Supreme Bloodline Evolution System

Chapter 193: Inside the Citadel

The tall crystal doors slammed shut behind the trio, and for a moment, the sound echoed through the citadel like the whole place had sealed itself away from the rest of the world.

Max could not help himself. His hands moved lower around their waists, fingers exploring the soft curves of the two beauties pressed against him, sinking into the warmth of their bodies as if he had been starving for this kind of touch without even realizing it. After days of hard work crafting the city, the feeling of Rosalia and Agnia in his arms was almost enough to make his mind go blank.

It was heavenly.

Heat slowly began to rise in his pants, and Max did not even try to hide it. After such a long time spent working without rest, carrying the weight of the city, the kingdom, the people, and everything that still waited beyond the walls, he needed some way to let the stress out. And honestly, what better way was there than sex?

Both women understood as well that this citadel tour would not remain innocent for long.

Still, none of them rushed.

They walked slowly through the first massive hall. It was wide enough to house a small army, its floor smooth and dark beneath their steps, while the walls rose high above them in clean black crystal that carried faint lines of mana through its surface.

There were no decorations yet, no banners, no statues, no servants or guards standing in formation, but the space already carried enough weight to make anyone understand that this was the entrance to the heart of a kingdom.

"This place is huge," Rosalia said softly, her eyes moving from one side of the hall to the other.

"It has to be," Max replied. "If leaders, soldiers, messengers, and guests all come through here later, I do not want them squeezed together like beggars waiting outside a tavern."

Agnia glanced up at him. "You thought about guests? Or women who would line up on their knees for you?" she teased, her breasts pressing against his arm.

Max cleared his throat. "That would only be a bonus. I did not build the hall for that."

Agnia’s smile widened. "But if it happens?"

Max looked ahead, trying not to let his grin show. "Then I suppose the hall should be spacious enough."

They moved deeper, passing through the hall until it opened into another chamber, quieter and heavier than the one before it. At the far end, raised slightly above the floor, stood a modest throne made from the same black crystal as the citadel. It was not covered in gold. It was not oversized to the point of looking stupid. It did not try to scream power through meaningless decorations.

It simply stood there. Strong. Dark. Elevated above a short set of stairs. Max looked at it for a while without saying anything. He did not need some grand throne to prove that he was the ruler.

A chair would not make him a king, just like a crown would not make a weak man powerful.

Still, he understood that symbols mattered. People needed something to look at. Enemies needed something to fear. Allies needed a place where they could kneel, speak, argue, beg, or swear loyalty while remembering exactly who they were standing before.

That was why he had placed it on a platform.

"It is very simple. I expected something... more grand," Agnia said.

She could still remember the days when she had been queen of her own people, when the throne had not been only a seat, but a symbol. Its height, its shape, its decorations, all of it mattered because people judged power long before they understood it.

Max glanced at the modest throne, then smiled faintly.

"I don’t need a grand seat. Those who kneel before me will only see my boots anyway, and those who dare to raise their heads without permission will lose them a moment later."

Both women fell silent.

They had not expected such arrogance from him, at least not spoken so calmly, but instead of disgust, a strange sense of safety settled over them. This was the kind of man standing beside them. Their man. A king who did not need gold, jewels, or a towering throne to remind others what would happen if they forgot their place.

Before either of them could say anything, Max began walking again, pulling both women with him toward the side passage connected to the throne hall.

They continued through the corridor, passing rooms meant for records, storage, private discussions, and future officials.

They walked up a wide set of stairs that curved along the inner wall, and the higher they went, the quieter the citadel became. The lower levels felt like a fortress. These levels felt more private, built for those who would stand closer to the center of power. The air was warmer here, softer, carrying less of the cold heaviness from the lower halls.

They reached another open section, a balcony-like corridor that looked down into one of the inner courtyards. From here, they could see the pond below, the young trees, the dark paths, and the empty spaces where flowers or benches might one day be placed.

For now, everything still looked new, almost too clean, but Max could already imagine people walking there in the future, servants, guards, messengers, perhaps children from important families chasing each other when nobody was watching.

They stopped there for a moment.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Rosalia asked softly.

She could see the look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that showed just how much he already loved this place, even though she did not point it out. Max was staring at the walls, the halls, the open spaces, and the future hidden inside all of it as if he could already see the years that had not yet arrived.

"The future," Max said. "This city. I am going to call it Blackspire."

Rosalia and Agnia both looked at him, but neither interrupted.

"Right now, there are only dragons here, but one day, I will bring elves here too. Then dwarves, orcs, humans, and whoever else can live under my rule without trying to tear each other apart. I want this to become a place where all races can live under one sky, without fighting every day just to prove they deserve a place in the world."

He paused, and his grip around their waists tightened slightly.

"I want this to be a place where the four of you will be protected."

Both women trembled softly in his arms.

They understood what he meant. He was not only talking about Rosalia and Agnia. He was talking about the lives growing inside them too, the children who had not yet opened their eyes but had already become part of the reason Max looked at this city like something he would burn the world to protect.

Rosalia’s fingers tightened against his robes.

"There is somebody else too, am I right?"

Her voice was soft, but Max could feel the weight behind it. He had promised her before that he would not claim another woman without speaking to her first. Yet once again, that promise had been broken before she even knew it had happened.

And somehow, she found herself accepting it.

Not because it did not hurt at all, but because the man holding her was no longer only Max. He was a king now, and she was his queen. One day, this citadel might be filled with other queens, other women, other children, and if she exhausted herself worrying about every woman who came next, she would only poison herself before anyone else had the chance to hurt her.

As long as he still loved her the same, she could bear it.

"Clotilde," Max said, his voice low but firm.

"The diplomat?" Rosalia asked.

Then, instead of anger, a laugh slipped from her lips, light enough to make it seem as if she had accepted it completely, though her fingers still pulled a little tighter against his robe.

Max glanced at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Rosalia said, though the smile on her face made it clear that it was not nothing. "I just did not know you were interested in other humans. I thought you liked something a little more..."

She slipped from his arm and turned slowly in front of him, her body shifting into her dragon-hybrid form as scales, horns, and that dangerous beauty of hers appeared beneath the light.

"Exotic," she finished, her hips moving with deliberate smugness as her purple eyes looked back at him.

Max stared at her for a moment.

Agnia, however, had gone quiet.

"I knew I smelled human that day..." she muttered.

She remembered it now. That night when Max had come to her with his desire overflowing, carrying the faint trace of another woman on him.

Now it made sense.

Her eyes shifted toward Rosalia, who was still standing in her dragon-hybrid form with that smug expression on her face, and Agnia’s own pride refused to let her fall behind.

A heartbeat later, blue fire stirred around her body as she transformed as well, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as her own dragon-hybrid beauty appeared beside him.

Max looked between the two of them and felt the tension in the air change again.

The tour had become a lot more dangerous than he expected.