With every pluck of an instrument or dulled roar from the flashing lightning that bled past the dome of water above, Elinor’s heart beat faster. Vision dark, she soaked in the raw fire of what it was like to be a thélméthra—the humor that this was just a drone entirely dispensable to the spider species was not lost on her.
Combining the thélméthra’s natural abilities with her own Feats as a Lich Empress put heat in her veins that she hadn’t felt since her time in cheer and gymnastics. It created a magnum opus within her mind, the howling wind of the Tempest grazing past each silken thread she expanded, giving her further insight into the stage she performed on.
The hushed discussions that passed through the four Houses as they coordinated brought a small smile to her, with the grandmasters sending their advice to the recruit candidates. It was nearing the finale, but there were bound to be some wrenches thrown at her from the other grandmasters who wanted to test her and push back against her push for change in the kingdom.
Outside of a few minor outliers, everything was progressing precisely as Tiffany had said it would; the Warlord Evolution had given her the means to propel The Witch Queen’s plot to heights they hadn’t dreamed of accomplishing. Yet, there was one deadly concern beginning to work through her hot veins: [Warlord’s Bloodlust: 60%]
If this continues…I might actually kill someone, which would be disastrous. How can something taste so tempting?
Her mouth salivated; the sweat and determination of hundreds of victims clashing against her webs was only a finger’s twitch away. The swirl of fear that carried on the wind told her to push forward and crush those who wanted to challenge her.
Control… The fight will come soon enough. Patience is rewarded to the spider who waits for her meal.
She licked her lips, stomach squirming and muscles begging to be utilized, yet she kept her instincts bound under an iron grip. Every one of her Stats was boosted by a tiny margin with every second that passed: Force, Defense, Dexterity, Energy, and Tenacity surging with her thirst for anticipated combat.
By sheer force of will, Elinor maintained her stationary position inside her nest, letting the teens organize a counter-offensive. Lilya adapted to their plan, and the other grandmasters gave their instructions on how to fight her; it would take time, though. Flames and ice battered against her thick pillar-like webbing, damaging sections that were then only filled in again by the thélméthra liquid silk running through the structure’s nerve system.
Only a little longer. My silk gland is slowly regenerating… It sucks that reforming my body doesn’t restore it.
[Silk Reserves: 0.5%]
[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 62%]
Opening her eyes, she slowed her breathing, the hums of the wind against her thread giving her a clear picture of the outside world. Every heartbeat was a tug on her consciousness, driven by thélméthra instinct and her Warlord Evolution Passive working in tandem to push her into combat.
The Tempest and Magic Knights scrambled to get into position to defend the Alchemists and Conjurors, only just now receiving instruction from Grandmaster Vesta as the Tempest projected orders through wind manipulation.
Their words tickled her ears like honey on her tongue, and a slight twist came to tinted green lips as Grandmaster Irkai told his Conjurors to follow his diagram to a T. Soon, very soon, she would have something she could sink her claws into.
[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 61%]
Lilya, her monarch Magi-Chemist, invoked the next layer of their plan, receiving live updates from Tiffany. The radiant woman took a stand, drawing a raven’s notice, and projected her message on the hologram above; the music’s dramatic hum only increased in the background.
“Citizens of Kaspir, as The Raven Empress has shown you, there are threats which require your military to be capable of defending against…or they will find you in your homes. You are witnessing the desperate attempts to defy the impossible challenge she has sent these candidates… Not everyone can rise to the occasion. Some have run away, noble and peasant alike. Yet, many have stayed and answered the challenge. What do you see?”
The former queen stood tall, her golden outfit gleaming in the colorful rays cast down from the water dome; it befitted a desert trade princess. Her words, the swaying music, and the tense atmosphere pressed in on the throng; thunder rolled through the stadium, making a quake run through a hundred thousand souls looking down on the mayhem.
Dozens of candidates from the Tempest, Alchemist, and Magic Knight candidates fled toward the exits; Elinor’s chest shook with mirth at their attempts to retreat, and her voice projected through the gems around the ravens’ throats, the image above hazing to return to her leering stare upon the cowards that had turned their backs to her.
“Do you believe there is mercy for those who seek to run or surrender themselves? If someone attempts to show their fangs and then withdraws them…then all respect is lost; if you will not defend your own life when confronted, then how can you defend those who are weaker than you?”
Her grin and cold words brought a sweeping chill through the rest of the candidates and stadium as a twitch of her fingers sent impulses through her nexus of web; thread-like wire erupted from the pillars running along the framework of the coliseum, striking like vipers to coil around the screaming and teary-eyed teens, dragging them into the network to be pulled inside her fluid silk network to be transported into the nest.
“Disappointing.”
[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 70%]
A curse came from one of the highborn Magic Knight candidates who had taken command as he shot toward one of the Alchemists who tried to escape, cutting the thread with light-blue energy from his sword.
