After Reivan returned to Samsara, the following few weeks passed rather peacefully. Which was something he felt thankful for, because he was still a little battle weary after all the fighting he'd done.

Though the fighting was done throughout a whole month, he only perceived it as around a full day of fighting. Still, it was a lot of fighting. A lot of killing. He would be walking down corridors and unintentionally go on high alert when nearing a corner, his fingers tightening as if he was still holding a sword's hilt. Or when anyone made any sudden movements, his mana would roil in preparation.

In more ways than one, he needed this peace.

'Carefully...'

Reivan slowly tried to get out of bed in a way that didn’t rouse the woman he'd been sharing the bed with. But it was hard to do that when she was sleeping right on top of him.

Criselda, one of the concubines he saw most often because she served as one of Dame Gwendolyn's aides, stirred in his arms while groaning softly. Her head lay comfortably atop his chest as the fragrance of her rich brown hair wafted up to his nose. A moment later, she looked up and their gazes met.

"Good morning," Reivan greeted with a smile, his voice still a few octaves lower than usual because he'd just woken up too.

"Ah..." Criselda gazed at him blankly. Her drowsiness was clear for anyone to see. A heartbeat passed. And then another, before she hastily got off him, pulling the blankets up to cover herself. “Uhm, good morning, Your Excellency…”

“Hey, I told you not to call me something so formal when we’re like this, right?”

She pulled the blanket up even higher, concealing half of her face, too. “Reivan…”

He smiled, running a finger through her slightly messy hair. She did not seem to dislike it, though she shyly hid more of her face behind the blanket. “Good. You wake up early, huh? It’s not even dawn yet.”

Criselda nodded. “I’m still a minister, so I want to be early for everything.”

‘So even ministers have it rough, huh? Or is that discipline unique to her?’

In any case, now that he didn’t need to be careful about waking her up, Reivan climbed out of bed and prepared to get dressed, only stopping when he sensed a sticky gaze running up and down his naked body.

Looking back with a smirk, he asked. “Was last night not enough?”

Criselda fully hid herself under the blanket out of embarrassment, not even gracing him with a response.

“Heh.” Reivan didn’t take offense, finding her cute and lovable. He rolled his shoulders and in an instant, he was fully clothed. It was quick and easy if one mastered their soul armament, after all, since they could summon armor too—and clothes were armor, in a way. “Alright, I have to get going. I suppose we’ll see each other later, though.”

Just as he began to head for the door, Criselda peeked out from under the blankets. “Uhm, Reivan…”

His steps halted, and he turned back. “Yes?”

“This… Will this be the last time?”

Reivan’s brows rose in shock for a heartbeat before his lips curled into a grin. “Well, it depends. Sometimes, the pregnancy just doesn’t happen. We did try a lot last night, so I like our chances. A few weeks from now, if you’re still not pregnant, then we may have to try again.”

“I see…” she muttered to herself, unaware that he could hear her clearly. “Then I hope I don’t get pregnant yet...”

It was hard. It was very hard to control his expression after hearing that.

‘Well, it seems she didn’t hate it, at least. That's good.’

It had been her first time with a man last night and he’d wanted her to enjoy a pleasant experience.

And that meant actually sticking around after sticking it in her, being by her side when she woke up in the morning. It was an experience he wanted all of his concubines to enjoy, though it may have been too late for the warbeast concubines because of that incident a few weeks ago.

In any case, Criselda was another name crossed off on the list of three hundred and fifty human concubines he had to give the whole first night treatment. Judging by how the woman herself acted, he could consider this session a success.

She obviously appreciated his efforts. So, taking the time to do it was worth it.

Criselda slowly climbed out of bed, using the blanket as a makeshift robe. Though a little unsteady, she tottered over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, then, Your Excellency.”

Reivan touched the part that her lips had touched. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.” She looked away, turning around to go back to the bed.

“Hm.” Reivan grinned as he licked his lips, his gaze lingering on her body. Oddly enough, being covered just made her more appealing. Her fantastic figure could not be hidden, after all.

