**Chapter 8 — The Alliance**
Several days passed, and with every major stop along the road, more noble youths joined the caravan. What had originally been a relatively small traveling party had gradually grown into a massive procession of carriages, servants, guards, and young nobles, with hundreds of them now making their way toward the Magus academies.
Ryan paid little attention to most of them. He had already established his own circle during the journey, with Serena and Elena remaining closest to him while several other nobles whom he knew or considered trustworthy had gradually become familiar companions.
However, the increasing number of people also meant that the caravan was becoming more difficult to manage. If something happened, relying on everyone to protect one another was unrealistic, and Ryan had been considering this problem for several days.
Eventually, he decided to form his own small alliance.
One evening, after the caravan had stopped and the surrounding camps had settled down, Ryan gathered the people he had selected. There were twenty members in total, thirteen girls and seven boys, who gathered around a campfire while Ryan stood before them.
Most already knew him, although a few watched with some nervousness. Ryan's reputation had spread throughout the caravan, and while his strength was well known, so was his strict attitude toward anyone who caused trouble for those under his protection.
Ryan looked around the group.
"We're going to be traveling together for quite some time. The farther we travel, the greater the possibility that we'll encounter danger. There are hundreds of nobles in this caravan, and if something happens, we can't expect everyone to protect everyone else."
Several people nodded.
"So I've decided to form a small alliance."
Ryan gestured toward the surrounding carriages.
"Our carriages will stay close together. We'll travel beside each other whenever possible and camp together when we stop, so if one of us encounters trouble, the others can provide assistance."
The arrangement was simple, but Ryan continued.
"I'll be the head of the alliance. For ordinary matters, I'll make a proposal and we'll vote. If at least half the members agree, the decision passes."
Ryan's eyes swept across the group.
"If someone cannot accept that arrangement, they can leave now."
Nobody moved.
"Good."
Ryan took out a spirit stone and held it between two fingers.
"Every member will also deposit one spirit stone with me."
A few people looked surprised.
"If someone is expelled from the alliance, they lose their spirit stone. If they remain with us until we reach the academy, I'll return it."
Ryan calmly explained the reason.
"This is to prevent someone from deliberately sabotaging the alliance after becoming dissatisfied with a decision. If you have nothing to lose, there is little reason to respect the rules."
The nobles thought about it. One spirit stone was hardly an unbearable price, and nobody wanted to be the person who caused trouble and lost it.
"I agree."
Another voice quickly followed.
"So do I."
One after another, the others agreed, and Ryan nodded.
"Then the alliance is established."
The members began introducing themselves, and Ryan quickly gained a clearer understanding of the group's strength.
Among the seven boys, only a few possessed meaningful fighting ability. Ryan was naturally the strongest, while the second was Leon, the son of a baron who had only recently become a Knight.
Leon's status among the nobles was actually rather awkward. His family was barely wealthy enough to afford the expenses of entering a Magus academy, so the royal family had made him an offer. If Leon successfully protected the princess during the journey, Princess Isabella would decide whether to sponsor his academy expenses after they arrived.
Until then, he was largely isolated from the other nobles, and even the princess rarely spoke with him. Ryan, however, had always treated him normally.
The other two boys with reasonable fighting ability were Adrian and Marcus. Neither had reached the Knight realm, but both were considerably stronger than ordinary youths.
The remaining three boys were another matter. They were spoiled nobles who had been allowed into the alliance primarily because they came from the same kingdom as several other members, and their fighting ability was poor. In fact, the weakest girl in the alliance could probably defeat any of them.
Ryan didn't particularly care. They could still contribute by following orders.
The thirteen girls were considerably more impressive. Serena had recently advanced to the Knight realm, while Ryan was stronger than all of them and Princess Isabella was the second strongest after him. Her personal guard, Leon, was the third strongest Knight, followed by Serena as the fourth.
The others had not yet become Knights, although several were already preparatory Knights and had received proper training. Overall, the alliance's fighting strength was surprisingly good for a group of young nobles.
Still, Ryan understood the real situation.
The group was held together by him.
Without his presence, it was quite possible that these twenty people would eventually begin arguing among themselves.
Ryan glanced toward the girls.
Serena was already his woman, as was Elena, and both were sitting relatively close to him. Several other girls had also gradually become increasingly interested in him, among them Clara, Maria, Lydia, and Vivienne, whom Ryan had already begun considering as future partners.
He had also noticed the growing attention of Princess Isabella.
At first, she had merely been curious about him, but after watching Ryan establish the alliance, calmly impose rules, and naturally take command of twenty nobles, her attitude had clearly changed. She now sat beside him, occasionally exchanging glances with Ryan, and whenever their eyes met, a faint smile appeared on her lips.
Ryan returned it.
He had always possessed considerable charisma, and his appearance and strength only made it more effective.
Getting into a girl's heart really isn't that difficult.
The alliance quickly became more relaxed once the formal discussion ended, and the young nobles continued talking around the fire. Several girls repeatedly invited Ryan to sit beside them, and he naturally accepted some of their invitations.
