Lazy Salvation The Marshal and His Mother

As Ashen approached his temporary lodging, the scale of what t him was almost incomprehensible.

Tents stretched in every direction until they blurred into haze at the horizon. Cookfires. Banners. The low, constant murmur of a million conversations happening at once, none of which had anything to do with him yet, all of which technically did.

He was still staring at it by the ti he reached his own tent, and the mont he stepped inside, he was t with a pleasant surprise.

“Alice~ you’re here.”

He had sensed soone inside, but he had never expected it to be his precious girl.

Without fanfare, he practically bounced to her side. The poor woman had barely turned to look at the newcors before she was engulfed in a warm hug.

A mont later, two big hands slipped downward and started shalessly groping her buttocks.

“You big goof. Stop this at once,” she said, trying to sound stern, though her voice softened before she could finish.

Not that her body had made any effort to resist in the first place.

“But I missed you, darling.”

“...This is not the ti,” she argued again, but after seeing Lucia smirking at her failed attempt, she could only conclude that she sounded coquettish at best.

“Hehe… on the contrary, dear… this is precisely the ti! This is all part of my preparations for your anchor, y’know. Heh.”

Alice rolled her eyes at that.

It had started right after he was done with Seraphine’s anchor. He began teasing her like that every now and then, each day. Not that he had not done so before, but his way of doing it had grown progressively more shaless, and… how could she put it? More creative.

From assaulting her in her dreams when she slept to simulating her with mana threads as she went about her day.

Things had beco increasingly lascivious, but Alice was not bothered by that. He was free to play with her body as he liked, after all.

What truly bothered her was the condition he had set: no release.

aning, no matter how much he pushed her, she was forbidden from orgasming, whether with his help or on her own.

She was only to co to him when she truly could not bear it anymore. But that condition was problematic for Alice, not because her tolerance for this kind of play was low, but quite the opposite…

Now, more than two months later, she could still ruthlessly rein in her lust whenever she wanted.

So sweet, sweet relief remained just out of reach.

That was why she had acted as she just had, when normally she would simply let him do as he pleased without a word. She knew he would only push her to the edge again and leave her stewing in her own heat.

Still, no matter what, she could never truly drive him away. Even when they fought in ways that would have broken apart any other couple a thousand tis over, she still let him have his way with her back then.

So what was a little edging play when she knew that it was ultimately for her own benefit?

Gradually, her thoughts drifted away. The war, the army, her duties, even Lucia—all of it faded from her mind.

All that remained were the rough hands kneading her ass with such fervor, and the overwhelming pleasure that followed.

In the back of her mind, she lanted how far this play had co, for her to be on the verge of orgasming just from having her ass kneaded by him…

Her eyes glazed over, her lips parted on their own, and her tongue lolled out as she gazed up at him, clutching his shirt for dear life.

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‘Close…’

‘Yes…’

‘More…’

‘Hngg…’

Just as her vision began to whiten and euphoria threatened to swallow her whole…

‘Ah.’

Everything dispersed all at once.

Chu~

A perfectly innocent kiss landed on her nose before Ashen pulled away.

“You’ve got a magnificent ass, love, as always.”

Ashen nodded to himself before walking away and taking a seat directly opposite Lucia, who was watching her tortured sister with great relish.

“So? Not that I do not like it, in fact I love it, but why are you here?”

Alice closed her eyes for a mont and let out a long, shuddering breath before answering.

“As a Lust Pathwalker, I am strongest when I am beside my thralls, or in this case, my thrall.” She looked at him with a slight smile. “That cos before even my role as their weapon architect.”

“Is that so?” Ashen tried to play it cool, but the two won could still see the uncontrollable grin on his face. “Good… very good. Now, if only Seraphine were transferred to my army, it would be perfect.”

“Well, she is still in this Army Theater, so it is not out of the question,” Lucia remarked.

“True.” He folded his arms across his chest and bobbed his head once. “We need a very convincing excuse for that, though.”

“What excuse would my baby need~?”