Before he knew it, he’d already lunged forward and caught her in his arms. “You know? Maybe I can delay my early morning routine for a bit… What say you?”

Criselda didn’t struggle, perhaps knowing perfectly well what he wanted. “I think that Your Excellency can do whatever he pleases…”

“That’s no good,” he whispered into her ear, playfully nibbling on it. “I don’t want to force myself on you… I need you to say it clearly.”

Reivan freed her from his embrace, but instead of running off, she slowly turned around and looked up at him, the blanket slipping off her shoulders and falling to the ground.

“You… You would not be forcing me into anything…”

Really, that was all he needed to hear to push her down and ravage her anew. There had been… something in that gaze of hers. Something that may have been love or not. Maybe trust? Or desire?

Whatever it was, however, Reivan felt conflicted.

Yes, he wanted to give his concubines an enjoyable experience, and he tried to do just that. Their first time only came around once in their life, unless they somehow reincarnated like him. So he wanted to make it memorable in a good way.

But on the other hand, he didn’t want to unnecessarily lead these women on.

His relationship with them was, at its core, transactional. They would bear children for him and in exchange, he would give them what they’d asked for or simply take care of their needs for the rest of their lives.

Reivan knew that he could never give them the love and affection they deserved. There were simply too many of them to begin with. Time would always be an issue, and would they really feel loved if he only saw them once every few days? Maybe even once every few weeks or months.

Plus, his heart was already set on Helen and Elsa. Maybe there was room for more, who knew? But the likelihood of it was low, in his opinion.

Preferably, once he had enough kids, they would be freed from their shackles. They could find men who would see them and only them. To form a more ordinary relationship with those men, where they could receive the attention they deserved.

The… affection that he built up could be a hindrance to that.

Because if they felt something for him, however low, they might stick around in hopes of finding a place in his heart. And he didn’t want that for them.

Unlike him, after all, their lives were going to be short. Except for the warbeast ladies and the handful of concubines who were also knights—but that's besides the point.

They didn’t have time to wait around. Their youth and beauty could be gone in an instant, hurting their chances of finding someone. It would be a sad thing indeed if they were stuck with a womanizing piece of shit like him forever.

‘Well, for now…’

As usual, he left the concerns of the future to his future self. He felt as if the number of times he could do that was going to decrease soon, but that wasn’t the case right now.

In this room and at this time, he would try to be a decent husband.

 

---

 

"And that is why I believe we should take the eradication of plant life in Arkhan more seriously, Your Excellency."

“I see…” Reivan nodded along to the elderly activist's enthusiastic explanation, sitting comfortably behind his desk.

Weeks had passed since he returned to Samsara, and he was gradually fixing the place up. One of the ways he went about doing that was communicating with his constituents the same way he was doing right now. Though he seemed noncommittal right now, he was actually listening well and was taking everything the old man said into consideration.

It's just the sheer number of people he had to listen to that drained him of his energy. He was still present mentally and spiritually, however.

“I understand your concerns about the severe drop in oxygen sources, my good sir,” Reivan cleared his throat. “And I will admit that my people and I failed to foresee the problem. So first of all, I would like to thank you for stepping forward and telling me about all of this.”

Months—almost a year, actually—had already passed since more than a handful of Transcendents fought each other, with Arkhan as their battleground. Yet even today, he was discovering new ways of how the resulting destruction of that battle harmed them.

'Oxygen...'

Reivan had no idea if the human beings of this world were biologically equivalent to humans of his original world. For all he knew, this world’s humans were subtly different from the ones on the other side. But he was pretty sure that both variations needed oxygen to breathe, and therefore, to survive. And what were the leading producers of oxygen, again?

That’s right, trees.

Oh, and what happened to all the trees in Arkhan again?

The old activist’s mouth curled into an optimistic smile after seeing Reivan’s reaction. “Then does that mean that you agree with my proposal…?”

