[Report on the Death of the Fourth Campione, the Black Prince, Alec. Compilation of the Greenwich Assembly]
It is with both sorrow and apprehension that I make this report.
The death of the Fourth Campione, the Black Prince, Alexandre Gascoigne, has been confirmed as having occurred several days ago.
The question arises: who could possibly stand against such a terrifying existence as a Campione? A Heretic God, perhaps…?
Or another Campione?
It began with the Black Prince's visit to the Italian island of Sardinia. He sought the Witch of Sardinia, seeking information on the [Magic Holy Grail], the relentless pursuit of the Fourth Campione. It was then he received a summons, alerting him to the descent of a Heretic God, later revealed to be a false god, similar to the Bull God the Black Prince had battled just days prior.
After a fierce struggle, the Black Prince emerged victorious.
Only to encounter a Divine Ancestor in the aftermath of the battle, a witch named Guinevere, sharing the name of King Arthur's wife who had an affair with the legendary knight Lancelot. She possessed the legendary [Magic Holy Grail].
The Black Prince, upon seeing the object of his fervent quest before him, immediately attempted to claim it, his well-known avarice on full display. However, he was intercepted by the Sixth Campione, Adam Victory, who shielded Guinevere and engaged him in combat.
Yet, the King of Celestial Massacre sided with neither Guinevere nor anyone present; his objectives were far grander.
Finding herself cornered by two Campiones, Guinevere summoned a knight, and a Heretic God answered her call: Lancelot du Lac!
A Heretic God, two Campiones, and a Divine Ancestor converged in a single location.
Fortuitously, the entire island was spared from destruction in the ensuing confrontation. In fact, it concluded with such swiftness that it bordered on the comical.
Both a [Heretic God] and the [Black Prince, Alec] fell at the hands of the King of Celestial Massacre.
While it is not uncommon for a Campione to slay a [Heretic God], nor is conflict between Campiones unheard of, the death of one is a rare occurrence indeed…
Although I did not witness it with my own eyes, despite being present in spirit, the Witch of Sardinia, who had retreated a safe distance from the battle, witnessed the Black Prince's demise at the hands of the Sixth Campione - Adam Victory.
She also confirmed the abduction of both Guinevere and Lancelot by Adam Victory.
Thus, I declare the King of Celestial Massacre, the Evil Buddha, Adam Victory, to be a terrifying entity. So anomalous is he that I find myself unable to categorize the extent of his terror…
A tyrant who cares for nothing but his own ambitions.
And the Earth will suffer as a consequence.
Forsaking God, he is venerated as a King by mages who dabble in demonic knowledge.
It is with profound regret that I assert that mere mortals such as ourselves are powerless against him.
The only ones capable of opposing him are perhaps the First Campione, the Marquis Voban, or possibly the Ruler of the Martial Realm, Lou Hao.
But I dare say, among the Campiones of the new generation, none can stand against him…
- Report compiled by the White Hime-Miko, Alice Louise, former leader of the Council of Wise Men and current advisor to the Wittenagemot.
… …
[Report on the "Eternal Winter" Authority used by the Sixth Campione, Adam Victory.]
It has been confirmed that Adam Victory employed a terrifying authority, transforming a radius of hundreds of kilometers into a frozen, barren wasteland.
"Eternal Winter" not only froze everything within its vast reach but also exuded a bone-chilling cold that transformed all living beings into ice sculptures. Only the Heretic Gods and Campiones seemed immune, yet even they were afflicted with a debilitating stagnation. Even the Black Prince, Alec, with his [Black Lightning], could not break free from this immobility. The ice seemed to penetrate his very joints and bones, slowing him to a point where his Divine Speed was rendered utterly useless.
An unknown authority, usurped from some unknown God.
Or rather, I speculate that this authority may originate from Balor, the Celtic God. The Celts believed him to be the drought that came with winter, due to the more destructive aspects of the Sun he represented. This would mean he has usurped two, perhaps even three, confirmed authorities from Balor! However, this remains conjecture. Of the [Heretic Gods] he has slain, this seems the most plausible origin for such an authority.
- Report compiled by the White Hime-Miko, Alice Louise, former leader of the Council of Wise Men and current advisor to the Wittenagemot.
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Several days later.
Paris, France.
Paris, the City of Lights, dazzled with its unique blend of historical charm and modern elegance. The streets teemed with magnificent architecture, from Gothic cathedrals and iconic monuments like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, to modern fashion boutiques showcasing the latest haute couture. Along the Seine River, ancient bridges and rows of trees created a romantic atmosphere, where couples strolled hand-in-hand and street artists captured the ephemeral beauty of the city on their canvases.
