The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: A Walking Aphrodisiac

"S-so... am I worthy?" he asked, his voice trembling with a perfectly crafted submissiveness.

"Hmm?" she questioned, a brow arching in amusement.

"I... I heard you execute the men who are found wanting," he said, keeping the act of a terrified slave alive, his gaze flickering downward as if he couldn’t bear the weight of her presence.

A low, melodic chuckle vibrated in her chest, a sound that was more of a purr than a laugh. "Hahaha... well, that is true."

She tightened her grip on his jaw, pulling him upward until he was nearly pressed against her knees.

"Though you are handsome enough to be kept alive for a while to entertain me, you are not truly ’worthy.’ In the end, you are just another fragile man. You haven’t awakened, have you?"

Azriel didn’t flinch.

Instead, he did something that caused the chat to stall in a collective gasp.

He locked his gaze onto hers with a sudden, searing confidence, a look no slave should ever dare to direct at a Duchess.

"Who told you I am not awakened?"

Rosalind’s smile vanished.

Her golden eyes turned cold, the molten light in them hardening into ice. "I have read your documents, little beast. It is clearly stated you failed your awakening. You are already nineteen, everyone knows it is almost impossible to awaken after the age of eighteen."

Her hand shifted from his jaw to his throat, her fingers constricting with terrifying strength as she hauled him further up.

Their faces were mere inches apart now, her breath smelling of spiced wine.

The murderous intent radiating from her was a physical weight, pressing down on the throne room.

"Do not play games with me," she hissed, her voice a lethal whisper that promised agony.

Her pupils thinned into needle-fine slits as she stared into his violet eyes.

"I’ll kill you where you kneel!"

[ LIVE CHAT ]

[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): AZRIEL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! SHE’S GOING TO CRUSH HIS WINDPIPE!

[Crimson_Fury] (White): Finally! The ’Patriarch’ gets what’s coming to him. No more talking your way out of this one, boy.

[Battle_Maiden_Vera] (White): Look at her grip... she’s going to kill him. He’s dead.

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): Hehehe... the tension is delicious. Watch closely, girls. He isn’t done yet.

[I_Love_Leaf] (Golden): He’s still smirking. Even with a Duchess’s hand on his throat... he’s actually smirking.

Azriel felt the air leaving his lungs, but his heart didn’t stutter.

He stared directly into the golden abyss of her eyes, his lips pulling into a slow, defiant grin that mocked her threat.

’What a fucking chance!’, he thought.

’What a perfect fucking opportunity!’

In that split second, Azriel shattered the mental shackles on his Charisma.

The suppression vanished like a mist under a rising sun.

In an instant, he didn’t just look handsome, he looked like a god who had deigned to walk among mortals.

Every line of his face became a masterwork of divine symmetry, his skin took on a faint, ethereal glow, and his aura surged outward, thick and intoxicating.

It was an overwhelming, magnetic pull that stripped away logic and replaced it with a raw, primal hunger.

Rosalind froze.

The hand at his throat loosened, her fingers trembling as she stared at the man who had just transformed before her eyes.

He was no longer just a slave, he was a visual intoxicant.

His violet eyes didn’t just shine, they swirled with the depth of a thousand nebulas, drawing her soul into their cosmic depths.

Her gaze drifted from his sharp jawline to his twitching black ears, and finally settled on his red, parted lips.

Her golden, slitted pupils contracted until they were nothing but needle-points of pure obsession.

The cold, murderous Duchess was gone, replaced by a woman drowning in a sea of sudden, violent attraction.

"Cute..." she whispered, her voice breathy and stripped of all command.

She couldn’t help herself.

Driven by an instinct more powerful than her noble pride, she tightened her grip on his neck, not to choke him, but to claim him.

She lunged forward, bridging the final inch between them, and crushed her lips against his in a desperate, searing kiss.

Azriel’s eyes widened in genuine shock.

He had expected her to be stunned, perhaps impressed enough to let him go, but he had underestimated the terrifying lethality of 1000 Points of Charisma on a mortal soul.

He had seen the goddesses react, but they were divine beings who could handle the weight of such beauty.

Seeing it break a Duchess of Tartarus in real-time made him realize, he wasn’t just handsome.

He was a walking weapon.

If Azriel was stunned, the AUREALIS Network was in a state of absolute, divine meltdown.

The screen blurred with a frantic stream of colored text as the goddesses and entities of the higher planes bore witness to the impossible.

[ LIVE CHAT ]

[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): SHE KISSED HIM! A Duchess actually claimed a slave! Oh my Goddess, my heart is stopping!

[Crimson_Fury] (White): ...I... I take it back. I never expected him to bait her with suppressed charm like that. He’s a tactical monster.

[God_Slayer_Klara] (Red): Look at his face... even through a soul-stream, I’m feeling lightheaded. He’s a living aphrodisiac.

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): AHAHAHAHA! Did you see that? The "Cold Duchess" lasted exactly one second against his true face! That’s my boy!

[Angelic_Sword_Valerius] (Red): This is scandalous! This is... this is... actually quite steamy. Look at the way she’s holding him. She’s completely lost her composure.

[I_Love_Leaf] (Golden): The viewer count is spiraling! Azriel, don’t you dare cut the feed now!

Azriel was in no mood to read the chat.

His focus was entirely consumed by the soft, demanding lips pressing against his own.

After a breathless moment, Rosalind pulled back, her chest heaving as she hovered just inches from him.

He remained on his knees, his violet eyes locking onto hers with a smoldering intensity.

She pulled away fully, wiping her lips with an elegant, lingering motion, her golden eyes clouded with a hunger she could no longer hide.

"How the hell..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

"How are you this beautiful?"