His Majesty "King of Kings", "The Dragon" Arthur George Brittania.
Erotica
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"Hah, Hah, HAH!!! "
Her screams and moans resound as she grips the bed sheet. She is quite a beauty: shoulder length silky black hair darker than sin. Her oval face that speaks of her Caucasian and Oriental descent. Her breasts are some of the most amazing I've ever been chanced to see. Quite large and shapely, with none of the sagginess that usually comes with. They are as soft as they looked, and springy too. Her gorgeous ass that only accentuates her appeal. Her porcelain white skin that made her look like a doll, albeit one that screamed "sex" with every square centimetre. Even her dainty little feet and immaculate pedicure; blood red nails that look especially alluring. Her height is quite average for a woman, and especially considering her origins; 1.50 m. She is on her knees, her lovely rear sticking out, while I screw her from behind. I grip her throat, as I throttle her, her cute moans punctuating the silence of my royal chambers. The bed was massive; fit for a dragon, and draped in scarlet satin. While it would normally be full with the highest grade courtesans who met my refined tastes, or ravishing ladies taken from the citizenry; I certainly aren't one to deny myself any pleasures I desire; including my family. Today out of a sign of respect to my guest, the bed was bare save for the two of us. I'm not entirely sure I'd be able to get away with keeping my usual companions around while we do the deed; she is the ambassador of the Great Kingdom of China after all, as well as the daughter of their king. The last thing I need is to cause a diplomatic incident through my bedroom activities. Nevertheless, even without her diplomatic status, I doubt I would accord her that disrespect; sex with her is a rewarding enough activity by itself. I thrust into her with renewed vigour.
"Scream for me Ye Weiwei."
"Aaaahnnn!!!"
"Moan for me."
"Miaow."
She moans as she climaxes, I'm not going to stop screwing her with just this though. I look at her in the full length mirror on the wall behind the bed. This was it; that look of pure rapture, that raw ecstasy, that expression of unbridled jubilee that let everyone know she'd been fucked silly. This was why I'd never get tired of fucking Weiwei. While I'm not loathe to sex as part of diplomacy, coitus with Weiwei is none of that; it is purely for pleasure. This girl knows how to push all my buttons, and take me to cloud nine. She enjoys it, I enjoy it and if it keeps The Empire united and allows me to delay talks of engagement, then all the better. I have to hand it to Ye Han; this was the best present I could have asked for. Weiwei never ceases to amaze me; she was gift-wrapped and presented to me on the occasion of the founding of The Empire, and as a virgin. But you certainly wouldn't have guessed from how wild the first night was. She's more skilled than even some of the best courtesans money can buy. They must have been quite prepared for this, damn Chinese. I pick her up, and stand up supporting her only on my shaft. I stick my right index and middle fingers into her mouth spreading it open, then use my left hand to knead her right breast, all while furiously stabbing her with my crotch.
"Stahp. Uhn. Arfur uuu meanie"
Her face is teary eyed and her expression a beautiful painting; a fusion between bliss, anger, sorrow and resistance. There's no way in hell I'm going to cease now. I continue my piston action; pounding her with all my strength until we both reached rapture. She collapses on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. Her face even more stupefied than before if such a thing was possible. My crotch lay flaccid.
"Moan for me Weiwei."
"... Miaow"
And that was it, my crotch was erect again. My groin raging hard. I picked her up again, and suspended her on my cock only this time through her plump ass. I used "left hand of God", and a phantasm arm reached tens of metres across the room to my closet. I opened it, grabbed and retrieved a 9 inch dildo. The dildo entered my left hand as the phantasm arm dissipated. I sent the vibrator to the max, and stabbed it into her groin. Her spasms had me ejaculating immediately, and her moan as she came got me hard again. I continued stabbing her, at times pushing her forward and only holding her hands suspending her in mid air. We formed a "V" shape like a suspension bridge. It was worth it to watch those tits jiggle. At times I left only my cock to support her, using my hands to ravish her scrumptious breasts.After another orgasm, I threw her on the bed, as I mounted her in the missionary position. I held her two dainty arms above her head as I fucked then kissed her, completely dominating her. I released her arms as she gripped me with all her strength her nails clawing into my back as she kissed me. Damn even her kiss was divine. Truly there's a difference between having sex and making love. And Weiwei can make love like no other. I bent my head to her breasts as I began sucking on both her teats, simulatenously, her face looked like someone had scooped out her brain with a spoon. She was well and truly fucked senseless. I turned her over lying her on her stomach as I screwed her ass, slapping it and watching them shake vigorously. Aah, I might get addicted to this. Who am I kidding, I'm addicted already.