In the heart of Paris stood the Hôtel de Crillon, one of the most luxurious and prestigious hotels in the world. This 18th-century building, with its imposing neoclassical façade, exuded an aura of understated opulence. Stepping into the Crillon was like entering a palace from another era. The interior was adorned with shimmering crystal chandeliers, polished marble, and richly woven tapestries. The halls were decorated with antique furniture, each piece carefully selected to complement the grandeur of the surroundings.
The finest accommodation in the Hôtel de Crillon was the "Les Grands Appartements" suite, a masterpiece of design and comfort. The walls were lined with gold silk panels, and the tall windows offered panoramic views of the Place de la Concorde and the Eiffel Tower in the distance. The furnishings were a fusion of classic and contemporary styles, with plush velvet sofas, elegant leather armchairs, and a king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets that felt like clouds to the touch.
Within this oasis of tranquility, Adam Victory lay nestled in the comfortable warmth of the bed, Lavinia, his girlfriend, gently embracing him. Her delicate body was covered by the white sheets, her face resting against Adam's chest. The soft morning light filtered through the silk curtains, casting a golden glow on the sleeping couple.
Adam awoke slowly, the gentle glow of dawn caressing his face. He stretched, extending his arms to shake off the morning slumber, and carefully slipped out of bed so as not to wake Lavinia. Walking through the room with silent steps, he made his way to the suite's private kitchen, where he began preparing breakfast.
As he brewed the coffee, he recalled the normalcy of the past few days since he killed the Black Prince, Alec, and also kidnapped Guinevere and Lancelot—something he still had to deal with, since both were trapped inside his chariot from Odin's authority. He had decided to do this later, as there was no risk of them escaping since they were bound by the magic chains of [Gleipnir]. Anyway, the last few days had returned to normal, as if it had never happened.
He had obviously told Lavinia everything, including the fact that he had brought a Divine Ancestor and a [Heretic Goddess] home, something the girl shrugged off. She wasn't the type of person who was bothered by his actions, and that was what he liked most about her.
Yes, in fact, the [Heretic God] was a [Heretic Goddess]—Lancelot was a woman, the first Goddess of [Steel] he had encountered.
From what he remembered, in a remote era, Lancelot was an ally of the Heretic God known as the King of the End, the most powerful among the Gods of Steel, who later evolved into the legendary King Arthur, now a distinct Heretic God. She also shared close ties with the Earth Goddess, who, in her last breath, created the Holy Grail, eventually reincarnating as a Divine Ancestor.
Since then, Lancelot dedicated herself to protecting the most renowned Witches, including the Greatest Witch of the Skies and the Greatest Witch of the Earth, playing the role of war goddess and protector of the divine ancestors.
Originally, Lancelot was one of the three Amazon queens—whether Antiope, Hippolyta, or Melanippe, her exact identity remained a mystery. After her manifestation in the World of the Living, she wandered the globe, forging alliances with the King of the End and the Earth Goddess, Gwenhwyfar.
The three companions traveled together until the King of the End succumbed to eternal sleep, while Gwenhwyfar sacrificed her life to create the Holy Grail, later reincarnating as a Divine Ancestor.
In a new phase, Lancelot found Gwenhwyfar's reincarnation, Guinevere, and together they tried to awaken the King of the End. To this end, Lancelot adopted the persona of a knight, Lancelot du Lac. However, before they could complete their mission, Guinevere was assassinated, and thus were born legends that would culminate in the rise of King Arthur as a separate god.
After these events, Lancelot assumed the role of immortal guardian of the most powerful Witches, such as the Greatest Witch of the Skies and the Greatest Witch of the Earth. This responsibility tempered her Heretic God nature, reducing her power, but providing her with greater self-control.
Eventually, Guinevere reincarnated again, and Lancelot, true to her destiny, resumed her position as her guardian, remaining by her eternal ally's side.
It was then that the two ended up in his hands. As someone who knew of them and their intentions to awaken the King of the End, he had planned their capture long ago. When he heard about Alec killing the [Heretic God], Minos, he knew the time had come.
As he thought about this, he continued cooking.
The aroma of fresh coffee soon spread through the room, mingled with the subtle scent of warm croissants and fresh fruit.
Lavinia awoke to the soft sound of Adam moving around the kitchen. She sat up in bed, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and smiled upon seeing him. Getting up, she wrapped herself in a silk robe hanging beside the bed and walked towards the luxurious bathroom. The warm shower water created a comforting mist, enveloping Lavinia as she let the water run over her body, washing away the remnants of sleep.
