Maliande continued to grumble and scream internally. It was pin to see for anyone with the slightest experience with brats. The quivering lip, the snuck in gnces, the blushes and the chewing on her own cheek, all manifestations of the interpy between wanting to be made to give in and keeping a sembnce of pride.

  Adorable.

  “Alright, out of the bed,” he told her. “You must be hungry.”

  The mention of food had a cascading effect. First Maliande looked around, then she suddenly realized a different bodily demand. She did not have to ask where the bathroom was. She disappeared in it. Rykard counted down internally.

  “NO!” he heard her shout from the closed room. He chuckled to himself and made his way to the table. Maliande finished what she needed to finish, before darting out of the room. “What have you done, Sir?!” she screeched and waved about the tattered remains of her clothes.

  Rykard did not point out that she stuck to his title. Normalcy needed no spotlight. “I’ll get you something nicer,” he promised her. “Now, join us. We ate already, but we have much to discuss. You must want to know what the Divine Game is?”

  Gears turned in Maliande’s head for all of one second. Rykard may have treated her like a toy to be broken, but she was a genius. As of this moment, Maliande knew nothing about the status of the Divine Game, whether it had started or not, nor could she head out of the room in her current state of undress.

  Looking around the room, Maliande found a simple bnket and draped it over her shoulders. A futile measure more than anything. Rykard had seen it all already and it hid nothing more than her shoulders once she was situated in the chair. She could hardly reach for the bread on the table without revealing her petite breasts. She tried. Rykard let her get her fill, making idle chatter with his haremettes.

  “You can start talking now… Sir,” Maliande half-demanded, her belly now full, and wrapped the bnket tightly around herself. She was a head of messy hair poking out from dark cotton.

  “Very well, to begin with, as you can see I have added Tess and Altana to my harem.” Rykard gestured at the two former Contestants.

  Maliande gnced at the two women. Any surprise she felt at this fact must have been dealt with quietly over the course of breakfast. When she wasn’t sputtering about, the Thunder of Laughter could be analytical. “You already know my Miyo. This here is the daughter of Lord, another Contestant, her name is Punk.” The Hellcat waved mischievously. “And this here…” Rykard gestured at the shortstack in his p. “...is the goddess Subana.”

  “H-HUH?!”

  “Pleased to make your… hmm… acquaintance,” the stackylim gasped slightly. Rykard was currently satisfied, but his hands could never get enough of kneading huge breasts. Therefore, he was using her truly divine chest as his personal squishing toy. An act that had Subana aroused for many reasons, least of all was the sensitivity of those mountains of pliable flesh.

  “Don’t screw with me, that’s not a godd- Oh, magic’s flow, it is Subana!” The realization hit Maliande when she studied the aura of the shortstack and the innate divinity that still clung to her diminished presence.

  “You are familiar with me? I expected as much,” Subana smiled with aroused gentleness. “The brat is one of the many forms a fated submissive can take. You are where you belong, Maliande.”

  “I- shut up!” Maliande snapped and pulled the bnket tighter around her. It had slipped somewhat during her little tantrum. “This cannot be legal!”

  “Arrangements were made,” Rykard answered for his divine cocksleeve. “This is beside the point. Now that I have introduced you to everyone, let me share with you the current state of the Divine Game.”

  Maliande calmed down and listened to him. It helped that he stayed matter of fact through the whole deal. He told her everything that had happened from the moment Rykard had arrived up to them getting locked in their rooms. He left out any personal details and he did not tease her any further either.

  “So, Sir…”

  “You can drop the Sir for now,” he told her with a gentle smile. “This is a conversation between equals.”

  “I… uh… y-yeah, of course it is!” Maliande stuttered, her expression reflecting yered confusion. She caught herself. “So, Rykard, I am a day te… so could you stop holding me here and give me those oh-so-great clothes already? I need to check out the corpse!”

  Rykard tapped his chin with a single finger.

  “Actually, you don’t… because I already solved it,” Rykard told Maliande.

  “Oh?” The leader of the Divine Spires observed him without any attitude. She gnced around the table. Her eyes lingered on Tess for a moment, then snapped to him. Despite not having been there, she was clearly able to make the correct assumptions with the limited intel she had. Too bad for her, she could not prove any of these assumptions. “Okay, my erudite mind has worked this out already: you want to sell me second pce.”

  Miyo ughed quietly and brushed over the light swell of her belly. “Remarkably quick - maybe your bravado isn’t all empty.”

  “Unlike your head,” the brat sassed back.

