Milf harem of Serpent King

They found a flat ground fifty meters from the road, back against the hill’s shoulder where the treeline gave some cover and the evening wind came from the right direction, and the iron-suited men set up camp with the efficient speed.

A fire went up.

Eskar sat on the outer edge of things and did not speak and made himself useful in small, unobtrusive ways that communicated very clearly that he understood his position and was not going to push against it.

He collected wood when it was needed.

The bodies had been attended to.

That was the part that sat heavy and unspoken in the camp’s atmosphere — Brenn and Others, the iron-suited men who had fallen in the fight, the eastern fighters who weren’t going to be reporting back to Bearfang.

Maudlina’s men had handled it with a reverence that said something about the kind of leader she was, taking the time even in the aftermath to do it properly, and the iron-suited men had watched their own people be attended to with the quiet, contained grief of soldiers who had made their peace with the arithmetic of dangerous work and still felt every line of it when the arithmetic came due.

Jake sat by the fire.

He sat the way he sat when the system was doing something in the background that required his body to be still — not relaxed, not tense, just present, his hands loose on his knees, his eyes on the fire, the new configuration of the Blood-Shadow System organizing itself in the space behind his thoughts with the thorough, unhurried patience of something that had been waiting years for the right conditions and was not going to rush now that they’d arrived.

Ankerita sat across the fire from him.

Maudlina settled beside her sister.

For a while, none of them said anything, and the fire said what fires said, which was warm and orange and nothing in particular, and the valley night came down around them with the gradual, indifferent beauty that nights had when the day they were ending had been catastrophic.

*

"The gods," Maudlina said into the fire’s quiet.

She said it the way you said the first word of a sentence you’d been composing for a while — not tentatively, but with the specific weight of a beginning that knew where it was going.

Jake looked at her across the fire.

She was watching him with those direct, curious eyes.

"Do you know about them?" she asked.

"The gods of this world and their agents?"

Jake thought about Asurani. About pale gold light humming against his skin like a second heartbeat. About a voice that came from everywhere at once, warm and amused and carrying that specific note of divine mischief.

He shook his head slowly.

He knew about Asurani. He didn’t know, he was realizing, if that knowledge connected to anything larger, to a structure or a system of divine politics that the goddess had declined to explain to him at that time, possibly because she’d thought he’d figure it out or possibly because she was the kind of divine being who found information rationed at the right moment more interesting than information given all at once.

He was going to have words with her about that at some point, if she ever decided to be reachable again.

"No," he said.

Maudlina settled slightly into herself, the posture of someone who had explained this before and knew the shape of the explanation, and she began.

"This world is vast," she said, and the word vast arrived with real weight behind it, not the casual exaggeration of description but the genuine measurement of someone who had traveled enough of the world to have a felt sense of its scale.

"Larger than most people in any one part of it can fully imagine, because most people live in one part of it and measure everything by that part’s scale. There are regions and there are realms and there are places between the realms that don’t have names because the people who found them didn’t survive long enough to name them."

She paused and looked at the fire for a moment.

"And above all of it, and through all of it, the gods exist," she continued.

"Active and present, involved in ways that most ordinary people never see directly but feel constantly in the structure of how things work and how they don’t. They make the rules of this world the way builders make a building — not arbitrarily, but with intention, with a specific desired outcome in mind."

She looked at Jake.

"And they break those rules when the outcome requires it. They are not consistent in the way that laws are consistent. They are consistent only in the pursuit of whatever it is that each of them wants, and what each of them wants is a very long and complicated subject."

"They see humans as playthings, as objects existing to fulfill their desires and satisfy their curiosity."

"Their agents," Jake said, because he was listening and following, and that was the word that mattered, the word that connected to something he already knew.

Maudlina nodded.

"Agents," she agreed.

"People from other worlds — worlds that are not this one, worlds with different rules and different histories — who are taken by the gods and placed here. Reincarnated, in most cases, born into this world with the god’s blessing already in them, given something that most people in this world don’t have — an ability, a tool that the god designed specifically for them."

She looked at him steadily. "Given a reason to fight the god’s war, whether they know that is what they are doing or not."

The fire crackled and said nothing useful.

Jake looked at it and thought about the System, which Asurani had given him in a space between spaces, and about what it meant that the thing he had always thought of as his gift, his personal divine advantage, was actually a weapon in someone else’s long war.

He thought about this and filed it in the place where he put things that were important and needed to be returned to carefully rather than immediately.

"She is one," Maudlina said, and she was looking at Ankerita as she said it.

Jake’s gaze moved to Ankerita across the fire.

Ankerita met it with the particular expression of someone who had been the subject of this specific sentence before and had their relationship with it settled. She didn’t confirm or deny, simply sat with it, and the sitting with it was its own kind of confirmation.

Jake was already aware of it, so he didn’t really ask her but just looked at her.

Jake looked back at Maudlina.

"Your father was one of them," she said.

"An agent. One of the strong ones — the gods don’t produce many of his kind, the kind that becomes something truly formidable, something that stops fighting the god’s war and starts fighting its own and wins."

"He was the Beast Monarch, the sovereign who ruled this world decades back."

