I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

“That’s it, my sweet boy,” she whispered. “Let it all go for us. Show your mother and sister how much you’re ours.”

Aryl’s eyes flicked up, locked on Vigg’s flushed face. “Brother… cum for me,” she murmured, her lips tightening as she sucked harder.

Her fingers dug into his thigh, anchoring herself as she felt him throb against her tongue.

Vigg’s hands clawed at the sheets, his body trembling violently as the pressure built to a breaking point.

“Mother… Aryl… I can’t—your mouths, your hands,” he gasped, his voice fracturing, raw with surrender. “It’s too much… you’re burning me alive!”

His hips bucked wildly and with a final, helpless thrust into Aryl’s mouth, he fell over the edge. A hot, shuddering release spilled over her lips and onto Shayla’s fingers, marking them both with his arousal.

Shayla’s smile was triumphant, her hand slowing but never stopping, milking every last shudder from him.

“That’s my boy,” she purred, her voice thick with possessive pride as she leaned down, licking a drop from her fingers, her eyes locked on Vigg’s dazed expression

She guided Aryl’s head up, their lips meeting over Vigg’s spent form.

The Marquis’s eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “Perfect,” he said, his tone laced with dark satisfaction. “Our blood is bound now, sealed in this act.”

His gaze lingered on Vigg’s trembling form, then shifted to Shayla and Aryl.

The Marquis rose from his chair and stepped closer to the bed, his voice cutting through the wet sounds of Shayla and Aryl’s kiss.

His eyes gleamed with a predatory intensity, shifting from the two women to Vigg’s trembling form.

“Remember,” he said, his tone cold and commanding, “this is the show you must present in front of the Archduke of Ares.”

**

The hours slipped by unnoticed as Julian slept, wrapped in the soft warmth of his bed. The chamber was silent, bathed in a faint golden hue from the late morning sun peeking through the curtains.

A sudden knock echoed from the door.

“Mmh…” Julian groaned, his voice muffled against the pillow. “Eliz… let me sleep some more.”

But her voice, firm as ever, came from the other side. “No, my lord. You must wake up. You have a scheduled visit with the Marquis of Ravenswood. You cannot afford to be late.”

Julian let out a deeper groan, dragging the blanket over his head like a child. “Ugh… right… I forgot about that,” he muttered.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, his body protesting every movement. His hair was a mess, and his shirt half-clung to him from the heat of sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Damn politics,” he mumbled. “Why couldn’t he be the one coming here?”

He stood, finally, and stretched before shuffling toward the bathroom to begin preparing.

He freshened up quickly, splashing cold water on his face to chase away the remnants of sleep. After a bath, he dressed in a crisp, silky white shirt that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, paired with well-fitted black pants.

Each badge and crest were carefully placed on his chest and shoulders, gleaming under the light.

Julian stepped in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar slightly, then paused to take in his reflection. He tilted his head left, then right, smirking at himself.

“I really am handsome,” he murmured, admiring the sharpness of his jawline and the confident glint in his eyes.

He leaned a bit closer to the mirror, touching his chin thoughtfully. “Honestly… I should start taxing people for glancing at this face.”

Chuckling to himself, he leaned back and brushed his hair one last time. “But damn… I really do have power now.”

The realization made his smile widen.

With that, Julian stepped out of his room, the door clicking shut behind him. His gaze briefly fell on Eliz, who stood dutifully outside. Their eyes met for only a second, but it was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

He walked past her without a word, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.

Meanwhile, Eliz stood frozen for a moment, her cheeks tinted with the faintest blush. She swallowed, watching him walking away confidently.

How can someone look that flawless just after waking up? she thought, still stunned. The well-tailored attire, the shine of the badges on his chest, and that arrogant smirk—Julian looked like a man born to rule.

“Stop staring, Eliz. You’re making me feel embarrassed,” Julian said with a teasing smile, not even turning around.

Eliz jolted, startled out of her thoughts. “I-I wasn’t!” she stammered, though the blush on her face deepened.

Julian chuckled softly, amused by her flustered state.

Meanwhile, Eliz quickly walked behind him, keeping her gaze low and her thoughts racing.

They stepped out of the castle gates, the cold morning breeze rushing to greet them. Julian inhaled deeply, letting the cold air fill his lungs as he glanced toward the carriages lined up nearby.

“You ride in the carriage and follow behind,” he said. “I’ll go ahead.”

Eliz blinked, confused. “What do you mean go ahead—?”

But before she could finish her sentence, a quiet crackle of lightning enveloped Julian’s figure. A flash of white light burst out, forcing her to shield her eyes. And then—he was gone.

Left in silence, Eliz lowered her hand slowly, letting out a resigned sigh. “He’s gone…”

She glanced at the carriage with a slight pout. “Could’ve taken me along,” she muttered, climbing inside.

Meanwhile, Julian appeared at the border of the Easvil Kingdom, just outside a small yet thriving estate. His gaze immediately fixed onto the castle ahead—a smaller structure compared to the main Easvil fortress, but elegant and proud in its own right.

“Let’s see how Rose is doing,” he murmured to himself.

Without hesitation, Julian began walking forward, making no attempt to change his extravagant attire or hide his identity.

Passersby within the county stopped what they were doing. Farmers, knights, merchants—even soldiers near the gates turned their heads. Whispers rippled through the air.

“Is that…?”

“The Archduke?”

“Why is he here?”