It happened the way weather changed; not suddenly, exactly, but completely, a pressure settling over the camp that made every soldier within a hundred ters straighten and several drop into reflexive bows before they had even consciously registered why.

In front of him, inside the tent, he saw the completely priceless sight of his two lovers with their mouths hanging open in shock.

Ashen turned.

A woman stood a few feet away, golden hair catching the dim lamplight as if it were catching the sun. Her violet eyes swept the tent with mild interest.

The pressure lasted exactly as long as it took her to fix her gaze on him.

Then it vanished entirely, snuffed out like a candle, and Lola clasped both hands together with a delighted gasp.

“There’s my baby!”

“...Hi, Lola.”

She crossed the distance in an instant and threw both arms around him before he could decide whether dodging would be more or less embarrassing.

Behind them, he heard Alice’s voice, carefully neutral, say sothing to Lucia that sounded a great deal like should we be worried about additional competition?

“Look at you!” Lola pulled back just enough to study his face, beaming. “A Marshal already! My son, commanding an entire army, and he has not even finished growing into those shoulders yet.” She pinched his cheek lightly. “I’m so proud.”

“I’m not your—” Ashen sighed. There was no version of this conversation where that sentence had ever once landed. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Have you been eating? You look thinner. Are they feeding you properly out here?” She did not wait for an answer, already smoothing down the front of his coat, briskly efficient, almost as if she was checking laundry. “And sleeping? A Marshal needs his rest, baby. You can’t run an army on no sleep and worry alone.”

“I’m fine, Lola. Really.”

“Mm-hm.” She did not look convinced, but she let it go.

Ashen was about to question what she was doing here, but another fact took his attention away.

‘I’m looking at her… and I’m fine. Kinda?’

He could feel his body heating, and lust eagerly flitting about in his head, but it was nothing like the first ti he had gazed upon her.

At least now, he could look at her without having to recite poetry the mont he tried to open his mouth.

Ashen glanced to the other two present in the tent and breathed a sigh of relief to see that they looked fine aside from the predictable shock.

‘At least she is not that willful.’

In fact, all the two spectators could see was a vague silhouette, contrary to him.

As he focused back on her, he noticed her expression sober just slightly, the playfulness dimming without disappearing entirely.

“I heard about your assignnt.” She looked back at him, and the warmth in her eyes bore sothing steadier underneath it. “The vanguard. As well as the point of everything.”

“Yeah.” Ashen rubbed the back of his neck. “Apparently, I was ‘the answer,’ according to Cornelia.”

“Of course you were.” Lola’s smile returned, softer this ti. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from his forehead, the gesture absurdly maternal coming from soone whose re presence had just made an entire camp bow without being asked. “But… that look on your face. You’re worried.”

“A little,” he admitted. “It’s a lot of people to be responsible for. They don’t even know who they are depending on.”

“They’ll know you soon enough.” She tapped his nose lightly, drawing a surprised blink out of him. “And until then...”

Her hands settled on his shoulders, and for just a mont, the warmth in her expression sharpened, finally matching the expression of one who had walked this continent for two hundred years and outlasted every threat it had thrown at her.

“As long as Mom is here,” she said, “you don’t have to be afraid of anything, baby.”

Then, just as quickly, the expression vanished, replaced by her usual bright smile.

“Now.” She clapped her hands together. “Has my daughter co to see you yet? She’s been so busy organizing the dical corps, I swear that girl works harder than anyone I’ve ever raised—”

“Lola, I really need to—”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t keep you! I just wanted to see my favorite Marshal before the big march.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaving him faintly stunned, then turned with a swish of golden hair. “Behave yourselves, you two!” she called back toward the tent, where Alice’s expression remained admirably composed despite everything. “And feed my son properly!”

And then she was gone, the pressure briefly returning and vanishing again in the sa instant, leaving Ashen standing alone in front of his two lovers with a kiss mark he was fairly sure was still glowing faintly on his forehead.

{Well,} Old Ashen offered, after a respectful pause. {At least she has confidence in you.}

‘...Yeah.’ Ashen reached up and rubbed at his forehead, the warmth lingering there longer than it should have. ‘Yeah, I guess they do.’