“That is a separate matter, I’m afraid.” Reivan shook his head with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I do not think your proposal will be an effective solution either. And if I’m being completely frank with you, I don’t think there is an easy way to solve this problem right now.”

Said proposal involved planting trees far and wide, essentially reforesting entire regions. Even if they were regions that weren’t under Samasara’s controlled territory.

While it was a bit of a brute-force approach to remedy the “problem,” and it would have certainly solved the issue if it were viable, it was fundamentally impossible.

“But…” The old man did not seem angry, though he did look a little heartbroken. “Is it because you are concerned by the manpower such an endeavor will take, Your Excellency? If so, I have conducted surveys among my fellows and received astounding results. I’m sure that when the Hierarch calls for laborers, more will gladly volunteer.”

“No, no,” Reivan shook his head. “It is not because of that.”

“Then…?”

“I think you are fundamentally misunderstanding something here…” he explained slowly. “First off, the recurring weather around Samsara does not support the plan.”

The activist’s forehead creased even more than it already was. “You mean the monthly blizzards, Your Excellency…?”

“Indeed.”

“But the households in the other cities are even granted a pair of fruit trees that are thriving—”

“Because of the efforts and powers of Sormon's priests,” Reivan finished. “Which is unsustainable if the coverage area is any larger than it already is. As you may have noticed, priests make their rounds every day, no? It is this power that helps those fruit trees survive cold weather that they weren’t supposed to withstand.”

“Ah…” The old man was at a loss for words, likely having made the suggestion without knowing exactly how the divine powers of the church worked. Which was valid, because not a whole lot of people knew that much about them either.

“I suppose it would be fine if certain conditions are fulfilled,” Reivan leaned back a little and rubbed his chin. “Such as having tree saplings from trees that are innately resilient to extremely cold weather. Nevertheless, Aizen does not have those.”

Aizen’s weather was very mild; summers weren’t very hot, and winters were never too cold. The trees prevalent in its territory were understandably used to mild weather and couldn’t stand anything too drastic. Simply put, the current state of Arkhan would absolutely kill any of the common tree species in Aizen. Or at least turn them into leafless barks of wood that basically existed as aesthetics.

“Putting it into perspective, just look at the Huskies.” Reivan gestured lazily outside. “I’m sure you’ve seen them, but in case your didn't know, they are the large dogs that knights ride sometimes. And in other times, the most docile ones are lent out to the priests to help in their duties.”

“I have seen them, yes… My daughter actually wants one, but I do not believe it plausible.”

"They are very hard to take care of, so I wouldn't recommend it. They're very energetic and will get very cranky if they don't expend that energy." Reivan explained placatingly, though he inwardly noted some exceptions. Such as his own personal husky, which was one of the laziest shits he'd ever seen. After clearing his throat, he then got back to the topic at hand. “Anyway, huskies aren’t fans of the weather in Aizen. We have to specifically create a special habitat where the temperature is artificially lowered, otherwise, they start deteriorating. Eventually, they die.”

Well, they started crying and whining. Huskies of this world were surprisingly similar to the ones of his old world, in that they were also prone to being drama queens. They didn’t actually die that fast, but they wouldn’t like it.

“By comparison, those big mutts love it here.” Reivan chuckled. “If you ever see them sleeping outside in the snow deep into the night, it’s not because we’re being cruel to them. They are biologically built for this weather, to the extent that they refuse to be robbed of the opportunity to enjoy it. Anyone trying to force them inside will get bitten, I assure you.”

“I…”

“In the same vein, my good sir, Aizen’s crops, plants, and trees love Aizen’s weather. And so they would require constant attention from the priesthood. Attention that they cannot spare. There simply aren’t enough priests for such a large undertaking. Even if every single mortal clergyman in Aizen is transferred here.”

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that the Church of Sormon that Aizen knew of was just a sect of the true faith. It was not the whole of it, and was established by the Saintess and those who agreed with her views.

Hence, there weren’t a whole lot of them when compared to the orthodox church.

