Lire

  Reivan would have liked more time to think of a way to present the information in a better light, but Helen immediately found out about how many concubines he was going to have.

  Obviously, she was not too pleased to know there would be five hundred.

  "Why are there so many?" she grumbled while sitting up in their bed, her arms crossed. "Five hundred is too much..."

  "Well... It's presumably more efficient. This way, I can just have one baby with each woman instead of having two or three with every single one."

  Reivan chuckled sheepishly as he cradled a sleeping Arthur in his arms, trying very hard to sound as if he didn't want any of this. Of course, he didn't ask for any of this, and he would have been perfectly happy if Helen and Elsa were the only women he would ever have kids with.

  But he didn't hate the notion as much as he thought. Naturally, however, he would never say this out loud.

  “I suppose that makes sense…” Helen murmured in acknowledgment. “If you only had a hundred, you’d have to keep the concubines for five or so years before you have the same number of babies. Assuming they all get pregnant right after giving birth, which is a bit much…”

  “Yes. That’s right.” Reivan nodded vigorously, though he was careful not to wake his son. “See? We’re just being efficient.”

  “Then shouldn’t most of your concubines be warbeasts, then?” Helen’s brows furrowed. “You’ve told them the odds, right?”

  The "odds" his wife was talking about pertained to “The Law of Interspecies Procreation”, which was penned based on his words a few months ago. And by w, he didn’t mean a “rule” but a “natural fact”. Like gravity, thermodynamics, and the universal truth that the line next to you always moves faster when you're in a hurry.

  Anyway, the Law of Interspecies Procreation stated that when a couple of different humanoid races had a baby, there was a seventy percent chance that the baby would belong to the mother’s race and a thirty percent chance that it would be the father’s. There was a caveat where there was an incredibly small chance it would be a hybrid of both, but it was better to assume that such a thing wasn’t going to happen.

  Of course, the public records would mark this as a discovery made through data examination. Such a thing wouldn’t make sense if scrutinized, though. There simply weren’t enough cases to make a study of. But those in the know could infer that Reivan had a hand in it.

  After all, he had [Supreme Insight] and many people knew about it, even though it was technically a secret.

  ‘But I didn’t discover it through my ability…’

  Only Reivan knew, and he would take the secret to the grave along with the knowledge that he had reincarnated. The actual origin of his knowledge about interspecies procreation came from Zell, but nobody had to know about that.

  Thankfully, nobody doubted him when he bmed [Supreme Insight] for any knowledge he shouldn’t possess.

  In any case, the Law of Interspecies Procreation meant that if his mother wanted warbeast descendants—which she undoubtedly did, even if she didn’t mind human grandchildren—then it was better for Reivan to couple with other warbeasts.

  But even knowing this, his mother mostly prepared humans and Reivan didn’t stop her. There was actually a reason why she did that, and it wasn't a flimsy one either.

  “I did tell her.” Reivan nodded with a sigh. “But the majority of my concubines have to be humans, Helen.”

  Helen tilted her head with a frown, but her questioning gaze wasn’t out of frustration or anger. It was simply born of confusion. “Why? I thought the entire point of having concubines was to help restore your cn.”

  “Yes, that’s right. It’s also the only reason, truth be told.”

  “Then why? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, it’s somewhat complicated…” Reivan paced the room with his son still in his arms. From the baby’s breathing, he could tell Arthur wasn’t deeply asleep enough yet. “It’s a pretty boring reason.”

  Helen snorted. “I have to share my husband with five hundred women. The reason cannot be boring to me, Van.”

  “Right, I suppose so,” he said with a sheepish chuckle, as he thought about the best way to expin it. In his mind, it was good practice for the future. After all, he eventually had to expin to Arthur or his future children why they had five hundred siblings at least. “The reason there have to be more humans than warbeasts is we can’t show favoritism to warbeasts.”

  “Favoritism…? How would that be favoritism?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “No.” Helen raised a brow. “You aren’t taking in concubines because of your appetite for women. You’re doing it to help revive your bloodline. And given that interspecies thing, it makes sense to pick warbeasts as your concubines.”

  “It does make sense, yes.”

  “Then how is that favoritism when it’s the most logical option?”

  “My lovely wife…” Reivan patiently said with a smile. “You are very invested in this topic. But try to look at it from the perspective of someone who isn’t. Is it impossible for people to misconstrue it as favoritism for warbeasts?”