End Erotica
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12 hours later, I lay on my back panting. I was completely exhausted. I'd orgasmed for the nth time, and even though Weiwei's stupefied look was arousing me, try as I might junior wouldn't rise. I was well and truly spent. 16 hours, that's the longest yet. Even when I ran marathons with courtesans, I never exceeded 6. To think that Weiwei would be able to keep me occupied for 16 hours. She's very dangerous. Just how many times right now did my concentration slip enough for an assassin to end me. She's perilous, exceedingly so. I know that, she knows that. We both know that the other knows, and we both know that I'm not going to put her away. It's even less likely than me forswearing sex and abjuring all worldly pleasures. She's the personification of the phrase "femme fatale".
You see sex for me wasn't just a matter of satisfying lust. Above all else, I craved power. Power and Superiority; my right by virtue of existence.
"Nihil Superbum"
My maxim, and the banner I raised during the Guild War. I do not tolerate the existence of any human greater than me. Whatever it is I apply myself to, I must be the best. That is my birthright, and a matter of course. You could say that it is the correct order of the Universe.
"Nihil Superbum" it was engraved on my chest, right below my collar bone. I looked at my hands; on my left hand "Nihil", and on my right "Superbum". The rings I usually wore with the maxim were absent today. One on my left middle finger: "Nihil", and another on my right "Superbum". It was my maxim and my creed, the oath that I swore, and a reminder of the sin that I carried.
For me, one of the most enjoyable parts of sex, the true reason I was addicted to it was the euphoric high I got when I was able to completely dominate a woman. Make her mine such that she'd never again be able to orgasm from another. Sex was an exercise by which I affirmed that there was nothing wrong with the Universe. That the Universe was following its natural order. A means by which I verified that there was no error in the world, no abomination in the natural flow of things. No violation of causality. The fact that sex was physically enjoyable, was only an added benefit. Above all else I was a hedonist. By virtue of my existence, the world was my birthright, so was it not only natural that I took whatever pleasures my body desired? Yes. I clenched my fist and watched as my expression contorted, even my sister. It was my policy to indulge myself in whatever my heart desired, and never deny myself any pleasure my soul sought. It was and should be so; another part of the natural order.
Weiwei was as perilous as she was because she understood all this. She understood what sex truly was for me, and played to all my hopes and expectations. The art of flattery is the first art of negotiaton, and Weiwei knew it. She knew it so well, that she flattered me with every second of the act, every move she made, her every mannerism. She flattered my very soul. In a way so gracious, I couldn't help but be enamoured to her. Junior got hard again. She scuttled over and swallowed my crotch, before she began to administer her heavenly blow job. She knew I knew all this, but she also knew I wouldn't mind it. The fact is, whatever her intentions are she isn't hostile to me. She doesn't mean me harm; I've actually tested this before, and have several times left my self defenseless around her at opportune times for her to assassinate me. If she truly desired harm for me, she had ample opportunity to pursue it.
Of course, I wouldn't really have died. Though I'm loathe to use her like that, Liz wouldn't let me die; rather even if I died, it was merely a matter of resurrection. I'm her beloved student and greatest source of entertainment after all. Whatever her agenda, Weiwei's intentions are most likely on the level of manipulating me to some end. Even if I know that, my pride won't let me move against her; and she likely knows this fact as well. She's not only a divinely beautiful girl, she's just as intelligent as well. While it's true that it takes more than physical appearance to make a good ambassador, but Weiwei's intellect is far above what is required. One may wonder why China would be willing to throw away a talent like that. However, I can only see the day of my betrothal to her getting ever so closer. If you consider that China was sending a prospective Empress, then it makes sense why they'll send what may very well be their most talented youth.
Feeling my release coming close, I grabbed her head and rammed my cock into her throat before ejaculating. She gulped it down with glee, before proceeding to clean up my shaft with her tongue. Seeing her blissful expression, it took all my will power and more; knowledge of just who I'd kept waiting outside the door, to resist from taking her again there and then. I could see the look of mirth on her face as she enjoyed watching me struggle, watching the power she held over me, all while continuing to suck me off. The annoying thing, is I don't dislike these engagements; these battle of wits. They serve to spike the relationship with sufficient flavour. In fact, I wouldn't be sent to cloud nine by Weiwei acting as she does if she wasn't as intelligent as she was; dominating a competent woman is a whole different ball game, the utility of which can't be compared to dominating a mediocre woman. Weiwei is both intelligent, competent and a powerful combatant. Dominating her is like overdosing on heroin. I eventually settled for a compromise.