They were already spreading themselves too thin with their zeal in helping Samsara’s people. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that they literally couldn’t be stretched any further, otherwise, it would start affecting their other operations.

‘Ah. There are other ways to brute force the problem, though…’

There was also a route where they built a great formation array that covered the entirety of Samsara’s territory, with effects of protecting the trees from the cold or something. Alternatively, each tree could just have protective enchantments cast around it.

But while it was theoretically possible, people capable of laying down such formations didn’t grow on trees. Aizen had a lot of them, but even if the entire pool of specialists were thrown into the project, it would take decades to complete—not to mention the obscene amount of resources that would be burned through.

While theoretically possible, it simply wasn’t practical to try that approach.

‘It would have been great if we could actually support the proposal.’

Truly, rather than the old activist’s proposal being bad, it was just a case of the plan being too idealistic.

Gradually, this seemed to dawn on the elderly man as well because he nodded with a defeated expression. “I understand it now, Your Excellency. In hindsight, with how helpful the kingdom and the church have been until now, it would have definitely helped us restore the landscape sooner if they could.”

“Yes…” Reivan awkwardly grinned. “To be honest, I was also somewhat ignorant of the church’s powers. A few days ago, I thought it would be a simple thing to just restore the greenery all over the place. Don’t blame yourself too much.”

The activist’s expression eased considerably, his wrinkled face twisting into a smile. “Thank you, Your Excellency, for humoring this old one’s ramblings.”

“Not at all. We’re all in this together. In the end, it is we who will live on this land. So we cannot be blamed for being concerned with its well-being, no?”

His answer seemed to please the old man considerably, because he was practically beaming now. “Indeed, indeed.”

With that out of the way, the old man hobbled out of his office, leaving a silence in his wake.

“Good work, Your Excellency,” Dame Gwendolyn spoke up from the side, having watched over the entire interaction from start to finish. She was like a statue as she stood there—a very pretty statue. “That should silence the naysayers for a while.”

Reivan shrugged. “Everybody wants to think they know better than their rulers.”

All in all, he’d gotten nothing out of the meeting except for mitigating the seeds of doubt for his regime. The “activist” from earlier had been very vocal about those doubts recently, saying that the government should just do this or that. So instead of having the man arrested for riling up discontent, Reivan had invited him into the palace to prove that his thoughts were made while being incredibly uninformed.

The other people he'd invited today were also like that. Still, Reivan listened with an open mind because they might actually have good ideas.

Even if he'd left those so-called activists alone, Reivan didn’t think that it would have become a rebellion. But any unrest would make it harder to govern. And he needed things to go extremely well in the coming years if he was to pass off his duties to someone else.

‘I absolutely do not want to be bogged down here for too long…’

Making babies and whatnot was great and all, but Reivan was also hungry to seek greater strength. He wanted to chase after Ascension more earnestly.

After they had enough kids, Helen was absolutely going to Ascend. If Reivan couldn’t properly hand over his position in time, then she would completely leave him behind. That was why he had to watch out for small inconveniences like this and make sure they died in the cradle before they grew up to become bigger problems.

Just before he asked Gwen if he had anything else scheduled today, there was a knock on the door. With a snap of his fingers, he opened it with [Formless Will] as a form of tacit approval.

Surprisingly, it was someone he knew.

“Sir Xander…? You’ve returned!”

The man who was supposed to be his guardian knight saluted before stepping into the office. Instead of taking up a post that wasted his talent, however, he was sent out as a scout.

But a couple of weeks ago, he’d been given a different mission.

Reivan raised a brow, sitting up straighter in anticipation of good news. “Did you…?”

“I have returned successfully, Your Excellency.” Xander nodded, the wisps of a smile appearing on his stoic face for just a second. Clearly, he was incredibly proud of himself but didn’t want to seem like a braggart.

The knight walked forward and presented a somewhat large box to Reivan, placing it on the cleared desk.

