Chapter 71
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Love is Something You Seize
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Her voice was as hard as iron.
"The army runs on discipline and control. Cheonwi's like a wild colt with the reins cut loose—if you take your eyes off him for even a moment, he'll be out swinging his club. I'll rule him with military law so he can't even dream of stepping out of line. From morning roll call to evening lights-out, total schedule control to remake his body and mind."
Iron Blood's eyes flashed. It was less the look of a lover and more the glare of a drill instructor sizing up a recruit.
Cheonwi felt a chill run down his spine on instinct. Get caught by that woman, and he'd be rolling on the training grounds instead of the bed until he withered away.
"Oh my, how crude."
Yeonhwa scoffed.
"Hand him to a brute like you, and Cheonwi'll dry up and twist away. Love isn't boot camp. It takes finesse. Tsk tsk, no wonder sword-swingers like you just won't do."
"Madam, crude?!"
Blood vessels throbbed on Iron Blood's forehead. The armrest groaned under her iron grip. But Yeonhwa didn't so much as blink, fanning herself all the while.
"Yes, crude. You're out. Planning to turn my man into a eunuch?"
Yeonhwa brushed Iron Blood aside like so much dust and shifted her gaze across the table. It landed on Snowflower Princess.
Snowflower startled at the look, hunching her shoulders.
"Snowflower Princess..."
"Y-Yes? Madam..."
"You'll do it."
The room buzzed at Yeonhwa's pick. Snowflower's eyes went wide, as if she couldn't trust her own ears.
"M-Me...? But I'm..."
"You're meek—no trouble there. And obedient to boot? Just make sure Cheonwi eats right like I say, fan him at night so he doesn't overdo it. Perfect maid material."
Yeonhwa's words cut straight and brutal. Snowflower's face burned scarlet as she bowed her head. Proxy in name only—she was just a puppet in Yeonhwa's scheme.
"Well? Snowflower Princess—no complaints?"
Yeonhwa was about to seal the deal.
Bang!
A thunderous crash shook the table like it might flip. Someone shot to her feet.
It was Tira. Her feral instincts bared, she growled like she couldn't hold back another second.
"I object! Got a problem with this!"
Tira's bellow echoed through the banquet hall.
"Meek cats always climb the stove first! Those innocent types act pure, but lay out the mat and they wag tail quickest! No way in hell!"
Tira jabbed an accusing finger while huffing, and Snowflower teared up, turning pleading eyes to Cheonwi.
"Brother... that woman's calling me..."
"Shut it! And you, Empress! Way too high-handed! Think pregnancy's some official rank? Give me half a shot and I'll knock it up tonight! Ten times over if you want!"
Tira's bombshell nearly made Cheonwi spit out his water.
The mood ignited in a flash.
"Hoh, bold words for a barbarian."
Sword Empress cut in with a icy smile. She twirled her teacup rim on one finger, murmuring low.
"But you're all missing the point. I know Master's 'tastes' best."
Sword Empress's gaze slithered stickily over Cheonwi's lower half.
"Where he likes it bound, the tension that sends him over the edge, how to squeeze just right for that deep release... that's mine alone. Needs managing? Leave it to the expert."
"Crazy bitch..."
Iron Blood spat.
"That pervert gets him, Cheonwi dies in bed! No dice! I'll handle it! Stamina training's the only way!"
"Outta my way! I'll take it by force!"
Tira lunged for the table, sending escort warriors scrambling in panic.
"Everyone... so scary... sob sob... Brother, can I just leave...?"
Snowflower welled up tears in pitiful mode, but her backside stayed glued to the chair—not a millimeter budged. Deep in those eyes burned quiet resolve: can't miss this shot.
The meeting devolved into chaos.
"Mine!"
"Move, muscle hog!"
"Who're you calling hog, you twig bitch!"
"I'm Master's top toy!"
Shouts, curses, killing intent swirled wild. The Imperial Palace's grand banquet hall turned marketplace—no, gladiator pit.
Cheonwi pinched his brow.
Head throbbed. Forgot these women outclassed even the Emperor in handling hassle. Each a one-woman army, jealousy multiplying the threat.
Let it ride, and the hall crumbles soon. Cheonwi drew a deep breath.
"Enough!!!"
His inner-force shout sliced the air.
