CHAPTER 58: PROVING THE MORTAL KING (18+)

Arthur awoke to pain—real, unfiltered, and sharp. His body ached in ways he hadn’t felt since before the System: every bruise, every burn, every torn muscle a reminder that he was, for now, only human.

The medical wing was dim, the air thick with the scent of herbs and sweat. Sunlight slanted through high windows, painting the stone floor in gold.

He tried to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed him back. "Easy, my king," came a soft voice. Kaela, the half-elf healer, hovered at his side, her silver hair falling in a curtain as she checked his bandages. Her touch was gentle, but her eyes were sharp, curious, and a little hungry.

On his other side, Mira, the orc-blooded shieldmaiden, watched with arms crossed, her greenish skin gleaming in the light. She was tall, broad-shouldered, and radiated a restless energy. "He’s awake," she rumbled, a grin tugging at her lips. "About time."

Arthur managed a weak smile. "Didn’t want to miss the fun."

Kaela’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. "You’re lucky to be alive. The whole city saw what happened."

Before Arthur could answer, the door slammed open. Urzara strode in, her presence filling the room like a storm. She wore only a loose tunic, her powerful frame tense, eyes burning with frustration and something deeper—need, anger, fear. The orc queen’s usual aura of supernatural dominance was gone, but her raw physicality remained.

She glared at the two maidens. "Out. I need to speak to him. Alone."

Kaela hesitated, but Mira squared her shoulders, defiant. "He’s not dead, Urzara. He needs care."

Urzara’s lips curled in a snarl. "He needs to prove he’s still worthy. That’s care enough."

Arthur forced himself upright, pain lancing through his chest. "Let them stay," he rasped, surprising himself. "If I’m to prove anything, let it be witnessed."

Urzara’s eyes narrowed, but a slow, dangerous smile spread across her face. "So be it."

She crossed the room in two strides, grabbing Arthur by the jaw and crushing her mouth to his.

The kiss was brutal, teeth clashing, tongues warring for dominance. Arthur’s hands found her hips, fingers digging into muscle, pulling her closer. She straddled him on the cot, grinding down, her heat and weight pinning him in place.

"You’re weaker," she growled against his lips, breath hot. "I can feel it. No more magic. No more tricks. Just you and me."

Arthur’s answer was a snarl of his own. He twisted, rolling her beneath him, ignoring the agony in his ribs. Urzara laughed, low and wild, and raked her nails down his back, drawing blood. The pain was sharp, real, grounding.

Kaela gasped, but didn’t look away. Mira’s eyes gleamed, nostrils flaring as she watched the struggle.

Urzara’s tunic was gone in a heartbeat, her body a landscape of scars and muscle. Arthur’s hands roamed her, memorizing every inch, every imperfection. She bit his shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and he answered with a hand tangled in her hair, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Still your king?" he demanded, voice hoarse.

She grinned. "Prove it."

He did.

Their bodies crashed together, sweat and blood mingling, the cot creaking beneath their violence.

Arthur’s thrusts were desperate, each one a challenge, a promise, a plea. Urzara met him with equal ferocity, her legs locking around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper, harder.

Kaela, trembling, stepped closer. Her healer’s hands slid over Arthur’s shoulders, soothing the worst of his wounds even as he fucked Urzara with reckless abandon. Her lips brushed his ear, whispering encouragement, her breath sweet and cool against his fevered skin.

Mira, unable to resist, shed her own tunic and knelt beside the cot. She seized Arthur’s hand, guiding it to her breast, her own need raw and urgent. "Show us, king," she challenged, voice thick with arousal. "Show us you’re still worthy."

Arthur, caught between pain and pleasure, let instinct take over. He claimed Mira’s mouth with his own, tasting her hunger, even as his hips pistoned into Urzara. Kaela’s hands roamed lower, stroking his thighs, her lips finding the hollow of his throat.

Urzara’s nails raked his chest, drawing fresh blood. She arched beneath him, her cries echoing off stone walls, her body shuddering as she came—hard, violent, her strength nearly buckling the cot.

Arthur didn’t stop. He turned, pulling Mira onto the bed, his mouth devouring hers, his hands rough and demanding.

Kaela slipped between them, her touch gentle but insistent, guiding Arthur’s cock to her own slick entrance.

She gasped as he entered her, her body trembling, her pleasure a soft, keening counterpoint to Urzara’s guttural moans.

Mira straddled Arthur’s face, her thighs strong and unyielding. He licked and sucked, tasting her, driving her wild. She rode his mouth with abandon, her hands tangled in his hair, her cries a challenge to Urzara’s dominance.

