Chapter 11: The Domain Of Sovereigns

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Domain Of Sovereigns

After seeing Michael take in several breaths, Seraphine stepped in front of the massive gate before turning back to him.

"Close your eyes," she said. "Pull every trace of your energy as deep into your core as you can."

Michael nodded and did as instructed. He focused on the small, newly formed core in his lower abdomen and drew everything inward. At first, his control was lacking, and moving his energy around was difficult, but once he got the hang of it, it became fairly easy.

The moment the last thread of energy settled, a violent gust tore past him.

Cold dread raced down his spine, sharp enough to make his shoulders tense. Without realizing it, he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

It was only after the violent gust settled, leaving behind a soft breeze that swept gently across his face and carried a strange, clean scent he couldn’t place, that he finally relaxed.

Then he heard Seraphine calling out to him.

"You can open them now."

Michael did as he was told.

However, what waited on the other side was no grand hallway or temple.

He stood at the peak of a mountain that seemed to have no base.

Below him stretched an endless sky filled with floating islands, each one linked to the others by thick, rusted-looking chains that somehow still gleamed as if they had been freshly forged.

Two moons hung overhead, casting overlapping silver and pale-blue light across the strange landscape.

Every island was different.

One bristled with towering modern buildings of glass and steel. Another looked as though it had been torn straight from a medieval painting, complete with stone fortresses and winding walls.

At the very center of the strange domain floated the largest island of all—a vast, temple-like structure surrounded by smaller buildings. At its heart stood a stone altar, upon which rested a slowly pulsing core of light.

Michael’s breath caught, and Seraphine’s mouth curved upward at his pleasant reaction.

"Welcome to the Domain of Ranni."

He tore his gaze away from the view. "Ranni?"

"Yes. Undying Ranni. That is my Ren."

Michael’s brow furrowed. "Ren?"

The slight smirk on Seraphine’s face faded. A flicker of genuine puzzlement crossed her features, as though she had expected the word to mean something to him.

"You truly haven’t heard of a Ren?"

"No."

She exhaled, then offered him a small smile. "Then you have a great deal to learn here."

With a casual snap of her fingers, two long swords materialized in the air beside them, hovering steadily. Seraphine stepped onto one with practiced ease and looked at him.

"Climb on."

Michael stared at the second blade floating in front of him. Beneath it lay nothing but open sky and a drop so deep he couldn’t see the end.

Yet he felt no hesitation.

His goal had always been to rise above everything—the ground, the ordinary world, and even the heavens. Hesitating to climb onto an ordinary blade would be absurd.

Slowly, he placed one foot on the flat of the sword, testing its stability, before bringing the other up.

The blade held firm.

A wide, unrestrained grin spread across his face before he could stop it—the pure, almost childlike excitement of someone experiencing something he had only ever read about.

Seraphine, who had been watching him, went still.

She had seen confidence on his face, confusion, even brief fear, but she had never seen this particular expression on him... or on anyone, for that matter. Not over something as simple as standing on a flying sword.

A small, private smile tugged at her lips before she caught herself and forced her expression back under control.

She cleared her throat and tried for a colder tone. "If you’re done playing around, we should go. Or I will leave you here."

Despite her words, she didn’t surge ahead. She kept her pace slow enough for him to match, flying just slightly ahead of him while her chest felt oddly light.

Michael, meanwhile, was barely containing himself. He spread his arms wide for a moment, just like the protagonists in the old novels, and the thought ’I am an immortal walking the cultivation path’ flashed through his mind.

He stayed there for a moment before the image of himself in that pose, along with the thought in his head actually slipping out of his mouth, replayed through his mind.

Quickly, he dropped his arms and glanced around in mild embarrassment.

When he looked toward Seraphine and caught her quietly giggling behind her hand, he couldn’t help but sigh, though a small smile was already forming on his face.

’If it made her laugh, I guess it’s worth the cringe.’

As if on cue, the system chimed softly.

[+76 Emotion Points — Seraphine Voss]

Well, that’s convenient.

Michael still didn’t know how many combined Emotion Points he had, but considering how much the system had been ringing in his head, it had to be a lot—or at least more than enough to create meaningful missions.

His Growth Points, however, still sat at a pathetic 0.0001—the scraps he had earned from the earlier hug mission—which meant he needed his heroines to complete many more missions if he wanted to upgrade anything.

More importantly, the journey here had taught him something useful: the system responded far more strongly to genuine emotion and attachment than to pure physical desire.

That realization left him conflicted.

If he wanted a steady stream of Emotion Points, he would have to slow down, be more sincere, and stop treating every interaction like a race to the bedroom. Even if things eventually became physical, restraint and patience would yield far more than rushing.

He exhaled and steadied himself. ’One step at a time.’

Michael slowly began putting together his plan while trying his best to change his mindset, and before he knew it, they had flown toward a large, green island dense with mountains and wildlife, stopping just short of the central temple island.

Fixing his focus on the road ahead, he followed as Seraphine guided them down onto the highest peak, where a sprawling modern estate sat overlooking the rest of the domain.

She landed first, then reached out to steady him as his sword touched the stone.

The assistance brought him closer than either expected. His body tipped forward; the soft, full press of her breasts met his chest, and one of his hands settled naturally against the warm curve of her waist.

The contact lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough for Seraphine’s breath to hitch audibly. Even Michael couldn’t help but swallow hard. Perhaps it was because of his earlier thoughts about restraint, but the sudden awareness of her mature figure sent a sharp pulse of heat through him that he forced down with effort.

Seraphine stepped back first, turning slightly so the flush on her cheeks was harder to see.

"Follow me," she said. "All the servants are out on assignment, so we’ll have to manage on our own for now. There’s frozen food in the refrigerator and some canned food in the storage room next to the kitchen."

They crossed the courtyard and reached the main door, which Seraphine pushed open with little effort, revealing a warm living room.

Michael stared at her back before immediately hurrying to stand beside her.

"Wait, why settle for frozen or processed food?" he asked. "Wouldn’t something fresh be better?"

She kept her eyes forward. "I can’t cook."

Michael’s steps slowed. ’A hundred years old, and she still can’t cook? She has to be joking.’

He quickened his pace again to catch up. "Haha, nice joke, Dean."

Seraphine stopped and turned, fixing him with a sharp look. "What exactly is so terrible about not knowing how to cook?"

Michael met her gaze with a completely flat expression. ’Actually, everything.’

He sighed. "You know what? I’ll cook. You can be my apprentice."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "You can cook?"

Michael smirked and rolled up one sleeve. "I’ll have you know I’m one of the greatest chefs you’ll ever meet."

He paused, lifted his arm, and sniffed. His nose wrinkled. "...After I take a bath. And maybe a second one."