The beauties, hairsbreadth from catfight, froze mid-motion.
"Calm down, all of you! This the national assembly? Street market? Show some class!"
Cheonwi schooled his face stern and stepped off the dais. Straightened his rumpled robes, wove through them.
"Not about who manages. Monopoly births tyranny, tyranny sparks revolt. Exhibit A right here?"
Cheonwi paused before Yeonhwa, then strode to Tira.
"Key's 'fair shares.' Democracy 101! Equal opportunity!"
"Fair?"
Tira snorted.
"Love got no fair! You seize it!"
"Exactly—fair shots to seize. No blood spilled."
Cheonwi grinned, wheeled around a prepped blackboard. Snatched white chalk.
Tap, tap.
Chalk clicked brisk against slate. Cheonwi scrawled a massive chart.
"Now starting the 'Weekly Schedule Auction.'"
"Auction?"
Beauties' eyes bugged.
"Yup. Mon, Tue, Wed, Thu, Fri, Sat, Sun. Seven days. Five bidders. Tight but fair."
Cheonwi rapped the board.
"Bid your days. Overlaps fine. Winner takes one."
"Bids in what? Gold?"
Yeonhwa perked—wealth her ace. Cheonwi shook no.
"Got plenty cash. Want no mundane trash."
Cheonwi's eyes gleamed wicked.
"Bid's your 'service spirit.' How bad you please me, how wild the 'service.' Judge the pitches, pick winners."
Silence blanketed the hall.
Women's gazes shifted. Past jealousy—pure fire now.
'Service' nuance hit hard. Proving top bliss? Pride on line.
"Fun."
Iron Blood shattered quiet first. Predator gleam.
"Gold Friday! Mine!"
Hand shot sky-high.
"Friday night chains to weekend—two nights, three days! Hell boot camp. Stamina grind, tactical drills... bed tactics."
"Cheeky."
Yeonhwa fired back.
"Friday seized—Empress prerogative. No 'Gold Friday' crap. Nights peak romance. Empress class incoming. Plus 'pregnancy priority'—extra points."
"Cheap belly play! Force my claim!"
Tira table-slammed.
"Wednesday! Week's waist-snapper! Survive my wild? Paradise. Full Amazoness oil massage!"
"Hoh, oil..."
Cheonwi's ears twitched. Sword Empress pounced.
"Tacky. Master, Thursday. Thursdays drag weary. I'll melt stress stimulating. Fresh tools stocked."
She flashed bosom clink—cuffs gleamed. Cheonwi gulped dry.
"M-Me too...!"
Quiet Snowflower hand rocketed up.
"Monday! Monday blues cure! Lap pillow... ear clean... anything Brother craves..."
Her face exploded crimson. 'Anything' packed punch.
Heat spiraled wild. Fair play torched—burned for more, prime slots.
"Saturday mine!"
"Dream on! Weekend's me!"
"Sunday's freebie! Need my holiday!"
Cheonwi's yell drowned.
Fierce aura clash previewed day wars. Growling beauties eyed, Cheonwi savored thrill by board.
Value moonshot.
Harem essence. Power pure.
"Talk's cheap—spit's flying."
Cheonwi lip curled, chalk reset. Long brawl ahead. Payoff? Sweet.
Board stance gleeful.
"Easy now! Specifics time. Fair bids!"
Thick underline slashed days.
Deadlier than warzone, livelier than fest to him.
"Prime pick—worker dream, fire-night icon! 'Gold Friday' bids open."
Chalk circled 'Fri'. Dust danced; air leaden. Five auras smashed sparks unseen.
"Start light: 'full-body massage, one hour.' Who's in?"
Heavy plate clanged instant.
"Two hours!"
Iron Blood General. Arms crossed, general's demand.
"No plain rub. Northern border black tiger oil—prime meridian work. Western Daijin vintage, thirty-year 'Dragon Blood Wine.' Chug to blackout fine. Cleanup mine."
Soldier rough hid scheme bold: booze blackout, pounce.
Shot downed prompt.
"Three hours! Cosplay add!"
Tira. Leg table-propped, feral grin raw.
"You dropped it casual last time? Beast ears, tail kink. Raid beastkin trophies for flawless 'fox yokai' getup. Tail wags? Nah—tail plug spot? You know. Want it? Quadruped crawl, spoon-feed grub!"