"Come in Teacher," making clear the pecking order, then:
[We'll be talking over telepathy, while keeping up a suitable mundane conversation in the foreground].
She walked in wearing her signature purple robe, her voluminous violet hair behind her. She was adorned quite simply; bare footed as always, with no makeup or accessories on. Her amethyst eyes contained her frightening intelligence. It went without saying that she was bodacious, and I'd tasted it once. However...
[Ara, ara, you're really sinking too deep].
I mentally shrugged.
[Sex with Weiwei is best after all. She's as good as Stacey, or in some aspects maybe even better.]
[You're much deeper than I thought, you really need to be careful or you'll be wedded before you know it. Rather, are you sure you're not falling in love?]
[Love huh. I certainly can't deny that]
I carressed Weiwei's hair fondly as she continued sucking me off. Liz's concern was appropriate; in order to keep the purity of our bloodline, the Brittanias had practiced incest for centuries, maybe even millennia. To make this more conducive, Brittania males had evolved(or adapted whichever you prefer) to lust after our own kin. It went beyond physical attraction; we instinctively desired our family on a fundamental biological level to the extent that repeated familial rape was present in all generations of Brittania as far back as our records go(1500 years to be precise). We were certainly far more lustful than average males in general as well, even where our kin was not concerned. I inherited both of them in great quantities; the Brittanias' curse, as well as their gift.
That I would even compare let alone equivocate any other woman to my sister is preposterous. The lust I feel for Stacey is an extreme biological urge, and I can't compare Weiwei to Stacey in physical attraction. The latter is several orders of magnitudes more enticing than the former. To be honest, I've lusted for Stacey everyday of these two years. What Weiwei has to offer that Stacey doesn't, is the euphoria that comes with dominating her. I carressed the lightning bolt shaped scar that ran across my torso; from my left shoulder to my right hip - the proof of Stacey's "affection". Stacey offers none of that luxury. Sex with Stacey was only a physical satisfaction of lust. Emotionally, it was an acutely painful experience. I don't even crave lust as I do power. So while I may biologically enjoy Stacey more than Weiwei, if you asked me who I'll prefer gift wrapped, it's Weiwei by miles.
[That's a weakness you know? Tell you what, because I'm such a caring teacher I'll help you deal with your problem. One night. Just one night with me, and you'll never think of Weiwei again. And unlike Weiwei, there's absolutely no danger in falling in love with me.]
I violently shuddered inwardly. I was a good head taller than Liz, but I couldn't help but feel like I had to look up to her. Her proposal was scary because of its implications, and even more petrifying because of its truth. Most humans have a primal fear of getting eaten alive. I'm no different, only the "eating" I'm imagining may be a little different. I'd once tried to bang Liz. Any healthy male would if they didn't know what it came with. I was 12 then; young, horny and at the onset of puberty.
[Thanks but no thanks. I have the hobby of fucking, not getting fucked. A major motive of mine in sex, is dominating the other party. Certainly not the converse. If I agreed to you, you'd have me doing far more unsightly things than I do to Weiwei. It's demeaning as a human being, and I can't imagine I'll ever be able to muster the self respect to raise up my head again, let alone sit on a throne. I think I'll take my chances with Weiwei.]
[A shame. You had a really cute scream you know. And the way you moaned... ]
She reached her finger across my chest, tracing the outline of my scar. I felt a visible jolt of electricity pass through me, my groin that was in Weiwei's mouth enlarged and ejaculated. Even now 10 years later my body still reacts. I hold no delusions that sex with her now would go any different than it did then. I still remember the entire act in vivid detail; all 21,600 seconds of it. The mind-numbing transcendental bliss, and the sheer helplessness and powerlessness I felt. Liz is really rotten; it's not enough that she made you act in such a way as to lose any dignity and all self esteem you had, she went as far as to make you feel utter and total helplessness and powerlessness during the act. All while stimulating you through the transcedental bliss, further crushing your spirit and every shered of self-respect you managed to salvage. She was truly depraved; even when having sex she must make you feel despair (Liz does not make love).
[I'm really horny right now, you know?]
She opened her robe, and brought her hand to her groin. It came out sopping wet. My boner was starting to get acutely painful.
