Ch.287Solution (10)

No one appeared until all the acts were finished.

This was truly fortunate for Llewellyn, though Ortemilia didn’t seem to care at all.

Indeed, it was fitting for one of the Three Tribes who had no social norms, morals, ethics, or shame to speak of. There was even an atmosphere suggesting that even if a prophet, empress, or court count were to enter during their lovemaking to address some matter, she would continue without concern.

Llewellyn was wise enough not to make the mistake of asking if that would really be the case, as the answer was obvious.

After everything was finished, after redressing her in her loosened clothes, and after she had placed her underwear—which she complained felt uncomfortable on the floor—into Llewellyn’s pocket.

She gently rubbed her belly, which had endured what could only be described as domestic violence that wasn’t quite domestic violence, and smiled with satisfaction.

“I look forward to the next egg I’ll lay.”

More precisely, she said this as they were tidying their clothes and moving away from the bodily fluids scattered on the floor.

“…What?”

Perhaps she hadn’t expected Llewellyn to question her, as Ortemilia stared blankly while touching her belly before tilting her head with an “Hmm?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said I look forward to bearing your child.”

“…Really? For real?”

Llewellyn was well aware of what he had done and the consequences of his actions. However, he wasn’t sure if the same applied to Ortemilia, who could be considered an oddity even among necromancers.

Considering the difference in their physical sizes, the possibility of conception seemed small.

Llewellyn’s face turned pale as he recalled the amount of fluid he had released.

Ortemilia didn’t respond further. Perhaps she thought it was a joke, or perhaps she felt there was no need to answer.

She simply walked alongside Llewellyn for a while before stopping.

“Hmm, my stomach feels a bit sore and my groin hurts. Could you carry me on your back? Carrying your mother should be fine, right?”

Llewellyn, not wanting to watch her continue to walk awkwardly, carried Ortemilia on his back.

Ortemilia seemed pleased being carried. Despite the violence poured into her womb, she felt light. Perhaps because her frustration had been relieved.

She didn’t seem bothered by the fact that they had been intimate despite their quasi-mother-son relationship. Truly characteristic of the Three Tribes.

So Llewellyn repeated the question that had gone unanswered earlier.

“…Do you really lay eggs?”

And Llewellyn couldn’t help but ask that way.

“Hmm? You should have known. Haven’t you eaten some of the eggs I’ve laid before?”

“Well, yes, but…”

He knew that Ortemilia laid eggs.

But the idea that she would conceive his “seed” as an egg was a bit… strange.

Of course, that would make sense, but it was still difficult to simply accept, as it contradicted what he considered common sense or his understanding.

Llewellyn was concerned about this.

“Really… when you have a child, it comes from an egg…?”

“Wouldn’t it? Well, I’ve never had a child before.”

Llewellyn’s pupils trembled in confusion at Ortemilia’s words.

“I should say, this was my first time embracing a man. It was a wonderful experience. Personally, I’d like to do it often.”

“R-really?”

“It was a wonderful experience. I enjoyed it.”

Ortemilia hummed affirmatively, while Llewellyn seemed satisfied with that fact itself.

The two continued walking, one carrying and one being carried.

“When we return, I should seriously consider staying together in the bedroom.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll try to persuade your sister.”

“Right…”

Clearly, embracing Ortemilia and everything Llewellyn had done was his own will.

But he couldn’t say there had been no impulse involved. Llewellyn was certain that as much as he had enjoyed it, all of it had been influenced by his impulses and Ortemilia’s encouragement.

“Pregnancy… I should call it that, is it certain?”

But isn’t getting pregnant after doing it once a bit much?

Llewellyn asked this because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to become a father, and Ortemilia let out a small laugh before pressing against Llewellyn’s nape.

“I suppose so. Probably.”

She wasn’t speaking with certainty. Llewellyn continued walking, thinking that surely she wouldn’t get pregnant.

“What do you plan to do now?”

Ortemilia asked Llewellyn casually.

Llewellyn rolled his eyes as he pondered.

“It would be best to put what I’ve thought about into action.”

The solution he had in mind. Ortemilia had heard it before, so she let out a small laugh and quietly rested her cheek against his nape.

Her asymmetrical bangs, long enough to cover one eye, rustled against Llewellyn’s nape, tickling him, and Llewellyn mumbled as he felt that ticklish sensation.

What he could do, what he had to do.

It was rare for these to align. But he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.

“I’d like to tell you to be cautious, but the situation isn’t that favorable. However, anyone in the pantheon will listen to your opinion…”

Ortemilia was right. Llewellyn was clearly the master of the pantheon and the king of the Three Tribes.

Depending on how the fourth tribe responded, he might even become the king of four tribes.

But that was up to the dragons, not Llewellyn. Llewellyn sighed.

With a clear mind after relieving his frustration, Llewellyn’s plan didn’t seem so bad.

‘We’ll use their enormity to our advantage.’

The God of Dreams had said so, and Llewellyn thought that if there was a possibility, it lay there.

