Chapter 448: Not Like a Sister

Although I wanted nothing more than to dive straight into the elven kingdom like a meteor of raw, unfiltered chaos, I had to restrain myself.

According to Leaf, the elven queen is a powerful magic user, and she has the backing of a demon god.

So, a direct assault was a stupid idea.

Plus, I have plenty of time to form a plan and gather my forces before making my move.

So I focused on the development of my city these past days, helping my sister and Arwen with their never-ending list of projects. We built new districts, expanded the walls, and even finished with the massive coliseum for my children to "entertain" themselves.

Speaking of the coliseum, I added a feature—my sister's idea—to solve a problem that we could face in the long run.

Inflation.

The Nightmare Tower is like a money-printing press that spits out gold and silver coins. It's a god-tier tool, but if I'm not careful, it could cause massive problems that… to be fair, I'm not smart enough to understand, but I trust Vicky and Arwen.

So, they came up with a brilliant idea: turn money into mana.

The concept is simple. We, the governing body of the city, provide multiple services for our citizens.

Citizens could spend gold at city-run facilities—the coliseum, training halls, ritual chambers, pleasure dens, body modification, breeding clinics, etc.—and in return, that currency was converted into raw mana and fed into the second tower core that was moved from the tower to the city, deep underground.

Instead of hoarding coins, we gave them purpose.

Money flowed out. Mana flowed back. Inflation died before it could even be born.

Vicky called it "ethical extortion."

Arwen called it "a sustainable divine economy."

I called it "not my problem anymore."

And honestly? It worked beautifully. At least in this stage, we only converted 0.3% of the gold used to mana. That percent would increase as we introduce new tower floors with better loot.

Oh, and speaking of loot, I recently recalled the loophole that the Nightmare Tower's loot system provides for me.

I have control over the loot that drops from mobs as the tower's administrator, and at the same time, I can enter the tower as a challenger, slay mobs, and claim the loot.

So I can mess around—let's say… change the coin drop on a certain goblin mob from a few copper coins to 99,999 gold coins—jump in the tower, slay that goblin, and boom.

I'm rich.

Not that I need money; it's just fun to play with the system, and as long as the tower has mana, it could "drop" anything I added to the loot system. The only problem is that the loot system is a fucking nightmare of math and numbers, a headache I don't want to deal with.

Fortunately, my lovely sister is back, and she can do the numbers for me. Moreover, the system was designed by Lilith and Victoria in the past.

She told me about it a few days ago.

So… yup… I could finally obtain a tentacle sword, an armor made of liquid semen, a shield that shoots lasers from a buttplug, and many other fucked-up things that my twisted mind could come up with.

I was excited.

So excited, I forgot about my blue balls for a whole day.

But my sister noticed the stupid smile on my face and put a stop to my wet dreams.

"NO," she said.

"But—" I started.

"Don't even think about it," she cut me off. Her glare could turn a god to stone.

"Please?" I tried to sound cute, batting my eyelashes at her.

"NO," she said again, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Please, I'll be quick. I just need to test the system, make sure it works, you know, for the good of the city," I whined, my lower lip trembling.

"…for the city?" Vicky raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes.

"Yes! For the city!"

"You mean the city inside your pussy, right?"

"…" I pouted.

"Good. Now go and build that bridge we talked about."

Sigh.

Life as a horny goddess with a strict twin sister is hard.

I sulked.

Not dramatically—well, maybe a little dramatically—but enough that Vicky noticed as she walked away, hands behind her head, wings flicking with smug satisfaction.

My sister's NO was a cosmic constant, right up there with gravity and my perpetual state of horniness. But I was also me. And when I wanted something, the universe usually had the good sense to brace for impact.

So I built the damn bridge.

Out of spite.

Out of genius.

Out of artistic vision.

From a purely architectural standpoint, it was flawless. Structurally sound. Perfectly balanced. Reinforced with layered runes, adaptive enchantments, and self-healing stone veins. It could withstand sieges, earthquakes, and at least one angry dragon doing body slams out of principle.

From an aesthetic standpoint?

It was… a grand, proud, long, thick, and beautifully detailed cock. Complete with two swollen testicles serving as decorative anchor pylons on the southern bank.

"Ah~… this is art." I stood at the edge of the construction platform, hands on my hips, admiring my work as the final runes flared to life along its shaft.

Arwen appeared beside me in a silent shimmer of light, her notepad already in hand, glasses perched on her nose.

"Morgana. This bridge connects the residential district to the market ward."

"Yes."

"Children will cross it."

"Yes."

"And you shaped it like—"

"A celebration of fertility," I cut in smoothly. "Which aligns perfectly with the city's values."

"Pfftt… HAHAHAHA!" Vicky burst out laughing.

Like, really laughing. Bent over, wings shaking, tail slapping the stone as tears formed in her eyes.

"Oh gods," she wheezed. "You didn't just defy me. You made infrastructure horny."

"I am infrastructure," I said defensively. "Therefore, it's horny by default."

Arwen cleared her throat.

