An oppressive aura emitted from Dyon as though no wasn't an answer. His blood coursed through his veins, rampaging about wildly.

Amphorae's breath quickened, sweat slowly dripping down the crevices of her soft mounds. The enticing view of her quickly rising and falling breasts caused Dyon's grip to tighten. It seemed with how soft Amphorae's flesh was, even the slightest bit more pressure would cause her thigh to deform beyond repair.

"… Take me."

The words had hardly fully travelled to Dyon's ears when he spun Amphorae's body around. Their bodies surged forward as one, crashing into the long, seamless windows that overlooked the dark ocean waves and the high moonlight.

Dyon didn't even bother to remove what remained of Amphorae's undergarments. His fingers slid along the plump bottom, finding the edge to her beautiful lace panties and pulling them to side.

A gasp escaped Amphorae as she felt a large, heated rod pierce her. Her legs wrapped tightly around Dyon's waist, her feverish moans smothered by his hot lips.

Her hands ran through his hair as though she couldn't get enough of his touch. She wanted to feel more, to embrace more. Even with their torsos pressed flush against each other, even with her treasured place being furiously plowed by his member, she wanted to get closer… Nothing seemed like it could be enough.

The cry of a phoenix and the roar of a dragon lit the skies above the Pakal Clan. Unknowingly, the battle between husband and wife had become an auspicious sign bring good fortune for the real battle to come.

Amphorae's fierce red wings instinctually spread from her delicate back, only to be met by Dyon's own. They wrapped around each other, covering the pair in a cocoon of red and gold.

The battle seemed endless, but Dyon was simply too determined to finally conquer this wife of his. In the end, she could only fall limply into his embrace, her eyes as gentle as water as her boneless body was completely taken by this husband of hers.

Dyon looked toward his battle changpao, it must have been decades since the last time he laid eyes on it.

It shimmered with a bright white leather finish, embroidered with silver and gold etchings that exuded a refined, untouchable aura.

The last time Dyon wore this, it was during his first campaign. It was a treasure of the Celestial Deer Sect he truly hadn't been worthy of touching back then. In the end, he realized his own limits and put this treasure away, realizing that it would only hinder him if he used it too early.

But now, things were different. Dyon had long since earned the right to wear this Spiritual grade battle robe.

At that moment, two slender hands glided across his broad back. Pulsing holy will cleansed Dyon's body, ridding it of all lingering impurities.

Amphorae, who had collapsed from exhaustion, finally awoke on the third day, it seemed she was intent on doing what she believed was her wifely duty.

A light smile coated her loveable features as she washed Dyon's body and began to slowly help him dress, seemingly oblivious to the temptation her naked body brought circling around him.

Her breasts bounced with a healthy vigor as she stood to the tips of her toes, brushing Dyon's hair and fixing the sturdy collar of his battle wear.

She thought of memories from the past, steadily completing her work. She remembered Dyon being aghast by the tight bindings around her breasts, even taking advantage of her and the excuse of creating proper undergarments to cup her soft mounds in his hands.

She felt a warm content she hadn't felt before… Trusting in her past self and believing in Dyon in this life… It was a truly wise decision.

Dyon likewise helped Amphorae. Maybe it wasn't exactly traditional, but when was he ever a traditional type of person? Plus, watching Amphorae's tight red leather armor slowly cover her gorgeous figure had an oddly therapeutic effect on Dyon's mind. This sort of beautiful sight, it was his own to witness and enjoy, no one else could.

The Pakal Blood Armor thrummed with an irrepressible killing intent. It alternated in patches of soft cloth, tight waist, arm and thigh belts, and a hard red metal finish. Amphorae almost looked like more of an assassin than an angel.

After seeing the reddened state of Amphorae's wings in true form, Dyon understood that this wife of his had lived a life bathed in blood. He wouldn't repress her desire. Instead, he would lead her down a path of slaughter hand in hand.

**

The Soul Palace Grand Hall was filled with the adorable giggling. The heart-warming scene of a small toddlers playing with a tiger, ape, deer, and turtle was the source of the sound.

Little Alauna happily hung from Shere's neck, swinging left and right. If others could see the sight of a celestial tiger of the slaughter path playing with a small child, they'd without a doubt be shocked.

The adults of the room watched on with laxed, smiling expressions. Little Alauna, Mia, Bella, Aiden and Junior were the warm stars of Planet Soul, maybe only they could make the atmosphere so light.

It was this calm that Dyon and Amphorae entered.

For those who were so used to seeing Dyon in a white t shirt and sweatpants, a style he didn't change even after he became a father, the change was too abrupt and stunning.

He stood at almost 6'9, towering above the average man. His features were sharp, and his eyes piercing.

The imposing aura of his battle changpao was unmistakable. It was nothing like the past where it looked no different from any other piece of beautifully crafted clothing. Now… It truly wafted with the presence of the Celestial Deer Sect's Patriarch.

Dyon smiled toward his wives.

Ri stood with a gown of a fluttering blue, her silver-blue hair almost disappearing into its fold along the small of her back. Her ten beautiful tails gently rested on the marbled floors, but it seemed as though not a speck of dust could touch her.

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