Hey everyone,
I've been thinking a lot lately about where to continue sharing my stories. After trying out other platforms, it feels like things just aren't working out the way I hoped. So, I'm seriously considering reopening my Patreon account again.
This time, though, I plan to keep things a little cleaner — I won't be uploading the spicy or R-rated chapters there anymore. I want to focus on storytelling, worldbuilding, and giving you all consistent updates without worrying about content restrictions.
What do you all think? Would you still be interested in supporting and reading on Patreon if I relaunch it that way?
Your feedback really matters to me — it'll help me decide the best direction to take moving forward.
Thank you all for sticking with me through everything. Your support means more than words can express. 💛
*****
Lyanna stared at the strange object before her, a shiver crawling down her spine. Now, in her hand, she can feel the power in it. There was something ancient and divine pulsing within it—a raw, unfiltered power that dwarfed anything she had ever felt. Not even the countless nights spent tangled with him—his body pressed against hers, flooding her again and again with that virile essence charged by the Void—could compare to all those Creampie.
Her body had learned to drink in that energy, from the deepest recesses of her womb to the warmth of her lips, greedily absorbing every drop he gave her. Yet even all those fevered sessions combined—every moan, every tremor, every time he pushed her beyond her limits—held not a fraction of the power encased in this single, glowing seed. It was overwhelming… as if the universe itself had been condensed into this fragment, and now it waited… begging to be claimed.
"Don't resist—let it merge with you!"
His voice cut through the air with commanding urgency, reverberating across the ancient forest clearing like a judgment from the roots of the world itself.
Black Dragon Lyanna's brown eyes quivered with a maelstrom of emotions—confusion, thrill, defiance, and an undercurrent of desire. Her obsidian-scaled chest rose and fell as she hesitated, her instincts clashing against her reason. Yet… she could not ignore the voice of the one that challenged her, and recently… shared pleasure, passion so primal that it doesn't exist in her Dragon Heritage.
She opened her maw slightly, exposing her fangs—yet it wasn't to strike, but to accept.
The Twisted Seed, pulsing with dark violent light interlaced with eerie veins of violet Void energy, floated into her mouth like a lover's whisper. It melted into her tongue, then surged into her throat and down to her heart core.
Her body reacted instantly.
It wasn't pain that first took her—it was heat. No… it was something deeper than mere temperature. It was primordial. A living current, like lava formed from the breath of a World Tree and the blood of a Fallen God, rushed into her veins. Her heart seized. Her wings twitched. Then it spread.
A torrent of energy erupted from within her chest, as if something ancient and wild was being awakened—or rewritten.
"Ah—!"
She stumbled back slightly, her claws digging into the hard stone ground. Her tail lashed, carving trenches into the earth.
It wasn't just magic… It was a symphony of energy so pure she hadn't seen it, a fusion of conflicting essences—Nuclear, Rot, Void, and a strange echo of Void, an ancient cultivation path long thought extinct. One that allowed Dragons and Beasts to harness twisted, darkened evolution and channel it into powerful transformations.
And now, it was hers.
Her scales shimmered—not with just black—but veins of gold, amethyst, and luminous silver spread beneath the surface like roots under bark. The power rooted itself into her soul and began modifying everything—her mana circuits, her vitality core, her very dragon essence.
She wasn't just a black dragon anymore.
She was becoming something else.
Something beautifully corrupted.
Something eternally fertile.
And in that chaotic swirl of magic and transformation, her thoughts strayed to him.
After all… it had only been a day since that wild, brutal, soul-binding mating.
She remembered his growls, his vines, the way he had forced her to submit not with violence, but with an overwhelming natural pleasure she couldn't understand—yet couldn't help but crave. It wasn't domination for dominance's sake. It was fusion. Root and scale. Thorn and fang. Moonlight and blood.
And now… she was his in more ways than one.
She felt the pulsing of the seed in her heart as it fully integrated—twisting her lifeforce with his.
