I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 792: Final warning as a friend

“I know well enough what I have done. And I am suffering for it.”

He paused for a moment as another wave of black aura slammed against his barrier, making him skid backwards. Sweat beaded across his forehead and he closed his eyes as he channeled every bit of mana he could. Slowly, his barrier was reinforced again and they back to the stalemate.

“But I won’t let anything like that happen again, Voss,”

The Duke managed to continue, his voice growing stronger despite the strain.

“I don’t know whether the bandits are truly the survivors from the Valthor kingdom or not, but I will do everything in my power to help protect them.”

The captain’s eyes widened at that. He could not hide the confusion and disbelief that had clouded his features at that moment.

“Are you planning to stand against him, Astran? Do you not know who he is? How mighty he is? He will kill your entire family.”

The Duke scoffed at the captain’s rambling… though the sound came out ragged and strained as another surge of black aura crashed into his barrier. His golden light dimmed dangerously and was nearly on verge of collapse before he forced more power into it. Even he himself was not aware where this power was coming from.

“I know…” the Duke replied. “I know how strong he is. Just thinking about it makes my nerves scream in danger. I want nothing more than to run far away from that monster…”

His knees buckled slightly under the pressure, but he refused to fall. There was a fierce, unyielding glint in his eyes even as his entire existence screamed in protest.

But the Duke did not yield.

His voice, though strained and cracking under the immense pressure, carried a resolve forged from decades of guilt and atonement.

“But I cannot,” he finished. “I will not run. Not this time.”

The captain’s aura surged again, stronger and colder than before, but the Duke held his ground through sheer will.

The standoff continued for ten more minutes.

Ten agonizing minutes of unrelenting pressure. The Duke’s arms trembled from the strain, his legs felt like lead, and his vision blurred at the edges. Yet he did not fall. The guilt that had haunted him for decades now fueled his defiance.

Then, surprisingly, the captain lowered his aura.

The black storm receded as quickly as it had come, dissolving into faint wisps of shadow that faded into the darkness of the forest. The oppressive weight lifted from the air, and the Duke could finally breathe without feeling like his lungs were being crushed.

He frowned in surprise.

“What are you playing at now?”

His voice had regained some of its strength now that the pressure had eased.

But instead of responding to the Duke, the captain simply lowered his aura completely. Before long, the oppressive energy vanished entirely, as if it had never existed. A chilling silence filled the forest as the air finally breathed in relief. The remaining trees stopped their unnatural creaking. The faint wind that had carried the stench of decay died down. Even the ground seemed to settle.

The captain then turned away from the Duke and sighed.

“Astran… I do not know what has turned you this way,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of genuine curiosity. “And I certainly do not know how you have regained the courage to talk like this.”

He paused, as if rethinking something.

“But as someone who had fought side by side with you once,” he continued, his tone shifting to something almost regretful, “I will give you one final piece of advice… Do not interfere in the matter of the Herald.”

The Duke trembled slightly at the name. He hated himself for it. It was just a name. A name. Yet why did he feel so much fear from just a name? The memories of the Great Campaign flooded back and it only increased the shaking.

Somehow, managing to compose himself, the Duke whispered back to the captain.

“Are you going to let me go?”

The captain then replied:

“I do not have any reasons to kill you right now. But if you go down this path… you will certainly die. And it won’t end with just you. Your wife, your family… your whole duchy.”

He glanced sideways at the Duke and then… he simply disappeared.

“…”

The Duke remained standing in his position for a few more moments, his eyes locked onto the place where the captain had stood. His heart pounded heavily in his chest and each beat echoed like a war drum in his ears. The golden barrier around him slowly dissolved as he finally allowed himself to lower his guard. His shoulders slumped, and a deep breath of relief left his mouth before he knew it.

He had survived.

For now.

**

While all of this was going on, the Duchy of Astran was shrouded in darkness.

Even so, the castle was still buzzing with faint activity. Servants moved quietly through the corridors, carrying trays of late-night refreshments or preparing rooms for the envoy’s stay. There was a certain excitement in the nobles who lingered in the smaller halls and private chambers.

After all, it was not just any day that they would receive a message from the royal palace, and to top it off, something positive.

This was no small matter.

It served as a powerful answer to throw in the faces of the sly dogs who had been waiting to see how this situation would put Astran on the back foot with the royal palace.

Most importantly, this also helped in pushing back against Liam’s faction. In what felt like ages, there was no longer a stalemate. The Duke’s faction was definitely stronger now, bolstered by Olivia’s breakthrough and the public show of royal favor.

**

A few more hours passed.

In one of the massive private rooms of the duchy, a woman was seen standing before a tall, ornate mirror.

She wore a light white nighty. The fabric was incredibly soft, almost weightless, seeming to melt against her mature curves like a second skin. It clung gently to the full swell of her breasts, the smooth dip of her waist, and the generous flare of her hips.

The material was semi-translucent in the soft glow of the mana lamp, hinting at the warm, pale skin beneath without fully revealing it. Her hair cascaded freely down her back, still slightly damp from a recent bath. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were locked onto her own reflection, wide and conflicted, as if she were staring at a stranger.

Slapp

Then, without any warning, she slapped herself.

Her face jerked to the other side from the sheer force of it and a red imprint bloomed on her cheek almost instantly. She stared at her reflection again, her hand still raised as if ready to strike once more.

“Am I really that excited?” she said to herself, her voice a mix of disbelief and self-loathing.

The woman was none other than Olivia.

Ever since she had returned from the meeting with the envoy, she had replayed the conversation with Kraven hundreds of times in her mind. The promise she had made. The deal she had struck. She was going to pleasure him… her own son.

At first, she had felt disgusted with herself. The very idea had made her stomach twist. She had even thought of cancelling… of finding some excuse to avoid him tonight.

But with each passing hour, her curiosity had risen to dangerous levels.

What would happen?

How would he feel?

How would she feel?

All those questions clouded her mind, making her unable to think clearly. She had tried to distract herself with preparations for the evening, with checking on the servants, with reviewing letters from the capital.

But every quiet moment brought her back to the memory of his hands on her breasts, the heat of his body pressed against her back, the way his hardness had felt against her ass when he had grind into her.

Olivia stared at her reflection again. The red mark was fading, but the flush on her face remained. The white nighty felt too revealing now. She could see the outline of her body in the mirror and somehow, she looked like a woman ready for sin, not a dignified Duchess.

slappp

She slapped herself again, lighter this time, but the sting still brought tears to her eyes.

This is wrong, she told herself. He is your son. Your flesh and blood. You are supposed to protect him, guide him, not… not this.

But the mana exchange had changed something inside her. The breakthrough to Arch Mage had left her body hypersensitive, and the promise she had made… it lingered like a chain around her neck.

She had given her word. If she backed out now, what would he think? What would he do? The fear of disappointing him, of losing the strange, complicated connection they now shared, warred with her moral instincts.