The two were practically inseparable for an entire week.
From the mont their wedding night began, Riley made it his personal mission to cherish his new wife in every way a man could.
For seven days and seven nights, he was tireless—unyielding even—pouring all of his passion, strength, and affection into Iris.
Riley’s pride as a man fueled him; his ego wouldn’t allow him to stop until Iris was trembling, breathless, and completely undone beneath him.
Every session ended only when she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and satisfied, her mind hazy with pleasure.
And every ti she woke up in his arms, he would kiss her softly... only to start again.
Iris loved every second of it.
She had pursued Riley and now she finally had him as her husband.
This week felt like a dream she never wanted to wake from.
Every whisper, every embrace, every kiss reminded her that she had not been wrong in choosing Riley as a partner.
She was his wife. His chosen one.
By the ti that exhausting, blissful week passed, Iris felt a change within her body. A warmth.
A flutter. A quiet certainty. Life had already begun to sprout in her belly.
She was unmistakably, thoroughly pregnant—a result of Riley’s relentless affection and the universe’s quiet blessing on their union.
When she confird it, she couldn’t help but press her hands over her abdon and smile with tears in her eyes.
When the ti finally ca for her to et Riley’s harem, Iris surprised even herself with how naturally everything flowed.
She expected rivalry or awkwardness, but what she received instead was acceptance. Respect.
Even admiration.
Her cultivation base, the highest among them, naturally commanded authority.
The mont she stepped into the room, the others felt her presence—calm, composed, powerful—and bowed politely.
There was no trace of hostility.
They welcod her warmly, speaking to her with sincerity and even a hint of relief that soone of her strength and maturity would be joining their shared household.
Iris, for her part, greeted each woman kindly.
She made no effort to flaunt her new position as Riley’s first wife nor her strength; she simply showed them the grace befitting soone of her level.
Her poise impressed them instantly, and within minutes, the tension lted away.
Soon, laughter, introductions, and gentle chatter filled the room. Iris found herself fitting in easily—far easier than she had imagined.
And as Riley watched from the side, he couldn’t help but feel proud.
His wives were getting along, and Iris—his Iris—was already making her place not only in his ho but in the hearts of the won who shared his life.
***
One peaceful year flowed by, and in that ti Iris blossod beautifully as an expecting mother.
When the long-awaited day finally arrived, she endured the labor with grace befitting a peak cultivator, and at dawn she brought a healthy baby girl into the world.
Iris held her close, tears trembling in her eyes as she whispered the na she had chosen months ago—Karina.
The mont Karina’s first cry echoed across the city, the heavens themselves responded.
A pillar of gentle golden light descended, illuminating Rice City from above.
Spiritual energy swirled like flowing ribbons in the sky, and celestial symbols appeared faintly in the clouds—dragons, phoenixes, lotus blooms—markings that ancient scholars recognized as auspicious ons.
Cultivators throughout the city paused mid-ditation, eyes opening in shock as they felt the surge of divine qi.
Even beasts in the surrounding mountains howled or knelt instinctively, sensing the birth of soone destined for a powerful future.
The city erupted. Bells rang. Families lit candles and decorated their doorways.
Vendors gave out free food to strangers, and children ran through the streets shouting that a blessed child had been born.
Rice City had always been lively, but that day it felt like the ho of a festival blessed by the heavens themselves.
Riley rely chuckled when he heard all the commotion outside.
To him, all these signs were expected. With the blood of his lineage—one feared and admired across the immortal realm—combined with Iris, a peak cultivator whose presence alone could suppress sect masters, how could their child be anything less than extraordinary?
Karina’s destiny was not surprising to him. It was simply natural.
Inside their ho, Iris cradled Karina with pride glowing in her eyes.
Riley stood beside her, one hand gently stroking the soft hair of his newborn daughter while the other wrapped protectively around Iris.
The warmth in the room was enough to soften even the coldest heart.
Soon, the floodgates opened.
Representatives from the myriad sects, noble clans, rchant guilds, and even wandering cultivators began streaming into Rice City.
So traveled thousands of miles just for this occasion, bearing elaborate gifts—rare spiritual herbs, ancient talismans, divine-rank toys, even treasures sealed for generations.
Elders bowed respectfully before Riley. Clan heads lowered their arrogance.
Younger disciples stood stiffly, overwheld by the atmosphere.
