Chapter 401: Victory

Ethan’s eyelashes, golden like the strands of his hair, fluttered for a brief moment.

His body throbbed with a dull ache, every muscle protesting even the slightest movement, while his mind drifted through a thick fog that refused to lift.

Slowly, he forced his eyelids open.

He was in his tent—that much was obvious from the familiar scent—but he could barely make out the canvas ceiling above him.

His head rested on Amelia’s soft thighs, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of her dress, the plush flesh cradling the back of his neck like a squishy pillow.

From that angle, her huge tits almost completely blocked his field of vision—two massive, proud mounds rising above his face like pale moons about to collide with the sky itself.

For a moment, he simply remained silent, letting his eyelids drift closed again on their own.

His body had almost fully recovered, but the residual pain was still terrible.

"Mom..." he called softly, his voice hoarse. "Can you give me a painkiller?"

Amelia, who until then had been chatting animatedly with her five disciples and Evelyn, suddenly froze.

"Oh... of course, dear!" Recovering, she waved her hands, and a warm, golden light gently rained down on him.

In the next instant, he felt the pain evaporate, every muscle unclenching at once as a wave of warm relief coursed through his bones.

"How are you? Defeating a fourth-stage warrior while still in the third stage... do you have any idea how much of a shock this will cause throughout the kingdom? Your mother is so, so proud of you!" Amelia simply couldn’t contain herself.

She pulled Ethan toward her with a possessive force, her delicate arms pressing her son’s body firmly against her own chest.

The young lord didn’t resist, letting his face sink into the deep cleavage of those gigantic, milky Y-cup tits.

The two plump mounds molded themselves around his features, an impossibly soft, warm mass that engulfed his head whole. The pillowy flesh parted around his cheeks before closing back over him from both sides, the gentle yet inescapable pressure stifling his breath.

Her scent, sweet and maternal, mingled with the warmth of her bare skin at her cleavage, forming a delightful prison from which he had no intention of escaping.

Feeling that warm, silky skin sealed against his face, he couldn’t help but relax even further, melting into her embrace.

His hands, instinctively, slid down to his mother’s slender waist, his fingers closing around that narrow curve that contrasted so indecently with the fullness of her hips just below and her gigantic breasts just above.

A few seconds later, Amelia finally loosened her grip, allowing her son’s head to escape from that prison of soft flesh.

Her pale tits bounced slightly with the movement, the two enormous globes swaying from side to side in slow, heavy wobbles before settling back into the tight neckline of her dress, still trembling with faint aftershocks that rippled across their milky surface.

Her cheeks bore a rosy glow, and she looked away for a second, brushing a strand of golden hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear with an almost shy gesture.

"Is Zael alive?" Ethan asked, pulling a bottle of Green Fairy wine from his spatial ring.

"Yes, love. I’ve already sealed his aura heart and healed all his wounds, but he hasn’t woken up yet. I think it’s best to keep him asleep until we reach Fallenwinter," Amelia replied, her voice returning to its usual calm tone.

Ethan nodded, forcing himself to rise from his comfortable position.

His eyes swept across the tent, resting on the many beautiful mages filling the space, and his lips curved into a gentle smile.

"You’ve done well. All of you."

The beauties nodded in unison, gazing at him with flushed faces—some discreetly biting their lower lips, others lowering their eyes.

He set the Green Fairy wine bottle on a wooden table, opened it with a soft pop of the cork, and poured the greenish liquid into a glass.

Taking a sip to clear his throat, he finally stepped out of the tent.

The air outside was cold and heavy with the metallic scent of dried blood and churned earth.

Only five hundred soldiers remained guarding the top of the hill, stationed around the wounded still recovering on makeshift beds.

The rest were busy rounding up and imprisoning the forty thousand enemy soldiers.

These prisoners would accompany the legions of Goldenveil back to their hometowns, where the soldiers would reunite with their wives, parents, siblings, and children before the captives were distributed among Green Leaf—which would receive all the elves—Fallenwinter—which would receive all the humans—and Windmere—which would receive all the dwarves.

And, of course, Ethan also had his own tasks to attend to.

First and foremost, he needed to connect Goldenveil to the three cities and the three cities to one another, establishing transportation systems to ensure there was enough food, since, at the very least, these three cities would be receiving eighty thousand new citizens.

Creating a rapid transportation system for cargo and people between them would be the first step toward securing his absolute control over the region.

In addition, Ethan would have to build new houses and warehouses, and perhaps carry out repairs and expansions.

Fortunately, this last part would be easily resolved thanks to his ability to build instantly and the massive reserves of gold he possessed.

"My Lord!" Doran’s voice echoed as he hurried toward Ethan, his boots leaving deep marks in the earth.

Ethan turned his head, looking at the commander of Goldenveil’s armed forces.

A clearly weary expression marked the man’s features, and his armor was still stained with dried blood.

"I see you’re working hard. You’ll be well rewarded, just like every soldier of Goldenveil," Ethan said with a smile, giving Doran a firm pat on the shoulder.

"It’s nothing more than my duty, my Lord." Doran bowed his head respectfully. "We’re already finishing up preparations for the prisoners. The legions are divided and ready to march, and we’ve already sent four cohorts—two thousand men—to clear out the massive goblin camp. Cain and Vaelith are leading this force."