Netori: Reborn as the Human Aphrodisiac

At the Port of Rostro, largest seaport of the Purple Dawn Continent, the Seafaring King received a pair of unexpected undead visitors: the demigod Belphegor, and the demon king Zagan. Zagan stood on Belphegor's shoulder, his clown mask rotating nonstop as he cackled and jungled with his knives.

The Seafaring King, on the other end, couldn't stop shivering—and for good reasons. He was just a figurehead, a nominal ruler set up by the Seafaring Lords to give their naval alliance a symbol to rally around and a sense of cohesion.

The man had no real power and was forced to live in a lavish estate of Rostro, free of charge—never allowed to leave the confines of his magnificent residence without an escort of slaves and skilled bodyguards. A tragedy, indeed!

"Huhuhuhu!" Zagan's laugh turned shrill and psychotic, making the poor king break into a cold sweat while Belphegor's eyes narrowed a little, sweeping the pale gray statues in the throne room. Each reminisced of a cross between elven warriors and ancient Greek heroes, the type of combination that felt out of place in the Purple Dawn Continent.

Belphegor's eyes trailed on one particular statue, and with his eyes still locked on the sculpture, he swept at the middle-aged king, conjuring a cleaver of darkness that hacked through the Seafaring King's neck!

The poor king's head soared towards the ceiling, his blood pouring out while Zagan's laugh thundered at maximum pitch. The moment next, the beheaded king's skull broke into dust, another, younger and more chiseled head reforming on his neck as his ears stretched and his skin took a pale-gray shade.

The Seafaring King's eyes turned sanguine red, and to no one's surprise, the 12 statues in the throne room stirred to life, ambling at Belphegor and Zagan with predatory smiles and disturbing composure.

"Partial Stasis…" Belphegor recognized the ability that enabled these Warghests to hide in plain sight. If not for his Perfect Eye, he wouldn't have been able to notice them—proof that these creatures' camouflage skills had already reached the top of the Purple Dawn. The 12 Warghests now closed in on the Angra duo, surrounding them in a battle formation.

"Foolishness. The Seafaring Nations' secession has been in the works for days already. You're only here because our prince has decided to reveal the heist's result. So, what made you think he didn't plan for your counterattack as well?

How terrifying that it just takes one wrong step to be rewarded with a lifetime of failure.

Sir Belphegor, the time that the Seafaring Lords bowed and scraped at the Angra Theocracy's feet now comes to an end. The Sun's light shines upon us…and dispels the darkness of Mainyu!" The Seafaring King declared, and in sync with the 12 other Warghests, extended his claws at the Zagan-Belphegor duo.

[Soporific Gift of Death]

Pitch-black fog erupted from the Warghests, embroiling the Angra duo in a veil of darkness. And yet…the worst had yet to come.

Because as Belphegor wondered where these Golden Palace tier Warghests were getting all that confidence from, a colossal reptilian head emerged from the darkness, its steel-colored skin shining with solar rays as its flaming red eyes nailed Belphegor with matchless intensity.

Drakneil, King of Warghests, had emerged from the shadows, transformed and improved by Mithras' blood so that his original gargoyle appearance morphed into that of a draconic beast.

But it wasn't the physical changes that drew Belphegor's attention. Under the influence of Mithras' blood, Drakneil had ascended to the divine class!

Not only that, but…

"Embryonic…Wisdom?" The Perfect Eye could tell no lie. Drakneil had risen to Embryonic Wisdom. Add to that the pedigree of a divine class monster and the current Drakneil…was a match for a God! Minor Gods no doubt, but Gods all the same!

Belphegor was strong, but Embryonic Wisdom was not a level he could mess with. Knocked out of his weight class, the undead knight now had to rely on Zagan, who following Akamana's promotion to Blood Authority…could now use about 50% of his true powers, enough to face a minor deity.

Alas…

"Huhuhuhu! Belphegor…we…have been checkmated!" Zagan gave up outright. And as Belphegor wondered why the former Preceptor and King of the Reincarnated Demon race refused to put up a fight, a pair of Abominations appeared at his back:

Hadrian and Arminius' Abominations! Dive into the story on m|vl em pyr

The first generation's Abominations were all at the peak of Blood Authority with complete mastery of the Blood and Dark Rites. The fight had yet to start, but with Drakneil and two Abominations to back up the Warghests…the Angra Theocracy…was completely outmatched!

Even the Demon Nobles hiding in the shadows knew that this fight was a lost cause. So, as the veteran of a thousand battlefields, how could Belphegor not tell? The knight didn't care either way, refusing to give up without a fight and disgrace the Angra name.

The two had no further exchange, yet Zagan understood his team leader's thoughts, joining his hands and resuming his shrill laugh.