[So would you be a good boy and get eaten obediently, or must I make you cum endlessly until you beg me to eat you?]
Reprobate woman. She's probably getting a kick out of humiliating me in front of my lover, and crushing Weiwei's confidence in her sex appeal and womanly wiles by making me climax with a touch. In her own words:
"I enjoy dominating and crushing proud and strong men; men of ability and dignity. Stepping all over their self-esteem and self confidence gets me high you know? And when you have them screaming for you, moaning, squealing like filthy pigs, begging for it on their hands and knees while barking like a loyal mutt, panting like a bitch in heat, without an iota of their former pride left. Then, that is when I reach euphoria. That is my rapture. And do you know what the best part about it is? It's that you have them eating out of your hands permanently"
Is she just experimenting, or does she "eat" women as well. Well, the gender may not really matter, nor even the act of sex. Liz is a hardcore SADIST. The act of dominating is where the pleasure comes from. I wonder how many men she's ruined over the millennia. If after the act they crave her, she dumps them like hot coal. Only those who pick themselves back up, and fear the mere mention of her name does she pursue. And once she's broken them, she moves on to the next prey.
Using Liz as a piece is fraught with risks, but as long as I keep her. Even if something asinine like a black hole suddenly appearing in the solar system should manifest, I'll survive. The probability of that happening is not zero. There are several sufficiently advanced aliens capable of doing that in this universe alone. Yet, that wasn't the real reason I kept Liz around. Liz was an existence, who could destroy this world on a whim. By keeping her around, keeping her entertained, I sought to prevent this, or failing keep it in moratorium while I yet lived. Which considering my Brittania heritage and esper abilities will be for a while yet.
She's usually more well behaved though; my army has not yet degenerated into an unruly mob of squealing pigs. What set her off?
Is she jealous because I may be falling in love with Weiwei, yet never felt anything of the sort for her? Not definetly, but by far the most probable explanation. Come to think of it, due to her style I don't think anybody has ever fallen in love with her(or survived long enough for it to matter; she sleeps with everyone who wants to have sex with her and some who don't(well they do biologically, but don't consciously. Though, she's been saving me some face by rebuffing my subordinates). Certainly many men have been obsessed with her, or lusted after her. Nevertheless, I'm doubtful they ever felt anything as pure as love.
She brought her hand closer to me, and in response...
[Alvin should be in Ontario. You have my permission to borrow his company.]
Sorry Alvin, but better you than me. Besides if any man can resist Liz it's you; your devotion is rock solid after all. Worry not, your memory would live on within me. I did a mental salute, and started preparing a fitting orbituary.
[Much appreciated. Bon appetit.]
She stopped her hands, and her frivolous look was gone. I retrieved my laptop from where I kept it, and logged into Magic Warfare. Tet was in second place. He was on right now, so I challenged him to a match. I wasn't going to do him the dishonour of a divided attention, so I dismissed Weiwei. 8 hours later.
"He's gotten really good. He's frighteningly strong now, I had to get serious to crush him after all."
My blond hair had turned ginger, and my sapphire eyes amber, proof that I was actually taking Lance a bit serious, albeit not going all out.
"This is really no good. You're underestimating him too much. He's the student I painstakingly raised for all of three years you know? I can't help but be offended, when you look down on him this much. Katelyn said it didn't she; he's a spider. And the worst thing you can do is give him enough time to prepare. While you're here frolicking about, he's painstakingly crafting a web to capture you. Let him have enough time, and he'd weave a web even you won't be able to escape from."
"Sorry, but I can't imagine myself losing. As I can't imagine it, it isn't possible. The last time we faced off, I crushed him without even revealing my full hand."
A lion will use all its strength in hunting a rabbit? Maybe. However, I'm a dragon. My pride won't let me rise let alone put strength into hunting something as insignificant as rabbits. If I'm to hunt a burrow of rabbits, one claw is all I'll commit to the task. This is what it means to be a dragon. This is what it means when I say; "Nihil Superbum."
"Au contraire, I'm not underestimating him. Lance is strong, very strong. I acknowledge him as a worthy opponent. He has met the minimum criteria to be recognised by me. Thus, I'll do him the honour of crushing him with all I have."
I took a pause.
"One. I have recalled my queen, Anastasia to the capital. It would soon be time for her to debut.
Two I've narrowed down his base of operations and dispatched my right hand; my shield Alvin to investigate Canada.
