Check out early access chapters on my Patréon, currently 2 chapters ahead! (Writing today cuz I'm behind)
🛑patreón.com/AlienWarlord🛑
——————
🚨Insert Snoring GIFs/PICs here - Most likes wins🚨(A/N: only TWO entries per person!)
🏆Last chapters GIF winner(s): A_zombie_jack!🏆 (A/N: 👑)
A blinding flash of light erupted in Muyeon's bedroom, depositing him with Sandersonia cradled in his arms, her bloodied, broken body dripping crimson. Hancock and Marigold, unconscious, slumped over his shoulders, their weight a minor burden.
He moved swiftly, his mind already calculating.
Muyeon knelt, laying Sandersonia on the stone floor, unwilling to let her gore stain his pristine bed. 'The maids already changed the sheets from Hancock and Marigold's blood…'
He shrugged Hancock and Marigold onto the mattress, their limp forms sprawling across the bed. Time was critical, and Sandersonia's faint breaths demanded action.
He crossed to his cultivation bathtub, which he uses for meditation and healing after training.
{Target vitals critical. Immediate intervention required.}
Muyeon's jaw tightened, his hand diving into the chat inventory.
Spiritual herbs materialized, their luminescent leaves pulsing with energy. He pulled over a dozen—far more than he'd used on Hancock and Marigold combined—knowing Sandersonia's peeled skin and pierced flesh required it. Each herb was a treasure, and his gut twisted at the waste.
'It's fine, I still have hundreds more…'
Sandersonia was a useless tagalong, a liability in his eyes. But Hancock's loyalty was a prize worth securing, and her sister's survival was the key. Muyeon couldn't afford to be stingy, not if he wanted Hancock bound to him.
He tossed the herbs into the tub, their essence dissolving into the water. The liquid glowed, a vibrant emerald laced with power, ripples dancing with healing energy.
{Herb efficacy: 95%}
Muyeon returned to Sandersonia, her green hair matted with blood, her body a map of Jalmack's cruelty. He lifted her carefully, ignoring the slick warmth of her wounds. Her faint whimper stirred no pity—only necessity drove him.
He lowered her into the tub, ensuring her head rested above the glowing water. The herbs' energy enveloped her, seeping into her ravaged flesh, her breaths steadying slightly. Muyeon stepped back, his eyes cold, assessing her like a chess piece.
Muyeon's mind churned—every herb spent was a calculated investment in Hancock's gratitude. Sandersonia's life was a means to an end, nothing more.
He glanced at the bed, where Hancock and Marigold lay, their faces peaceful despite the chaos they'd endured. They'd wake soon, likely furious with him for knocking them out.
'I can worry about that later…'
Muyeon's lips twitched, a faint smirk forming. Healing Sandersonia was a costly move, but Hancock's loyalty would repay it tenfold. For now, he'd wait, his plans already shifting to the Demon Academy.
The tub's glow cast eerie shadows, Sandersonia's form a fragile silhouette within. Muyeon turned away, his bedroom silent save for the sisters' breathing.
…
..
.
A night passed, the sisters' breathing the only sound in Muyeon's bedroom. At sunrise, golden light streamed through the windows, rousing Hancock and Marigold. They stirred on Muyeon's bed, his shirtless form sleeping between them, chiseled chest rising with each breath.
Hancock's cheeks flushed, her eyes lingering on Muyeon's sculpted frame. Marigold shot upright, heart pounding, Sandersonia's tortured image flooding her mind. "Sonia?!" Her frantic scream snapped Hancock from her daze, memories of Jalmack's dungeon crashing in.
Their commotion woke Muyeon, who sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Calm down," he said, voice steady, "your sister's fine." Hancock hesitated, doubt flickering, while Marigold spun, pointing an accusing finger.
"Where's Sandersonia, traitor?" Marigold spat, recalling Muyeon's brutal intervention against their attack on Jalmack. Hancock inched away, her trust wavering, wondering if she'd misjudged him. Marigold's glare burned, demanding answers.
Muyeon sighed, exasperated, swinging his legs off the bed. "Follow me," he muttered, leading them to an adjacent room.
Inside, Sandersonia lay on a bed, wrapped in bandages like a mummy, her green hair peeking out. Hancock and Marigold rushed to her side, tears welling as they checked her steady breathing. Muyeon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"I used a fortune in spiritual herbs to stabilize her," he said, voice clipped. "Bandaged her myself. A doctor's coming today to check her."
Hancock exhaled, relief washing over her, her faith in Muyeon restored. Marigold whirled, standing protectively before her sisters. "You expect us to believe your nonsense, traitor?" She snarled, "We were this close to taking out that deranged little psycho! This close! But you had to interfere!"