[Rite of Entropy: World of Darkness]

Zagan unleashed his Dark Rites, kickstarting the war between the Angra Theocracy…and the Principality of Astalon!

---

Meanwhile, Akamana floundered in Mithras' arms, forced to sit on his lap as the two nuzzled in a dreary silence.

The situation was bad, scandalous and disastrous even. In all the bluster and excitement of the recent events, the Grand Priestess had lost sight of the big picture, enabling Mithras to uproot a pillar of her continental empire.

But what could she have done to stop him? Even sending Belphegor and Zagan was a mistake in hindsight. A rash and reckless move sparked by an outburst of rage, that now put Akamana's strongest and most reliable warriors' lives in Mithras' hands—her brother included.

'And to think I still need to secure his help for Menaka. Not even there yet and I need more favors. Checkmated by a teenager in broad daylight. I'm not just getting sloppy. This…is a complete disgrace.' Akamana thought while nuzzling with Mithras, her brain racing to come up with countermeasures, but failing each time.

This wasn't about strength or military power. Mithras' blood no doubt possessed irresistible appeal. But it was the Angra nobles' treatment of the Seafaring Nations that made the choice so easy. Generations of resentment conflated with the chance to overthrow the Angra made this choice a no-brainer!

Now what to do? Was she really supposed to let it go just like that? Where would that put her prestige and authority as overlord of the Purple Dawn?

Power is a mix of facts and illusions. The perception of strength as important as the might of the army. And so, the first rule of dictatorship…is that an absolute ruler…can never look weak!

But Mithras' move didn't just make Akamana look weak. It made her look like a fool! A complete idiot!

Mithras' hold wasn't so strong that Akamana couldn't break out if she was resolved to. But break out for what? Teleport to Rostro and save her subordinates? Would Mithras just sit and watch? Of course not!

The Grand Priestess' thoughts were all over the place, her eyes turning bloodshot as she nuzzled with her cutie pie.

"Tough, isn't it? To put aside your pride, clench your fists and suck up the L so you can keep your lover in your arms. So tough…especially for kings and bosses who don't even belong to themselves.

Yeah, that's the problem with you monarchs and large faction leaders. You guys have so much on your plate that devotion to your partner…is not something you're capable of.

It pisses me off—so much so that sometimes I dream of destroying the Angra Theocracy to keep you for myself 24/7," Mithras broke the silence, the poise in his voice contrasting with the psychotic implications.

"Is that for real? You…the cutie pie who goes to great lengths to keep bloodshed to a minimum in all his heists and religiously prevents innocents from catching strays—you—would destroy the Angra Theocracy just to keep me for yourself 24/7?

I want to see that. Go ahead Mithras, destroy the Angra Theocracy for me. I swear I will find another way to keep your bank account stuffed. Come on, show me your love!" But as Mithras expected Akamana to shiver at his words, the Grand Priestess' eyes lit up, and with stars in her eyes, she grabbed Mithras' hands, begging him to follow through!

"Hum…no. I'm just goofing around. There's no such simp activity as dreaming about hussies in Mithras' nights." Realizing that he was digging his own grave and paying for the coffin, Mithras retracted his statement, his words instantly causing poor Akamana's mood to sink straight to hell.

"With that said, I have yet to decide if you're wifey or hussy material. That's still up for debate. So don't overthink it.

As for the Seafaring Nations…we can keep the ownership change a secret so long as you remember that Springtime City only has one ruler: me.

Call it my…proof of affection. Only I can shame you, Mana. I won't allow the world to laugh at your expense—not now or ever.

I'm keeping your brother though. Gonna experiment on him a little." Mithras leaned in, his lips brushing with Akamana's as his hands wandered below her waist. She didn't resist, pressing her breasts into Mithras' chest while locking her legs around his waist.

"Ohhh…jealous? Rest easy, cutie pie. Most people are not like you and don't diddle their siblings. Siblings are usually off-limits by default. We respect that where I'm from. So, no need to be jealous of Belphy.

He's inoffensive…unlike you, for sure," Akamana clapped back, revealing knowledge she wasn't supposed to possess.

"Even Vel doesn't know about Ishtar and me. How do you?" Mithras' eyes narrowed, and realizing that she'd just exposed something she wasn't supposed to know, the Grand Priestess grabbed her mouth, looking sideways and hoping Mithras would let go.

"Mhm…" Akamana hummed in discomfort, and figuring out the obvious answer, Mithras' eyes flashed with enlightenment.

"You were watching! No way. 1,000 years old! A 1,000-year-old deviant! Akamana, shame on you!" Realizing that Akamana was also present during the events of the Divine Blood Wedding, Mithras flew into a rage, vanishing in a burst of sanguine mist.

"Did you...really have to say it like that?"

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