  Helen frowned, her gaze lowering as she sunk into thought. “Well, no…”

  “Exactly.” He nodded, heaving a deep sigh after. “And if there’s a risk, then the crown can’t take it.”

  She obviously didn’t like that, but what was he supposed to do about it?

  The royal family were like gods within the kingdom. They were respected and revered; their words were synonymous with the w. For the common man, the crown could do no wrong. More than three thousand years of benevolence and prosperity under their rule had understandably inspired a positive reputation that was virtually unshakeable.

  And it was because of that reputation that they couldn’t do wrong.

  In a way, it was like a shackle. Which was funny to think about, considering how powerful the king’s authority was. Mundane people, though powerless, actually restricted the only family that could command the nation’s strongest entities: knights.

  Objectively, knights were terrifyingly strong beings who could annihite the rest of the nation on their own. And each and every single one answered only to the king. Few knew it, but they also couldn’t disobey the king either. Even if the orders were to sy their own family, they would be forced to do it because that was what their oaths entailed.

  Despite this, the crown and the royal family were weighed down by the allegedly powerless people.

  Every Aizenian was born into a tiny corner of the world where they could happily live their lives as long as it was under the control of the royal family. At any time and for whatever reason, their lives could be ruined. And the worst part was how they could do nothing.

  It was like a cage.

  And throughout the ages, the royal family knew that Aizen was exactly that.

  But if a cage was rge enough, would it even feel like a cage? If it was comfortable inside and there were all sorts of nice people to get along with, would it even be a bad thing?

  The answer to that could be seen in Aizen’s history.

  Even today, more than three thousand years after the kingdom’s founding, the royal family is still revered and respected. They had, continuously, succeeded in making the cage so comfortable that everyone inside it didn’t even feel they were in a cage. The people even helped the crown maintain the enclosure.

  Part of that was because the royal family strove to live up to expectations and took care in managing their reputation. They had to maintain the illusion of freedom.

  ‘How annoying…’

  Reivan supposed this was the dark side of being such a public figure. It was hard to make purely selfish life decisions. Every single choice had to take into consideration how it would make him look to the public at rge or how it would affect the crown’s prestige.

  “I understand that you don’t want people to think it’s favoritism,” Helen slowly said, leaning back into a more comfortable position as she watched him cradle their son. “But would it really be that big of a deal?”

  “Yes, it would.” Reivan nodded. “You underestimate just how desirable I am to the common citizen of Aizen.”

  Which made sense, because Helen grew up friends with a royal on top of having a close elder cousin who actually got married to one.

  “I don’t underestimate that at all,” Helen snapped, clearly offended. “You’re hard-working when you’re motivated. You’re good at taking care of people, too. You’re not too arrogant, and you’re handsome as well, I suppose. And though I didn’t know it until much ter, you’re good in bed too.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her reaction, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I think you misunderstood what I said, so let me rephrase. A prince is a very desirable spouse from the perspective of a normal Aizenian woman.”

  It was not that he, personally, was desirable. Of course, he was confident that he had a number of redeeming qualities, but the average woman wouldn’t see that until ter on, the same way the average man focused on a woman’s appearance at the start.

  First and foremost, he was a prince.

  And that was it. That was the extent of who he was.

  In most people’s eyes, being a prince was his entire identity. The sum of who he was. And in a nation where the royal family was so revered, however, one could understand how the identity would cause his desirability to skyrocket.

  Of course, the women who were actually chosen as his concubines weren’t like that, because they came from families who thought about the implications a bit more. But the average person was very different.

  To them, becoming the concubine of a prince was a privilege. An honor that they could boast about.

  Apparently, it wasn’t even a turn-off that the women would just be concubines, and hence weren’t true wives. It would have been a shameful thing to become a fellow commoner’s concubine, but a prince? Not in the slightest.

  Especially since members of the royal family rarely took any. In fact, one would be hard-pressed to find historical examples of such. Which arguably made the opportunity even more valuable.

  And as such, the possibility that people would resent warbeasts for monopolizing the opportunity was very real.

  There were three outcomes if Reivan selected only warbeasts as his concubines.

  One, was the fairy tale route of everybody being happy and nothing going wrong.

  Two, the people would misconstrue it as favoritism by the royal family, hidden behind the unconfirmed Law of Interspecies Procreation.

  Three, which was the most likely, was that Aizen’s people would see the favoritism and direct their displeasure toward warbeasts instead.

