood."
This was key. My biggest event at the parade was dueling Captain Michael one-on-one. I couldn't have him half-ass it out of concern for Wilhelm the Border Count's face.
To maximize propaganda value, I needed to show something against a full-effort opponent. This speech was prep to draw out Michael's sincerity.
And the new trait I'd bought from the system: Demagogue.
A trait totally alien to original Julian, so the GP cost was steep. I had to blow all my saved game points.
But paired with Eirin's refined prose, it was the perfect fit.
"Next, about the uniform Otto and his son are preparing..."
And so, lying side by side with Eirin, we talked deep into the night about the military parade.
The season when even Essenmont's famed cutting winds began to soften was approaching.
On the outskirts of Reinhime, capital of Essenmont Border County. There, amid lingering winter scenery, a sizable force was marching.
"Five silvers says that wastrel count fled to the capital before we even arrived."
"I'll bet five he shows up for the parade then pisses himself and collapses."
"Then I'll put ten on the count successfully claiming heir status."
"Yours is free money. Never gamble again, yeah?"
At the vanguard rode knights in full armor on horseback. With no combat risk in this safe march, they were bantering away.
"Making pathetic bets about the Border Count's heir? The White Night Knights have gone soft."
"Ah! Sorry, Captain Michael!"
"Joking. What's the White Night Knights' iron rule?"
"Play when it's time to play, kill when it's time to kill! How's that, Captain?"
"You know it. Still, he's the Border Count's heir. Don't cross the line."
A resounding reply erupted at the captain's words.
"Yes, sir!"
The march bored even Michael. He understood the knights' mood.
These knights and soldiers had been elite survivors of brutal frontlines just weeks ago.
A laughing comrade today could be a monster's corpse tomorrow. That was the battlefield.
Let them loosen up when appropriate, or their minds would break.
Michael joined the banter moderately. As natural silence returned...
The valiant captain's mind churned with complications. Over that wastrel heir the knights had just mocked.
'No way the count really fled already, like they said...?'
Last year, he'd bolted at the sight of elite troops entering Reinhime. A coward's act, utterly unlike the tyrant's rep from the count's manor and capital.
No, Michael had seen Julian's wastrel ways firsthand, so it wasn't that surprising.
'If he took after even half—no, a quarter—of his grandfather or mother.'
The man who'd beheaded more Rank 1 beasts and demonkin than any imperial knight in history was Wilhelm von Reinhardt.
Twenty years ago, when Michael was a green aura novice far from master, he'd witnessed Wilhelm's superhuman feats up close. No one knew better.
And Wilhelm's daughter, Agnes—Julian's birth mother. No mere knight or even White Night member matched her valor as a priestess.
Amid mountains of ally and demon corpses on the battlefield's heart, she'd thrown herself in without hesitation, becoming our beacon.
Hence her moniker: miracle-calling saintess.
Thanks to Agnes, hope endured amid daily city falls to demons.
A fitting nickname.
'But of all people, Julian the count turns out like that...'
Rumors swirled in Essenmont that wastrel Julian was an adopted collateral bastard, not Agnes's blood.
His actions made it impossible to see Wilhelm or Agnes in him.
A wastrel rabbit born of lion's blood? Not an unreasonable suspicion.
'But he's definitely of Reinhardt and Agnes blood. The sacred relic that reacts only to pure Reinhardt line responded to him.'
Yet he showed no Reinhardt traits...
Maybe his bard birth father Riel's blood dominated. Michael had seen that man over twenty years ago.
An appearance like living sculpture, unbelievable as human. A mystical figure with angelic tones.
'No—more devil than man. His song enthralled everyone.'
Agnes fell to that beauty too. If Riel had demon blood, its allure might taint Julian now.
'...That's too speculative. I'm worn out, hallucinating like a village drunk.'
Anyway, the count's utter lack of Reinhardt vibe gave Michael a headache.
The upcoming parade required a one-on-one with him. Even without aura, Michael was a master where sword and body were one.
No way the wastrel could handle even one exchange.
'Guess I'll have to throw it too. Even if others notice.'
Best to bait the count's first strike and take the hit. Mortifying, but...
His Highness would spot the act and rage. But failing the succession might provoke who-knows-what from the wastrel.
How much Essenmont folk—and White Night Knights—would accept a botched rite was uncertain.
'All for House Reinhardt and Essenmont. My shame is nothing.'
Michael steeled himself.
The next day, the elites he'd led arrayed in perfect formation at Reinhime Palace's central plaza.
Thank the heavens—Count Julian hadn't fled. There he stood on the stage for the parade, in uniform.
'Wait. Was Count Julian always this... imposing?'
Michael ascended the stage for the parade. Gazing at the count across the platform, he seemed subtly different from the wastrel he knew.