Muyeon stared at her, incredulous, as if she were brain-dead. "What did you think would happen if I let you attack?" he snapped. "You'd kill Jalmack? No, you'd have squandered that Marine's goodwill."
He stepped closer, voice rising. "That Marine could've crushed us. He defied Jalmack, let us go. You would've died, and Sandersonia with you."
Marigold flinched, his words cutting through her anger. "I stopped you to save your lives," Muyeon continued, "and then saved your sister. This is my thanks?"
Hancock's eyes widened, guilt replacing doubt. She stepped forward, bowing deeply. "I'm sorry, Muyeon," she said, voice trembling, "for doubting you, and on Marigold's behalf as well."
She grabbed Marigold, pushing her down to bow, glaring until her sister muttered a grudging apology. "I'm sorry…"
Marigold's jaw clenched, her distrust lingering, but she complied. Hancock's gaze pleaded for forgiveness, her loyalty to Muyeon clear.
Muyeon nodded, his anger cooling. "The doctor'll be here soon," he said, turning to leave. "Stay with her."
The sisters knelt by Sandersonia, Hancock's hand brushing her bandages, tears of relief falling. Marigold's protective stance softened, but her eyes tracked Muyeon's exit.
Muyeon stepped into the hall, the sisters' voices fading. Their gratitude was a tool, but Marigold's hostility was a thorn. He'd handle it, as always, with precision.
As he turned to walk away, suddenly, Lady Mu's imposing figure blocked his path, her silk robes shimmering in the light. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Another one, Muyeon?" she purred, her voice laced with teasing. She leaned closer, inspecting him like a hawk eyeing its prey. "Your collection's growing."
Muyeon scoffed, shaking his head. "She's Hancock's sister, Mother," he said, his voice flat. "She needed healing, that's all."
Lady Mu's skeptical gaze lingered, unconvinced, her arched brow speaking volumes. She saw puberty's fire in his actions, an awakening interest in women, not the cold strategy it truly was.
"You expect me to believe that?" she said, chuckling softly.
Muyeon sighed, walking past her. "Believe what you want, Mother."
Lady Mu's laughter followed, low and melodic. "It seems my son has truly hit puberty," she called, her words planting a seed of self-awareness.
————
The doctor arrived at midday, his leather bag clinking with tools as he entered the room where Sandersonia lay. Hancock and Marigold hovered nearby, worry painting their faces. The bandaged figure of their sister, still unconscious, was a fragile anchor in their storm of emotion.
The doctor, a stern man with steady hands, knelt beside Sandersonia. He unwrapped her bandages, revealing stitched wounds still raw from Jalmack's cruelty. Hancock's breath hitched, but Marigold's grip on her hand kept her steady.
With practiced precision, the doctor sewed new stitches, reinforcing torn flesh. His fingers moved deftly, threading needle through skin, a quiet focus cutting through the sisters' tension.
"She's healing remarkably," the doctor said, his voice calm but firm. "These injuries are severe, but her body's responding well to the herbs." He paused, meeting their eyes. "Full recovery should be in weeks, not months."
Hancock's tears spilled, a mix of joy and lingering pain. "She'll be okay?" she whispered, voice trembling. The doctor nodded, packing his tools, leaving hope in his wake.
Marigold's shoulders sagged, her protective stance softening as tears streaked her face. She knelt by Sandersonia, brushing a bandaged arm, whispering, "You're strong, Sonia." Hancock joined her, their hands entwined over their sister's form.
The sisters' bond, forged in slavery's fire, shone in their quiet sobs. Sandersonia's steady breathing was a lifeline, pulling them from despair. The room, dim with afternoon light, felt warmer, trauma yielding to tentative hope.
Hancock's thoughts drifted to Muyeon, his costly herbs the reason Sandersonia lived. Her gratitude deepened, a debt she'd repay. Marigold, though still wary, felt a crack in her distrust, his actions undeniable.
The sisters stayed by Sandersonia, their tears a silent vow to protect her. Hancock's resolve to stand by Muyeon grew, her heart tethered to his calculated kindness.
Marigold's gaze softened, resting on Sandersonia's bandages. She didn't trust Muyeon fully, but his efforts had saved their sister. For now, that was enough.
Sandersonia's recovery, though slow, was a beacon. Hancock and Marigold clung to it, their love a shield against the past.
————
Later that night…
Muyeon returned to his room after training with Lady Mu, sweat clinging to his skin, mind racing with plans for the Demon Academy, which would start in a few days.
Closing the door behind him, he paused, spotting Hancock on his bed, her sheer sleeping gown clinging to her curves, long legs glowing in the moonlight. Her beauty stirred even his disciplined mind, a whisper of Lady Mu's puberty taunt echoing.