Three, I've upped his threat rating to the second level. Highest caution shall be taken in all matters concerning him. "
Done with my conversation with Liz, I teleport to my throne room. I walk towards my resplendent throne; made of Platinum and Orichalcum, and studded with the finest gems money could buy. The headrest was the head of a dragon, the maw gaping wide. Twin rubies gazed down on me from within. "Nihil Superbum" was carved below the dragon head, forming the backrest.
Alvin and William were the only two youths who could keep up with me. And while they didn't play Magic Warfare on the global servers, Katelyn had set up our own private servers. Their ratings were 3322 and 3324 respectively. Of the duo, Alvin excelled in defensive warfare. Lance was most likely in Canada, due to the impunity with which William moved. There's no one better than Alvin to hold a fort under attack. That I sent him shows just how highly I evaluated Lance; I'd offered him half the world after all.
When I noticed the movements of Orichalcum, it had the smell of a spider all over it. Thus I started observing. Through our moles and information sources I observed as much as I could. The arming of the Resistance, frequency and variety of weapons, information they received, what the rumour mill was saying, everything in the slightest bit relevant. I sought the information, Lance would have intended I find, and the information he wouldn't. I sought out all of it. 6 months ago, I had finally acquired enough information to paint a picture of the situation. I had a handy ability for situations like this. While I was no scholar of Mathematics or the Sciences, at Liz's insistence I'd taken to learn the art of Computer Programming. There are a lot of nifty things you could do with a computer. I went to the PC room, had the computers start replaying all the information I'd acquired. Causality relationships, temporal relationships, timelines, graphs and charts, raw text, the totality of the data. All the raw data and information we'd acquired was displayed, and I absorbed it all. I'd taken up the craft of computing pretty late; my brain was more than sufficient for most data crunching after all. We'd have to be talking on supercomputer level, before it was more efficient to not just process the data with my brain. As I reached the heights of concentration, and my brain went into overdrive, my blond hair turned blood red, and my eyes became rubies; proof that I was using the Brittania's special ability. After a few minutes of number crunching, I had 7 locations. Each of equal probability; State of Brazil, Divided States of America, Great Kingdom of China, Duchy of Australia, State of Germany, State of France, State of Italy.
The conclusion of this information may seem obvious; even if Lancelot was not in any of the countries mentioned, it's likely that Lance was hiding in the United Kingdom of Europe. That was theoretically the most probable explanation, and likely the conclusion Lancelot wanted to lead me to; if Lancelot and I were but mediocre players. Fortunately, we were not. The art of war is the art of deception.
If the average individual was heading south at 180 degrees and they were competent enough to misdirect you, they would make you think they were heading north 0 degrees. If Lancelot made you think he was heading north at 0 degrees, all that you would be able to infer, was that there was a probability of 0.75 that he was heading anywhere between 315 degrees and 45 degrees. In other words, no useful information. They way Lance operated was that the direction he misled you to, and the direction he himself headed were orthogonal. He'd likely use one algorithm to randomly select the misdirection he would use. And if he was free to choose his direction, he'd use another algorithm to randomly determine his direction. Thus, whatever conclusion you reached conveyed no useful information?
Per contra, that is not true. If Lancelot selected his direction and misdirection randomly, then I can infer that the probability of his direction and misdirection being the same, is very low. I can conclude that Lancelot likely didn't go where he said he would go. Amazing deduction isn't it? Of course, it is unlikely that Lancelot randomly selected his actual location. If he was going into hiding, he'd have to have had a cover prepared. So I can't even infer that Lance didn't go where he said he did. Taking the game to a higher level, it's possible he had two identities. One he used for the misdirection, and then discarded. And the other he's using for his real hiding. Thus, even after I've made any inferences from the gathered data, it would be inherently wrong. Yet even this wasn't at the level Lancelot played the game at. After I've come out with my useless conclusions, I'll do some inferences, eliminations, deliberations and come out with fewer locations. I'll then move to attack those locations. Based on the locations I move to attack, he'll make inferences about my deductive process, my information gathering abilities, my data processing capability, and my pieces and available moves. I'll be prematurely revealing my hand. He'll then use this to update his mental map of me, so it more accurately reflected the territory. That battle would end up his victory.