Reivan took one look at the box and its size. There were faint traces of enchantments on it, too. “This… This has a severed head inside, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Excellency. The enchantments on it are to prevent decay, so it should be very fresh.”

“I see.” Reivan didn’t bother opening it, merely giving it a light tap. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He didn’t mind gore, but that didn’t mean he openly sought it out. There was no need to fill his office with the scent of blood either. That tended to cling for days.

Gwendolyn also offered her praise. “Good work, Sir Xander. As expected of Sir Valter’s progeny. Failure does not come often for you.”

Some people would have hated having their success attributed to anyone but themself, but Xander was not one of them. His smile could not be stopped when he dipped his head toward her. “I will strive to continue being worthy of such praise.”

“And I’m sure you will,” Reivan nodded. “Fantastic job, Sir Xander. Feel free to take a few days off. Perhaps write a letter to home? Your family must be curious about what you’ve been up to.”

Sir Xander looked to be on the verge of refusing, but suddenly froze. A moment later, he bobbed his head as if he’d just remembered something. “Yes. Thank you, Your Excellency. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Not having expected his offer to be accepted, Reivan was shocked. But his smile returned quickly after realizing that the man must have been struggling with something behind the scenes. “Feel free to return to Aizen temporarily, if you wish. Seems a bit foolish to take a break here, when there’s nothing much to do for fun.”

“Is… Is that truly okay?”

“Of course,” Reivan said as he looked at his pitiful knight.

‘Is he fighting with his wives again? Poor thing…’

From what he knew, Xander was a bit estranged from his family in Aizen. Not because he was gone for a long time. His family knew that he wasn’t actually dead and was working for the kingdom.

What had gotten on their nerves was how he built a separate family in Arkhan while away from them.

Polygamy was a rare but accepted practice in Aizen. But that was on the premise that all parties involved were in agreement before it happened. Xander didn’t have the leeway to send word to his first family, though. And as Reivan understood it, the second family wasn’t planned either.

It had just come suddenly—a night of passion, so to speak. And then another night of passion years later. And then another one, years after that.

Honestly, Reivan could relate. But he also couldn’t help but admit that Xander was completely at fault here.

‘Stay strong, Sir Xander!’

The poor knight was dismissed and promptly left, likely heading for the palace's teleportation gate directly. Reivan made sure to send a message to the guards to let him use it just in case.

If Gwen had any opinion on Sir Xander’s family situation, none of it was apparent in her stony expression. “Your Excellency, that activist was the last scheduled appointment that required your presence. I believe you can return to young master Arthur now. But please keep yourself available, I will be sending some documents over for your consideration or approval.”

“Excellent.” Reivan smiled and stood up without a second thought, immediately pushing all thoughts of Sir Xander out of his mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yes, Your Excellency. Until tomorrow, then.”

With a spring in his step, Reivan hastily made his way over to his beloved son’s side.

 

---

 

Reivan’s staff used holostones to communicate more efficiently. And it was even used in lieu of papers for basic documents and approvals, significantly reducing the amount of paperwork that everyone had to battle every day.

Important matters and contracts were still put to parchment, but plenty of things were now handled through the convenient devices.

It also made it possible for Reivan to work while enjoying time with his son. Sure, it wasn’t quality time because he wasn’t entirely focused on the here and now, but it was far better than him being absent for most of the boy's life because he had to revise the national budget for the ninth time or something. And because he was one of the few people who had a dream crystal, he basically had a telepathic version of holostones. Hell, he was doing work while not really looking like he was doing work.

This level of multitasking was nothing much for someone who could control sixteen flying swords adeptly while fighting with his real body.

It was a good thing too, because there was a lot of work lately.

More than twenty million liberated Arkhanians were infused into Samsara because of their repeated dealings with Prince Axion Argonia. And if it wasn’t obvious enough, you didn’t just get that many people added to your population and shrug it off.

Finding shelters for them was one thing, but he also had to examine each and every one to prevent any espers from sneaking into Samsara. Recording their real basic information was also work that fell into his lap as the only adult user of [Supreme Insight].

