The Duke of Juna: A New Threat

"Faster, Emil!" The Duke ordered to Emil, his aide.

"Yes, Sir!" Emil answered.

Karl, the Duke of Juna, couldn't believe the news when his scouts brought him the information. His own mother had been captured and sold as a slave; now he was racing to the auction.

Not to save his mother.

To take revenge. It was his mother who abandoned him when he was just three; he was sold to a bandit camp, trained to be a ruthless killer. It was not until King Frederick's squires stormed the camp that he was freed. Now he was a powerful knight, adept in the arcane arts. After routing numerous orcish raids and undead assaults, and winning a decisive victory at Juna that turned the tide of the war, he was elevated to nobility.

The 24-year old Duke arrived on time. The commonfolk were enthusiastic about the auction; a young slave's price (about 400-600 silver) was worth three years' a farmer's income, but an older slave could be sold for cheaper.

"100 silver!" one of the men offered.

"150 silver!"

"175 silver!"

"5000 silver!" the Duke roared.

Everyone was stunned and silenced, including the black-haired woman sold. 5000 silver pieces was a high price; for that much money one could purchase a minor noble slave. Furthermore, to think that the Duke of Juna, an accomplished noble, a mage considered among the top ten in the entire continent, not just the realm, would come in person to a backwater slave auction was ludicrous.

Obviously, nobody could, or would for that matter, top the Duke's offer. "Regina Wilter, sold for 5000 pieces of silver to Sir Karl Kray, Duke of Juna," declared the auctioneer with a shaky voice.

As his squires escorted his newly acquired slave to one of his two carriages, the Duke turned to Emil. "What is her crime?" Per the laws of all civilised nations (the human Kingdom of Calva, the elven Kingdom of Wain, and the various human and elven settlements across the continent), one could only become a slave if they commited a crime; a serious one. Of course, should one move to the south, where the orcish tribes and necromancers resided, the laws did not apply. Nonetheless, ever since the orcs and the undead were defeated four years ago in the Third Great War, no man or elf dared approach those lands. The largest threat for peace and stability was rebellions by local nobles, as well as bandits.

"Banditry, Sir," the man with brown, curly hair answered. "She leads a bandit unit of twenty men and has managed to raze one of Calva's village to the ground."

"I see."

The village elder approached the Duke. The old man bowed sharply. "I welcome the Duke of Juna to our humble village."

"I appreciate the warm welcome," the tall Duke answered with a smile. "Is there anything to report, Elder?"

"Ah, the usual banditry, Your Grace," the elder rejoined. "Nothing our local militia could not handle. Although...." The elder stopped for a while.

"What is it, Elder?"

"I am not sure if this is noteworthy, Sir, but sometimes, we are also attacked by a few orcs or animated skeletons."

The Duke's eyes jolted out. "That is certainly a reason for worry," he said. "I will dispatch a few troops from my keep. They should be able to trace them. I suspect a rogue orc band or a lone necromancer."

"That would be most pleasant, Your Grace."

The Duke set out from the village back to his manor. "Emil, order a group of twenty men to move to the village. Track the bandits, undead, and orcs."

"Understood, Sir."

As their chariot moved across the Duke's realm, the Sun set. His first chariot that carried his slave had arrived. As night fell and his chariot neared the keep, the Duke ordered his charioteer to stop. "Halt!"

Out of nowhere, the Duke and his companions were attacked by arrows. The Duke reached for his charioteer, pulling him inside. "Stay inside," he ordered.

"Your Grace! It's dangerous! Let us handle this!" one of his squires cried out, brandishing his sword. The Duke paid no heed and emerged out of the carriage. Almost immediately, arrows swarmed him. He conjured a shield of ice, parrying the arrows.

He fired a powerful fireball at some surrounding trees. The assailants were felled. His squires checked while he and his companions returned to the manor. Such assassination attempts often happened; although, as the Duke built his reputation, they became rare.

The manor's servants scrambled to prepare a bath for the Duke. "It's been four years," the Duke mumbled in his hot tub, "no, no. It must be a single necromancer. No way the Necro-Orcish alliance could rebuild itself."

"Excuse us, Master. May we help you?" The Duke had over five hundred slaves; some he purchased, most he acquired as gifts or spoils. He usually gifted his male slaves to other nobles to curry favours or sold them for cold, hard cash; he does keep a few around. Meanwhile, his female slaves were worked in brothels he owned or given to his soldiers or contacts. He did personally make use of some of them before handing them over to the brothels or to the soldiers.