Serena eventually sat beside him, with Elena joining them shortly afterward, while Clara and Maria remained nearby. Ryan could feel the atmosphere becoming increasingly lively.
Adrian, however, seemed to have eyes only for one person.
Lydia.
Marcus was in much the same situation, with his attention constantly drawn toward Vivienne.
Ryan had already noticed that both boys had developed obvious crushes on those two girls. Unfortunately for them, neither Lydia nor Vivienne seemed particularly interested in returning their feelings, as their attention was usually directed toward Ryan instead.
Lydia occasionally leaned closer to him when speaking, while Vivienne was even more direct, often finding excuses to touch his arm or sit beside him.
Ryan naturally noticed every detail.
He also noticed Adrian watching.
At one point, Lydia leaned against Ryan while laughing at something he had said, so Ryan casually placed an arm around her shoulders. Then, slowly, his hand began to drift lower, sliding down her side until it rested on her thigh.
Adrian's eyes followed the movement, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing.
Ryan's fingers began to caress Lydia's thigh through her dress, moving in slow, deliberate strokes from her knee upward, then back down. Lydia's breath hitched slightly, her laughter fading into a soft intake of breath as she felt his touch, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned more heavily against him, her own hand coming to rest on his chest.
Adrian's fingers tightened around his cup, his knuckles whitening, but he remained silent.
Ryan continued the casual conversation with the others, his hand steadily working its way higher up Lydia's thigh with each pass. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric, feel her muscles tensing as his fingers traced patterns on her inner thigh.
When his hand finally slipped between her thighs, pressing against the sensitive juncture there, Lydia gasped softly, her legs instinctively closing around his hand. Ryan didn't withdraw—instead, he pressed more firmly, his middle finger finding the seam of her dress and pressing against her core through the fabric.
Adrian shot to his feet, his face flushed with anger and jealousy. "Lord Ryan, perhaps you should—"
Ryan turned his head slowly, his gaze cold and commanding. "Should what, Adrian?"
Adrian froze, his mouth opening and closing. He looked at Lydia, who had buried her face in Ryan's shoulder, her body trembling not with fear but with arousal. She made no move to escape Ryan's touch—if anything, she pressed closer.
"I..." Adrian's voice failed him. He looked around at the others, but no one seemed inclined to intervene. Ryan's dominance was absolute, and Lydia was clearly willing.
Ryan held Adrian's gaze for a long moment, his hand still between Lydia's thighs, feeling her wetness seeping through her dress, feeling her subtle rocking against his fingers. Then he smiled, a predator's smile. "Sit down, Adrian. We're having a pleasant evening."
Adrian sat, his face burning with humiliation, his hands shaking as he gripped his cup.
Ryan returned his attention to Lydia, but he didn't push further. He slowly withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his nose and inhaling deeply, his eyes locked on Adrian's. Lydia's scent was sweet and musky, and Ryan allowed Adrian to see exactly what he had done—to know that Ryan had marked her, claimed her, and would fuck her properly when they were alone.
He licked his fingers slowly, deliberately, tasting her essence. "Delicious," he murmured, just loud enough for Adrian to hear.
Lydia's face was crimson, but she didn't move away. She stayed pressed against him, her body hot and yielding.
Later, Vivienne approached Ryan and sat beside him with a bright smile, her hip pressing against his.
"Ryan, you're ignoring me."
"Am I?"
"You've spent so much time talking to everyone else."
Ryan laughed. "Then what should I do?"
Vivienne moved closer, her hand resting on his thigh. "Talk to me."
Ryan didn't object. Instead, he put an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Vivienne gasped, her eyes widening, but she didn't resist. She settled against him, her back to his chest, her ass pressing against the hardening outline of his arousal.
Across the campfire, Marcus immediately became rigid, his eyes fixed on them.
Ryan noticed, his hands moving to Vivienne's hips, holding her firmly against him. He nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered something that made her giggle and squirm.
Then his hands began to move.
One remained at her hip, holding her in place, while the other slid up her thigh, beneath her skirts, finding her warm and already wet. Vivienne stiffened, her thighs clamping together in shame as she felt his fingers probing her most intimate place.
"Ryan," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Not here... everyone can see..."
"Let them see," Ryan murmured against her ear, his finger finding her entrance and pushing inside. "Let them know who you belong to."
Vivienne whimpered, her body tensing as he began to work his finger in and out of her tight heat. She tried to close her thighs, to hide what he was doing, but Ryan used his other hand to force her legs apart, keeping her open and exposed while he continued to finger her beneath her skirts.
Marcus's face was white with rage, his hands shaking as he watched Ryan's arm moving rhythmically, watched Vivienne's face contorting with pleasure she couldn't hide. But like Adrian, he did nothing. He couldn't. Ryan's authority was absolute, and Vivienne wasn't protesting—she was moaning, her hips rocking against Ryan's hand, her hands clutching at his arms for support.
