Northern Preparations : The Ashford Family [R18]

Warning: The content of the following chapter has visual descriptions that might not suit certain readers, I request readers below 18 years of age to skip it. 

Location: Ashford Castle, Bügelsheim Duchy

The grand hall of the Bügelsheim Duchy reeked of decadence. Its vaulted ceilings, adorned with grotesque devilish murals, loomed over the room's centerpiece: a sprawling velvet divan, upon which lounged Duke Rudra Ashford.

His crimson eyes burned like embers, his devilish horns spiraled majestically, and his long curly black hair cascaded over his broad shoulders. He exuded an aura of raw power and wickedness, a mirror to his nephew, Emperor Raphael, but with an air of depravity that was his alone. Beside him, two scantily clad she-devils fawned over him, their delicate hands trailing across his chest as they giggled at his every word.

Before him, his two sons lounged casually on the marble floor like obedient pets.

The elder, Lucan, had sharp features and a predatory smirk, his devilish charm barely masking the malice in his crimson eyes.

The younger, Rüdiger, bore a similar handsomeness but with a more refined, if not disinterested, demeanor.

They both shared their father's black hair and devilish allure. Both sons idolized their father but approached his plans with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Duke Rudra took a long sip from a gilded goblet before addressing his youngest. "Tell me, Rüdiger, how fares your candidacy in the Race for the Throne?" His voice was a lazy drawl, yet it carried an undertone of command.

Rüdiger sighed, leaning back against a cushion. "It fares as you'd expect, Father. The mortals are impressed by my every move, but I find the entire charade tiresome. Must I debase myself to their customs? I care little for ruling over humans."

Lucan chuckled darkly, running a hand through his slick black hair. "Let the boy be, Father. He's clearly more content being your son and toying with mortals than vying for crowns."

Rüdiger shot his elder brother a glare. "Unlike you, Lucan, I do not need constant validation."

Rudra raised a hand, silencing their bickering. "Enough. This is not merely about ruling mortals or securing a throne. It is about ensuring the future of our bloodline."

Lucan leaned forward, his smirk fading. "You mean ensuring we gain Raphael's precious daughter, don't you?"

A wicked gleam lit Rudra's crimson eyes. "Precisely. Magda Valoria. A half-human child, yes, but one with immense potential. Her paternal and maternal mana is vast, and through her, our bloodline can regain what we've lost over centuries."

Rüdiger scoffed, crossing his arms. "Father, I've heard the stories. Raphael guards her like a dragon guards its hoard. He would kill anyone who dared approach her."

Rudra's smirk deepened. "Which is why you will not approach her as a brute. You will charm her. Court her, as these humans do. Win her trust."

Lucan snorted. "And if that fails, there's always the dungeon." He gestured lazily toward the shadows of the hall, where a series of chains and manacles gleamed faintly in the dim light. "Chains and a slice of bread are all a woman needs, aren't they, Rüdiger?"

Rüdiger's lips curled in distaste, though he didn't deny the claim. "I have learned to mimic human customs, Father. If subtlety is required, I can manage it. But let's not pretend Raphael will allow her to leave his side without a fight."

Rudra's gaze turned contemplative, his fingers drumming against his goblet. "You underestimate your skills, my son. You are someone who can send any mare into heat, let alone a little half-human." He chuckled darkly, adding, "If it is any consolation, I have seen her through the eyes of your late brother, Veyron."

He gestured to the corner of the room, where a shattered mirror stood as a grim memento of the two-headed devil Raphael had banished. "Magda bears an uncanny resemblance to Raphael's mother. Ethereal, beautiful, smart, and with mana reserves that rival a male high devil. She is a prize worth every risk."

His tone shifted, now edged with practicality. "The years of femicide and wars have decimated the ranks of women with high devil bloodlines. Now, they can be counted on two hands. Magda's existence is not just rare; it's irreplaceable."

Rüdiger, though only 23, already had two sons. Their mothers were assassins who had come to kill him, but he had imprisoned and violated them instead. These children, born of forced unions, were raised to serve as mana conduits for the Bügelsheim lineage.