“Dammit, Talen, why’d you have to snatch glory and get yourself caught?! Who else has the experience to handle—shit! Watch your right, kid! Yuna, grab some people and defend the Conjuration group; the Tempest are already ahead of us! Who else knows how to use magic?”
Castria’s older sister was promptly beside another teenage Magic Knight candidate, defending against her onslaught of thread. “What can I do? I’m not great with a sword, but I’m a fast learner! Where do you want me? Hey, form a group—watch out from above!”
“Ugh!” The boy made a few projected slashes of disruptive force that battered her string away, impressing Elinor a tad as the others organized into smaller packs around those who seemed to know what they were doing. “Fine! You guys get the Alchemists and bring them to the Conjuration area; form a line and keep them defend—”
The grandmasters’ messages, written on paper, arrived on a sharp gust of wind, causing Elira to take her small unit to guard the brown-haired, self-appointed leader. It was then that Lilya’s projection replaced Elinor’s, her bone-chilling call-to-arms sounding throughout the stadium.
“If Kaspir is going to project power throughout the continent and regain the respect of other nations, then we need to show our courage. If you have a desire to show your love for this kingdom—for what we can make it—then join the candidates. The House of Raven will not limit its recruitment to only those seeking support from the established college trades. All talent is needed to uplift Kaspir into a new golden age!”
[Silk Reserves: 0.7%]
[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 75%]
[Bloodlust Aura: Unlocked]
[Bloodlust Aura: Activated]
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An oppressive weight expelled from Elinor as she chuckled, replacing her Monarch of Alchemy on the display as she slowly rose to her feet to look down on the citizens from her grand illusion; her aura shot out, projected from the seed she’d swallowed, oozing out of each spelled raven. Momentarily ceasing her assault, she flashed her teeth, making several groups freeze in their actions.
“I know at least one person who will answer that call…Captain Flera. Let this mark the beginning of Kaspir’s march into a position of strength. Not only of Tempest but of all branches of magic and science…because it cannot survive what I know is to come without adapting. Show me you deserve to live because living is a right earned and not given.”
The raven fluttered off its perch to follow her as the nest rippled to the electrical pulses she sent through its network, moving those she’d captured while she spoke. “Young future Magic Knights, Paladins, and whatever else might come from this growing college curriculum, I will offer this challenge…”
Her silk split open as she came to the edge of the arena, lifting her arms overhead with a wicked snicker to display the bound trio she’d beaten just before this stage. “Behold your Great House candidates. I have taken quite good care of them,” she taunted.
Elinor’s sides hurt with silent laughter at the gulps that slid down thousands of throats when the hologram above zoomed in on the bright red faces of the gagged and wrapped seventeen-year-olds.
Drake, having been rendered shirtless in their fight, was sandwiched by the two red-faced noble girls; Anala, having mostly incinerated her own gown during the conflict, was tied snuggly against the uncomfortable ice-user’s chest, with Aura bound against his back, their arms woven around each other to keep them from using any pesky elemental attacks to escape.
She could practically feel the hot steam puffing out of the redhead’s lips against the fidgeting teenage boy’s collarbone, cheeks scarlet. Aura’s face was held stationary near the base of Drake’s neck, wiggling to try to get free and only further tightening her chest against his sweating back. Their radiating body heat was suffocating the light-headed noble boy as their thighs rubbed against one another, trying to find any sort of leverage to escape.
“Oh, that’s cruel!” Tiffany cackled. “I can only imagine how hard Drake is trying to control the blood from leaving his head! I doubt he even wants to escape.”
She felt Castria almost slip in her concentration and lose control of the colossal amount of channeled mana she was gathering, forcing Princess Heather and Lord Julian to catch her fumble. “Empress, that’s—I would die if you did that to me! And in front of the whole kingdom!”
Lilya’s mouth drew in, but Elinor could sense a spark of entertained curiosity that surprised her. “It is a tad mean, Empress, and could cause friction from the Great Houses.”
[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 70%]
[Bloodlust Aura: Deactivated]
On the contrary, Elinor mused, looking up at the three as the shocking display swept through the stadium. Anala is the least resistant, and her family is quite enthralled by the vision; her mother is noting how little her little spitfire is struggling. She shouldn’t be afraid to burn the Tarnash boy, yet she has yet to try to escape. Maybe she’s too drained?
“Doubtful!” Tiffany snorted as Aura’s wind tried to dislodge them to no avail in her frantic state to break free. Elinor bent one of her fingers, forcing the green-haired girl’s hands slightly lower to Drake’s middle abs, her muffled screams of protest escalating. “Aura should have held back and let her rival embarrass herself more. Instead, she got caught up in the trap, so now she gets to join in the fun!”
“Empress!”
