Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)-Chapter 438 438: The Dark Line

Third Person's POV
As the potion she didn't recognise coursed down her throat, a wave of gentle, revitalizing heat bloomed in her stomach and spread through her limbs and, most importantly, soothing the sharp, stinging ache between her legs.
Soon, the deep, throbbing soreness and waves of pain from her lower body began to lessen and were replaced by a comfortable warmth.
As the color returned to her cheeks and strength to her limbs, Ethan kept her close, his hand still a warm, possessive weight on her belly.
He lowered his head, and his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he finally answered her original question, his tone intimate and confessional.
"My name is not Eryndor... It is a name I use when I must hide. My true name is Ethan."
He paused, letting the truth settle into her heart.
"And the magic you saw... it is known as the Nether Dark Rites. It's a forbidden magic spell... taught to me by my master long ago."
He held her there and felt the delicate but fast flutter of her heartbeat against his palm, as he savoured the feel of her soft, white body pressed against his, a beautiful prize already marked by his desire.
As the last traces of pain receded from her pussy and her strength began to return, Lucy's mind, now clear, latched onto his earlier words.
Pondering upon them, an equal amount of surprise and curiosity bloomed within her in equal measure.
The surprise came from learning the fact that his true name was Ethan and not Eryndor.
In the intense, compressed span of the last three days, she realized she had never truly focused on his name as her awareness had been consumed by the overwhelming totality of his presence, his power, his actions, and the dark allure he wore like a second skin.
Her curiosity, however, was ignited by his casual mention of a 'master.'
Her thoughts that had been trained by a lifetime in the Empire of the Abyssal Dominion's shadow, began to race.
Ethan's master must be a figure of terrifying power, knowledge and an equally noble lineage, she couldn't help but reason.
Even within the highest, most secluded noble circles of the Empire, she had never heard whispers of dark magic so profound and so effortlessly wielded.
Ethan's magic seemed to speak of a lineage or knowledge far beyond her common understanding.
Her own family on the other hand was respected, but it still existed outside the revered and feared "dark line."
They were not true bearers of the foundational bloodline and the sacred dark blood that flowed only in the veins of the founding families, those who held the Marquis rank and above.
It was this purity of descent that rendered them near-mythical, untouchable figures to be admired from a distance but never approached.
Their society was impenetrable to outsiders, no foreigner could ever inherit a title above that of a Count and the idea of an equal marital union with them was pure fantasy.
While it was whispered that the men of the dark line sometimes took foreign women as captives, pleasure maids or lesser brides, those women never attained the status of the main wife, and their children were relegated to a permanent, third-class existence within the rigid hierarchy.
They were discriminated against and looked down upon but instead of defiance, they cowered and instead tried their hardest to find powerful masters and be their vassals as that would elevate their status and there was also the possibility that they could marry a pure noble girl belonging to the dark families
Suddenly, Ethan's warm and intrusive voice broke her reverie, his whisper a physical caress against the shell of her ear as his hand found the soft weight of her breast and squeezed them playfully.
"Ahn…!" she gasped as a short, flustered sound escaped her and her body arched slightly into his touch despite her wandering mind.
She tore her gaze from the middle distance to glare at him with annoyance coloring her features.
"It's nothing…" she muttered in a cute, gruff voice, though the possibility that now buzzed in her brain, that Ethan or his mysterious master was intrinsically linked to that hallowed, forbidden dark line.
Just the possibility of it being true, she couldn't help but feel a shivering thrill going through her that was entirely separate from his groping.
She had been hardwired from childhood to view such beings with a mix of terror and devout reverence and the thought that she could become the wife of such a figure was dangerously exciting to her innocent self.
Hearing her half-hearted answer and seeing her eyes already glazing over once more with daydreams, Ethan's lips curved into a knowing smile.
A mischievous idea took hold and in one fluid motion, he turned her around, his palm landing a stinging, complimentary slap on the round curve of her backside, releasing a sharp slapping sound.
"Pah~~"
"Kyaah~!"
She squealed in a high-pitched, girlish sound bursting forth from pure shock but he didn't give her a moment to recover and captured her lips in a deep, claiming kiss.
He cradled her face and his thumbs stroked her cheeks as she squirmed in his embrace, though her initial resistance soon melted within seconds into a soft, pliant surrender.
Her struggles ceased and her small white hands coming to rest helplessly against the hard, unyielding plane of his chest.
But when his hands slid down from her face to once more claim her full breasts, kneading them with deliberate pressure until her pink nipples pebbled tightly against his palms, and the hard, insistent length of his cock stirred and then standing proudly only to press against the smooth skin of her lower belly, her eyes flew wide open.
"Mmmph! H-hey…!"
She hurriedly tapped his chest and turned her face to free her lips from his with a wet, soft sound.
A blush painted her from cheeks to chest, but her expression was one of flustered reprimand.