Using the enormity of the transcendents, the immense power they possessed.

Since they had no common goal, he couldn’t aim for mutual destruction, but something similar was entirely possible. Llewellyn believed his chances of success lay there.

So the plan would proceed as scheduled. Unless a better strategy came to mind, he couldn’t afford to sit idle.

Time was approaching moment by moment. Netel was trying to close the world, and was actually in the process of closing it.

The transcendents’ rampages would gradually worsen.

The more she tried to close it, the more she closed it, the stronger their offensive would become, and not only resistance but also the aggressiveness of their actions would change.

But he couldn’t interfere with what Netel was doing. After all, Netel had chosen the direct approach, and the direct approach would at least prevent the worst outcome.

It might not be the best solution, but Netel wouldn’t care about that.

Even if Llewellyn attempted to negotiate and asked her to stop closing the world, there was a high chance she wouldn’t care.

To her, most humans except Llewellyn were like invisible germs or insects.

Germs and insects that she herself didn’t care about. She didn’t hate or dislike them, but since she couldn’t feel or see them, she couldn’t pay attention to such small things.

Even if she did stop, it would be problematic. It was easy to predict how the transcendents would respond.

It was so simple that it was problematic. Would those who had been plotting to interfere with the closing door rejoice and stop everything to live in peace when the closing door stopped?

Llewellyn thought that if it were him, he would seize that opportunity to tear everything apart.

If just two of the transcendents did so, Netel would be destroyed. The rank and power of the transcendents were on par with Netel, and no matter how powerful Netel was, she couldn’t fight against two or more beings of equal or higher rank while protecting what she needed to protect.

He had a plan and a direction, but the method and timing were issues. Llewellyn stopped speaking with a groan, and Ortemilia, who had been showing affection by rubbing her cheek against Llewellyn’s nape, suddenly raised her head.

“Llewellyn.”

Ortemilia called his name quietly. A voice filled with vigilance. But Llewellyn showed neither vigilance nor caution.

“Emperor.”

He simply addressed the guest who had been quietly waiting.

There were long columns lined up. Behind one of them, there was a presence.

A presence so faint that a human might not notice it. A body with no breath or heartbeat, appearing neither alive nor dead, but containing immensely powerful divinity.

Llewellyn looked at his sister with short-cut hair.

A woman who walked out from behind the column and smiled faintly.

A woman with the same face and eye color as Lucilla, but characterized by her radically exposed skin and short hair—the Emperor.

“What brings you here?”

Llewellyn was wary of the Emperor.

The Emperor seemed to welcome Llewellyn’s wariness, smiling brightly.

“A sister visiting her brother should be a normal thing.”

“You’re the younger sibling. I’m the older brother.”

“Forcing it won’t change what can’t be changed. You’re the youngest.”

“Nonsense. What kind of older sister are you? An older sister should be dignified and…”

“No, no. Why are you both talking nonsense? Asking about the purpose of the visit should come first.”

The siblings, Llewellyn and the Emperor, quietly looked at each other as if realizing they were doing something foolish.

After a dramatic agreement, they decided to pretend nothing had happened.

“So, why are you here?”

“I have a message.”

Llewellyn raised an eyebrow at the Emperor’s answer.

At the same time, he felt some resistance.

‘No, if you have business, just state it directly. Why waste time with nonsense…’

But he didn’t say it out loud. If the conversation dragged on, Ortemilia would scold him.

Having become physically intimate, he couldn’t ignore Ortemilia. Llewellyn was loyal in that regard.

“From Netel?”

The Emperor didn’t answer, but her attitude revealed the answer.

An attitude suggesting who else would she be delivering a message for. It was an unpleasant attitude, and Llewellyn inwardly thought, ‘This fucking woman, to her older brother…’ before stopping himself.

Strangely, despite having the same face as his sister, he could treat her harshly. Even more harshly than his sister in bed.

“What on earth do you have to tell me? Everything was going according to plan…”

“The resistance is intensifying.”

Resistance. Llewellyn didn’t bother asking whose resistance it was. He knew without asking.

“And she has discerned that you have a strategy. Perhaps you’ve already communicated it.”

Netel exists beyond time. Llewellyn believed in the possibility but didn’t know specifically what she wanted to convey.

“Are you saying we should execute the plan?”

He hadn’t yet shared the plan with the Emperor. In fact, she was so elusive that it was closer to say he couldn’t share it with her.

She would disappear without a trace while he was looking for her, and she wouldn’t show herself unless necessary.

While he thought she might have some special power, it wasn’t immediately important.

Llewellyn didn’t ask how she knew about his plan. She must have heard it through Netel.

So Llewellyn silently looked at the Emperor, and the Emperor looked at Llewellyn.

“After the sun sets six times and the moon rises six times. Mother intends to close the world in earnest at that time.”

One week. Before Llewellyn could widen his eyes at the fact that only a week remained.

“At that time, put your plan into action.”

He knew the time to end it was approaching.