Chapter 353: Entering The Celestial Dragon Emprie

The carriage of the Jade Serpent Merchant Guild was less of a vehicle and more of a moving palace, a testament to the obscene wealth that flowed through the veins of the Celestial Dragon Empire. The wheels were enchanted with silencing runes and stabilization matrices so potent that the ride felt like floating on a cloud, completely divorced from the rough, dirt roads beneath them. Inside, the air smelled of crushed jasmine, expensive incense, and the heavy, musky scent of arousal.

The interior was a single, massive chamber dominated by a bed wide enough to accommodate a small army, draped in silks the color of blood and gold.

Alaric lay in the center of this nest, his head resting comfortably on a very soft, very specific pillow.

“Is my dear student comfortable?” Professor Lilliana whispered, her voice a husky purr that vibrated against his ear.

Alaric looked up. The view was spectacular.

He had designed this outfit himself, pulling from memories of a life long past, a life of flashing screens and forbidden images. He called it the “Educator’s Burden.”

Lilliana, the dignified Archmage, the woman who had once lectured him on the intricacies of elemental theory, was wearing a white shirt so tight it looked as though it had been painted onto her skin by a master artist. The fabric was strained to its absolute breaking point. The buttons down the front were holding on for dear life, pulling the fabric apart to reveal tantalizing glimpses of the creamy, heavy flesh underneath.

Her massive breasts, freed from the confines of a robe, were smothered together, creating a deep, cavernous cleavage that was currently pressing against Alaric’s face like two soft, warm storm clouds.

She wasn’t wearing glasses. She didn’t need them. Her eyes were sharp, clear, and burning with a mix of scholarly intelligence and the glassy, vacant look of a woman who had been thoroughly broken in. She wore a short, black skirt that barely covered her ass, and sheer black stockings that hugged her thick, luscious thighs, the texture rough and pleasing against Alaric’s cheek as he turned his head.

“Comfortable?” Alaric grinned, reaching up to trace the line of a button that was struggling against the mass of her tit. “Professor, I’m in heaven. Although, I think this button is about to surrender. It’s fighting a losing war against gravity.”

Lilliana giggled. It was a sound that shouldn’t have belonged to a mage of her standing—girlish, breathy, and utterly slutty. “Perhaps I should unbutton it? To give you a better view for your… inspection?”

“No,” Alaric said, his hand moving to cup the underside of her breast, feeling the heavy weight and the heat radiating through the thin cotton. “Keep it closed. The strain… the way the fabric clings and struggles… it’s hotter. It shows me just how much you’re holding back for me.”

“As you wish, Master,” she breathed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I never imagined… I never thought I would enjoy being your… mistress… so much. To think, I used to grade your papers, and now…”

“Now you grade my performance,” Alaric finished, pinching her nipple through the shirt.

“You always get full marks, Alaric,” she moaned, her hips bucking slightly against the mattress. “Perfect scores.”

To his left, another beauty was hard at work.

Saintess Ceanna, the Archmage Cleric, the holy symbol of his new religion, was on her knees. Her golden blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall of liquid gold, framing a face of pure, beatific devotion.

She was naked, save for a few strategic chains of gold that did nothing to hide her body. She was using her own massive breasts to massage Alaric’s left arm. She pressed his bicep between her soft, yielding flesh, using her nipples to rub aromatic oil into his skin.

Her green eyes were filled with a terrifying, absolute religious fervor. She didn’t look at him like a man. She looked at him like a God.

“Does this please you, my Lord?” Ceanna whispered, her voice reverent. “Is the pressure correct? I wish to use this holy vessel… my body… to soothe your fatigue.”

“It pleases me, Ceanna,” Alaric said, reaching over with his free hand to run his fingers through her hair. “You serve your God well.”

“I live to serve,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her tits harder against his arm, sliding up and down, lubricating his skin with oil and her own sweat. “Your pleasure is my prayer. Your climax is my salvation.”

And at the foot of the bed, completing the unholy trinity, was Lin Ruoli.

The Merchant Guildmaster was completely naked, her curvaceous, stunning body gleaming in the soft magelight. She was currently massaging his calves, her hands strong and skilled, working out the tension.