  As previously mentioned, the royal family’s reputation was immacute, so the general popuce was less inclined to fault them for anything. In this case, however, there was another side to bme. So why would they point their barbs at the crown?

  The warbeasts would be the target of resentment.

  Especially since in recent times, the royal family took one in as a wife. Then, a few decades ter, a pair of sisters were adopted.

  Vianna’s love story was still seen as a gripping tale, but that was back when there was a grand total of two warbeasts in Aizen, namely her and Viktor. In a way, they were still seen as guests or pitifully lonely beings.

  Now, there were a lot more warbeasts.

  And they were working hard to integrate into Aizen, with the crown taking steps to help settle them in. Reivan’s choice of concubines risked ruining that, if not handled correctly.

  “Also,” Reivan chuckled. “Mother actually wanted human grandchildren as well. She told me to treat them all equally. The nerve of her, honestly...”

  He had grown up with very strong familial values and his mother expected him to raise his children in the same way—which he fully intended to do from the outset, even without anyone telling him to.

  In any case, there would be a bunch of human and warbeast children, sharing a father as they’re raised to cherish each other as siblings. Ideally, they would grow into people who understood both races and become paragons of harmony between humans and warbeasts.

  Reivan thought his mother was a bit optimistic, but he didn’t hate it. He saw her vision too and he wanted it just as much as she did.

  Additionally, there was the possibility that Reivan’s bloodline would return to the Eastern Continent and recim what his mother’s generation lost. At that time, his grown-up warbeast children would likely settle there.

  If they did, then wouldn’t it be for the best to have human retives back in Aizen who could speak for their interests? Reivan didn’t want to depend on his ties to the crown forever. Eventually, he and his progeny would have to break away and be their own thing.

  ‘That’s so far into the future though…’

  Since Arthur’s birth, Reivan realized that he’d been thinking of the future a lot more. And it wasn’t just the near future of a year or two. Sometimes, his musings would take him ten or twenty years forward, to a time when Arthur was getting married or having children of his own.

  Reivan knew that he was definitely going too far, but he couldn’t help it. He was just so excited about all of this. Scared, too, but he was comfortable with fear. Though it was his first time being one, he was determined to be a good father to this little boy who had a surprisingly tight grip.

  ‘Mother said I had a tight grip, too, back then. Strange, since I don’t remember doing that.’

  After understanding the thoughts behind his concubine choices, Helen sighed in exasperation. “Being royalty seems like such a pain. I'm gd you weren't the first prince...”

  “Right?” Reivan chuckled softly, not too loud so as not to disturb Arthur. “It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Luckily, we’re not royalty anymore… is what I would like to say if we actually weren’t.”

  She smirked a little as she finally y down. “It seems the Hierarch of Samsara forgets his own position sometimes.”

  “Well, that’s because I don’t pn to stay that way for too long,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Once this pce is set, I swear I’ll find someone to foist the nation on. Then you, me, and Arthur can live happily in some mansion in Northgard.”

  “It's a little too cold there for my tastes.”

  “But that’s the best part...”

  Helen snorted. “Isn’t the capital perfect? We can visit retives easily.”

  Reivan rolled his eyes. “Helen, by that time, we’re probably Ascendants already. The distance of our home will be irrelevant. Just think, won’t it be nice to have tall mountains in the distance to greet us every morning? Doesn’t that sound rexing? Therapeutic, even.”

  “There’s a mountain in the capital too. It’s the biggest one.”

  “It’s not the same vibe… When I look at the Sword Sanctum, I think of training and Sir Donovan.”

  Helen grimaced. “Hm. Good point. What about Anderharbor?”

  “North or South?”

  “South.”

  “Meh.” Reivan shrugged. “Their food is terrible. Nothing I’ve sampled from there has been good.”

  Helen bolted upright with a frown. “That is not true, and you know it.”

  They argued a bit about how Reivan was too picky and how he’d grown too used to high cuisine, but eventually, they settled on Lightharbor City as their future permanent residence. It was on the eastern shores and had a lot of scenic spots to build a mansion on, plus both of them agreed that the food from there was spectacur.

  And it didn’t end there. For a while, Reivan talked—argued, even—with his wife about futures far and near while smiling widely.

