Netori: Reborn as the Human Aphrodisiac-Chapter 51: If It Can Go Wrong, It Will!

How to balance the interests and goals of various factions so that the nation stays peaceful and prosperous for years to come? Balance, at the national level, is a tricky concept. A consuming job that few can manage consistently.

In the Blood-Smelting Kingdom, Vel'Asha handled that job, keeping internal and external threats contained with a blend of mystic, terror and diplomacy. So long as Vel'Asha stood, the Purple Dawn Continent didn't have three gurus that could threaten the House of Uriah.

But the moment she fell into a coma, side-effect from healing the injuries inflicted on Gaiseric by the Red God, the nation was doomed.

Back then, Mithras didn't have all the info to understand the consequences of taking Vel'Asha out of the picture. But it would soon become clear that the Blood-Smelting Kingdom was far wealthier than its average citizen realized.

In terms of Ener Mines and other critical sources of Sid-related goods, it was no exaggeration to say that the Blood-Smelting Kingdom ranked second among the various nations—only behind the Angra Theocracy.

With an abundance of untapped wealth left unexploited due to stagnating technology and a lack of arcane infrastructure, it is no surprise that the Blood-Smelting Kingdom became the target of so many—including some powerhouses of the Angra Theocracy.

For these reasons, Gaiseric did his best to prevent news of the Queen Mother's condition from leaking. And in that regard, the king did a stellar job. Sadly for the House of Uriah, over the years Gaiseric had forgotten…that of his many enemies, the queen he obsessed over…was no doubt the worse. And his mother's protection…was the only reason she'd not offed him yet.

With Vel'Asha out of the way, Elektra no longer had to hold back. And so while the world celebrated the decline of the Red Cloud Theocracy, its leader played with voodoo figurines, draining the lifeforce of the Uriah males to zero.

"The Withering Curse, also known as the Wasting Disease. Gaiseric, did you know? The Queen Mother taught me that mantra. Funny that I am now using it to destroy the house she worked so hard to protect," Elektra whispered at Gaiseric's voodoo figurine, then tossed it into the air, spinning 180 and walking out of her chambers. Silver flames lit up the figurines, reducing them all into ashes.

Elektra would never say it out loud, but she had no end of respect and affection for the Queen Mother, her teacher—who not only saved her from a disastrous future, but also taught her all she knew without expecting anything in return.

Gratitude is a basic quality that even wild animals are capable of. But no matter how grateful Elektra was to Vel'Asha, she loved her dead sister more, and wouldn't rest till she'd destroyed the hopes and dreams of those who'd sacrificed her for profit.

Yet as some might expect, Elektra wasn't the only one to exploit Vel'Asha's condition to make her move. And as the queen entered a teleportation circle on her way to the capital, the Angra Theocracy dispatched the 300 Zealots, a sinister order of templars and gurus devoted to Ahriman: Antigod of Infernalism, and Master of Malice.

They too entered teleportation portals, appearing directly at Flameheart City's gates.

A Disruption Field set-up by the Queen Mother over the years prevented anyone from teleporting into the capital. So, the zealots took the old-fashioned approach: murdering the city guard and forcing their way in—all without a sound.

On the way to the royal palace, the Zealots went unhinged, entering houses and temples to slit the throats of men and women who worshipped the Red God and other deities not named Ahriman.

Religious figures and nobles became the preferred targets. Too strong to find their match in Flameheart City, the Zealots collected heads like cutting grass. And by the time those murderous blades had reached the royal palace, dozens of Heads of Households, hundreds of priests and nobles, were all found dead…with their throats gashed open, and Ahriman's name carved into their faces.

Among the victims, Duke Luther of House Astalon. Duke Rodric of Tantares, and many other prominent names.

History would remember this as the Night of Silent Screams—a night that embodied the terror of the Angra Theocracy.

Interestingly, at the helm of the 300 Zealots was a mesmerizing young lady with lustrous purple hair that trailed at her slender back.

A golden mask covered her face, only allowing a look into her spellbinding pair of cyan-colored eyes. The Zealots stood behind her like an ordered pack of wolves. And how else could it be when this young lady had been appointed by Akamana herself as the First Daughter of Angra—destined to become the next Grand Priestess.

But unbeknown to the Zealots, another woman hid among them, watching the purple-haired lady with a soft look and unmistakable fondness.

Then she raised her eyes, looking past the purple-haired lady to lock on the royal palace.

'Poor, poor Elektra. As a Selfless Guru, I'm surprised you've still not learned that revenge is just a psychological necessity. You may try to spin it in the most righteous, reassuring, and inspiring way you can think of, but ultimately you will be forced to accept that it is no more than a duty you forced unto yourself—a cry against your inability to alter fate. It bears no weight on the dead.

And because of your petty thirst for revenge, you have let me in,' the woman's thoughts trailed off.

---

Meanwhile, Mithras awoke at last, his eyelids trembling as he activated his Sensory Secret to get a feel of his surroundings.

The sight of a dozen wet nurses laying on the sideline with cum oozing from their cunts caught his attention. The aftertaste of milk in his mouth helped make sense of the madness. But once Mithras caught Honoria suckling his balls while Cassandra took a more hesitant approach, jerking his shaft against her clit, Mithras blanked out—his jaw dropping in confusion.

"This is all for a good cause. I'm just trying to wake you up. Don't blame me…ok?" Cassandra whispered, inwardly trying to convince herself that she was just trying to help—and not jumping into degeneracy like Honoria and the wet nurses had done so far.

But once Mithras' precum started dripping onto her clit and slit, Cassandra became more honest, lowering the shaft to her succulent hole, and impaling herself on Mithras' monstercock.

'Cool…' One simple word echoed in Mithras' mind. But then he realized he was getting taken advantage of and glanced at Honoria—resolved to teach her a lesson.

Because yes, it only took a second for Mithras to realize, that only a noble hussy such as Honoria could be behind such a perverted wake-up scene.