Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!-Chapter 401: Uneven Ranks

Pyris was bold, but more than that—he was intentional. Every movement, every word, every lingering glance had a purpose. And as he stood before Ambrosia, the untouchable, the woman no man dared to claim, he let her feel it.

"Ambrosia," he murmured again, her name slipping from his lips like a promise. He still held her hand in his, his thumb tracing the faintest circle against her skin—a touch so subtle, so daring, that it could be dismissed as nothing. Or everything.

She arched a delicate brow, her amusement unwavering. "You're playing dangerously for a character such as yourself, Pyris. It's dangerous if you're targeting me, you see."

His lips curled. "Good. I'd hate to be bored."

The way she watched him, sharp and assessing, told him she wasn't so easily swayed. She wasn't some young noblewoman giggling over empty flattery. Ambrosia was powerful. Cunning fox. Untouchable Empress.

But he had never been one to follow rules or be afraid of a challenge mostly if that challenge was a beautiful woman such as empress!

"You seem lonely," he said suddenly, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel more like an observation than an insult. "A woman of your stature, of your beauty—yet no man stands at your side."

A lesser woman might have bristled. Ambrosia only laughed, a low, velvety sound that curled around him like silk. "And you think I need one?"

"No." He tilted his head slightly, watching her with interest. "But you deserve one."

That flicker of amusement remained, but he caught something else beneath it—just a hint of intrigue, a shift so small most wouldn't have noticed.

"You presume to know what I deserve?"

"I know exactly what you deserve." He took a step closer, not invading her space—not quite—but close enough that she could feel his presence. "A woman like you should know the warmth of a man's touch. Should know what it means to be truly wanted—not for power, not for status, but for who you are."

Her expression remained composed, unreadable. But Pyris wasn't discouraged. No, this was what made it fun.

"I think you've been missing out, Ambrosia," he continued, his voice as smooth as aged wine. "A life without passion? Without fire? What a tragedy."

Her lips quirked again, this time more thoughtful. "And you would offer me this fire?"

His smirk deepened. "I'd be willing to let you taste it."

For the first time, she seemed to truly consider him. It was fleeting, a moment's hesitation, but Pyris knew how to spot an opening when he saw one.

"I have lived centuries without needing a man, so far!" she pointed out, tilting her head.

"Then perhaps it's time you wanted one," Pyris countered, his gaze unwavering. "I wouldn't ask you to need me, Ambrosia. But if I have my way…" He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice to something just for her. "You'll crave me."

The air between them shifted.

She hadn't expected that. He could see it in her eyes, the way they flickered with something unreadable. The way she let the silence stretch, as if deciding whether or not to entertain him further.

Then, finally, she exhaled a soft chuckle.

"You're trouble, Pyris."

"Only the best kind."

And the worst part? fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

She knew he was right.

Pyris moved like he owned the room—not with arrogance, but with a confidence so absolute that it made even the highest-ranked nobles and royals pause. It was the kind of presence that couldn't be taught, couldn't be mimicked. It had to be lived.

And right now, he was living it.

The hall was quiet, not because anyone demanded silence, but because they were watching.

Pyris weaved through the ranks of power, greeting leader after leader, but it became obvious to anyone paying attention that his true interest lay elsewhere.

The women. Not the leaders but only the female leaders and that didn't matter if they had their spouse besides them like the Elf Empress, Pyris would still make him move and be shameless confident about it. Finding a fitting reason to it.

His touch lingered just a second longer when he kissed their hands, his voice dipped lower when he whispered his greetings, his eyes held theirs with a depth that suggested things they shouldn't be thinking about.

Yet, they did.

The men at the table remained composed—outwardly. Their shoulders stiffened, their fingers twitched, and their eyes burned with quiet discontent. But they weren't foolish. Not a single one of them dared to call him out.

Because Pyris wasn't just any high noble.

He was the heir of the oldest dragon lineage—the highest dragon bloodline. He wasn't royalty, but not even royalty carried the same weight as his presence.

And he knew it.

And no one seemed to cause a commotion on something as petty as a "casual" greeting. The entire Mortal Realm was watching. Who would be willing to become a comical relief?

Even the ones who couldn't hear the words exchanged between Pyris and the powerful women could feel the shift in the air. He wasn't just exchanging pleasantries—he was making an impression.

A deep one.

_____

The twins, sitting far from the table, had been watching the whole thing unfold with growing disbelief. With their affinity to space and time, even from their distant seats, they had heard everything. And they had nearly gasped.

They had known him from the academy. Shared a few words, acknowledged him as a peer.

But this?

This was audacity. Shamelessness!

And the craziest part?

He kept changing. Every time they saw him—even from afar—he seemed different. Stronger. More dangerous. More… something. But more shameless and daring than ever!

Then, as if he knew they had been listening, Pyris had flicked his gaze in their direction.

And smirked.

The kind of smirk that sent an ominous chill down their spines. The kind of smirk that carried a message—a silent, unholy promise.

If you're not careful helping your father…

I might just become your Daddy.

Of course, the oblivious twins had no way of understanding such a thing.

But that didn't stop their instincts from screaming at them.

The twins exchanged uneasy glances, their golden eyes narrowing as they tried to peer into the force surrounding Pyris. It should have been easy—effortless, even. Their abilities had never failed them before.

They could unravel the secrets of the most powerful figures in existence. They had seen the very foundation of power that built the leaders of empires. Even the Chaos Demon of Beginning, though terrifying, did not repel their vision.

But Pyris?

The moment their sight attempted to break past the veil around him—

Something pushed back.

No—rebounded.