The Demon's Breeding Ground

Bruce looked at the "Demon Princess" before him, who had stepped forward on her own, her eyes blazing with fervor, and instantly understood all her intentions.

Ra's al Ghul's final contingency? Using his own daughter to bind the new king, ensuring the League of Assassins' so-called "legitimacy" through the continuation of bloodlines. What a cunning old fox. Even in death, he had to place one final piece on the board.

Bruce's gaze brazenly swept over Talia. Her breathtaking face, a perfect blend of Eastern and Western beauty, was filled with complex emotions—heartfelt worship for the strong, relief at her father's death, uncertainty about the future, but most of all, an undisguised, primal desire and submission.

Still... I don't dislike this arrangement. Bruce sneered inwardly. Talia herself is a capable and ambitious woman. Completely controlling her means controlling one of the most important factions within the League of Assassins, saving me a great deal of trouble. And Damian Wayne...

At the thought of that name, Bruce's gaze deepened.

The rebellious yet incredibly powerful fifth Robin from my previous life. If I can educate him myself, he may become a sharper, more useful sword than Deathstroke. A sword... that belongs only to me, Bruce Wayne.

As Bruce pondered, Talia had already walked up to him. Ignoring the blood of her father that had yet to dry on his body, she raised her snow-white neck and gazed at him with an almost worshipful look.

Then, she slowly raised her hand and undid the ties of her luxurious exotic robe.

The silky fabric slid down the alluring curves of her body, revealing a flawless figure seemingly carved from the finest ivory. Bathed in the flickering firelight, her skin gleamed with a seductive luster, every inch brimming with the beauty of strength and flexibility. Her full, firm breasts, flat, toned abdomen, and long, straight legs filled with explosive power... all spoke of the superior bloodline she possessed as the princess of the League of Assassins.

She stood naked before Bruce, without the slightest trace of shame in her eyes. Instead, they were filled with pride and sacrificial devotion.

"My father, Ra's al Ghul, gave me one final order before he foresaw that he might be defeated and die." Talia's voice carried the faintest tremble, yet her tone was incomparably resolute. "He ordered me that, no matter who became the new Demon's Head, I... had to bear him the strongest heir. I had to use my body to continue the League's bloodline."

Hearing this, Bruce's lips curled into an amused smile. He said nothing, merely extending the hand still stained with Ra's al Ghul's blood and gently pinching Talia's smooth chin, forcing her to raise her head and meet his eyes.

"So, this is an order?" Bruce's voice was low and hoarse.

"No." A flicker of delirium passed through Talia's eyes. She could feel the warmth of her father lingering on Bruce's fingertips, and it gave her a twisted thrill. "This is my honor, my... king."

"Very good."

Bruce had received the answer he wanted. He abruptly released her, then stepped forward and swept Talia's scorching body into his arms!

(One hundred thousand words omitted; imagine the rest yourself.)

After reaching their peaks several times, the sound of panting in the great hall gradually subsided. Like a languid cat, Talia lay weakly atop Bruce's broad, solid chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat. The flush of climax still lingered on her face, while the pride belonging to a princess had been utterly crushed, leaving only complete submission and infatuation with the man beneath her.

She extended a slender finger and lightly traced the savage scars across Bruce's chest. In a lazy, nasal voice, she said, "The League is not a unified whole. Aside from the old retainers loyal to my father, there are several powerful branch leaders. They are entrenched around the world and were never completely convinced by my father's rule... You will need time to subdue them one by one."

Bruce stroked her smooth, silken back, feeling the astonishing resilience beneath his palm as an entirely new plan took shape in his mind.