17: Mine
A faint, ethereal chime echoed through Anos's mind as the system's voice resonated within him.
[Master, the skill Lust Clone has been permanently engraved onto your soul.]
The moment the words registered, a surge of familiar yet foreign energy flooded his being. His three other clones—each of whom had indulged in the depths of passion with seven demonesses each—shimmered before dissipating into streams of light, merging back into his core. Their experiences, their sensations, their victories—everything was his.
A smirk curled on his lips.
"So this is the power of absolute indulgence… a technique born from sheer pleasure and conquest."
He sat at the edge of the massive bed, its once pristine silk sheets now drenched in the aftermath of their night-long carnal battle—a mixture of sweat, essence, and the intoxicating scent of his women. The mere sight of it was a testament to his dominance, his ability to bring even the strongest of demonesses to their knees.
Yet, unlike the exhausted beauties who lay tangled across the bed, their bodies twitching from lingering aftershocks, Anos felt nothing resembling fatigue.
Since the day he had transcended into a demon, exhaustion had become nothing more than a memory.
His gaze shifted downward, taking in the glistening remnants of their night that still clung to his sculpted frame, tracing down the hardened ridges of his abs.
An idea struck him.
"Qi is the fuel that brings one's imagination to life… if that's the case, then—"
Raising a single hand, he snapped his fingers.
A faint flicker of Qi-infused heat spread across his skin, vaporizing every trace of sweat, essence, and lingering scent that marred his body. Within moments, he stood pristine, his skin refreshed, as though the night of endless passion had never occurred.
A slow, satisfied smirk formed on his lips.
"So it works…"
This had been an experiment—a simple test to see if his Qi could manipulate the state of his body down to such a minute level. The fact that it had worked so effortlessly only confirmed what he had already begun to suspect.
He was evolving.
His defensive skin—a trait innate to his demonic physiology—instinctively emerged, covering his bare, vulnerable flesh. The natural armor glowed faintly before fading into a seamless, unbreakable layer, ensuring he remained both protected and unrestrained in movement.
With a thought, he willed his status screen into existence.
A translucent panel materialized before his gaze, displaying the measure of his newfound strength.
---
[Cultivation Realms]
Major Realm: Celestial Overlord Realm
Minor Realm: II
[Core Attributes]
Health: 50,000,000 / 50,000,000
Yang: § / §
Qi: 60,000,000 / 60,000,000
[Stats]
Strength: 200,100
Vitality: 200,100
Agility: 222,000
Intelligence: 50,000
Charisma: 15
Sense: 295,000
---
Anos stared at the numbers, his expression frozen in mild disbelief.
"This… is absurd."
He had expected improvement, but this?
His stats had shattered all logical constraints.
Yet, what truly unsettled him was the realization that this was only the beginning.
His fingers flexed, feeling the raw, tangible power thrumming beneath his skin. Even now, his very breath felt heavier, denser, more potent—as if every fiber of his being had become something beyond mortal comprehension.
Furrowing his brows, he addressed the system.
"System, exactly how many Major Realms did I just skip?"
A brief silence.
Then, the system's voice responded.
[Four Major Realms.]
A sharp pause.
His eyes narrowed.
"Only four…?"
His current strength was already beyond comprehension, yet according to the system, he had only leapt across four Major Realms.
That meant there were still far greater heights waiting to be reached.
A slow, predatory grin formed on his lips.
"Then I've only just begun."
____________
As the golden rays of the morning sun seeped through the lavish curtains of the grand chamber, the once-exhausted demonesses slowly began to stir.
The room still carried the intoxicating scent of their previous night's indulgence, a reminder of the overwhelming pleasure they had surrendered to.
Their bodies, though rejuvenated by their demonic constitution, bore the lingering sensation of Anos's touch—an imprint of dominance they would never forget.
Anos sat at the edge of the vast, silk-covered bed, exuding an aura of effortless supremacy. His obsidian hair cascaded over his shoulders, his crimson eyes gleaming with quiet amusement as he watched them awaken one by one.
Selaria Nightshade was the first to sit up, her silver hair cascading down her bare back as her golden eyes flickered with something between defiance and reluctant admiration. Zyphera Drakonis followed, her golden-scaled body still tingling from their shared experience, her predatory eyes scanning Anos as if reevaluating her position.
Nyxara Vailwing stretched her large, bat-like wings, her body glowing with residual energy. Vaelith Sylvaris, ever composed, gracefully adjusted herself, her emerald hair shimmering like cascading leaves. Even Syrentha Bloodflare, whose pride had nearly crumbled under the intensity of Anos's conquest, managed to maintain her signature fiery glare—though it was evident she now saw him in a new light.
Anos smirked. They all belong to me now.
Despite the tension from last night's events, a semblance of normalcy soon returned as the group made their way to the grand dining hall.
The demonesses, powerful figures in their own right, sat at the long obsidian table, each adorned in elegant robes that barely concealed the curves that had been so thoroughly worshipped the night before.