"Structurally, it's brilliant," she admitted, making a note. "Symbolically… it will cause three diplomatic incidents before breakfast and a surge in procreative rituals."

Vicky finally straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Fine," she said, still grinning. "Keep the dick bridge."

"I know," I puffed out my chest.

"Now all I have to do is build a pussy gate," I mused aloud, already imagining the grand entrance.

"All right, no more playing with your 'architecture.'" Vicky grabbed my arm and started dragging me away. "You need to rest."

"I NEED TO FUCK!" I yelled, thrashing in her grip like a petulant child. "I'm a goddess of breeding! I'm losing my mind here, I NEED TO BREED!"

"No," Vicky said simply, her grip tightening.

"WHY?" I whined, unable to understand why the fuck my sister was acting this way.

I loved her more than anything, and that was the only reason why I didn't punch her in the face for daring to forbid me from having sex. If it were another person, they would have been dead already.

Correction: bred to death. I'm the goddess of breeding, after all.

"I told you, Morgi," she said, her tone softening slightly as she pulled me into her office. "It's a dragon thing."

"…" I stared at her.

Blankly.

Silently.

"…A dragon thing?" I blinked at Vicky, my horny tantrum momentarily derailed by confusion. My demon tail flicked irritably as I yanked my arm free from her grip, crossing them over my chest.

"What the hell does that even mean? You've been cockblocking me for weeks with this cryptic bullshit. Spill it, or I swear I'll build a second dick bridge just to spite you."

Vicky sighed, shutting the door to her office with a flick of her tail. The room was a chaotic mess of parchment, glowing crystals, and half-carved weapons littered across a massive obsidian desk. She leaned against it, her crimson eyes glinting with something I couldn't quite place—annoyance, maybe, or something deeper.

"Look, Morgi," she started, rubbing the back of her neck, her usual smugness replaced by a rare hint of discomfort. "Dragons… we're territorial. Possessive. You know that. And when we—when I—get close to someone, it's not just casual. It's fucking primal. Instincts kick in. Hard. I don't just want you screwing around with some random person or whatever because…"

She trailed off, her jaw tightening as if the words physically pained her to say. I raised an eyebrow, impatience bubbling up.

"Because what?" I pressed, stepping closer. "Finish the damn sentence, Vicky. You're not making any sense. You've never cared who I bang before. What's different now?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, MORGI!" she finally snapped, her voice echoing in the room.

"I know, you're my twin sister, and I love you too." I raised an eyebrow, confused. "What does that have to do with any of this?"

"NO! NOT LIKE THAT!" she shouted, running a hand through her back hair, her claws catching in the strands. "Not the sisterly love I mean… 'I love you' love…"

"I…" she said, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "I always wanted you for myself… more than just a sister… even before all this… before the dragon thing… but I was too scared to say it."

I stood there, stunned into silence as Vicky's words slammed into me like a fucking meteor. My jaw dropped, and for once, I didn't have a snarky comeback loaded and ready. Her confession hung in the air, raw and heavy, her usual armor of sarcasm and control shattered into a million pieces.

"Victoria…" I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "All this time… you…"

She looked away, her shoulders hunched, looking so damn vulnerable it twisted something deep inside me. My twin. The one person I'd fought beside, bled with, shared souls with for millennia… and she'd been hiding this? This huge, world-ending, everything-changing secret?

"I thought I could handle it like before," she mumbled, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"But now, with this dragon blood raging through me, it's worse. Every time you even think about someone else, every time your aura spikes with lust, I want to rip them apart. It's not just jealousy, Morgi. It's a fucking wildfire in my soul. I don't want to share you. I want to own you. Every inch of you. Every moan, every orgasm, every fucking second of your attention. And I know it's insane. I know you're the goddess of breeding, and it's your nature to spread your legs for the entire damn universe, but—"

I cut her off, surging forward and crashing my lips into hers. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It wasn't a sisterly peck. It was hungry, desperate, a collision of millennia of repressed emotion and newfound, dragon-fueled desire. I bit her lower lip just hard enough to make her gasp, and my tongue tangled with hers in a fierce, possessive dance.

It all made sense now.

The cock-blocking. The overwhelming territorial scent she had been broadcasting. The constant presence. It wasn't just "dragon necessity"; it was the raw, possessive love of a predator that had finally cornered its one and only prey.

Me.

When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, her crimson eyes wide with shock and a dawning, desperate hope.

"You idiot," I growled, my forehead pressed against hers. "You massive, paranoid, territorial, beautiful idiot. Do you think I would say no to you?"

"I just thought—" she stammered, her usual composure completely gone.

"Well, stop thinking," I commanded, my lips curling into a wicked grin. My cock, already in a perpetual state of readiness, throbbed against my thigh, aching with a newfound purpose.

My sister wanted me?

My sister wanted to own me?

Game on… BABY!

"Vicky," I purred, my voice dropping to a low, husky murmur that was part horny goddess, part angry predator.

"Yes?" she breathed, her pupils blown wide.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"Take me to your bed," I whispered. "Or I'm taking you on your desk. Right now. And I don't care if your precious reports get ruined… I want to fuck you raw."

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