She paused, and something moved through her expression that was more complicated than the informational tone she’d been maintaining.

"He was — by the time he became what he became — one of the most powerful beings operating in the three realms. What people called omnipotent, though that word is always an exaggeration and always contains a truth."

Jake absorbed this.

His father.

A reincarnated agent of a god, powerful enough that people had used the word omnipotent in his vicinity and meant something real by it.

A person Jake had no memory of, no image of, nothing except the name that the system had given him — Raikarndel — and the jade star mark on his shoulder, and fifteen years of Chelsea deflecting every question about the time before with a gentleness that he now understood differently than he ever had before.

"My mother," he said.

"A great blood magus," Maudlina said.

"Of this world, not brought from another — born here, trained here, talented in the way that people were talented when they had been studying the right things for the right amount of time under the right conditions.

She was remarkable by any standard."

Another pause, this one shorter.

"They found each other, your parents, in the way that remarkable people sometimes found each other — with difficulty and consequence, and too briefly."

Jake looked at the fire.

Then he asked, "The people who came looking for me, who were they?"

"They were commissioned," Maudlina said.

"By someone who knew what you were before you knew yourself, who knew that the bloodline would activate eventually and wanted to prevent it — or to harvest what was in the blood before the awakening made that impossible."

She looked at the ruined cauldron, visible at the edge of the firelight, pressed into its cracked earth. It was completely destroyed, no longer funtionable.

"The Tianlan was built for exactly that purpose. It is old and it is specific and whoever commissioned Bearfang had access to something that most people in the three realms have never seen outside of a historical record."

"The tattoo," Jake said.

"The jade star mark," Maudlina confirmed.

"It is your identity in the world that matters — in the world of bloodlines and clans and the politics of powerful families, which is a world that operates entirely in parallel to the mercenary guild and the district roads and the ordinary business of ordinary life."

She looked at him with the expression of someone delivering information they understand is going to require significant processing.

Jake looked down at his left shoulder, where the jade star sat under the ruins of his shirt.

He had looked at that mark ten thousand times in eighteen years and called it familiar and called it his, had been told it was a lucky charm by a woman he trusted completely and had believed her because believing her had been easy and comfortable and had not required him to ask questions that might make her sad.

He looked at it now and it was still familiar and still his and was also, apparently, the reason for people to kill him.

He looked up at Maudlina.

"They didn’t expect to find me quickly," he said, because that was the part that had been sitting in the back of his mind since she’d started explaining, the part with the jagged edge on it.

"No," she said, and something in her voice acknowledged the jagged edge.

"We didn’t. The reason Ankerita had come was for this. She was looking for you, but we were a little late."

Jake sighed and said, "If it hadn’t been for Eskar, they wouldn’t have found me. He told them about my tattoo."

Suddenly, they understood his earlier reaction and his words, which he said to Eskar.

They glanced at Eskar, who trembled at their gaze, and thought that it was better to kill him.

But Jake said that he would take care of him.

The fire burned intensely as they settled their thoughts.

The valley night was full and dark around the camp now, the stars out in the quantities that cities never showed you, the kind of sky that existed only when you were far enough from the lights of human settlement that the darkness got to be properly itself.

Jake sat with everything Maudlina had told him and let it sit, because he was tired in the way that went deeper than muscles and bones and the processing of a divine system reboot, tired in the part of him that had been a person for two lives and had just been handed a third layer of identity on top of the first two and needed a moment with that.

His father, an omnipotent agent of a god, is dead or gone or both.

His mother, the great blood magus of this world, is dead or gone or both.

"Your father went home," Maudlina continued after a moment of silence.

"After the great demon war ended. After he defeated the Demon God XII and the war was finished and the realms had their breathing space again, he went back to the world he had come from originally. The world before this one."

Jake looked at her with a surprise in his eyes.

At the fact that his father had defeated a Demon God and more surprised to know he returned to his world.

The twelfth one, specifically, which implied eleven previous ones and a world that had been doing this long enough to number them, which was a sobering thing to contemplate at a campfire in a valley after the day Jake had just had.

"My mother went with him," he said.

Not a question, because Maudlina’s phrasing had already contained the answer, but he said it anyway because saying it out loud was part of the organizing process.

"She did," Maudlina confirmed.

"She chose to go with him. The passage between worlds was — it was not a simple thing, and it was not a reversible thing, and they knew that when they made the choice."

She paused, and her eyes were on the fire rather than on Jake, which was a consideration he noticed and quietly appreciated.

"They left you here because you belong to this world in a way that they understood clearly. Your father was from somewhere else, brought here. Your mother was from here, going somewhere else. You were born at the intersection of those two things, and that intersection belongs to this world, and they knew it."

Jake absorbed this.

He thought about the choice they’d made — to leave, to go, to take themselves and their story somewhere he couldn’t follow — and he found, to his own mild surprise, that what he felt about that choice was not the simple, hot anger of abandonment but something more layered, something that required the kind of patience he usually reserved for things he was still in the process of understanding.

They had left him behind.

That was the simple version.

Jake was still sitting with the thoughts of his parents.

All of a sudden, Maudlina stood up, as he sensed something.