After ten thousand years within the Sacred Dimension of pure lust... Ash and his women were all satisfied and it was finally time to get down to business.
Together they sat in the throne room.
The chamber was vast—Golden light poured from the domed ceiling. The floor was polished black marble that seemed to hold stars.
At the center rose Ash's throne—forged from pure mana, no solid material at all, just condensed golden essence shaped into sweeping curves and sharp angles, glowing softly as though breathing.
Ash reclined in it casually—still in his signature baggy sweats and loose shirt, though the fabric now shimmered with faint dimensional essence from his recent evolution.
Aurora sat curled in his lap like she belonged there.
She had grown noticeably clingier over the ten thousand years—her long white-blue hair spilling across his chest, golden eyes half-lidded in contentment, music symbols spinning lazily as she nestled against him.
