Chapter 480: Chapter 480 - Ordering Everyone Except that Anomaly

They were realizing — he was literally telling them to be separate from him.

To go to a world where time would eat them.

To survive some days or who knows months without him.

To build a kingdom.

To become strong enough for him.

To never see him again until he returned.

Veronica’s lips were trembling.

She was just now pulling out of the horny state, just now realizing what was happening, just now understanding that she was being abandoned.

Jennifer tried to protest.

"But you—" Her voice was wrecked, her throat still swollen from his cock. "But — you, Lord — what about —"

He looked at her.

His eyes were cold.

"Your son," he said.

Jennifer flinched.

"He must have already adjusted to the new world," he continued. "Due to the time distortion. An hour to a day in that world... so for 2-3 days here, that would be 50+ days in that world. "

He looked at her face.

"Make sure to create a closed chain of command, as the kingdoms there have heroes exclusive to themselves, and we will control one of the chain commands called Eldoria Kingdom, which had two heroes, but now... you all will join them ."

His hand found her chin.

He pinched her nose.

Her mouth opened reflexively.

He placed his limp cock against her lips.

"Wait for me," he said. "As fast as possible."

He slowly slid it inside.

Her throat bulged.

Her eyes rolled back.

She gagged around the soft, limp flesh, her hands finding his hips, her menstruation blood mixed with cum and water around her thighs.

He looked at Veronica.

"I can trust you, right?"

She trembled.

She was still pressed against his chest, her tits smooshed, her red hair wet and matted, her eyes still wide with the realization that she was being sent away from him.

"Yes," she whispered.

She nodded.

"I would make sure to do that."

He smiled.

He looked at the insignia signing over her vagina — the violet brand pulsing at her labia, the mark he had placed there that would kill her if she let another man touch her.

"Control your greediness," he said. "As if you let another man fuck you —"

He didn’t finish the threat.

He didn’t need to.

The death mark would kill her. She would die from orgasms. Her cunt would explode. She knew it.

Before he could complete the sentence, Veronica moved.

She grabbed his face.

She kissed him.

Her lips pressed against his, her mouth opening, her tongue pushing in, her teeth catching his lower lip. She sucked his lips, her heavy tits smashing against his chest, her nipple pressing into his abs, her body pressing against his.

He closed his eyes.

One after another, all the women started to hug together.

They formed a crowd around him.

Veronica pressed against his front, her tits smooshed, her wet hair against his face. Jennifer pressed against his side, her mouth still containing his limp cock, her throat bulging. Hana and Fatima pressed against his back, their enormous tits pressing against him, their mouths still wet from his balls. Meera pressed against his right, her pregnant belly smooshed against his hip, her milk leaking. Avriana pressed against his left, her body still twitching, her oracle face still broken.

They were all hugging him.

They were all grinding their pussies against him.

They were all trying to feel the softness of boobs against each other, the wetness of their cunts pressed together, the heat of their bodies tangled in the turquoise water.

He was covered in the crowd of women.

He chuckled.

Surpp

"Mmmhnnn~~"

"Not enough."

His hand roamed.

Over asses.

Thick, tight, wet, filled with his seed, trembling with the aftershocks of his command orgasm. Preet’s brown ass beneath the water, Yuna’s pale flesh, Kira’s firm muscle, Clara’s softness, Fatima’s enormous cheeks, Hana’s milf roundness, Jennifer’s trembling flesh, Avriana’s oracle softness, Meera’s pregnant hips, Marga’s secretary fuller, Müller’s thick mature ass, the slave row’s young tightness, the Beast-Touched mutation, the Aqua Sovereign’s smoothness, the Dream Succession’s dream-warmth.

He felt all of it.

His hand roamed over their pussies.

Wet. Filled with his seed. Trembling. Pulsing with the marks he had placed there.

"Not enough," he thought again. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"I still need at least..."

He smiled.

He felt how Veronica started to hump her hips.

She was grinding against him, her pussy rubbing against his thigh, her clit pressing into his leg, her body trying to get more from him even as he prepared to send her away.

Jennifer’s mouth became a pussy.

His limp cock was still in her throat, and she was sucking it harder, her throat bulging more, her eyes rolling, her hands pressing his hips, her mouth now a pussy-fucking machine, deep-throating him like she was trying to milk him for every drop.

He kissed Veronica.

His lips pressed against hers, his tongue pushing in, his teeth catching her lip, his abs pressing against her heavy tits, his cock still in Jennifer’s mouth while he kissed the woman who was going to be his First Lady.

"At least," he said.

He pulled back.

He looked at the women around him.

The hugging, the grinding, the kissing, the sucking, the crying, the trembling, the marks pulsing, the bodies pressed together, the cunts leaking cum and arousal and milk and blood and sweat into the water.

"At least 999+."

He looked up.

The smile was still on his face when the sky changed.

It happened slowly at first — a deepening of the red that had hung over the island all afternoon, a thickening of the clouds at the horizon that made them look less like weather and more like intention. Then the clouds began to move in the wrong direction, pulling inward toward a central point above the island like water circling a drain.

Red. Deep crimson. The color of the slave marks on their pussies.

The color of something opening.

The portal gate was forming.

The island’s sky was becoming a door.

Raven stood in the pool water to his thighs, nineteen women pressing against him, their wet bodies warm and heavy, their marked cunts still pulsing against his skin. He looked at the sky above with the expression of a man who had just heard a clock strike the hour he had been expecting.

One hour.

The gate would be fully open in one hour.

And then the separation would begin.

He breathed.

He felt the gravity of it move through him — not fear, not urgency, but the specific weight of a man who understood exactly what was coming and had already calculated every variable. He needed power. Not the power he had now, which was considerable. He needed the kind of power that would let him move directly — not through the commoner’s tunnel, not through the VIP gate that would deposit him in the main world with modest ceremony — but through the route he had chosen.

Directly toward the demon realm.

Cutting everything else away.

No warmup. No beginner’s arc. No political theater of a hero’s arrival.

Straight to the throat of what needed killing.

But for that, he needed to be a fortress first. And he knew where to build the walls.

He breathed out slowly.

"Go wear your clothes," he said. "Everyone."