The room became a tangle of limbs, sweat, and desperate need. Arthur moved from one woman to the next, each claiming him in turn, each testing his limits, each finding him more than equal to the task.

There was no magic, no supernatural stamina—just raw will, pain, and the need to prove, to survive, to connect.

Kaela’s breath was shaky as she knelt beside Arthur, her healer’s hands trembling not from fear, but anticipation.

She watched as Arthur, still buried deep in Urzara, reached for her, his fingers curling around her wrist and pulling her closer. Her lips parted, and she let herself be guided, straddling his thigh, her dress riding up to her hips.

Arthur’s hand slid up her leg, finding the heat between her thighs. Kaela gasped, her body already slick, her need undeniable. She pressed herself against his hand, grinding shamelessly, her breath coming in soft, desperate whimpers.

Arthur’s fingers slipped inside her, two at first, then three, stretching her, filling her, his thumb circling her clit in slow, relentless circles.

Kaela’s head fell back, silver hair spilling over her shoulders. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking, "I need—"

Arthur’s mouth found her breast, lips closing around a taut nipple, sucking hard. Kaela cried out, her hips bucking against his hand, her body trembling as pleasure built, sharp and overwhelming.

She clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, her moans growing louder as he worked her, relentless and skilled.

Mira, meanwhile, was anything but gentle. She shoved Kaela aside, her own need fierce and impatient.

She grabbed Arthur by the hair, forcing his mouth to hers, kissing him with bruising force. Her other hand found his cock, slick with Kaela’s arousal and his own, and guided it to her entrance.

She didn’t wait for permission. Mira impaled herself on him in one swift, brutal motion, her body taking him to the hilt.

She threw her head back, a guttural moan tearing from her throat, her hips grinding down, taking control. Arthur groaned, his hands gripping her waist, letting her ride him hard and fast.

Mira’s breasts bounced with each thrust, sweat gleaming on her greenish skin. She leaned forward, biting Arthur’s shoulder, marking him as hers. "Harder," she demanded, her voice a growl. "Show me you’re not broken."

Arthur answered with action, bucking his hips up to meet her, matching her pace, his hands moving to her ass, squeezing, guiding her movements.

Mira’s eyes rolled back, her body shuddering as she came, her inner walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.

Kaela, not to be outdone, slid down between Arthur’s legs, her mouth finding his balls, her tongue lapping at the sensitive skin, her hands stroking his thighs.

She looked up at him, eyes wide and hungry, and took him into her mouth as soon as Mira lifted herself off, sucking him deep, her throat relaxing to take him all the way.

Arthur’s hand tangled in her hair, guiding her, his hips thrusting gently as Kaela worked him with her mouth and tongue, her moans vibrating around his cock.

Mira, still breathless, leaned down to kiss Kaela, tasting Arthur on her lips, their tongues tangling as they shared him.

Urzara, watching, growled her approval, her own hand between her legs, fingers working furiously as she watched her king be worshipped by two eager maidens.

She crawled up behind Kaela, her hands sliding under the half-elf’s dress, fingers finding her soaked pussy and thrusting inside, making Kaela moan even louder around Arthur’s cock.

The room was filled with the sounds of flesh on flesh, gasps, cries, and the wet, obscene noises of mouths and bodies in motion. Arthur, overwhelmed by sensation, let go, his climax hitting him hard, his cock pulsing in Kaela’s mouth as she swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving his.

Mira, still hungry, climbed back onto Arthur, grinding against his spent cock, coaxing him back to hardness with her body and her words. "Again," she demanded, her voice rough. "I want to feel you break me."

Kaela, emboldened, kissed Mira deeply, their bodies pressed together, hands roaming, exploring, sharing Arthur between them.

Urzara joined them, her strength and dominance returning as she took control, positioning the maidens, guiding Arthur’s hands and mouth, orchestrating their pleasure.

Together, the four of them lost themselves in each other, bodies tangled, sweat and desire mingling, the boundaries between king and servant, queen and maiden, dissolving in the heat of their need.

When it was over, they lay together in a heap, bruised, marked, utterly spent. There was no magic, no supernatural bond—just the raw, undeniable proof that Arthur was still their king, and they were his, in every way that mattered.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing.

Then Urzara, voice softer than he’d ever heard, whispered, "Still my king."

Kaela pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Still our king."

Mira grinned, fierce and proud. "And now, ours as well."

Arthur, battered and mortal, smiled through the pain. For the first time since the System’s silence, he felt truly alive.

The door creaked open. Isolde stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, lips parted in shock as she took in the tangle of bodies, the scent of sex heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.

"Arthur?" she whispered, voice trembling with something between heartbreak and fury.