However, there were two cherished slaves, exclusive for his use. One was an elven high priestess who supported the undead, Jessica: a blonde, slender slave with fair skin, a trait of elvenkind. She was given by the Elven King four years ago, after the War ended. The other one was Isabelle, a member of the royal family who rebelled two years ago, striking a pact with a necromancer that rendered her immortal. She was dark skinned with auburn hair; as a warrior, she had a bulky body yet rather small breasts. After weeks of whipping, torturing, and humiliating, their resistance broke. As with all slaves, they wore a collar and a tattoo. Their tattoo was made with rare gold ink, shaped like the Duke of Juna's family crest.

"What service do you desire of us, Master?" Jessica asked while rubbing the Duke's shoulders. Isabelle washed his feet.

"Just wash me clean," he ordered. "There's a new slave I want to use today."

"Ooo!" both Isabelle and Jessica gasped.

"Who is it, Master? Which noble?" Isabelle asked enthusiastically.

"She's not a noble," he said.

"She must be very pretty," Jessica said.

"Decent," he said. "But I have a vendetta against her."

The slaves nodded. "May we watch, Master?" Isabelle asked.

"Not this time," he said. He rose from his bath.

The Duke wore his coat and headed to the dungeon. "Have you prepared her?" the Duke of Juna asked his slaver. She, alongside her hired slavers, was the one who trained almost all of the Duke's slaves save the ones reserved for him.

"Yes, Your Grace, I have."

Karl entered the dungeon cell. His mother was tied to the ceiling. Having given birth to multiple children, she was rather old; perhaps 46 or 47. He walked around. Regina looked at the floor.

"If you're going to rape me, just do it," she said, resigning her fate.

"Look at me," the Duke said. Reluctantly, Regina did so.

"Do you recognize me?" the Duke asked.

"Karl Kray, Duke of Juna."

"So you don't recognize me," the Duke said. "You had a son whom you sold to bandits when he was three years old."

"How-" Then Regina realized it. The Duke smiled.

"Son!" she squealed, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes.

That hope was vanquished immediately when the Duke slapped her. "So now I'm your son, huh? I guess I wasn't when I was three."

"No, wait!"

The Duke slapped her again. He displayed his massive cock. "Suck it, whore."

"I-I...."

"For 1500 gold pieces, I expect better." The Duke propelled himself forward. Regina had no choice but to let her throat be gagged by her son's cock.

"Slut. Whore. Bitch."

"Mmmmh!"

The Duke pulled out his cock. He walked around and soon his member was in front of Regina's cunt. "W-wait! We're still related by blood!"

"So what?" The Duke coldly asked. In one thrust, all of his cock was inside, breaking through Regina's womb. "You may be my mother, but you are my property now."

"Nnngh!" Even Regina had to concede to the girth and length of the Duke's cock. Her wet and hairy pussy, once thought to be loose, was filled to the brim. She squirted again and again. The Duke ejaculated inside of her. His cum burst out of her womb.

"You're my slave now, understood, Regina?"

"Y-yes...." Regina broke down crying for a while, but she resigned to her fate at last.

"Yes what?" The Duke whipped Regina's ample bosoms.

"Yes, Master."

The Duke was yet to finish. He brandished his cock once more, this time preparing to use Regina's backdoor. "I-it won't fit."

"It will." With fiery energy, he thrusted inside of Regina's ass. "Now this is a decent hole."

"Mmmh!" There was no boundary between mother and son. The Duke slammed his massive shaft inside of his mother's tight ass. His cock grinded against its walls brutally, and Regina came.

"Tell me, why did you sell me?" the Duke asked while pinching his slave's nipples. Regina came again instantly.

"Uh-ah! Ah! Y-your sisters are sick. Our family was poor...."

A strong slap landed on Regina's buttcheeks. "You're a liar, Regina, and a bad one at that," the Duke said with a smile. "You gambled away all of your savings and were deep in debt."

For a while, there was no sound except for the feral mating noises as the Duke was balls deep inside of Regina. "Answer me," he said coldly, slapping her ass.

"H-how do you know?"

The Duke laughed, momentarily stopped thrusting. "I have spies and scouts across the continent," he said. "Do you really think I'd not know?"

"Please! I'm sorry!" she squealed as the Duke continued pounding her ass while pulling her black hair. "I was desperate! I'm sorry! Please, please stop! I'm your mother!"

"Silence, whore!" the Duke barked. He ejaculated, filling Regina's ass with white cum. He cut off the rope that bounded Regina, who fell to the ground immediately.

