The Conquerors Path Chapter 1006 - 1004-Lets Try My Luck With Death.

~6 minute read · 1,615 words

Previously on The Conquerors Path...

In the tense war room meeting, the faction leaders debated recruitment strategies for their new group, outlining tangible benefits for each tier. Foundation recruits would gain access to shared resources and public logs ensuring fair distribution based on contributions, while Core members receive faction-specific techniques and priority artifacts. Officers earn command and top resources tied to results, and elite holdouts join as Advisors with autonomy, veto power, and prime perks. Concerns arose over the corrupted land and legal costs for jumpers defecting from the War Council, but assurances of quick outposts and transparent governance began swaying the skeptical assembly.

My mind wandered while I fixed my stare on Tria Twilight as she shifted about before me. Following those dull conversations and negotiations regarding the establishment of my faction and arranging details, I sliced through space and ended up here—more precisely, at the location where Tria is proceeding now. I'd received word that her actions had deviated slightly from her typical routine, leading me to shadow her personally, for I detected a significant event heading my direction.

With eyes narrowed, I watched Tria intently as she swapped her outfit. At present, I'm located in a modest town under the Twilight Empire's domain, nothing grand but a quaint settlement near an expansive forest, and Tria has journeyed to this spot. Lacking strong influence within her own family, she managed to secure covert approval to visit the town.

’Now this is very interesting indeed.’

’It’s been too long keeping her at bay anyway.’

Her fingers located the laces along the side of her snug traveling gown. With skilled tugs, she loosened them, allowing the material to slide silently from her form.

Initially revealed was the generous curve of her breasts, ample and weighty yet remarkably firm, requiring scant assistance to stand proud. As the gown descended further, they sprang forth, their creamy pale surface glowing under the amber glow, with nipples already hardened into sharp tips from the chill breeze grazing them. Such bosoms were the sort to stir deep hunger in any man—plump, solid, ideally sized for a grasp, possessing that enticing jiggle with every motion.

The gown gathered at her hips, and she twisted her hips slightly to let it fall completely. Her figure was slim and toned in that alluring, fit manner—narrow midsection widening to hips ideal for clutching, a backside so curvaceous and taut it appeared crafted for slapping and parting. The sinews in her thighs tightened as she emerged from the cloth, displaying elongated, sculpted legs capable of encircling a man's torso and locking him in place as she drove him to oblivion. No excess softness anywhere undesired; her entire form was streamlined, silky, and yearning for contact.

Now fully bare, Tria rose onto her tiptoes, extending her arms skyward and curving her spine like a feline in estrus. This pose stretched her abdomen firm—level and etched with subtle muscular traces—and thrust those flawless breasts upward, nipples aimed directly aloft as if craving caresses. My gaze trailed downward, absorbing the bald, smooth rise between her legs. Her sex formed a narrow crease, faintly shining already in the balmy illumination, with outer folds full and rosy, inner ones emerging slightly as if pleading to be tasted apart.

She pivoted gradually, offering a complete panorama—by the gods, that rear. A pair of impeccable, heart-like globes, resilient enough to quiver during strides but yielding enough for digits to plunge in. The valley separating them was profound and alluring, and as she leaned slightly to retrieve a new gown from the bed, everything became visible: the snug rosebud of her rear entrance and how her sex folds separated subtly to reveal the damp, sparkling opening that appeared so petite, so incredibly snug.

’I can understand a bit why people like this.’

Naturally, surrounding her were numerous guard soldiers who accompanied her, all positioned around this small inn that's currently taken over. My focus sharpened now on her donning a fresh outfit.

Yet the core inquiry remains: what brought her to this place? With a few rapid queries to my system, which eagerly exchanged the details for points, I deduced a clearer motive for her visit, and the revelation captivated me. Who could have imagined such a vital historical realm exists here?

Apparently, she arrived to claim it, already devising strategies to secure it once more. What amused me was observing her current demeanor. The usual soft, innocent visage I recalled from before had transformed into one of profound serenity, akin to a mask forged from witnessing endless carnage and ruin—the expression of a warrior forged in battle, carrying that haunted, post-trauma stare, I'd wager.