Her father’s somewhat hesitant voice entered the conversation. “Queen Alivau actually looks impressed by ‘the trophy,’ as she sees it.”
Elinor’s entertained eyes narrowed as she felt the redhead’s fingers trace words across Drake’s exposed back. Sure, the heat radiating from her skin and occasional twitches from certain parts of her body told quite the story, but the boy had daringly come to her rescue a few times during their brief fight against her.
Perhaps even more interesting was that the hot head was more intelligent than others gave her credit for. She had found a way to silently communicate with the ice boy to coordinate. Unfortunately, Aura’s squirming belly and thrashing were messing up her message.
Elinor thought about meddling a bit more, as well, tightening the threads a tad. Dozens of City Guards and citizens were attempting to get into the arena grounds to join the fight in any way they could help.
Why don’t I paint a picture for you since you don’t have a clear view? she offered, lifting the trio higher into the air and curling her web around them into a cage. Because Anala feels rather safe wrapped in Lord Drake’s arms?
“Huh?” A shiver came from her Queen of Storms, emotional state fluctuating a little at the topic since she wasn’t born in a modern, licentious society that promoted such topics. The men and women of this world were quite innocent, despite their ‘slutty’ apparel for attention. “What are you talking about?”
Imagine it, Elinor whispered, maneuvering the thread to shift the noble boy and girls’ position ever so slightly to cause even more discomfort and break their concentration.
What is it like for Drake to have two beautiful and rather stubborn women attached to him at the hip, sliding against his exposed skin? Hot. Smooth. The quiver of their muscles contracting together.
She spun the cage she’d crafted for them in a slow circle as the Magic Knights gathered with City Guards and Tempest to support them, waiting for her to present her challenge while staring at the highborn teens.
The intoxicating stimulation of Anala’s sweat-slicked hair, held against Drake’s nose as he samples the scent of amber—that hint of pine and leather, with a heavier, balsamic, and slightly smoky aroma from her daring assault, burning her own clothes and skin…
“Empress, you’re distracting me!”
Hmm. Am I? she teased, sensing Lilya’s thickening throat through her link to the Nexus as Castria’s muscles began to tense up from the picture she was crafting in the girl’s mind; these were new things to these women, both born in this medieval and magical world.
What part? Can’t you see her hands tracing his back? How it quivers at the touch of her fingernails? What must Anala feel pressing against her breast, hmm? Drake must be enjoying himself, as well; do you see the cool touch of his hand to numb her burns and ease her pain? What about that shiver that runs down his spine as Aura samples Drake’s neck from behind, her fingers tracing his hard abs, the pressure of their joined bodies writhing—
“Empress, stop!” Castria begged, body temperature skyrocketing as her mind continued down the fantasy Elinor was crafting, making Tiffany almost lose control over her ritual while doubling over. “Why are you just letting your words hang so people keep looking at them?! This is cheating and unfair!”
Oh? The Witch Queen cooed. I do think you are being a tease, Empress, despite how much I enjoy this gift you’ve given Drake. I’m sure nothing will spark between our hot and cool teens from this fateful encounter with The Raven Empress.
“Tiffany, you are the worst!” Castria cried, now probably seeing herself in that line since she’d been brought back from the dead naked in front of the boy she had a crush on. “Can you just punch someone now, Empress? Please!”
“Agreed, Queen Castria,” Lilya sighed. “As much as I am intrigued by this line of conversation, you are causing doubt to set in with the other Tempest in her ability to channel the required mana to incinerate you, which is contrary to your plan.”
“Thank you!” Castria huffed through the Nexus, returning to her task as everyone grew antsy in the stands; a few jumped as a new attack came. “Really?!”
Elinor sent a pulse of electricity through the network to project two somewhat thick silken ropes to snatch Her Tempest out of the air, only for a few Tempest to throw them off course; she still managed to snag one of the noble girls that fumbled her defensive wind, unable even to pipe out a scream as she was pulled into the sticky interior.
“Glacia isn’t good at Wind Magic… She was nice.”
Now she’s dead, Elinor chuckled, waiting for the comeback.
“Captured! She can be saved,” Her Sorceress snapped.
A few bolts flew at her from the City Guards gathering to support the candidates; she saw Lieutenant Cole leading the crossbowmen unit. She hardly had to move to evade the attack, the citizens now breathing heavily as they felt the tension rising. Her head tilted to the side as the projectiles didn’t even penetrate her web network; [Strategic Mind] was probably the reason she’d rattled her Queen of Storms. How her new Feats interacted was so interesting.
[Warlord: Soldier’s Spirit]
[Time Remaining: 34:34]
What must be going through Drake’s mind with two girls sandwiching him? Dad always said to watch out for what went through guys’ minds. Pausing, she pondered, observing the three struggling teens. I think he underestimates what goes on in a girl’s head.
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