"I have a task for you," the Duke said. He threw her a large bottle; perhaps enough for one and a half litres. "Fill that bottle with sperm in three days. If you don't, well... let's just say there will be consequences."

"S-sperm? How can I?"

"You will see how," the Duke said. He whistled, calling the slaver. "Arrange her lodgings."

"Of course, Your Grace. And her rank?"

"Class IV."

The Duke of Juna left. Without warning, the slaver stamped Regina's flesh with hot iron. "Aw!"

The slaver attached a collar. "Follow me."

"Can't I get some clothes?"

"Class IV slaves have to be naked," the masked man said.

The Duke of Juna had divided his slaves into four classes: Class I were headed by Jessica and Isabelle, and another handful of his favourites; they wore rare silk underwear. Class II were reserved for lesser nobles under his command as well as honored guests; they were given tunic bra and panties. Class III were for officers and soldiers; they were allowed to cover their genitals, but breasts remained bare. Class IV were sent to brothels; they were not allowed clothes.

Meanwhile, the Duke of Juna had called for a meeting between the dukedom's top officials: his court mage, Alexandra, commander of his 7000-strong army, Sir Heart, his aide Emil, and his Governor Gaul. "I have analyzed the corpses," Alexandra said.

"What are they? Orcs? Undead?" the young Heart asked. The Duke of Juna raised his hand, asking for silence.

"Neither... and both, in a sense. They are undead orcs."

"Undead orcs?" Governor Gaul wondered.

"Yes. Reanimated orcs."

The Duke of Juna fell to his seat. He was sure that his foe was a lone necromancer or a small band of orcs; perhaps now he had to fight both. "Can you track them?"

"Yes. I suspect they emerged from the Xanadu Forests." The Duke of Juna's territory was located in the westernmost part of the Kingdom. To its west was the Xanadu Forests; a wild land populated by numerous beasts.

A faint smile formed on the Duke's lips. "I will go there myself," he said. "I have a friend there. Alexandra, you will accompany me."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Meanwhile, a couple tens of kilometres away, the slaver, alongside two guards, threw Regina into a prison cell. "Hey! At least give me a cloth!"

"You should be grateful to be used personally by the Duke," the slaver said.

"Hey!"

"Don't bother. It won't work," Regina's cellmate said. She was a tall and slender girl with almost no tits and hairy pussy. The blonde girl was sweaty and she was wiping cum off her breasts and cunt with a handkerchief.

The prison itself was rather small, but enough for two futons side-by-side as well as a bucket for their piss and feces.

"Who are you?"

"Felice, your cellmate," she said. "And I suggest just accepting the condition. What's your crime, anyway?"

"I...." Regina was silent for a while. "So we are just imprisoned here?"

Felice let out a dry laughter. "Oh, I wish so. We sleep at ten and wake up at six. We have one hour to eat and take a short bath, then we will go downstairs to be gangraped for six hours straight. One hour for rest and lunch, and then four hours of service. Then we can rest in our cell. In fact, I was just back from the brothel."

Regina slumped down on her futon. "You haven't answered my question," Felice said.

Regina sighed. "Banditry."

"Impossible," Felice said. "Well, unless you lead at least 50 bandits. I heard that's the minimum to be thrown to Class IV."

"I'm his mother," Regina said bitterly.

"Who?"

"The Duke of Juna's."

"Pfft. What a terrible liar."

"No. It's true," Regina said. "I'm serious."

Felice was silent for a while. "It's true that the Duke is infamously not from a well-established noble family... it's also true that he always avoids talking about his family in interviews with newspapers."

"That's because I sold him to vagabonds when he was three years old to cover my gambling debts. He wants revenge, and how could I blame him?"

"So the sperm dripping from your ass and pussy is your son's?"

"Yes."

"Must be hard for you."

"I deserve it," Regina said.

"You know, you better stay away from the others. There are really some bad personalities out there; you know, chain murderers, illegal slavers...."

"What about you?"

"Me? I'm just a thief. It just so happens that the Thief Guild comissioned me to steal the Duke of Juna's Ruby Blade. I should have not taken the deal, it was hopeless from the start. Should have asked Natalie to take over instead."

"Natalie? Wait... short, silver hair, with a mole below her eye?" Regina barked.

"Yup. Why?"

"That's my daughter!"

"What? What happened then?"

Regina shrugged. "Our family just sort of fell apart."

Regina just happened to remember the bottle she was given. She put the bottle next to her futon. "He told me to fill it with semen in three days."