  “We could test this over a game of chess ter,” Miyo offered. Rykard had not told Miyo about his pn to offer Maliande the rare chance to converse with actual peers. Such statements were unnecessary for his queen. Their spirits were as one on such matters. “I’m certain we can have enlightening conversations.”

  “I have much I could answer for you,” Subana added with a wink.

  Punk ughed. “I don’t, but I could look good in the background.”

  “My purpose would be simir,” Altana stated.

  “Don’t put yourself down,” Tess stated and suddenly straightened up. “I’m pregnant… I can’t drink wine anymore.”

  “Such are the sacrifices you make for the honour of my seed,” Rykard teased.

  Miyo poured a little bit of water into her cup. She drank it with the same grace as she would have tea. “Solidarity demands that you quit drinking as well, Rykard.”

  “I shall consider,” he responded sincerely. It would be a minor sacrifice and one that may be healthy, if only symbolically, for the harmony of the harem. The mark he left on them cured them of the most unwanted effects of pregnancy. Still, they were sacrificing the enjoyment of alcohol and other substances, their physical bance, and ultimately their comfort for him. It would all be worth it, as it had been for every generation that had come before them.

  The matter of his sacrifices was for another day, however.

  “You are correct in your assumption,” he told Maliande. “I’ve managed to distract everyone else from the truth of the matter. My first pce has been confirmed by the gods, but the others do not know this yet. I can offer you the truth and the second pce. Of course, I have conditions.”

  “Do we know yet the extent of the influence we will have over the sky?” Maliande asked, to which he shook his head. “Alright, to start with then: whatever terms you suggest, I will not relent on two points. One, I wish to draw upon this world the lightning strike array.”

  “Mhm… does it look like this?” Rykard asked and drew a shape into the air with illusion magic. It appeared like two lightning bolts striking a rod grounded in a circle.

  “Yes,” Maliande answered with a nod.

  Rykard had seen the sigil in texts he studied. While his world had not had it, Contestants that had made it had known it and passed down the effects. Simply, it boosted the effects of lightning spells in the world, but a little known extra effect was that it allowed communication via electric currents between worlds that had the sign.

  “You would use it to contact other worlds before summoning them with specific phrases,” Rykard gave his analysis. “Interesting. Your second point?”

  Maliande gave him a gre of begrudging respect. “I want my own consteltion. If I can have it, then I will make it. No wiggle room! Those are my terms.”

  Rykard nodded again. She said those were not negotiable, but he knew that he could probably bend that if he wished to. More interesting than what he wanted to deny her was the question of what she could give in return. Part of her reward was far from the only thing he could ask for.

  A scan of the situation was in order.

  “I hear your terms,” Rykard said simply. “Before I present my own, I would like a basic summary of your situation. I have gathered that you lead some kind of magocracy. Tell me more about the Divine Spires.”

  “The Divine Spires are the most awesome collection of power in the world and I am the most decorated student to ever pass the true magus trials,” Maliande boasted readily, pushing her chest out in the process. Rykard chose not to point out that her perky, petite breasts were fully visible because of that. “To put it really, really simply, the name stems from the collection of mage towers that make up the majority of the city. Unlike stupid wild mages, we respect the divine powers, so we don’t blow up the environment every twenty years. Because of that, we are prosperous and powerful.”

  “Would I qualify as a wild mage?” Rykard asked.

  Subana chuckled, wiggling her butt against his groin. “No, Master, you would qualify as a tamer mage.”

  “Accurate,” Altana agreed readily.

  “Urgh, bunch of perverts,” Maliande compined, still not realizing that her bnket cover was more of a loose mantle now. “Obviously, the Divine Spires provides a bunch of magical items. Mana crystals, enchantments, alchemical ingredients, we have all of that in spades. Our whole economy is based on the needs of mages.”

  “Interesting… do we need such services?” he asked Miyo. Since she ran the day to day of his growing empire, she would know the limits of the economy.

  “Need? No. Could make use of? Yes. We have plenty of manpower, crafters, and raw resources, but enchanters and such we are retively short on. Mana gems are also in phenomenally low supply within our nations, which hampers the artifice we will no doubt advance in.”

  “Ew, artifice,” Maliande did a theatrical wretch.

  “You dislike it?” Tess asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s magic without the refinement and the respect,” the Thunder of Laughter stated, arms crossed. “Just a bunch of wires, runes, and conductors, demanding that mana become what they want by using maths and stuff. You give a mage a wand and they’ll use it with the due diligence of thousands of hours of practice. You give a random guy a lightning stick and they’ll fry their neighbour.”

  That was certainly a perspective to have and not the least reasonable one Rykard had ever heard. “What is the political structure of the Divine Spires? Are those without magic totally excluded?”

