Lord of the realm

Three days later, the Earl received an unexpected visitor.

Queen Saphyra arrived at the castle's private dock in her diplomatic form—still clearly inhuman, but elegant enough to avoid causing panic among the human staff. Her carriage was pulled by seahorses, and her retinue consisted of six warrior-sirens whose scaled armour gleamed with deadly purpose.

"Your Majesty," Earl Grimwald greeted her in a chamber, having resumed his human disguise for the occasion. He was looking at her with a confused expression. They usually meet for business deals or about the special ale, but not once did she come unannounced.

He was anxious, to say the least. She was the most unpredictable woman he had ever dealt with. Not once during his meetings had he profited him doing business with her.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"I heard there was an incident at the docks a couple of days back," she said matter-of-factly.

Earl narrowed his eyes as he wondered why she wasn't dealing with the boy herself, instead of coming here. He knew that she may have already been aware of the boy. It was her woman who fought with him, after all.

But why was she here?

"We need to discuss the boy," she said without preamble, settling into the specially prepared chair that had been filled with salt water for her comfort. "My children encountered him three days ago. The results were... illuminating."

"Ah." The Earl leaned back in his throne, his expression carefully neutral. "And what did your people learn?" He decided to feign ignorance and listen to her to know her intentions.

Earl cursed at her sirens; they have always caused trouble, messing with humans.

"That mysterious woman protecting him possesses abilities that may predate the current age of power. And that both of them represent either a tremendous opportunity or an existential threat to the stability of our respective domains."

The Earl's throat sac pulsed thoughtfully. "I have already contacted the Red Moon Coven. They should arrive within the week."

Queen Saphyra's fins spread slightly—a gesture equivalent to raised eyebrows. "The Red Moon? Grimwald, you may be overreacting. That particular coven has a reputation for... excessive solutions."

"Excessive problems require excessive solutions," the Earl replied.

"You don't know about the woman protecting the boy. She may be an Ashen."

Saphyra raised an eyebrow. "An Ashen? A perfect place to hide for them, I guess."

"But not for us. If they were to learn that I was harboring them for years, they would come for my head," Earl said, rubbing his throat.

"Then why did you act now?"

"She didn't give any opportunity."

-

In her house on the Fisherman's Lane, Odessa paced the main room with barely contained anxiety. Maps and ancient texts were spread across every available surface, covered with notes written in a dozen different languages and scripts.

"I should have seen this coming," she muttered, running her hands through her black hair. "Four months of careful control, and then he explodes like a volcanic eruption the moment he loses control."

Jaenor sat at the kitchen table, absently practicing small-scale origin manipulations while watching her pace.

He could form complex energy constructs now—not just the simple cores from his early training, but intricate, organized patterns that pulsed with controlled power.

"You said I need to absorb an origin stone," he said quietly.

"How dangerous is that going to be?"

During one of the training days, she mentioned that if he were to absorb an Origin stone, his control over the power would drastically increase, and it would also make him one with Origin.

The Origin Stone was like the rarest of the rarest physical representations of the Origin power; they carry the essence in them, making them pure and potent energy.

Odessa paused in her pacing, her expression softening as she looked at him.

Despite everything, he was still so young—still trying to understand forces that had shaped the world since its creation.

"Origin stones are crystallized fragments of pure creative force derived from the Origin," she explained, moving to sit across from him.

"They form naturally in places where the barriers between dimensions are thin or where great spiritual catastrophes have occurred. Absorbing one would stabilize your power and allow you to access much greater abilities without losing control."

"But?"

"But they're extremely rare and heavily guarded, and the absorption process itself can kill you if you're not properly prepared."

She reached across the table to take his hands, her touch warm and reassuring.

"Give me a few days," she said softly, her voice steady but shadowed by something unspoken. "I will find it for you… and then you can absorb it."

He looked at her and just stared at her, lost in thought about what she said.

There was silence as they gazed at each other.

Jaenor studied her, his eyes narrowing slightly. He couldn't tell why she was doing all of this for him. She saved him, gave him a home, and was now going as far as to search for something hard to find.

Jaenor was the type of man who thinks that people don't just help out of kindness; they always take something in return. That was what he had learned from his life experience.

She didn't seem like the others—certainly not like a normal witch.

There was something vast, something powerful about her as if her very presence carried centuries of burden.

"Why?" His voice came low, almost reluctant.

"Why are you helping me so much? Why go through all this trouble… for me?"

For a long moment, she only looked at him.

Her gaze didn't waver; it searched him, as though weighing what to reveal.

Finally, she exhaled, a breath that trembled with memory.

"I have lived a life full of regrets," she said, her eyes glinting with pain buried deep.

"There were moments when I could have acted—moments I could have changed everything—but I held back. And because of that… I lost someone. Someone who was my everything. I couldn't bring him back."

Her voice cracked, then steadied again.

"You remind me of him. It may sound foolish… but humans are foolish, and so are our emotions. We cannot help what we want, nor can we stop ourselves from acting on it."

Silence hung between them, heavy and fragile.

Then Jaenor moved.

He rose to his feet and stepped toward her.

She remained seated in the chair, watching him cautiously as he approached.

He leaned closer, straddling her, his hands lifting gently to cradle her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice sharp but uncertain, betraying the flutter beneath her calm mask.

He looked directly into her eyes, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. He kissed her, closing her lips with his lips. He caressed her and smacked her tongue with his.

Then he moved back, and he whispered in her ear, "I don't care."

"I don't care why you're doing this. Because you've done more than anyone has ever done. And I don't care even if you are the devil herself."

Her lips parted in surprise, and then she smiled faintly, a mixture of sorrow and longing. "Don't take those words back, then," she murmured.

And before either could falter, she pulled him into a kiss, her hands grasping him as if afraid he might vanish like the ghost of her past.

They kissed again, and this time, she pulled him in, pressing her lips, smacking them against his. Her fingers ran through his hair as she slid her tongue into his mouth.

The slow, wet noise of their lips smashing lasts for a couple of minutes.

Then Jaenor got up and said, "Let me see your glorious tits."

"Aren't you seeing them daily?"

"No matter how much time I spend with them, I never get bored with them."

Odessa let out a low chuckle, which made Jaenor smile, his eyes filled with adoration. "You truly are a goddess," he whispered before leaning in for another kiss. The passion between them seemed to ignite even more intensely.

With a steady hand, Jaenor reached for her blouse, his fingers deft as they loosened the ties, revealing the generous curves of her chest.

Odessa's breath caught, but her eyes held his, unwavering, as she allowed the fabric to fall away.

She leaned back, watching him move with desire.

Jaenor's confidence faltered for a heartbeat, struck by the sight of her, but he pressed forward, guided by desire and the heat of the moment.

He quickly removed his trousers and tunic and stood bare with his dick shooting at the roof.

It was full of vigor as he caught himself and stroked it. "See how hard it is. Just the sight of your boobs and ass would make me burst."

Again, Odessa chuckled. She loved hearing him talk about his lust for her.

Then he told her to hold her tits together.

He positioned himself between her boobs, his arousal was evident as he slid himself between the warmth of her ample breasts.