And of course, there was a whole lot of other stuff that had to be approved by him in order to properly house the new residents. He had to hastily authorize the restoration of yet another city.

Just thinking of how he would be drowning in paperwork if he didn’t normalize the use of holostones chilled his spine.

“Boo!” Reivan playfully peered out from between his hands, making a silly face in the hopes of amusing his son—who had only recently opened his eyes to reveal a vibrant blue. And it was the special kind of blue too, a color that only the Aizenwald royal family had.

Arthur flinched, but seemed very amused by his father’s antics. At least he seemed to be, if that smile was anything to go by.

His son was so adorable that he found it very hard not to talk to him in baby talk. Helen had made it very clear that everyone should only talk to Arthur in a normal speaking tone because that apparently helped infants learn to speak properly.

In hindsight, Reivan realized that the same thing was done to him when he was a child. Though it ended up being wasted effort because he was a reincarnated person on the inside.

Speaking of Helen, she was temporarily away. It wasn’t because she was taking a break from nursing Arthur or anything—because neither of them would willingly leave their son’s side if they didn’t have to. Apparently, Mimi had consulted her about some things, and they both went off to who knew where.

‘Oh, that means Hector should be…’

There was a saying about speaking of devils, but he never knew that just thinking about them also made them appear. Hector barged into the room without even knocking, an energetic warbeast baby riding on his head.

“Hey~!” Hector waved with a big smile. “Mama's gone off somewhere, so Sienna and I came to play. Also, I'm out of good booze, so I'm here to leech off of my good friend!”

“Dude, knock,” Reivan grumbled, ignoring the comment about the booze. “What would you have done if I was getting it on with your sister, huh?”

Hector’s smile immediately fell off. “That’s a good point… But I could sense you were alone with Arthur through the door, so it’s fine.”

“Just do it… Anyway, I'd tell you to come in, but you're already inside.” He beckoned them over before smiling at the cat-eared bundle of sweetness. “Hello, Sienna. How have you been? Good? Bad? Kind of okay? Talk to me.”

Sienna didn’t say anything coherent, but the baby noises she made were a clear attempt at speaking. It was starting to sound a little like English, too, which was good progress.

"Oh yeah?" He said, pretending to have understood her. "Anyway, I'm glad you're here to play with Arthur."

Again, she made a few noises in an attempt to converse with him, but he didn't understand it one bit. It truly did seem like she was trying to have a conversation with him, though, so he played along.

'Really, this girl wasn’t even a year old.'

Warbeasts really did grow up absurdly fast. Maybe that was why Reivan’s surprising maturity growing up was never questioned too heavily. Being a hybrid, people may have just assumed that he would have accelerated growth as well.

Sienna reached out toward Arthur, so with Reivan’s tacit permission, he placed her in the crib too. Despite being such an energetic child that couldn’t sit still, Sienna was noticeably gentle with Arthur, so there was no problem letting them be.

Reivan dropped a few toys to entertain her and potentially stimulate his own son before sitting down on a nearby stool. If anything happened or if any of the babies tried eating something they shouldn’t, he could easily stop them from here.

“You know, you’re a hard man to get a hold of these days,” Hector commented with a grin. “You seem quite… busy.”

Reivan scoffed, knowing that rumors must have spread by now. Maids and servants knew that some secrets should never be revealed, but gossip about his nightly activities didn’t seem to receive such consideration.

“If you mean the concubines, then yes. Things are going pretty well.”

Hector snickered as he explained. “Mimi likes to do our laundry herself, and she heard it from the maid on duty.”

“Did she now,” he drawled with a roll of his eyes. One of these days, he was going to teach that treacherous brat a lesson.

“Yep. Said that concubines are apparently getting their sheets changed every night these days. A different one every night. Each one with a spot of blood on it.”

Reivan clicked his tongue. “Yes, it’s me. I’m the culprit. Are you happy now?”

Hector laughed loudly at his expense, temporarily pulling both babies’ attention toward him. “What finally got your ass moving?”