"Ah… I see now…" she whispered, her tongue dragging over her lower lip. Her brown eyes dimmed to a duller red, but deeper—more ancient, more connected.
He doesn't just want me strong… He wants me changed. Mine no longer. Ours forever.
Her claws gripped the ground. Her tail coiled. Her stomach burned.
"...It's nesting magic," she realized. "The seed... it's preparing my body. He... He wants me fertile for his bloodline."
The realization didn't terrify her. It didn't disgust her.
It made her smile.
She tilted her head back, letting out a slow, trembling moan that sounded like a dragon.
"Ugh... how many will I lay, I wonder?" she whispered, her voice heavy with breath and blooming arousal.
Her mind flooded with fantasies of eggs—a clutch glowing faintly with Void-veined emerald shells—her tail wrapped protectively around them as vines coiled overhead, forming a living nursery. She'd birthed before, long ago, but never like this. Never with this kind of certainty.
Lyanna gasped, her pupils narrowing into slits. She collapsed onto her side, her wings half-spread. Her heart thumped like a war drum. She could feel the new circuits forming in her mana pathways—a second heart, of sorts, one linked to Barbatos.
"ROOOAR—ROOOAR—ROOOAR!!!"
An earth-shaking, soul-rattling roar echoed across the skies like thunder tearing through mountains.
Black Dragon Lyanna let loose a monstrous cry—not of rage or agony, but of overwhelming, impossible power. It was low, guttural, and unnatural, echoing with an ancient resonance that hadn't been heard in centuries.
Her wide, brown eyes trembled with disbelief as she gazed at her body—no, her evolving form—which began to change before her very eyes. What was once a body measuring slightly over twenty meters—the typical size of an adult black dragon—was now rapidly surpassing those limits.
In the blink of an eye, her limbs thickened, her torso lengthened, and her wings spread wider than ever before. Twenty meters became twenty-four... then twenty-six… then twenty eight. Her frame expanded with terrifying elegance, as if something long dormant had awakened within her very essence and decided to overwrite her design.
It was as though an ancient code buried deep within her bloodline had been activated, unleashing a storm of physical and magical metamorphosis.
Within her immense body, cellular division accelerated to a speed unseen in natural creatures, even dragons. Her muscle fibers unraveled and reformed in thicker, denser patterns—layer upon layer of draconic might reweaving themselves like braided cords of steel. Old, damaged tissues—injuries from past battles she had long forgotten—were purged and replaced in mere seconds. Torn membranes, bruised sinew, and scarred scales were repaired and overwritten with perfect, rejuvenated flesh.
Every single bone was subtly reshaped, reinforced, and elongated with dense marrow-rich structures. Her metabolism skyrocketed, burning through mana like wildfire, fueling the reconstruction process with both arcane and biological fire.
Arcane runes shimmered faintly along her consciousness as her draconic heritage stirred violently, ancient bloodlines roaring to life. Lyanna wasn't just evolving—she was ascending. The very mana in her veins surged, not simply expanding her pool, but refining it, condensing it to the point that it burned like liquid starlight. The inherited will of countless ancestors, sealed deep within her soul, began to awaken, whispering forgotten truths in a tongue older than the world.
As her body transformed, her spirit aligned, becoming a purer vessel for ancient dragon magic. Her once-coarse magical affinity now spun with terrifying clarity, capable of absorbing and wielding arcane inheritance at an unprecedented rate.
She had stepped beyond the boundary of a typical Black Dragon.
Bone spurs exploded from her joints with thunderous cracks, jagged and blade-like—no longer the blunt protrusions of a common black dragon, but refined weapons, extensions of her wrath and strength. They gleamed like obsidian spears, infused with the essence of venom and decay.
Her head, once unmistakably skeletal in its design—the classic trait that earned Black Dragons the moniker Skull Dragons—began to shift. The cheekbones that once appeared hollow and gaunt filled out with new power. Muscle returned to her jawline, giving her a more imposing and regal structure. She looked less like a dying specter of death and more like a crowned queen of destruction.
