Hello everyone, a new work has been released! If you find it appealing, kindly take a moment to check it out and consider adding it to your library.. [Ashes of God And Devil]
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*****
Then Elyra, practically skipping forward. "I'm Elyra Ophionaris! And I'm all his. Wherever Thena goes, I go too!"
The room brightened faintly, as though the very air recognized the offering.
Sophia approached, holding a velvet tray. Upon it lay six silver chokers, identical to her own, engraved with the Black King's name. One by one, she fastened them around the sisters' necks.
As the final clasp snapped into place, she whispered: "Now you are truly ours. And we are his."
From the edges, the Medusas bowed as one.
The Room of Ascendance was complete.
---
The Medusas left the chamber in reverent silence, leaving the six sisters kneeling at the center, their silver chokers gleaming beneath the unnatural starlight. Sophia remained standing, her gaze passing over each of them as if measuring their readiness.
"Rise," she commanded softly.
They stood, one by one, the weight of devotion settling across their shoulders like a mantle. There was no ceremony, no applauseâonly a feeling that something fundamental had shifted. No longer princesses of a fallen people. Now, they belonged to something greater.
Sophia guided them down another corridorâa narrow path lined with runes glowing faintly blue. The air buzzed with magic, and the sound of rushing water echoed faintly ahead.
"There is one final step," Sophia said without turning. "You've pledged yourselves with word and will. Now, the body must follow."
They emerged into a smaller chamberâa sanctum of moonstone and mist. A spring bubbled at its center, its crimson gold waters glowing faintly with magical light. As the walls the ground was filled with polished smoth obsidian scales with golden threads on them they were everywhere it felt the whole room and floor was made of these scales.
Saphyne inhaled deeply. "An anointing?"
Sophia nodded. "The water holds magic and blood drawn from the Dragon King's own scales he shades and all the blood we naturally could get gets here. It binds the last of your resistance and nourishes what you've given."
Kaelith stepped forward without hesitation, removing her boots and stepping into the pool. The thick water barely rippled.
Sophia nodded approvingly. "Let it touch every part of you."
The others followed, slowly. Saphyne walked with regal grace, sliding in like a practiced dancer. Valea hesitated only long enough to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear before entering. Mirania clutched her arms nervously, but Saphyne took her hand, guiding her gently. Elyra dove in with a giggle, splashing Mirania in the process.
Thena was last. She stood at the edge, the steam curling around her legs, her jaw tight.
Sophia's voice was calm. "You do not lose power by submitting. You gain it."
Thena exhaled sharplyâand stepped in.
The water surged. A pulse of warmth spread through the chamber, and the runes on the walls brightened.
Sophia stepped back, watching.
Saphyne, with her sultry grace and unshakable calm, was a natural. Like a spider weaving a patient trap, she offered herself willingly once the moment was right.
Kaelith, with her cool logic and hunger for knowledge, needed only purpose and reward to remain loyal. She closed her eyes and let the water surround her like a ritual.
Mirania, gentle and hesitant, clung briefly to her sister's hand before letting go, easing into the warmth. She smiled faintly, comforted by the presence around her.
Valea ran her fingers through the glowing thick crimson water, whispering to herself, already cataloging the sensations. Endlessly curious, she would bind herself with gratitude if given access to magical tools and scrolls.
Elyra floated on her back, humming. She needed no promises, only closeness. Her joy, her laughter, was a balmâand she would always follow where her sisters led, especially Thena.
And Thena herselfâŠ
She sat rigidly at first, eyes narrowed, spine straight. But as the water's warmth seeped in, her shoulders loosened. She looked at her sistersânot as rivals or burdens, but as kindred souls. Her pride didn't leave her. It simply bent, transformed into something sharper. More focused.
Sophia stepped forward once more, now holding a dark bowl etched with ancient script.
"One sip seals the bond," she said, dipping the bowl into the glowing water.
She held it to Thena first.
"Drink."
Thena met her eyes. There was no fear left. Only acceptance. She drank.
One by one, the others followed.
As the final drop was consumed, the pool shimmered. The runes on the walls pulsed and dimmed. The ritual was complete.