  Once his son's breathing turned rhythmic, Reivan knew that Arthur had fallen into a very deep sleep. It was almost as if his quiet argume—erm, discussions with Helen served as a kind of lulby. Really, this boy of his could sleep through any conversation. In fact, he didn't seem to mind when people around him were being noisy.

  Maybe he would grow up patient, who knew? With five hundred and one younger siblings at least, he would need buckets of patience, so that was good.

  "There we go, Arthur..." Carefully, he pced his most precious treasure into the crib right next to their bed.

  They could have had Arthur sleep in another room with a dedicated set of maids to handle all of his needs, but he and Helen decided to do as much of the child-rearing on their own. Since the two of them were likely going to be Ascendants one day, opportunities to raise a child were rare in the grand scheme of their lives.

  As such, they didn't want to regret not having experienced it at all. Plenty of Ascendant acquaintances advised them as such, too. There might be difficulties now, but they'd look back on this time and smile a few hundred years down the line.

  Of course, if they did have maids and servants ready to help. But the two of them were going to avoid depending on others as much as possible. Hence, why Arthur was sleeping so close to their bed.

  There were, of course, some inconveniences.

  Such as Arthur's poo stinking up the pce. But Helen could easily filter the smell out with a wave of her hand, courtesy of having such proficient control of air. Their son's presence in the room also made Helen more guarded about engaging in intimacy, since it was apparently very embarrassing to be moaning or gasping while their son was literally right there.

  To his son's credit, the little tyke never did wake up screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night. Or rather, the boy rarely cried at all.

  Once Arthur fell into a deep sleep, he would stay asleep for most of the day. Absolutely nothing would wake the boy up. One time, Reivan had pushed Helen to make all sorts of noises just to test this, too. And even when he awoke hungry, he didn't announce it by crying—which was, according to some maids who were also mothers, probably because the baby learned that he would be fed shortly after waking up anyway.

  As a prince's son and one born to a supernaturally perceptive set of parents, the uncomfortable parts of Arthur's life never sted long.

  Wake up hungry, and a moment ter, he would be embraced by his mother's familiar warmth and her teat would be shoved into his mouth. If he shat his loins, it wouldn't be long until Reivan, Helen, or a maid would come to clean him too. Sickness was but a dream with the Saintess' remnant energy still flowing around in his body and he was apparently a very healthy baby besides.

  The temperature within the pace was hyperreguted, his crib was made of the best child-friendly materials to ensure safety and comfort, and his clothes were of pinnacle quality, so there would be no discomfort to be found there either.

  Thinking about it that way, it was no wonder Arthur didn't cry very often. He did make all sorts of baby noises, though, which was immensely adorable and Reivan could write pages upon pages of essays on why.

  Arthur had few reasons to cry, and Reivan's stubble was one of them. Which was why he was shaving every single day now. He didn't want Arthur to hate him, after all.

  'Man, life is great...'

  The times when he suddenly had to stop what he was doing to bask in how happy he was these days were increasing more and more.

  He had a cute son and a beautiful wife, who he was going to embrace after slipping into bed. His family was all around great too, and he had a good friend in Hector to share the joys of fatherhood with. Wonderful and capable subordinates were just the cherry on top.

  If only he didn’t have enemies, too. It would have been perfect.

  “Hey, Van?”

  Reivan slipped under the covers where his wife was hiding her soft and supple body from his embrace, which he quickly proved a futile endeavor. “What is it?”

  Helen eased into his arms, her breathing growing softer. “Even if you have hundreds of lovers and children, don’t forget about me and Arthur.”

  He scoffed. “Don’t be silly. Of course, I won’t.”

  “Even if some of them are prettier than I am?”

  “Nobody is prettier than you are,” he insisted, though there were a few equals in his mind.

  Helen giggled softly into the night. And it didn’t take long for the two to follow their son into the nd of dreams.

  The following week, Reivan spent from morning to dusk meeting with each of his concubines. The human ones, at least, because he didn’t have time for the warbeast ones yet.

  Reivan prioritized those he’d already met long ago, back during the first selection of candidates. Rather than a meeting, it was a form of follow-up to assure that things were still progressing the way they initially pnned. And also to catch up with them after such a long time of no correspondence.

  All of them were affable and were very concerned with what he was up to at the moment. He also enjoyed talking with them in general because of how enthusiastic they were to share their own experiences. One of the dies even mentioned that she had been knighted in the time they hadn’t met and hesitantly asked for permission to continue after she had birthed a child for him.

  Naturally, he gave her his blessings.