  “Why would we exclude 90% of the popution?” Maliande sounded weirded out by the suggestion. “The mundanes have three representatives on the council of seven. One for the farmers, who grow the majority of the food, one for the merchants, who make and sell the items, and one for the warriors, who keep the peace. The mages get the other four seats, one for the alchemists and three more for the three strongest mages around. Strongest mage gets to be leader of the council and ruler, so that’s obviously me.”

  “Am I not a stronger mage than you?” Rykard asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “...T-t-the trials would have to decide that!” Maliande stammered. She avoided eye contact with such a forceful turn of her head that the bnket finally fell fully from her slender shoulders. She noticed, squeaked, and hastened to wrap herself up again. “Is that all you want to know?” she asked, face red with embarrassment.

  “Then let’s make that my first demand: I wish to take these trials. I will visit your nation and you shall invite me to undergo them.”

  Maliande went sck-jawed, then closed her mouth with an audible ‘cck’ of her teeth. “Y-you’re not a graduate of-”

  “That is my demand, Maliande.” Rykard picked up the shortstack in his p and pced her in the air next to him. This was the time to appear a little more serious. “I do not ask for your surrender, only for to let me take the trials. Whatever happens afterwards is what will happen afterwards.” He added a little teasing to the diplomacy. “You wouldn’t be afraid of the result, would you.”

  “No!” she shouted. “...No…” she added quieter. “A-alright, fine, if you want to waste your time visiting me then you can do that! But! You have to do it within a month after the game. I’m not going to sit there and wait for you forever.”

  “That’s agreeable to me,” Rykard assured her. “Second term them, quite simply, I wish for half of your rewards. That is, half of anything that is left after you have done what you have desired.”

  Maliande pressed her lips together. Slowly, she nodded to that as well. “Fine,” she stated. Since she was guaranteed her minimum, she had no reason to deny him, really. “What else?”

  “Nothing else,” he promised her.

  “No ‘l-let me grope your thigh’ or ‘you have to spend another six hours i-in the tub’?” Maliande asked.

  “If I were to demand that, I would not stutter.” Rykard inspected his fingernails. “But no. This is a purely professional negotiation. Are these terms acceptable to you?”

  “...They are.”

  “Shall I?” Tess raised a hand. Shadows in the corner of the room rose slightly, cawing as they went.

  Rykard made a dissuading gesture and Tess let her divine gifts ebb away. “We can trust Maliande. A proud mage does not go back on their promises.” He did not look at her as he said. To do so would have implied a threat, where there was none. The mage king was genuinely extending his trust towards her. “And a promise it is, I swear it by name as Rykard of New Eden.”

  “I swear to uphold my end of the bargain as Maliande Voltika Amusa of the Divine Spires,” the woman answered in an equally regal tone. She did not keep it for long. “Alright, out with it! What happened.”

  “We were locked in this room by a dimensional seal, I broke it for long enough for Tess to escape and she then fought and killed the Butler. Tess, do you confess to these events?”

  “I do,” the raven-haired woman answered evenly.

  Maliande tilted her head slightly, likely because she heard a mental click. She smiled. “Alright, so that’s done… what’s your next move then? I understand that this whole charade is going to keep going until either you or the gods get tired of it.”

  “A splendid question,” Miyo echoed. “Rykard, I advise that we finish this up within the day. We stand nothing to gain from stalling further.”

  Altana nodded. “Lingering gives Loran more time to sway the other Contestants against you.”

  “We also have among the quickest expansion speeds,” Subana analysed. “Not all Contestants are here. Rykard returning to his business means that more of this world will be created in his glorious vision.”

  “Is that how we say ‘horny’ these days?” Maliande drawled.

  “Lust guided by the hand of a wise Master is glory,” Subana swooned.

  “Get used to that kind of worship, you’ll hear it a lot,” Tess remarked.

  “Soundin’ mighty sarcastic for a woman that begged to be bred just a few hours ago,” Punk pointed out.

  Tess hummed melodically. Any kind of annoyance she felt was swallowed up by the reminder of the life now growing inside of her. She gave her ft stomach a gentle brush. “I will miss these abs.”

  Maliande ughed. “Will you even be able to walk if those tits get any bigger?”

  “A concern you will never have to face, washboard,” Tess shot back immediately.

  “You wanna- ah, man, I can’t challenge a pregnant woman, even if she’s unrefined and unpersoned.” Maliande sighed. “You get away with it this time.”

  “Yes… I get away with it,” Tess gave the mage a sharp-eyed gaze.

  Their banter continued to go back and forth. Miyo turned to Rykard again, her emerald gaze expectant. He still had to make a decision regarding their next step.