The servants—loyal demons who had long grown accustomed to their mistresses' eccentricities—brought out an elaborate feast. Roasted beast meat, golden fruits infused with Qi, celestial wines that glowed in crystalline goblets.
As Anos took his seat at the head of the table, the conversations among the demonesses carried a subtle tension—not of resentment, but of something unspoken yet mutual.
Selaria set down her goblet of wine and finally voiced what was on all their minds.
"Last night proved your strength in one aspect, Anos," she said, her sharp golden eyes locking onto his. "But we are warriors—demonesses who have spent millennia mastering our crafts. The true measure of power is not just in dominance over the flesh but in battle."
The other council members nodded, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and determination.
Anos leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine casually. "So, you wish to challenge me again?"
Nyxara smirked, her wings flaring slightly. "It would be unfair if only one of us fought you. You took all of us at once last night—it's only fair that we do the same to you."
A ripple of excitement ran through the council. Even those who were still somewhat dazed from last night's intensity were now burning with renewed resolve.
Anos chuckled darkly, setting his goblet down. "All twenty of you at once?" His crimson eyes gleamed. "That's cute."
Selaria's lips curled into a smirk. "Then shall we move to the training grounds?"
The training arena of the Demon Palace was a vast, enchanted coliseum—a place where battles could be fought without fear of destruction spilling into the outside world. Towering darkstone pillars lined the circular battlefield, their surfaces etched with runes to absorb excess Qi and reinforce reality.
Anos stepped into the center, his presence alone sending an invisible ripple through the air. His Celestial Overlord Realm cultivation burned within him, a power so vast that the very fabric of space trembled in his wake.
The demonesses surrounded him in a perfect circle, each standing at their full strength, their eyes locked onto him with deadly focus.
Selaria drew her twin blades, their edges shimmering with a light-devouring aura. "No holding back, Anos."
Vaelith's emerald eyes glowed, the vines around her arms pulsing with draconic energy. "I won't let you overwhelm us as easily as last night."
Zyphera cracked her knuckles, her golden scales hardening like enchanted armor. "Let's see if you can handle us when we're actually fighting back."
Syrentha's blood-red aura flared. "I won't be satisfied until I make you bleed."
Nyxara's shadowy wings expanded. "Don't disappoint us, Anos."
Anos exhaled, his smirk widening. Perfect.
With a single step, he vanished.
The next second—
BOOM!
An explosion of wind erupted as Anos reappeared directly in front of Selaria, his palm already at her throat before she could even react. But before he could tighten his grip—
SLASH!
A burst of vines shot out from Vaelith, aiming to ensnare him, while Zyphera launched a blazing fist toward his ribs.
Anos disappeared again, reappearing above them, his leg descending like a meteor toward Nyxara.
The winged demoness barely managed to dodge, her body flickering into shadows.
From all sides, spells, fists, and weapons came at him. Twenty powerful demonesses, each attacking with the intent to overpower him.
But they were too slow.
Anos's body blurred as he wove through their assault like a phantom, deflecting sword strikes with a mere flick of his wrist, dodging elemental blasts with casual grace.
Then, his counterattack began.
He appeared behind Syrentha, his fingers tracing her spine just right—a surge of pleasure-tinged paralysis locking her body as he whispered, "You're wide open."
Before she could react, he vanished again, grabbing Selaria's wrist mid-strike and twisting it behind her back, his other hand gripping her waist.
A gasp—a mixture of pain and something else.
But then—
"Not bad!"
A powerful shockwave erupted as Vaelith unleashed an ancient Nature Incantation, sending countless spectral dragon vines toward him.
Anos smirked. "Nice try."
He raised his hand—and snapped his fingers.
A pulse of dominance surged outward.
Everything stopped.
Every single one of them froze in place, their bodies refusing to obey them, their knees growing weak as an overwhelming force crushed their resistance.
One by one, they fell to their knees, their eyes clouded with something between disbelief, awe, and deep, irresistible submission.
Anos walked forward, standing amidst them.
"You fought well," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. Only now did the twenty demonesses truly feel the shift. Anos's words were not merely spoken—they were etched into their very souls.
With the seamless activation of Absolute Hypnosis, his voice resonated through their minds, unshakable and absolute.
"But you all seem to have forgotten one thing..."
His gaze swept over them—bodies trembling, breaths unsteady, eyes clouded with a mixture of disbelief and raw, unbidden devotion.
"You all already belong to me."
The moment those words left his lips, a fundamental change took place within them.
It was not mere submission.
Not mere obedience.
It was something far deeper.
The relentless, overwhelming pleasure of Abyssal Dual Cultivation, endured throughout the night, had already eroded the last remnants of their resistance. Their very essence had intertwined with his, binding them beyond the constraints of mere loyalty.
With the final reinforcement of Absolute Hypnosis, the last of their independence crumbled—not in despair, but in an intoxicating, inescapable reverence.
Their bodies, their minds, their very souls had been rewritten.
They were no longer just the Demon Council.
They were his.
Forever.
___________________
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