The six sisters stepped out of the pool, their hair clinging to their skin, the silver chokers glinting as if newly forged. Something unspoken passed between themâa sense of unity forged not through blood, but choice.
Sophia raised her hand, voice quiet but firm.
"From this day onward, you are not sisters of ruin. You are Dragon Maids of the Black King."
They bowed.
Behind them, the mist slowly thickened, obscuring the sacred spring. Only those who had stepped within would remember its warmth.
All of it now belonged to him.
And so did we.
---
Inside the sacred Dragon Pond, bathed in a mystical shimmer of soul-infused waters, I sat motionless upon my obsidian throneâeyes closed, breath steady, senses sharpened to a transcendent level. Around me, the vast palace hummed with dormant energy, and though silence reigned, I was deeply aware of everything that transpired within its grand walls. My perception, honed through layers of training and transcendence, enveloped the palace like a living veil. I could easily extend my awareness beyond this domain if I so desired, but for now, I focused inwardâmastering the unseen, nurturing vision beyond sight through the crystalline lens of my Third Eye.
This was no idle meditation. My mind was an ever-churning crucible, constantly crafting, refining, and testing theories. My vast array of powers was a treasure trove few in existence could comprehend, let alone wield, and yet I had only scratched the surface of their potential. Outside of combat, many of these abilities remained underutilizedâsleeping giants waiting for purpose. I sought not just to win battles, but to evolve my creations itself, to use my powers as tools of artistry, innovation, and rewriting.
Take for instance the fusion of Draconic Might and Soul shake of my third eye. If I merged these two with my, I could exert complete dominance over the minds and souls of lesser beings. The catch, of course, lies in soul calibration. It must be tuned precisely to avoid fracturing or extinguishing the target's essence. A careful push, not a crushing blow. Subjugation without annihilation. Dominion through resonance.
Or consider my Third Eye, a living cosmic engine of perception. It granted me 360-degree vision, far beyond the physical. Layered with soul detection, energy mapping, and elemental resonance, it became a tool akin to Observation Haki, but far more advanced. Due to my overwhelming soul presence, its range was staggeringly vast, able to penetrate through matter, energy.
Even my simplest spells, such as those from Void, bore destructive potential far beyond their intended design. A mere illumination spell, when infused with my devouring essence, could siphon vitality from any entity it touched. Where a novice mage would conjure light, I summoned a soul-searing flare capable of draining armies. It could create devastating effects on many worlds seen or read about in my previous life I know as it will suck away the strength of any creature touched by that light.
Draconic Vitality and Atomic Furnace worked in tandem to regenerate my body in ways no natural system could. The furnace within me processed all forms of energyâheat, radiation, kinetic forceâconverting them into fuel to perpetuate my life force and magical power. Even cosmic radiation became nourishment. I was a self-contained reactor, endlessly feeding my might.
Dragon Breath, enhanced through Magic Flame, Poisonous Aura, Frost, or Purple Thunder, could be refined to suit every opponent. One breath and I could bring entire climates to their knees. I could infuse the breath with the slow-death essence of Black Water. Or I could convert it into Radiant Force Field, turning it into a barrier of light that blinds and burns.
Meat Eater might sound savage, but with Master of Blood, it allowed me to feed not just physically but spiritually, taking the essence of any creature I consumed and transforming it into pure skill potentialâlearning, evolving, becoming. And with Soul Swallowing, that process became complete: I didn't just kill, I inherited.
Fly, when combined with Vibration Perception and Multi-Headed Dominion, gave me total spatial awareness during aerial combat. I didn't just see the battlefield; I heard the fabric of air tearing, felt the echoes of time itself in motion.
Friend of the Forest allowed me to dominate ecosystems, while Plant Growth turned battlegrounds into blooming traps. With a single breath, I could convert wastelands into sentient jungles ready to ensnare armies.
The Blessing of Sacred Might could be my trump card. When invoked, it amplified all physical and magical stats in a holy cascade, temporarily elevating me into something beyond mortal comprehension and with combinating it with Overdrive Mod âI could reach powers much higher than my current self.