Her iconic forward-pointing horns, a black dragon's unmistakable signature, not only grew longer and denser but were joined by a new pair—sweeping backward and upward in a majestic arc like a war crown. It was no longer a mere feature of her race.
Old, dull scales loosened and fell away like ashes in the wind. In their place grew a new armor of radiant obsidian, polished like volcanic glass and twice as durable. Each scale gleamed as though kissed by lightning, refracting ambient light with mesmerizing beauty. As they return to their original color. A dark, lustrous sheen coated her from head to tail, shimmering with the red undertones of molten fury. Her scales were no longer just tough—they were enchanted, responsive to the mana flow in her body, pulsing slightly with every breath she took.
And when she exhaled, the air itself grew thick with the scent of ozone and brimstone, as if she carried a storm in her lungs.
Even to a seasoned observer, Lyanna no longer looked like a typical black dragon. If someone had witnessed her in that moment, they might have mistaken her for a Red Dragoness hybrid, born of acid and fire. The sheer magnitude of her muscle density, the brilliant sheen of her enchanted dark scales, and the burning aura of magic surrounding her gave her the bearing of a creature reborn from both abyss and inferno.
Unable to hold back the exhilaration boiling within her, Lyanna tilted her massive head skyward and released a roar that cracked stone and shook the skies. The ground trembled. Birds scattered. Even the clouds above parted, unable to withstand the raw, primal force of her voice.
It wasn't just a roar of power.
It was the declaration of a new existence.
But just as she felt her strength crest to an uncontrollable peak, a massive claw shot through the veil of dust and light, grabbing hold of her and yanking her upward like a serpent dragged from the depths.
But it was far from over.
"Be quiet for a moment, Mother."
Barbatos's voice was low but firm, layered with authority that didn't tolerate her fun.
A moment later, the air trembled faintly as waves of invisible force rippled around them. He had just stimulated an immense surge of Void Essence through the Twisted Seed embedded in Lyanna's body—a dark crystalline core that served as the medium of transformation. It was one of the rarest and most dangerous abilities he had.
Under normal conditions, a gradual fusion of such essence would have been ideal. A slow integration allowed the host to adapt physically, mentally, and spiritually. It ensured that the body could harmonize with the alien power of the Void. But this—this was a controlled override of natural laws. Barbatos wasn't following the safe route. He was pushing it all at once.
This kind of rapid empowerment came with a price.
It would usually tear through the host's cellular structure, fracture the soul-thread that anchored the mind to the body, and overload the meridian paths that channeled energy. Without a steady influx of support—food, willpower, and constant regulation—it could lead to irreversible collapse. In ordinary creatures, this could result in reduced lifespan, crippled potential, or worse, spontaneous internal combustion from energy oversaturation.
But Barbatos was not ordinary.
He tapped into the Void Path—a spiritual bond that linked him to all living beings who carried even a fragment of his void essence. Through that network, he redirected his own energy, drawing upon thousands of times conduits to feed Lyanna's body through the seed. He poured it into her relentlessly, sacrificing his own cultivation stability to protect hers.
"Don't resist. Flow with it," he whispered through the link between them.
Lyanna—Black Dragoness of the Howling—was in shock. Her slit-pupil eyes widened in disbelief, her wings trembling as her body began to swell with heat. The very idea that her growth cycle could be altered so abruptly went against everything she knew as a True Dragon.
The life cycle of a dragon was rigid. Hatchling. Young. Adults. Ancient. Each step required centuries, wars, hoarding of treasure, meditation on the Primordial Wills of their bloodlines. To forcibly evolve a dragon? That was bordering on impossible in the eyes of many.
Yet here she was—changing, melting, reshaping.
Heteromorphic dragons truly are insane… she thought.