Hancock sprang up, flustered, like a child caught sneaking. She silently thanked the stars she'd resisted snooping around his room. Jalmack's horrors plagued her mind, pulling her from bed to Muyeon's room, where she waited for him.
He raised a brow, unbothered, peeling off his sweaty clothes. "What's up?" he asked, tossing his shirt aside. Hancock's cheeks burned, her eyes darting away but stealing glances at his toned form.
She stammered, forcing words past her shyness. "Thank you, Muyeon," she said, voice soft. "For saving my sisters, keeping your promise, stopping us from attacking Garp, using your precious herbs—especially for Sonia."
Muyeon stripped fully, Hancock's gaze widening at his exposed form, her face beet red. He stepped into the prepared bath, adding dozens of spiritual herbs, the water glowing emerald.
{Herb concentration optimal. Cultivation mode engaged.}
He sank in, feeling Nano drawing in Ki for him, smirking at Hancock's embarrassment. "It's fine," he said, voice teasing. "I got a good reward, didn't I? That date you owe me."
Hancock averted her eyes, mortified. Muyeon leaned back, amused. "How about a date when Sandersonia's healed? She's practically comatose, but the doctor says she'll wake soon."
Hancock nodded eagerly, then caught herself, blushing harder.
"Maybe in your world?" Muyeon suggested, eyes glinting. "I want to explore it."
Her face fell, spitting Jalmack's name like poison. "Won't we return to his mansion? What if another Marine is there? We're not strong enough to escape."
Muyeon nodded. "Not yet," he said. "But I will be, and I'll slaughter that prick Jalmack soon enough."
Hancock vibrated with bloodlust, eyes fierce. "Let me join you," she begged without even thinking.
Muyeon smirked, leaning forward. "You want to kill Jalmack with me?" he asked, voice low.
She nodded, resolute, but deflated, admitting, "But I'm not strong enough. I'd just drag you down."
He shrugged, water rippling. "Anyone can grow stronger with hard work," he said. "Are you willing to put in the effort?"
Hancock's jaw set, her resolve ironclad. "Yes," she said, voice steady. "Whatever it takes."
Muyeon's eyes gleamed. "Good," he said. "Then you'll be joining me at the Demon Academy this week."
Hancock blinked, confused. "Demon Academy?"
————
Days later, Muyeon stood outside the Dark Clan's towering gates, the morning air sharp. Hancock, who secured a spot at the Demon Academy through his clan's influence, stood beside him, her eyes resolute. The academy's shadow loomed, a crucible for their ambitions.
Lady Mu approached, her silk robes billowing, her face etched with rare worry. "Be careful, Muyeon," she said, voice soft but firm, pulling him into a tight embrace. "The Demon Academy isn't safe—not even for you."
Muyeon nodded, her warmth a fleeting comfort. The academy stripped away clan protection; death was possible if rules were followed, and the Dark Clan could not intervene. Yet, its power-ups and hidden techniques were his path to becoming Demon Lord.
Marigold and Sandersonia, the latter awake but frail, stood nearby, their gazes fixed on Hancock. Sandersonia, propped up by Marigold, looked pale, her bandages hidden under a cloak. They disliked Hancock following Muyeon, but the fact that he saved their lives earned some grudging trust.
Hancock knelt before her sisters, grasping their hands. "I'll come back stronger," she vowed, her voice steady despite tears in Marigold's eyes. Sandersonia's weak smile bolstered her resolve, their bond a quiet strength.
Marigold's jaw tightened, glancing at Muyeon. "Don't let her die," she said, voice low, a threat beneath her gratitude. Sandersonia nodded, her trust in Muyeon fragile but present.
Muyeon met their stares, unflinching. "She'll be fine," he said, his tone carrying the weight of a promise.
Lady Mu stepped back, her eyes lingering on Muyeon. "Rival clans will target you," she warned, her voice a blade. "Survive, and bring honor to the Dark Clan."
Muyeon's mind churned with strategies—rival clans, deadly trials, forbidden techniques. The academy was a gamble, but its rewards were unmatched: skills to crush Jalmack and his bodyguards, power to claim the Demon Lord's throne. He steeled himself, ready for the fight.
Hancock adjusted her cloak, her determination mirroring his. Her sisters' faith fueled her, their tearful farewell a fire in her chest. She'd train to kill Jalmack, to protect her family, no matter the cost.
Lady Mu raised a hand, a final gesture. "Go, Muyeon," she said, pride masking her fear. "Become what you're meant to be."
Muyeon turned, Hancock at his side, the Dark Clan's gates looming behind them. The academy's dangers were real—death, betrayal, unrelenting trials—but so were its promises. He'd seize every opportunity, and Hancock would rise with him.
A/N: 2261 words :)
👇🚨🥺GIVE STONES PLS🥺🚨👇