“Well…” Reivan licked his lower lip while thinking about it. “The warbeasts were… aggressive, to say the least. And that seems to have panicked my human concubines.”

A day after returning to Samsara, his warbeast concubines crossed over from Aizen.

Every single one of them. All one hundred and fifty.

He would not recount the events to Hector directly, but the warbeasts downright threw themselves at him when they got here. It was a far cry from how he wanted to take it easy with the human ones.

Warbeasts simply looked at sex very differently from humans. To them, it was just an act necessary for procreation. Really, it was more apt to call it mating rather than sex.

They didn’t feel the need to have an emotional bond with their partner. Rather, it was weird to them. To them, they just found someone suitable, and then boom, they got it on.

Vianna was very different from them, if the events of his childhood were to be referenced. She had been considerably lustful, though that lust was only ever pointed to his father. Even as an Ascendant, who could no longer bear children, she constantly sought Rodin out simply for pleasure. This difference could be attributed to her being raised in Aizen.

The warbeasts he was welcoming as his concubines arrived here at a young age too, but their core values were still retained.

‘And that’s how I possibly impregnated more than a hundred people in a single day…’

If he didn’t have a way to continuously restore his vigor, then he would have probably died or something. Luckily, he did.

They weren't completely merciless, though. In fact, he later found out that the ladies initially intended to do come onto him in pre-arranged groups. But when they realized that he just never got tired, they just collectively decided to jump him all at the same time.

Of course, it had yet to be confirmed if all of them really got pregnant from just the one time he had with each of them. So there might be a need to do it again. But anyway, they did not care a single whit about the feelings involved.

Warbeasts were certainly… different. In mind and body.

The culture shock he constantly felt as he discovered more things about them was immense. He wondered if there would ever be a day when he just wouldn’t be shocked anymore.

In any case, a bunch of warbeast women, all pretty and exotic, just came in from out of nowhere and immediately got Reivan’s seed. That alarmed the few dozen human concubines already in the palace, who were leisurely enjoying the peaceful but slow phase of getting to know him better. Even the ones who hadn't arrived here yet somehow received word and rushed over.

“I heard they came at you in the hot springs?” Hector asked quizzically, with a raised brow and shit-eating smirk.

Reivan threw his hands in the air, exasperated. If his son wasn’t right there, he would have been swearing like a sailor. “What secret isn’t known by everyone in this palace…!?”

It’s bad enough that his massive hundred-person orgy pretty much became the talk of the city, now the people in the palace even knew about things like this? Were rulers just cursed not to have any privacy at all?

“You crack me up, Van.” Hector chuckled. “It feels like I should envy you as a man, but somehow, I don’t. One's the magic number for me, brother.”

“Shut up…” Reivan turned his gaze away. “It’s so bad that I can’t even go outside without being made a spectacle of. Yesterday, I took a stroll down one of the streets for an inspection, and everybody kept looking at my crotch.”

“Well, you did that with a hundred and fifty babes in a single day. It’s kind of hard not to talk about. Haha. Get it? Hard…? You know, because—”

“You don’t have to explain the joke, Hector. And you know I don’t approve of puns. They're never funny.”

“I know. That's why I did it.”

‘This fucking asshole…’

Reivan resolved to find someone in Aizen willing to sell a bottle of millennial vintage to him, only to drink it all in front of Hector. And he would chug it down like cheap booze, too. More than the thought of missing out on such a fine drink, seeing it guzzled down without properly being enjoyed would devastate Hector.

Sir Valter should have a few. Though he’d respectfully declined Reivan’s previous attempts at buying them.

That had been when Reivan was still too young to drink, though, and he’d only intended to use the vintages as gifts instead of for personal consumption. If he said that he was planning to drink it himself, then Valter would surely agree by virtue of their closeness.

‘He said he had a whole cellar of the stuff. Parting with a few bottles shouldn’t be a big deal.’

The price would have to be monumental, but whatever. His pettiness would be legendary.