Milf harem of Serpent King

The meal had been running for perhaps an hour when the group approached their table.

Jake saw them before they arrived, his observant attention catching the movement through the hall’s general flow.

Six people moving with the coordinated purpose of a unit rather than a social cluster, weaving between tables with direction rather than wandering. He clocked their attire before he clocked their faces.

And stopped chewing.

The clothing was wrong for this world.

Not dramatically wrong—they’d adapted enough to pass casual inspection, wearing functional gear that fit the feast’s mixed-style environment. But the cuts, the materials, the specific way certain items were combined—those details belonged to sensibilities formed somewhere else entirely. A distinctly contemporary jacket collar. Boot construction that owed more to industrial manufacturing than a cobbler’s craft. The samurai at the group’s flank wore his attire with the unselfconscious ease of someone who’d dressed this way before arriving in this world, not someone who’d adopted it here.

Jake recognized the aesthetic the way you recognize your native language spoken in a foreign country. Bone-deep and unmistakable.

Elise noticed his stillness.

"What?"

"Our table’s about to have company," Jake said.

"From familiar places."

The man at the group’s front stopped beside their chairs with a professionally warm smile, the kind of smile that led meetings. He was perhaps forty, broad-shouldered, with the particular bearing of someone accustomed to commanding rooms.

"Jake Raikarndel," he said.

"Mind if we join you briefly?"

Jake gestured at the empty seats without enthusiasm.

"Maxidred Wolhar," the man said, settling in with his group arranging themselves around him in the practiced way of people who’d done this together before.

"Covenant of Harmis. I believe you might find our group—" he paused with the timing of someone who used pauses deliberately, "—particularly familiar."

"The samurai attire gave it away," Jake said.

Maxidred’s smile widened with genuine pleasure.

He looked at Jake with the assessment of someone who’d already done his homework and was now confirming it against reality.

"You’re from the other world. So are we. All of us—different points of origin, different times, but the same fundamental displacement."

He spread his hands. "Different world, different lives, and the same confusion when we first arrived."

Jake nodded, waiting.

"Our covenant is built around that shared experience," Maxidred continued.

"Harmis understood something that most gods don’t—people from our world operate differently. We have knowledge, context, and reference points that natives here don’t possess. We think differently, adapt faster in some ways, and bring entire frameworks of understanding that give us advantages."

He leaned forward slightly. "We’re more effective when we work together rather than scattered across competing covenants that don’t understand our origins."

"Makes sense," Jake said.

"I’d like you to join us."

Jake picked up his wine glass.

"We’re one of the strongest covenants in the current alignment," Maxidred said, pressing the advantage of Jake’s silence.

"Twelve agents, collectively covering abilities that complement each other. Harmis is a war god—direct, no politics; his covenant operates with clear objectives and shared resources."

He glanced at Asurani’s empty chair—the goddess was in the divine section.

"With respect, your current situation is—"

"Adequate," Jake said.

"You’re at the bottom table representing the goddess everyone forgot existed," Maxidred said, with the blunt honesty of someone who thought directness built trust.

"Harmis’s covenant has established territory, political connections, and resources that Asurani’s covenant doesn’t have and won’t build quickly enough to matter."

"He’s right about the territory," Elise said quietly, not quite under her breath.

Jake looked at his wine.

"Think about what you’d gain," Maxidred said.

"Twelve allies who understand where you come from. Shared intelligence about this world’s workings that we’ve collectively assembled over combined decades of operation. Protection, resources, established reputation."

He paused for a second.

"And frankly—people who get the references. Do you know how long it’s been since I could make a joke and have someone laugh because they actually understood it?"

Jake did know. Eighteen years, in his case.

He set down the wine glass.

"No," he said.

Maxidred absorbed this without visible reaction.

"I understand it’s a significant decision. Take time to—"

"I didn’t say I need time," Jake said.

"I said no."

A beat of silence at the table.

"Our world of origin is shared context," Jake continued, "not shared interests or shared values. Twelve people from the same place can have completely different ideas about what they’re trying to accomplish and why. I don’t know your covenant’s actual objectives. I don’t know what Harmis’s agenda is or what he wants those objectives to serve. I don’t know any of you."

He looked at Maxidred directly. "Coming from the same world doesn’t make us allies. It just makes us people who know what television is."

Maxidred studied him for a moment. "That’s more considered than most people our age manage when they’re deciding which side to be on."

"I’m not picking a side," Jake said.

"I’m staying where I am."

"You’ll regret limiting yourself this early," Maxidred said, and it was offered as observation rather than threat.

A man from Maxidred’s group who had been silent until now leaned forward. He was younger than the others, with the restless energy of someone whose patience operated on a shorter leash.

"Let me be clear," he said, and his tone had dropped the diplomatic register entirely.

"You’re turning down twelve experienced agents and an established war god to stay with a forgotten goddess and one other covenant sister."

"You’re either incredibly stupid or arrogant enough to think there’s a difference."

He looked at Jake with the particular contempt of someone who had assessed the gap between their respective positions and found it satisfying.

"Your goddess is a joke in this hall," he continued.

"Everyone here knows it. You showed up tonight and Naktuna embarrassed you in front of the assembled covenants within the first hour. Vikram nearly put you on the floor just by standing near you. And you’re going to sit here and tell Maxidred you’re not interested?"

He shook his head. "You’ll regret those words. Both of you."

The table held the silence for a moment.

"Draven," Maxidred said, his voice carrying the flat weight of someone ending something. "Enough."

Draven settled back, satisfied with having made his point.

Maxidred looked at Jake with an expression that was genuinely apologetic.

"He’s not wrong about the power dynamics," he said.