Ryan added a second finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. He could feel her virgin barrier still intact, could feel her tightness gripping his digits. She would be tight, so tight around his cock when he finally took her.
The more he worked her, the more Marcus drank, cup after cup of wine, trying to drown his jealousy and helplessness. Ryan watched him over Vivienne's shoulder, his fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm, driving Vivienne toward the edge while her would-be suitor drank himself into oblivion.
"Please," Vivienne gasped, her head falling back against Ryan's shoulder, her body trembling. "Ryan, please... I'm going to..."
"Not yet," he commanded, his thumb finding her sensitive nub and rubbing cruel circles that made her cry out. "Not until I say."
Marcus stood unsteadily, his face flushed with alcohol and rage, but Adrian caught his arm, pulling him back down. The two simp boys sat together, drinking and watching helplessly as Ryan played with the objects of their affection, their impotence complete.
As the night wore on, Marcus finally succumbed to the wine, slumping against Adrian, who could barely keep him upright. Adrian himself was hardly better, his eyes glassy, his movements uncoordinated.
Ryan smiled, his decision made.
Vivienne would lose her virginity tonight. He would take her while her simps lay drunk and sleeping, unable to do anything but dream of what he was doing to her.
He withdrew his fingers from beneath her skirts, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean while Vivienne watched with dazed, hungry eyes. "Come," he said, lifting her easily and setting her on her feet. "Walk with me."
Vivienne followed him without question, her legs trembling, her body aching with unfulfilled need.
Ryan turned to find Princess Isabella watching him, her eyes dark with desire and something else—envy. She wanted his attention, wanted him to touch her as he had touched Lydia and Vivienne.
He extended his hand to her. "Join us, Princess."
Isabella rose immediately, her royal dignity forgotten in her need to be near him. She took his hand, and Ryan pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as he led both women away from the fire.
Leon watched them go, his expression unreadable.
He remembered the day Ryan had saved him from humiliation. The princess had made him kneel in the mud, had sat on his back like a horse while other nobles laughed, had even forced him to lick her boots clean in front of them all. He had been ready to die of shame when Ryan appeared, lifted him from the mud, and took the princess into her carriage for a private talk.
Since that day, Isabella had forgotten Leon existed. Her world had narrowed to Ryan alone—Ryan's voice, Ryan's touch, Ryan's approval. She no longer ordered Leon to kneel, no longer used him as furniture or entertainment. She simply ignored him, her eyes following Ryan wherever he went.
And Leon was grateful.
He watched now as Ryan led the princess and Vivienne into the shadows, his hands already roaming over both women's bodies, pulling them against him. The princess was moaning, her hands clutching at Ryan's shirt, while Vivienne pressed against his side, her face flushed with need.
Leon could have followed. He was supposed to protect the princess. But he didn't move.
Ryan was the only noble who had ever treated him with dignity. The others cursed him, spat at him, called him a dog behind his back. Even the princess had treated him worse than a servant. But Ryan had lifted him up, had spoken to him as an equal, had saved him from further humiliation.
If Ryan wanted to fuck the princess—and clearly, she wanted him to—Leon would not stop him. He would be happy for her to finally find someone worthy of her. And if that meant listening to her moans and screams of pleasure as Ryan claimed her, so be it.
He turned away, finding a place to sit and keep watch, ensuring no one would interrupt whatever Ryan was doing with the women he had chosen.
In the shadows, Ryan pressed Isabella against a carriage, his mouth claiming hers in a deep, dominating kiss while Vivienne clung to his back, her hands roaming over his chest. The princess yielded completely, her body soft and pliant, her moans swallowed by his lips.
Ryan's hands moved to her breasts, kneading them through her gown, his fingers finding her nipples and pinching until she cried out against his mouth. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts.
"Ryan," Isabella gasped, her royal composure shattered. "Please... I've wanted you for so long..."
"And you'll have me," he promised, his hand sliding up her skirt. "But not tonight. Tonight, I have other plans."
He turned to Vivienne, pulling her in front of him, his hands moving to her breasts as he had with the princess. "Tonight, this one loses her virginity. But you, Princess... you'll wait your turn. And when I finally take you, you'll beg for it."
Isabella whimpered, pressing against him, her hand finding his hardness through his trousers and stroking desperately. "I already beg," she whispered. "Please, Ryan... don't make me wait..."
He caught her wrist, stopping her, his eyes dark with promise. "Soon," he murmured, his free hand slipping between Vivienne's thighs to find her wet and ready. "But for now, watch. Watch what I do to her. Imagine it's you."
He led them deeper into the shadows, where the firelight couldn't reach, where the only sounds were the crackling of the campfire and the distant laughter of nobles who didn't know what their leader was doing in the darkness.
Tomorrow, Vivienne would walk differently. And when Adrian and Marcus woke with pounding headaches and vague memories of what they had witnessed, they would know that Ryan had won completely.
The alliance was his. The women were his. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.