Her belly growled suddenly. Her instincts screamed for nourishment. A terrifying hunger gripped her. Her bones ached. Her blood boiled. It was as if every cell in her body had caught fire.
Then pain.
It came all at once. A stabbing pressure behind her eyes, then her claws, her tail, her fangs—all pulsing, reshaping.
"Agh!" she groaned, stumbling to the ground, claws digging into the stone beneath.
"I can make you strong," Barbatos said, his eyes glowing with rings of violet light, "but pain is a rite of passage. No power worth wielding comes without sacrifice."
Then he pressed his palm against the ground, and the Twisted Seed flared to life.
Lyanna clenched her teeth and nodded. "Do it. I'm not weak." Her voice was raspy, defiant, but her tail coiled tightly beneath her, betraying her fear.
Five minutes later, the worst of it passed. Barbatos finally withdrew the excess Void Essence, sealing the Twisted Seed with a silent command in her heart.
A radiant light unfolded around them—a Radiant Force Field, pure golden in color and exuding a warmth that counterbalanced the cold emptiness of the Void. This was not a power of destruction, but one of recovery and clarity. It was an evolved ability Barbatos had discovered not long ago, born of his mastery over the ability.
As the field enveloped Lyanna, she gasped. It felt good—soothing, even pleasurable. Her scales shimmered with a dark luster, her breath steadying.
A soft moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. "Mmm… what… is this?"
"Relief," Barbatos answered, looking away for her dignity's sake. "And a safeguard. That field restores damaged bloodlines, heals latent injuries, and harmonizes conflicting energies. Especially useful for dragons who've endured countless battles."
Lyanna's body gradually settled. She lay on her side, her chest rising and falling.
In her mind, a truth finally settled in: she has survived. She has evolved.
Her tail slowly swayed across the floor, brushing his foot.
Black Dragoness Lyanna felt that her body was particularly comfortable, and her spirit seemed to be happy, which made her involuntarily let out a comfortable sound.
At this time, she felt a sense of relief, which was also good.
Every true dragon has the hope of becoming an ancient true dragon of Legendary Power. However, most true dragons will experience a rapid decline in physical function during old age due to insufficient potential or hidden injuries from previous battles and struggles.
This situation will prevent them from becoming powerful ancient dragons, and their lives will be fixed in old age, ultimately resulting in a quiet demise as time flows away like water through their fingers.
This is also one of the reasons why ancient dragons are rare in the material worlds. Even though they are creatures of magic and might, and possessing a very long lifespan, they still won't reach legendary power.
The radiant force field can compensate for this situation, which is also what Barbatos discovered not long ago.
And Black Dragon Lyanna was silent when she looked at her former "child" in front of her…
She glanced at him silently. Barbatos—her own flesh and blood, and yet… something more. He was no longer a mere descendant. He was power incarnate. And strangely, she felt no fear. Only safety.
'What the hell is wrong with me… I actually feel safe?' she cursed herself.
Her claws curled with frustration, but she didn't dare act on it.
"Go out and replenish your energy," Barbatos said at last, turning to her. "But you are not to hunt freely in my territory. Inform the stewards—my servants will provide you with the best food we have, Mother."
His tone was calm, but resolute. He wasn't making a suggestion. He was setting down a law.
Chromatic Dragons—especially black ones—were notorious for treating everything as prey. Barbatos knew if Lyanna were left unchecked, she might revert to her instincts and start eating his subordinates.
But now… she was part of his domain. And his domain would have order.
Lyanna looked up at him and gave a powerful nod. "Yes."
Even if he hadn't reminded her, she had already decided to restrain herself. She was new here. And more importantly… she wasn't ready to challenge anyone here.
As she left, her thoughts drifted. Her body was still aching, but within that pain evolved potential. Real, tangible, unstoppable growth. She felt her bloodline surging with power—her senses sharper, her vision clearer, her magic capacity vastly expanded.
She was no longer just a black dragoness. She was evolving into something… legendary.