His father, Duke Rudra, had sired countless offspring from human and other race assassins sent to end his life. Most of these children were treated as disposable sources of mana. Only two, born of a low-level she-devil, were recognized as true heirs: Lucan and Rüdiger. The rest were considered tools, stripped of any identity beyond their utility to sustain Rudra's immense power.

Rüdiger stood, brushing off his coat with an air of annoyance. His crimson eyes glinted playfully as he addressed his father. "You've told me to focus on Magda, then why did you gift me a concubine last week?"

Rudra's lips curled into a sinister smile. "The arrogant assassin? Clean her up. Or have you already taken care of it?"

Rüdiger smirked coldly. "She won't be a problem anymore. She learned her lesson permanently yesterday."

Lucan laughed, his crimson eyes gleaming with malice. "Good. That assassin thought herself untouchable. It's about time she realized her place."

Rudra's voice turned dark, his words laced with cruelty. "Every assassin sent to this Duchy learns the same lesson, my sons. They serve, they perish, or they bear us children."

Lucan chuckled. "And speaking of children, Rüdiger here already has two sons from his little escapades, doesn't he? Their mothers were assassins who came to kill him."

Rüdiger's expression didn't waver. "They're useful. Unlike most of the bastards wandering this estate. Though young, my half-offspring from the Sasoon and Mio mothers gather and transfer us enough mana without complaint."

Rudra raised his goblet in mock salute. "Indeed, you both understand. The assassins and whores who think they can defy us are nothing more than tools. Most of my offspring are just mana sources. A devil's sons share their mana with their fathers, unlike the daughters who draw mana from them. But only you two, carry the true power of our bloodline."

He paused, his expression darkening further. "Your mother's earlier children were daughters, though high devils, they were worthless. I disposed of them before they could waste more resources. Sons are what matter."

Lucan leaned back on the lavish velvet divan, his smirk broadening as he swirled the dark wine in his goblet. His sharp crimson eyes gleamed with malicious amusement.

"And soon, Magda will join our little collection," he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence. "Don't fail us, Rüdiger."

Rüdiger's crimson eyes glinted dangerously, his posture stiffening as he turned toward the door.

"She won't escape me," he declared, his voice cold and resolute. "Her body, her mana, and her children will all belong to this family. If charm fails, I'll ensure she learns her place."

Lucan let out a low chuckle, leaning forward slightly to pour more wine into his goblet.

"That's the spirit, little brother," he drawled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "And make sure to impregnate her soon. We'll need her lactating as quickly as possible."

Rüdiger turned his head slightly, a faint smirk curving his lips. "Why? To keep your pathetic bastards alive?"

Lucan's chuckle deepened, but his crimson eyes burned with a dangerous glint. "Not just alive. Thriving. The milk of a high she-devil can elevate even the weakest offspring to a higher rank. Imagine the power your lowborn brats and mine could wield with Magda's nourishment."

Rudra, who had been reclining on the divan with the air of a king surveying his dominion, nodded approvingly.

"Indeed," he intoned, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "Women of high devil bloodline are rare. Magda is a treasure beyond measure."

He straightened slightly, his crimson eyes locking on Rüdiger. "Do not fail me, Rüdiger."

Rüdiger gave a shallow bow, his expression hardening into grim determination.

"I will not fail," he replied, his voice unwavering. "I will have her—by charm or by chains."

He paused, letting his words sink in before adding with a faint smirk, "And I will ensure her loyalty, even if it means breaking her spirit."

Lucan raised his goblet, the gleam of sadistic delight flickering in his eyes.

"To Magda Valoria," he said mockingly, lifting his drink in a mock toast. "The future broodmare of Bügelsheim."

Their cruel laughter filled the hall, reverberating off the marble walls like a sinister symphony. Rudra leaned back on his divan, his fingers drumming against the gilded edge as a satisfied grin spread across his face.

The wheels of their wicked plan turned with every passing moment, each man savoring the thought of what was to come.