A short while later, Lavinia returned to the room, refreshed and with a renewed glow. She joined Adam at the small dining table, where he had carefully arranged breakfast. The two sat down, steaming cups of coffee before them, and began to chat casually while enjoying the meal.
Lavinia, between bites, commented on her new position as Leader of [Millennium], which she had assumed a few days ago as well.
"It's been quite boring," she said, swirling her coffee cup in her hands. "There's so much paperwork, endless meetings, and bureaucratic decisions. I miss the days when things were simpler, when I could focus on more exciting things."
Adam listened attentively, smiling softly as she expressed her discontent.
"I'm sure you're handling it incredibly," he replied, trying to cheer her up. Lavinia smiled back, appreciating his support. The conversation flowed naturally, filled with soft laughter and exchanged glances, as the Parisian sun shone through the windows, illuminating the suite with a warm and welcoming glow.
After finishing breakfast, Adam and Lavinia rose from the table. The Parisian sun streamed gently through the large window of the room, illuminating the two with a golden light. Lavinia, dressed in an elegant and discreet outfit, approached Adam, lightly touching his arm.
"I need to sort out some issues for [Millennium] here in Paris," she said with a smile. "It seems the paperwork never ends."
Adam smiled back, leaning in to kiss her softly on the forehead. "Take care, Lavinia. I also have a few things to take care of today."
Lavinia nodded, grabbing her bag and walking towards the door. She turned one last time, giving him an affectionate look before leaving.
Adam watched her go, knowing that she had to solve the problems created by the factions within the organization, those who were against her position as Leader. This was a test from her grandfather, who had retired and was enjoying the rest of his life. Mr. Goldberg had asked him not to interfere, and he knew the old man was pulling strings so that the "factions" that were against Lavinia taking the lead were only doing what he had instructed.
That was why he was in Paris; he had come with her.
Shortly after, Adam left the Hôtel de Crillon and headed towards the Parisian suburbs. The contrast between the vibrant city center and the outlying neighborhoods was striking. As he moved away from the luxury and elegance, the streets became narrower, and the buildings more run-down. The surroundings turned grayer, with concrete buildings stained by time and neglect.
Adam walked with firm steps, his imposing presence contrasting with the scenery around him. He turned onto a deserted street where a large abandoned building stood out. The structure was a shadow of its former self, with broken windows and graffiti covering the exterior walls. The place emanated a sense of desolation and mystery.
He approached the main entrance, pushing a rusty metal door that creaked in protest. The interior was dark and damp, with the smell of mold and dust permeating the air. The floor was covered in debris, and the peeling walls revealed the layers of paint that had been applied over the years.
Adam proceeded down the corridor, his footsteps echoing softly in the emptiness. The light entering through the broken windows created dancing shadow patterns on the walls. The silence was almost absolute, interrupted only by the occasional dripping of water or the distant sound of scurrying rats.
He climbed a rusty metal staircase that groaned under his weight, reaching the top floor. There, a large room with panoramic windows offered a bleak view of the city in the distance.
Adam stopped in the center of the room, his eyes scanning the empty space. He was there for a reason: he wanted to make Lancelot his Subordinate Goddess, although the place was small and unsuitable for a battle, he didn't want to fight her.
He had a plan in mind to subdue the Goddess.
As the wind blew gently through the broken windows, Adam felt the familiar tension of anticipation. He raised his right hand, channeling his magical energy. An icy glow emanated from his fingers, quickly growing until it formed a shimmering mist that filled the room. The air around him instantly cooled, and a sense of ancestral power filled the place.
With a firm gesture, he summoned the Chariot that had swallowed Lancelot and Guinevere.
From the shadows and mist, the Chariot emerged, grand and imposing, as if the very fabric of reality had been torn to allow its passage. The doors opened smoothly, revealing its frozen interior. Adam stepped forward, extending his hand into the chariot, and with a careful movement, he pulled Lancelot, still bound by the magic chains, [Gleipnir], out of her confinement and made the chariot disappear.
Placing her on the floor.
Lancelot's white armor was still covered in ice from his [Eternal Ice] authority, but Adam ran his hand over the helmet, removing it with a gentle gesture. Beneath the armor, a young woman of stunning beauty was revealed. Her face was delicate, with exquisite features that resembled an angel. Her short, honey-colored hair gracefully framed her face. Her eyes were still closed; she was unconscious.