Every day, I sat here in this throne of stillness and potential, not wasting time, but preparing for the inevitable next chapter. The moment where I wouldn't just react to threats but define the world itself. When I would create new racesâdragon-kin who would wield fragments of my essence, civilizations bound to elements, concepts, and forgotten laws. I wasn't just a dragon.
I was the incubator of a new age.
And the world hadn't seen anything yet.
As nowadays, most of my time is spent either thinking about how to create new races or unique creative ways to utilize my powers, as I have too many of them. Most of them aren't used outside of battle, even though I hardly ever use more than five of my abilities on a single opponent.
I was just lost in thoughts.
I noticed that the girls approached the dragon pond and opened my crimson eyes with a smile.
The door to the room opened and Sophia entered with Thena, Elyra, Valea, Kaelith, Miranda, and Saphyne, three sisters either side of her, wearing sexy maid outfits with black silk wrapped around their legs.
I looked at their appearance with admiration.
Sophia showed pride in noticing her gaze, then approached where I was sitting and sat on her knees with a smile in front of me.
The six beside her followed her actions.
"My great lord, your loyal maids are ready to serve you."
I smiled, then got up from my throne and motioned for Sophia to get up.
She got up and approached me. I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her closer to me, then kissed her.
Sophia pressed her body to my chest while She wrapped her arms around my neck. Our lips met in a passionate kiss as our tongues wrestled inside each other's mouths.
My hands felt her full ass and my fingers felt the silky fabric of her skirt. My hands climbed up from under her skirt and grabbed her ass and started moving the mass of flesh that each hand held in circles.
As my gaze lingered on the collar resting delicately around her neck, the memories of that day stirred within me â vivid, unforgotten, and laced with meaning. Even now, I can recall it all with perfect clarityâŠ
---
Time had passed since their transformation â since the Dragon dependent and the rest of my devoted handmaidens had undergone the infusion of draconic energy. As a natural byproduct, patches of black dragon scales had bloomed across their bodies â thighs, collarbones, the curve of an ear or the bridge of a hip â a sign that my essence had taken root in them.
To them, it was a living emblem, proof of their service, their devotion, and their place beneath my wings. They wore those scales with pride â no different from a knight's sigil or a mage's crest.
Yet⊠I found them lacking in grace.
There was something jarring about seeing my likeness reflected across so many. Perhaps it was vanity, perhaps preference â or perhaps the simple fact that I did not wish to take those into my bed who looked even remotely like myself. I was not so self-absorbed as to indulge in that kind of mirrored desire.
And so, one quiet afternoon, I called them to the dragon pond â a place where power and peace coexisted.
One by one, as I turned them into void angels, I laid my hands upon them. With a flicker of intent and a whisper of void, I peeled away the scales from their skin. What was left behind was smooth, perfect, untouched â the kind of beauty unmarred by mutation.
They protested softly at first. Not out of fear, but out of sorrow.
"My lord... they mark us. They show the world who we belong to."
I smiled, faintly, as I released a breath of warm black fire â not destructive, but purifying. "You misunderstand. I do not need marks etched in skin to affirm what already lies engraved in your souls."
I looked each one of them in the eyes â thousands of loyal souls kneeling in silence, each bearing a fragment of my power, and far more of my trust.
"Your loyalty is not something I need to brand or prove," I said, voice low but resonant. "Just as gravity needs no explanation, your devotion is immutable, unquestioned. The world will see it in your eyes⊠in your aura⊠in the way the void itself bends to your will when you walk. Your souls already sing of it. But if you wish for something... visible â something symbolic â then let it be something that reflects not my flesh, but your choice."
That night, I had blacksmiths craft the collars. They were not shackles. No chains. No marks of ownership.
They were keepsakes â elegantly designed and bound with enchantments woven from stardust and dragon's blood. Each one was a whisper of their bond to me. Proof, not of just submission, but of also loyalty offered freely.
When I offered them, they accepted without hesitation. Not because I commanded it â but because they desired it.
Now, the scales are gone. But the collars remain â personalized tokens only they are permitted to wear. A gentle reminder to the world that these women are mine not because I just claimed them, but also because they chose to serve, to love, to follow.
Not one of them ever asked for the scales back.
Because now they bear something even more precious â the willful collar of devotion, a mark far stronger than any scale.
*****
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