This was Lancelot's style; layers upon layers of machinations and schemes. His web had so many strata to it, that when you think you were above the web, you'd just be caught up in another higher layer. If someone told me that Lancelot designed a plan whose components were not in the tens or hundreds or maybe even more, I would not believe it. A plan with <= 10 components was impossible for Lancelot. Katelyn named him "The Spider"; that does him a disservice. I bestow upon him a more apt epithet; "Thousand Thread Tarantula"
The Thousand Thread Tarantula does not discriminate between hunting a fly, and hunting an eagle. The same web is woven for them both. The prey just gets caught in the appropriate level. Assuredly, this was Lancelot's modus operandi. He'd continue weaving his web, weaving and weaving and weaving. Adding layer upon layers, upon layers. Enough layers until he could hunt even a dragon. This was Lance's groundwork, his preparations.
I couldn't have moved carelessly. Jump to a location, and I'll lose my prey, and grant him unnecessary information. So I stopped. I breathed out, time to kick it up a notch. I increased the range of my scope. Instead of collecting only information that had been deemed relevant. I had decided to respect Lance; so I was going to hold nothing back. I had the computers run a much broader search among our database, the surface web, the deep web and the dark net. I let this searching and information compilation continue for a month.
After the month had elapsed, I reentered that "mode", only this time I dived deeper and deeper. My hypercognition was kicked up to the max. Red lightning flashed across my eyelids as I started crunching data at rates that would put all but the most powerful of supercomputers to shame. This mode caused a bit of strain to myself, and I could only sustain it for a couple of hours. I processed all the information I could for twenty minutes. After which I stopped. I breathed out. 5 countries came out. The probability that Lance was in one of these 5, was 0.999. I could narrow down to four, but the moment I did that, the probability dropped sharply. If this was what it took to defeat Lance, then fine, I'll match him.
Lancelot was fearsome sure, but that wasn't why I'd decided to crush him with my full strength. What was even more frightening, was his potential. The potential I'd recognised 3 years ago. The potential that led me to offer him half the world. That potential of his, and his atypical nature. If I was to say when I truly started preparing for round two, it was three years ago. To have crushed Lancelot as he was then, would have been such a waste. Only when he has matured and become ripe. Only then is he fit for hunting. I was like a farmer watching his crops grow, waiting to harvest them. Lancelot was the crop, and the harvest the pleasure of the battle. And like any dilligent farmer, I was sure to water and nourish my crops; that the harvest may be all the more bountiful. Hurry up and reach where I am Lancelot. It's lonely at the summit after all.
Over the next 5 months, I manipulated allies and enemies alike, subtly rearranging the board, subtly moving my pieces. Once I made a move I watched the reaction; watched and gauged. How probable was this outcome of Lance was indeed here? Based on my map of him, how would he act? What's the updated posterior probability of Lance hiding out here. It was an agonisingly slow process, the number of times I'd applied Bayes rule was in the thousands. To go this far showed how highly I regarded him. I was willing to abase myself to do this kind of planning, of scheming. Movement like this was usually considered "beneath me" by my opponents. And it was mostly true; I never used my all to hunt a rabbit. Only when the opponent was at or near my level, only then could you watch how the Dragon truly hunts. I'd use my breath to roast my prey, if my breath was no good, then I'd use my claws to shred my prey, if my claws were ineffective, then I'd destroy them with my tail. If that was still not enough, I'd maul them with my fangs. If I couldn't vanquish them, then I'd use my body; my scales, and my bones, my muscles and my organs. Once I recognised an opponent, I faced them with every fiber of my being. This was my style, this was the hunt of The Black Dragon.
After a span of 4 months, my labour bore fruit. I was able to restrict Lance's location to the Duchy of Canada, or the Divided States of America. I snuck in William; my sword into the DSA, and let him hunt. 3 days ago, I received the message from Will that Lancelot was not there. I let the Duke of Canada return back to his territory; my shield to hold down the fort. I was able to do all of this without Lancelot finding out. He most likely thought I wasn't looking for him, on a whim of Liz's or due to considering him beneath me.
This was true groundwork; laying the foundation with your opponent none the wiser.
I'd sent my right hand, my shield; Alvin to his base of operations. My left hand, my sword; William was uniquely placed to assist Alvin, and develop a pincer attack. I'd recalled my Queen; Anastasia, for the mobilisation of that plan.
I sat down upon my throne. My hands spread wide as to embrace the world.
This was my groundwork, this was my preparation.
I raised my right hand curled in a fist to my jaw, my hair turned scarlet and my eyes became crimson.
The opening moves have been made. The board is set. The game has begun.
Now come Lancelot, it's your move.