"Wow, that's a tall order. That's so unlike the Duke. He's usually rather kind."

"Kind?"

"Well, other nobles don't ever bother giving slaves a private cell like this. Some of my friends who worked for the Thief Guild are forced to mate with animals. Many become pregnant and are forced to abort the baby using primitive methods; at least here we are provided a monthly barenness potion."

"He must hate me a lot now. I'm such a bad mother," Regina said. "Then I suppose the only thing I could be now is a good whore for him."

"Chill, Regina," Felice said. "We're all trash."

The Xanatu Forest was wild in every sense of the word. Not only was it difficult to traverse, it also housed numerous strange creature. In particular, satyrs, goat-like humanoids, and centaurs, which looked like a human-horse hybrid, roamed the woods.

But the Duke of Juna and his court mage knew the danger posed by them paled in comparison to one being. Anna Valentine, a half-elf, was the last and the most powerful keeper of the ancient magic of golemmancy as well as master of nature manipulation. She commanded loyalty of the satyrs and the centaurs. During the zenith of the Third War, she sided with the Alliance, bringing forth a force of 20,000 satyrs and centaurs, and 4,000 golems; creatures of human proportions that were made of wood. They were rather slow, but possessed powerful attacks and were very durable. She also had a few dozen druids at her disposal. Many historians argued that her entry to the war was the decisive winning factor, rather than the heroic actions of the Duke of Juna, who routed 50,000 undead with just 2,000 men in the City of Juna.

It was Anna Valentine who taught the Duke the secrets of immortality. The Duke, 24 years old, looked as young as he was four years ago. Since then many jealous pursuers had searched for Anna for immortality; they were promptly destroyed, either by her allies, the Duke, or the powerful golemmancer herself. Of course, there were an immortality elixir; yet its price meant only the King could afford it.

The two rode on war horses, traversing the woods. It was then that Anne revealed herself. She was a tall person, her brown hair covering part of her face. "Duke of Juna," she addressed the noble, "just because our realms border on one another, does not mean you can trespass."

"Pardon my intrusion, Anna," the Duke said, careful not to draw the ire of the most powerful mage in the continent, "bands of orcish undead are assaulting my realm's borders. My court mage tracked them to your forests."

"Hmm... orcish undeads. So I should have done that raid sooner than later after all."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are right, Karl Kray. We are hunting them day and night. We have spotted a massive camp and are planning to attack tonight."

"Can my court mage and I join you?" the Duke asked. "Your enemies are also my enemies."

"Sure."

Night fell. Thousands of centaurs, armed with spears and bows, as well as sword and axe-wielding satyrs, accompanied by hundreds of golems, marched to the massive camp. The Duke drew his Ruby Blade, a prize of war he captured from a fallen necromancer. Alexandra held her white staff tightly.

"Fire!" Anna ordered, her centaurs raining down a shower of arrows upon the camp. In response, the undead orcs emerged. The centaurs charged with spears, cutting down many of those creatures. Suddenly, more creatures appeared from the camp. They were red skinned and looked like a human otherwise if not for their sharp claws.

"What are they?" Alexandra gasped.

"Demons," the golemmancer rejoined. "Drats."

The Duke was sweating bullets. Ghosts and spirits had inhabited the continent since time immemorial, but demons were another matter. A small pack of six or seven, summoned by a desperate human or elf who struck a pact with the otherworldly powers, could easily overrun a village.

"Who summoned them?" the Duke muttered.

As if answering the question, two powerful demons arrived: one succubus and one hell knight. In response, the Duke and Valentine spurred into action while their army stormed the camp.

"Heheheh. Humans...." The succubi licked her lips.

"Die, demon!" The Duke pointed his blade at the succubus, emitting powerful orange fire. The succubus breathed flames, unleashing a sea of red fire that blocked the Duke's assault.

"I'm weak against fire, so I'll take on the knight," Valentine said. She moved to the left flank, the knight following her.

"Alexandra, back off. This is too much for you," the Duke said.

"But, Sir! I am your court mage!" Alexandra protested.

"Infernal Hell!" the succubus unleashed a fire dragon, charging straight at the duo.

The Duke raised a thick ice barrier, barely parrying the assault. He sent a storm of ice blades at the demon, who swiftly avoided them all. "Go!"

The demon dashed forward, sword in hand. The Duke exchanged blows with her before she landed a fiery kick to the chest. The succubus swiftly pulled his pants down. "That's quite big. I'll enjoy sucking the life out of you." A succubus was capable of siphoning off a target's life force via sex.