Hollow Crown: SSS-Ranked Godslayer’s Rise

The morning light spilled gently through the curtains.

Ethan stirred, his eyes opening to the warmth pressed against both sides of him. Two naked bodies—soft and curled like kittens—were nestled in his arms. Lirael clung to him even in her sleep, while Sylvie's breath came in light, steady puffs against his chest.

He watched them for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The chaos of last night's "strenuous activities" lingered in the air—warmth, the faint perfume of sweat and skin, and a satisfaction that reached deeper than the flesh.

Carefully, Ethan brushed his lips against each of their foreheads, lingering just long enough for them to stir but not wake. Then, easing himself free, he padded across the chamber. The sound of water splashing soon followed as he slipped into the bath.

---

On the bed, Sylvie's lashes fluttered open first. The memory of last night immediately rushed to her cheeks, painting them crimson. She turned to see Lirael stretching lazily beside her.

"B-big sister…" Sylvie's voice trembled, embarrassment woven into every word. "Does it… always feel that amazing when you do… that with Master? I mean—he was so rough with you. I thought you'd be hurt, but you were looking happy the whole time…"

Lirael blinked once, then let out a soft laugh, rolling onto her side to face her. She reached out and tucked a strand of golden hair behind Sylvie's ear.

"Oh, Silvie…" she teased, voice with amusement. "Rough? That was only a taste. Trust me—when Ethan loses himself like that, it feels even better. You'll understand soon enough."

Sylvie swallowed hard, her heart skipping. The thought of being the focus of that same intensity made her thighs press together.

"M-Master's thing…" she whispered, barely audible, "…it's… exceptionally big, isn't it?"

Lirael's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Mm. Bigger than before, actually." She stretched lazily, as if recalling the memory in her body. "Not that I'd ever complain."

Sylvie tilted her head, curiosity burning through the haze of embarrassment. "Bigger than before? What do you mean?"

"Oh—you didn't know?" Lirael blinked, realizing the girl had been left out of the loop. "He evolved into a High Human the day before we brought you in."

Sylvie sat up straighter, eyes wide. "H-High Human?! What's that supposed to be? I've never heard of…" Her words trailed, then lit with realization. "Wait—like High Elves! The superior race of elves. So, Master is… a High Human? That's why he's so strong. That's why he looks so…" Her face flamed. "…so good too."

Her eyes narrowed suddenly as she looked at her sister. "Wait a minute. Don't tell me—you're a High Elf too?"

Lirael only smirked knowingly and gave a single, graceful nod. "Sharp you are. But keep that to yourself, understood? Not everyone can be trusted with such things."

Sylvie bobbed her head quickly, lips pressing shut as though she'd just swallowed a secret too big for her. Suddenly, the power behind Ethan and Lirael attacks made sense.

The sound of the bath door creaking open drew their attention. Ethan stepped out, steam clinging to his bare shoulders, water sliding in rivulets down his chest. Sylvie's voice caught in her throat.

"M-Master… good morning." She ducked her head so fast that her hair whipped about her face, before scurrying toward the washroom to join Lirael for her own bath.

Ethan blinked after her, raising a brow at her flustered retreat. Then, running a towel across his hair, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Well," he muttered under his breath, smirk tugging at his lips, "guess it's time to figure out what kind of trouble we're getting into today."

---

Moonlight cut across Veyron Thanmyr's study. The small crystal at the table pulsed, and Raenor Thalmyr's projection snapped was into being.

"There a man claiming to be the master of that girl?" Raenor's voice was clipped.

Veyron kept his posture composed, though his fingers curled at the edge of the table. "Yes, Father. He calls himself Ethan Cross. I'm certain Lirael orchestrated it—she's woven herself in it. So we cannot simply compel her back legitimately."

Raenor's eyes darkened. "There was mention of a crack opening near his location. Use it. Get in, find the opening, and kill the man. Bring the girl back. I authorize any measure necessary."

A draft moved through the room; the crystal's light threw Veyron's face into stark relief. He allowed himself a small, careful smile. "Understood. Though I'd prefer not to dirty my hands. There's a convenient scapegoat I can use."

"Who?" The projection's patience thinned.

"Kent Valtross," Veyron said, the name sliding out with cold ease. "Eldest son of the Valtrosses. If something happens to him, they'll swallow his fall and not press too hard since he is a gone case. And If Ethan suffers at my hands, the scene will satisfy the family's nerves of humiliation without drawing unwanted scrutiny."

Raenor's expression shifted into approval. "Good. You lost five hundred gold to this man, did you not? Make him pay back far more than that. I'll provide funds if you need them. I want suffering and humiliation — make it thorough. Remember. No one escapes when they humiliate our family."

Veyron's grin sharpened. "I will see it done. I'll pull every coin from him through whatever means necessary though they will will be not simply coins"

The crystal's light dimmed as the projection cut. The room settled into silence, the only sound the faint ticking of a distant clock. Veyron breathed out slowly, tasting the afterimage of orders like iron on his tongue.

He stepped to the window and looked out over the sleeping city, lamplight glimmering like distant coins. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper, meant for no one but the night. "Just you wait, Ethan Cross. Humiliate me once, and I will collect everything you hold dear."

He let the threat hang in the moonlit air before turning back to his plans — precise and patient for the retribution he had been promised.

---

A/N:

Summons level:

Nyxfang(Alpha wolf) - level 37

Seloria(Female wolf) - level 28

Soldiers:

1 - level 19

2 - level 18

3 - level 18

4 - level 17

5 - level 15

6 - level 15

7 - level 15

8 - level 14

9 - level 15

10 - level 15

Thier stats equals that of thier corresponding awakened individual max stat after stat allocation in proportionate distribution.

For example a level 15 soldier is a human undead. So 15 × 8.5 [level upgrade stats(4.5) + level up unallocated stats(4)] ≈ 128 stats distributed equally along their attributes.

For different races its different but nearing the same with difference of 1 - 3 stats more of less.

Dragons and superior races are differently scaled. It will be explained as they appear in future chapters.