Tria proceeded, and after slipping into her new attire, she approached a nearby table, her hands drifting as she extracted a volume, an attractive yet battered tome that she clutched. She settled at the table, facing it, and flipped it open. Without even directing my sight toward it, I scanned its entirety in a flash, uniquely comprehending it. The entries were inscribed in a cryptic, code-based style, ensuring that even if seized, no one could decipher them without the key.

Intrigued by the puzzle, I devoted a few moments mentally to unravel the pattern, soon grasping the deeper meanings within the book, which delivered an unexpected revelation as I comprehended them.

The primary query posed in her book states:

I chuckled inwardly at those vulgar phrases penned by such a delicate-seeming blossom like her; her writing manner evoked a trooper's bluntness, leaving me deeply fascinated by the whole affair. The subsequent query truly seized my focus, solidifying the theory I formed upon first encountering her.

I must admit, her inquiries delving into this aspect were quite enjoyable, as they reinforced the possibility that she hails from a timeline where I perished in flames alongside Liora. Still, my central wonder persists: what sort of existence has she endured? Which protagonist does she connect to? The deeds performed and their motives represent crucial knowledge I require.

Fortunately, certain phrases in the book as questions unveiled some insights for me, while spawning fresh queries. A few revelations proved startling, but I committed them to memory, realizing that abandoning Tria to her own devices would be unwise. She embodies a volatile explosive altering the world with each step, much like myself.

An additional element is her extreme caution toward me. Though I might have preserved her life in some manner, it earned me no favor from her. Rather, it amplified her suspicion of me, since it appears that in a reality without my presence, she struggled to navigate ahead.

The sole positive note is that she credits most global shifts to me, with numerous beneficial alterations that she views as partly advantageous and partly detrimental.

However, her intentions to distance Carmel from me pose a challenge, her notes about them being meant for him, her need to aid him, and the smudged phrases she jotted down revealed who truly stood by her side in the past—a figure I intend to address in due time.

The most captivating aspect is the emotional tangle it presents. She seems beholden to this protagonist of ours, yet harbors a complex blend of affection and resentment. My lips curled at the predictable tropes unfolding here, but it's to my benefit. Given the affection-resenment dynamic, Austin Lionheart has an opening to exploit.

I simply must escalate the resentment beyond the affection, as currently the fondness outweighs the bitterness. It shall become my solemn mission to ensure the resentment endures longest, allowing me to claim the affection. Pondering this, I noticed Tria shutting the book and rising. Evidently, she's prepared to venture into this historical realm.

Over recent days, she verified that the historical realm remained unaltered and conditions were consistent, so bolstered by that assurance, she intends to enter and seize the legacies and treasures anew.

Looking back, I'm not truly opposed to her acquiring this treasure, but why discard an ideal chance presented to me?

The challenge lies in executing it without heightening existing doubts. This demands precise handling. Actually, were it not for the nature of this historical realm, I'd possess greater choices, but tampering with this particular one requires caution, lest I attract unwanted scrutiny.

With that in mind, I positioned myself before a tree in the woods, an ancient, inky-black trunk that exuded menace and peril at first sight. A subtle aura of demise coiled about it, a degraded divine essence tied to death eroding here, indicating ties to the Goddess of Death herself.

Among the various deities demanding wariness, Orpheus and his divine mother had emphatically warned to tread carefully around the Goddess of Death. Her circumstances, psyche, and perception differ markedly from other gods. She seldom emerges from her domain, devoting herself entirely to ruling her shadows, and maintains no close bonds. Moreover, she's reputed to possess a distinctive disposition.

Clinging to that fact, my perceptions warned that contacting this tree, despite my abilities, wouldn't grant entry to the historical world. Instead, I'd be drawn into the realm under the Goddess of Death's watch. Indeed, even now, I sense her scrutiny upon me. She's seizing this chance to lure me in, and the outcome remains unpredictable this time.

Yet failing to address this would prevent me from pursuing my desired maneuvers here. Therefore, after some contemplation, I laid my hand upon the tree, and instantly, my awareness faded to blackness.