But that wasn’t all. She had turned her body so that her large, soft buttocks were pressed right against the soles of his feet.

Alaric wiggled his toes, exploring the deep, warm crack of her ass.

“Ah!” Lin Ruoli gasped, arching her back, presenting herself to him even more. “Master…”

“Report,” Alaric commanded, his voice lazy but his eyes sharp as flint. He wasn’t just here to fuck. He was here to conquer. “Tell me about the Empire. Don’t leave anything out.”

Lin Ruoli cleared her throat, her voice trembling slightly as Alaric’s big toe teased her entrance. “Yes… yes, Master. The Celestial Dragon Empire… it is vast. Ten times the size of Jorailia. It is a land of ancient power.”

“The women,” Alaric corrected. “Start with the keys to the kingdom.”

“The… the harem,” Lin Ruoli stammered. “Emperor Huang Long… he collects women like… like rare artifacts. There are thousands in the Outer Palace. But… only a few dozen matter. The ones with power. The ones with backing.”

“Names,” Lilliana interrupted, her mind working on the strategic angle even as she smothered Alaric with her chest. “We need targets, Ruoli. High value. High danger.”

“There are three main factions,” Lin Ruoli explained, trying to keep her voice steady as Alaric’s foot pressed harder against her ass. “Three powers that control the Inner Court.”

“First,” she gasped, “is the Empress. Feng Mian.”

“Feng Mian,” Alaric repeated, rolling the name around his mouth. “Tell me about her.”

“She… she is a monster,” Lin Ruoli whispered, genuine fear in her eyes. “A Half-Step Martial Emperor. She used to be the Sect Leader of the Frozen Lotus Sect. Huang Long… he saw her, wanted her, and… took her. He destroyed her sect to get her.”

“Captured prey,” Ceanna murmured, pausing her massage to look at Lin Ruoli. “Does she have faith? Or just hate?”

“Hate,” Lin Ruoli said. “She hates men. She hates the Emperor. But she is bound to him. She supports the Crown Prince, Huang Jian, but everyone knows… she wants to rule the world herself. She has the ambition of a dragon.”

“A woman with suppressed ambition,” Lilliana hummed, leaning down so her nipple brushed Alaric’s nose. “That is a powder keg, Alaric. A powder keg waiting for a spark. You could be that spark.”

“I intend to be the fire,” Alaric grinned, biting Lilliana’s nipple through the fabric. She cried out in pleasure. “Who else?”

“The Second Princess, Huang Liling,” Lin Ruoli continued. “She is a genius strategist. She doesn’t fight with swords, she fights with minds. She is supported by Concubine Wei, a woman of ’soft knives.’ They control the merchant families, the economy… the flow of spirit stones.”

“Merchants are superstitious,” Ceanna noted. “Concubine Wei might be susceptible to a… miracle. If we show her true power, she might convert.”

“And the third?” Alaric asked.

“The Fifth Prince, Huang Wei,” Lin Ruoli said dismissively. “He is weak. A puppet. He is supported by the old generals and the traditionalist ministers because he is easy to control. His mother is Concubine Lan, a woman who… enjoys the company of many guards, rumor has it.”

Alaric laughed. “A slutty mother and a puppet son. They’re the easiest targets, but the least interesting. We’ll save them for snacks.”

He sat up slightly, pulling Lin Ruoli up the bed by her ankle. She crawled over the silk sheets, positioning herself on all fours over his lap, her breasts swaying.

“What about the fighters?” Alaric asked, running his hands over her hips. “The System… ahem… I mean, I heard there are powerful female warriors in the harem.”

“Yes,” Lin Ruoli breathed, shuddering at his touch. “There are at least ten Consorts who are Martial Kings. They act as the Emperor’s personal guard within the harem. They are… devastatingly beautiful. And deadly.”

Alaric’s eyes gleamed. Ten. Exactly the number he needed.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

He looked at the three women surrounding him. The Mage, the Saint, and the Merchant.

“We’re going to take them all,” he said. “We’re going to turn the Dragon Emperor’s harem into my personal brothel. And you three… are going to help me lay the foundation.”