Everyone wore polite smiles, offering congratulations, blessings, and carefully chosen words of admiration.
Riley received each of them with perfect composure.
His expression remained warm, his voice courteous, his hospitality sincere.
He thanked them for their presence, listened to their greetings, and welcod each gift with the grace expected of a powerful leader.
Of course, he understood the reality beneath those smiles.
These people were not rely celebrating a birth—they were investing. Building good relations.
Hoping to gain favor with a man whose reputation rivaled sect masters, and now with a child who showed signs of becoming a prodigy of terrifying potential.
But Riley held no resentnt toward their motives. In fact, he understood them completely.
This was the natural rhythm of the immortal world.
Strength attracted alliances, influence attracted attention. And had he been the weaker one, he too would have sought to form ties with the stronger powers around him.
That was the essence of survival in their realm. Not cruelty. Not deception. Simply practicality.
And so, as the celebration continued outside—drums pounding, fireworks lighting the night sky, and cultivators exchanging stories—Riley stood inside his ho, holding his tiny daughter while Iris rested beside him.
For the first ti in a long while, he felt sothing he had forgotten existed in the world of cultivators:
true peace, true warmth, and the quiet pride of a man whose future was no longer just his own.
As for the endless chaos that simred throughout the immortal realm, none of it ever managed to stain Riley’s doorstep.
His family lived in peace—untouched, unbothered, and unchallenged—not because they hid from danger, but because danger itself feared approaching them.
Everyone knew who Riley was.
He was not a man to provoke. Not a man to test. Not a man to cross under any circumstances.
The legend of the Ash Maker continued to soar higher with every passing year.
So said he could incinerate a hundred cultivators with a single thought.
Others whispered that he once erased a demonic general from existence without even stepping foot onto the battlefield.
Parents frightened their misbehaving children with warnings that the Ash Maker would co if they didn’t behave.
Even the most arrogant geniuses trembled when his na was ntioned, as though speaking it too loudly would invite disaster.
And now, with Iris standing proudly at his side, his already terrifying reputation reached new heights.
She was a peak cultivator in her own right, a woman whose strength could shake mountains and whose composure made sect leaders bow their heads.
Together, they ford an unmovable peak—two giants whose auras alone were enough to make lesser cultivators kneel.
To consider making trouble for their household was sheer folly.
Only a mindless fool—or soone seeking suicide—would dare to provoke them.
And even those rare fools did not remain in the world long.
Whenever trouble ca crawling, it was erased before it could take root.
Riley’s response was swift, decisive, and utterly unforgiving.
There were no second chances, no warnings, no negotiations.
The mont soone threatened his family, his iron hand of justice descended.
Entire groups vanished overnight, leaving behind only silent ashes scattered by the morning wind.
Rumors spread like wildfire.
Stories of invaders who entered his territory only to evaporate before reaching the city gates.
Tales of assassins who tried to approach, only for their shadows to be the only thing that returned.
Whispers circulated that Riley did not simply kill his enemies—he erased their legacy, ensuring the world never rembered their nas.
In an immortal realm filled with conflict, ambition, and endless strife, Riley and his family stood in a realm of their own—serene, untouched, and feared by all.
Their ho was not rely protected. It was a place the world itself dared not disturb.
"Hmmm... peace at last." Riley murmured as he stretched lazily across the soft clouds beneath him.
For once, there were no screaming enemies, no arrogant challengers, no fools trying to test their luck.
Just silence. Just serenity. Just the world finally behaving the way it should.
With nothing pressing to do, he allowed himself to relax fully, sinking into the comfort of the mont.
His divine sense extended outward like an invisible tide, sweeping across mountains, rivers, sect grounds, and empty skies as he searched once again for the so-called owner of this realm.
Nothing. Not even a flicker.
Riley clicked his tongue softly.
"Hiding again," he muttered, not particularly bothered.
He let his divine sense retract, folding back into his body like a lazy breeze.
"Doesn’t matter," he said, eyes closing as he rested his head on his hands. "I have all the ti in the world."
With that final thought, he stopped caring entirely about that old fogey.
In the vastness of the immortal realm, soone who couldn’t even be found wasn’t worth sparing another second of concern.
Riley simply let the idea drift away, forgotten like dust on the wind.
Reviews
All reviews (0)