  Even the new ones were pleasant, if not a bit nervous to meet him for the first time. But nonetheless, they answered his questions well, and none of them seemed disagreeable. Everyone was sweet, in fact, which really drove home the point that he should treat them fairly in the future.

  And for that, he would have to manage his time extremely well. Otherwise, he’d end up neglecting some of them.

  ‘Now it’s time to meet with the warbeast concubines…’

  “I’m meeting them all at once…?” Reivan asked his mother, a bit bemused. “Isn’t that a bit… rude?”

  It wasn’t as if he was just hanging out or going on a group picnic. These women were going to have his children and he was meeting them for the first time today. A somewhat private setting would have been par for the course.

  Vianna nodded as she walked with her arm hooked around her son’s. “Don’t worry. I think it’s rude too.”

  “Humans make too big of a deal about it.” Viktor shook his head, walking a bit behind them as their official guard. “A capable man taking many women as his wives is not so uncommon in warbeast culture. And lest you forget, most of the Terracatta Cn grew up in the Eastern Continent. They still retain much of the thought process from over there, unlike your mother, who became an amalgamation.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing,” she said while snapping her folding fan open to conceal her sneer. “I tried to truly integrate into Aizen, brother. And so many good things have come of that, if you remember. Reivan and Arthur are just some of them.”

  “Don’t use the kids to win arguments…” Viktor murmured resentfully. "It's unfair. What can I even say against that...?"

  Reivan sighed at his two elder retives. “Please stop arguing again. Today is about me, remember? Me and my five hundred concubines. And I still bme both of you for that absurd number.”

  “Like I said, they’re used to this,” Viktor grunted as he btantly ignored Reivan's barbed compint. “They’ll know how to act. And your mother likely warned them about some things when she was picking through them. She sifted through the batch quite thoroughly over the months you were away, so all the bad seeds are likely gone.”

  “Hmph.” Vianna raised her chin. “Of course. I’m already troubling my son with this whole affair, so I have to minimize his inconveniences.”

  Reivan knew his mother had been personally handling these matters the whole time, but he just thought it was because she was nosy. He didn’t know it was for that. “Thank you, Mother.”

  “No need for that. I’m just doing what I have to because my son’s too soft on women. He keeps doing things for his selfish mother, for one thing.”

  “Maybe that’s because his mother’s a big softy too,” Reivan quipped with a childish grin. “The apple doesn’t fall far, hm?”

  She rolled her eyes, but failed to conceal her grin. “Maybe.”

  Eventually, they made it to their destination, which was a small reception hall within the royal pace. Inside, more than a hundred young women were seated in a semicircle around a set of seats meant for Reivan and Vianna.

  ‘They really spruced themselves up.’

  All of the women were warbeasts of the Terracatta cn, so they all had signature brown hair to complement their race’s golden eyes. They were also wearing what were undoubtedly kimonos of varying colors and patterns. They were a bit different than the one he remembered, however. The sleeves were a lot longer, to the extent where they trailed on the floor and made him wonder how they were going to use their hands. Strangely, they were barefoot too, instead of wearing getas or something.

  They undoubtedly looked good, however.

  His uncle whistled as he elbowed Reivan. “Lucky you, eh?”

  “Stop being so crass, it’s not like they can’t hear you from here,” Vianna scolded with a frown before turning to the small crowd with a smile. “Greetings, everyone. I’m gd all of you could make it.”

  She then turned ever so slightly toward Reivan, which he took as the cue for him to start talking.

  “Hello, everyone,” he greeted with the pleasant smile trained into him from childhood. “Few people can walk arm in arm with the former queen, so I’m sure you know who I am by now. But for those who don’t, I am Reivan Aizenwald. And with your cooperation, I will also have the good fortune of calling myself your husband.”

  Reivan bowed a little, and when his head rose, he found very heated gazes thrown his way. Their facial expressions hadn’t changed from the feminine smiles he’d seen when he walked into the hall, but a warbeast’s eyes spoke words faster than a tongue ever could.

  Suddenly, Reivan realized that the dynamics of his retionship with these women might not be as he’d initially thought.

  When one saw a harem, it was normal to think the man had all the power.

  But as Reivan stood there, surrounded by women he supposedly had dominance over, he felt like a lone wolf encircled by a horde of hungry tigers.

  AnnouncementChapter Word Count: 4554Last Edited: May 01, 2025