“How?” Lilliana asked, her eyes bright with intellectual curiosity and lust. “Martialists despise Mages here. They think we are weak.”

“That,” Alaric said, sliding a hand between Lin Ruoli’s legs, making her gasp, “is exactly why we’ll win. They rely on brute force. On Battle Aura. On frontal assaults.”

He looked at Lilliana. “Magic offers utility. Control. Deception. Things their muscle-bound brains can’t comprehend. We don’t fight them head-on. We pick the lock.”

“And the faith?” Ceanna asked.

“They worship strength and ancestors,” Lin Ruoli supplied. “It is… hollow.”

“Then we fill it,” Alaric said. “Ceanna, you will perform miracles. Healing. Light. Things Qi cannot do. You will make the wives of the Generals love you.”

“Yes, my God,” Ceanna whispered, kissing his shoulder.

“Lilliana,” he continued, “you will be my ’assistant.’ We’ll use my artifacts. Technology they’ve never seen. We’ll dazzle them with convenience and luxury.”

“And me, Master?” Lin Ruoli asked, grinding down on his hand.

“You,” Alaric smiled, “are the bridge. You introduce us. You get us into the parties. You show us the targets.”

He slapped her ass, a sharp crack that echoed in the carriage.

“Now,” he growled, his voice dropping. “Enough talk. The journey is long, and I have three mouths to feed.”

The carriage rumbled on, the magical dampeners absorbing the bumps, but inside, the bed began to shake with a rhythm all its own.

For half a month, they traveled. The carriage became a cocoon of debauchery and planning.

Alaric used the time to refine his “portable teleporter” anchors. With Iridelle’s help back at the palace, he had created the master gate. Now, he worked on the receivers.

He sat naked on the edge of the bed, tinkering with a platinum disc, etching microscopic runes with a mana-infused needle.

Lilliana sat behind him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms over his shoulders, watching his work with intense fascination. Every now and then, she would lean forward and lick his ear, or whisper a suggestion about mana flow.

“If you route the spatial tear through the astral layer,” she murmured, “it bypasses the physical wards.”

“Clever girl,” Alaric said, leaning back to kiss her. “That’s why you’re the Professor.”

Ceanna sat at his feet, polishing his boots (he didn’t need them polished, but she insisted on serving), occasionally stopping to suck on his toes or lick his ankles.

Lin Ruoli was usually tasked with managing the guild affairs via communication crystals, but Alaric often made her do it while she was tied up or while he was using her mouth.

“Yes… the shipment of spirit herbs…” Lin Ruoli would say into the crystal, her voice strained as Alaric fondled her breasts from behind. “Ensure… ensure it arrives… oh! …arrives on time.”

They were getting closer to the border.

“The barrier,” Alaric said one evening, looking out the window with his Arcane Eye.

In the distance, the air shimmered. A massive, dome-like distortion covered the horizon.

“The Dragon’s Scale,” Lin Ruoli explained, pulling a silk robe around her shoulders. “A spatial barrier. It covers the entire core territory of the Empire. It prevents teleportation in or out, and shreds anyone who tries to fly over it without a token.”

“It’s crude,” Alaric assessed. “Powerful, yes. But it’s a hammer, not a scalpel. It relies on massive amounts of ambient Qi to disrupt space.”

“Can we bypass it?” Lilliana asked.

“With the teleporters? Yes,” Alaric grinned. “I just need to tune the anchors to a frequency that slides under the Qi distortion. Like whispering under a scream.”

The carriage slowed.

“The border,” Lin Ruoli said, her face paling slightly. “We need to get dressed.”

“Do we?” Alaric teased.

“Master, please,” she begged. “The guards here… they are elite. Half-Step Martial Emperors.”

Alaric sighed. “Fine. Spoilsports.”

He allowed them to dress. Lilliana put on a slightly more modest robe over her slutty teacher outfit, though the collar was still loose. Ceanna donned her white Saintess vestments, looking every inch the holy woman, though her eyes were still hazy with lust. Lin Ruoli put on her Guildmaster’s formal wear.

Alaric dressed in simple, high-quality black robes, playing the part of a wandering cultivator or wealthy merchant.

The carriage stopped.

The door opened.

Outside, the air was crisp and filled with the heavy pressure of powerful auras. Armored soldiers stood in ranks, their armor made of red dragon scales.

Lin Ruoli stepped out first, radiating authority. She presented a Jade Token, glowing with internal light.

“Jade Serpent Guild,” she announced. “Personal caravan.”

The soldiers bowed low. Even in this arrogant empire, money talked.

But then, two old men stepped forward. They wore plain grey robes, but their presence was like a mountain crashing down. The Half-Step Martial Emperors.

They swept their gaze over the group. Their eyes lingered on Lilliana and Ceanna, sensing the foreign magic, but dismissing it as weak compared to their Qi.

“Pass,” one of the elders grunted, waving a hand.

They didn’t care about merchants or their “playthings.” To them, mages were parlor tricksters.

Alaric suppressed his aura, hiding his true power deep within his core. He looked like nothing more than a handsome gigolo or a lucky merchant.

They were led to a massive stone platform. A public teleportation array.

“This takes us past the barrier,” Lin Ruoli explained.

They stepped onto the platform. The world twisted.

Alaric watched with his Arcane Eye as they shot through the spatial tunnel. He saw the barrier up close—a chaotic storm of cutting spatial blades.

’Interesting,’ he thought. ’It’s keyed to bloodlines and tokens. If I replicate the token’s frequency…’

He mentally adjusted the schematics of his portable teleporters. He found the frequency. He found the blind spots.

Flash.

They appeared in a bustling city on the other side. The noise, the smell of spices and exotic beasts, the sheer life of the Celestial Dragon Empire hit them.

“We’re in,” Alaric whispered.

They didn’t stop. Lin Ruoli led them through a series of rapid teleportation hops, moving from city to city to throw off any potential tails, though no one was following.

Three days later.

They arrived at a secluded valley, hidden by natural mists and illusion formations.

A massive estate sat in the center, surrounded by lush gardens, koi ponds, and elegant pagodas.

“My private residence,” Lin Ruoli said, her voice filled with relief. “Not even my husband knows of this place. It is… my sanctuary.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ceanna said, looking around.

“It’s private,” Alaric corrected. “That’s what matters.”

Servants rushed out to meet them. They were all women, all beautiful, and all completely silent.

“Deaf-mutes,” Lin Ruoli explained. “They cannot speak of what they see. They are loyal only to me.”

“Loyal to us now,” Alaric said.

He walked into the main hall of the residence. It was open, airy, and filled with expensive art.

“Alright,” he said, turning to his women. “This is our base of operations. We build the master anchor here. We set up the network.”

He looked at Lin Ruoli. “You have a job to do.”

“Master?”

“I need information,” Alaric said, his voice dropping. “Not just about the women. I need to know about… anomalies.”

“Anomalies?”

“People,” Alaric said, walking over to a window and looking out at the strange, alien stars of the Empire. “Young men. Rising stars. People who have had… sudden strokes of luck. Who survived impossible odds. Who found ancient rings or mysterious teachers.”

’Protagonists,’ he thought, though he didn’t say the word.

“I want to know if there are any… heroes… rising in this Empire,” he said. “Especially ones who seem to attract beautiful women.”

“Why?” Lin Ruoli asked, confused.

“Because,” Alaric grinned, his reflection in the glass looking like a demon, “I’m going to need some… targets. Some stepping stones. And there’s nothing I love more than stealing a hero’s destiny… and his harem.”

“Go,” he commanded. “Use your guild’s network. Find me the ’lucky ones.’ Find me the ones who were humiliated and vowed revenge. Find me the ones with ’heaven-defying’ luck.”

“Yes, Master,” Lin Ruoli bowed and hurried away to the communications room.

Alaric turned back to Lilliana and Ceanna. They were waiting for him, looking expectant.

“Now,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. “The acoustics in this place seem excellent. Let’s test them.”

Lilliana smirked, dropping her robe. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Ceanna fell to her knees, her eyes shining.

The Dragon’s Den was open for business. And the hunt had just begun.