It was due to the Magic Chains, [Gleipnir], which had the effect of leaving the wrapped targets in a state similar to the realm between consciousness and unconsciousness, able to awaken and soon fall asleep again.
Adam looked at Lancelot. She appeared to be in her late teens, with a tall and slender build that conveyed both elegance and strength. Even in her current state, frozen and silent, there was something about her that radiated calmness and dignity.
He observed Lancelot for a moment, admiring the serenity and strength she exuded. Despite her angelic appearance, he could sense the fierce warrior within her, a combatant who valued honor and the challenge of battle above all else. The young knight was a mixture of ethereal beauty and mortal power, a rare combination that made her truly unique.
By releasing the ice that enveloped her, which had been maintained by the Chariot that had the effect of leaving items or living beings in a suspended state in time, he allowed Lancelot to gradually regain her mobility. He knew that soon she would awaken completely, and the calmness that now reigned in the room would transform into something much more intense...
A few minutes later, Lancelot blinked slowly, her sky-blue eyes adjusting to the soft light of the abandoned room. She felt the ice that enveloped her melt, but as she tried to move, she realized that her body remained motionless, as if bound by invisible chains. Despite her state, her expression remained serene, the characteristic calmness of an experienced warrior.
Her gaze fixed on Adam, who watched her with interest and calmness.
"Guinevere..." her voice was soft but firm, reflecting her concern. "Where is she?"
Adam stepped forward, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. "She is safe," his voice was controlled, but carried a malicious authority. "But her safety depends entirely on you."
Lancelot maintained her serene gaze, absorbing Adam's words without showing surprise or fear. She assessed the situation with the clarity of a strategist, quickly realizing the gravity of what was being said. "What do you desire from this knight, my lord?" Her voice was courteous, without a trace of resentment or anger, just a quiet curiosity.
Adam moved closer, his presence dominating the space between them. "Her life is in your hands, Lancelot. I need you to become my Subordinate Goddess." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Your loyalty and your power now belong to me. In return, Guinevere will remain alive and safe."
Silence hung for a moment as Lancelot pondered the proposal. She was not afraid of death or servitude, for her love of battle and the pursuit of honor were above all else.
"If that is what is necessary to ensure Guinevere's safety, then so be it," her voice was firm, without hesitation. "I accept to become your Knight, my lord, but in return I wish to have a worthy duel with you."
The truth was, as someone who loved battles, Lancelot was thrilled by the idea of having a passionate life-and-death battle with the young man in front of her, since he had defeated her and the Black Prince, Alec, with great ease. The idea of fighting him made her body warm, and her heart beat faster.
Adam tilted his head slightly, acknowledging her decision. "Very well, I accept. We will have a duel. If you lose, you will become my Subordinate Goddess, not just for Guinevere's safety, but you will serve me forever. But if you win, I will give you Guinevere, and my life will be in your hands..."
"I accept. I have my gratitude for accepting the fight, my lord," Lancelot said without hesitation, her mind buzzing with intense thoughts. Adam's acceptance of her proposal left her in a state of electric anticipation. She couldn't ignore the burning desire that grew within her, a flame that burned with ever-increasing intensity from the moment he defeated her a few days ago.
The approaching duel was all she longed for. It was not just the promise of a battle, but the invitation to a dance of life and death with someone she considered worthy. The previous defeat, far from breaking her spirit, had ignited her passion for battle, something that had always been at the core of her existence.
Every fiber of her being cried out for this fight, the desire to measure her strength against Adam, the Campione who had managed to subdue the legendary Lancelot du Lac.
She felt her muscles tense, as if they were ready to move, to fight, to reach the ecstasy that only a true battle could provide. Her heart beat strongly at the thought of the promise of a passionate fight, a confrontation where each blow, each movement would be an expression of her being. It wasn't just about victory or defeat; it was about the combat itself, the unparalleled pleasure of facing someone who could truly challenge her skill and determination.
The smile that formed on her lips was one of pure anticipation. The battle was not just a desire; it was a need, a compulsion rooted in every aspect of her identity as a warrior.
Adam had touched something deep within her by accepting the duel. He had recognized her essence, the need to fight, to test herself against a formidable opponent.
And he had not only accepted this, but he had offered her what she desired most.
Seeing the smile on Lancelot's angelic face, Adam smiled himself. He, too, was eager for a duel. His Campione body would never refuse a battle; the adrenaline, hundreds of times greater than that of a human, was addictive. With a gesture, he released the remaining ice that kept her immobile and the magic chains, [Gleipnir], allowing Lancelot to rise completely. She stood up and moved her stiff muscles.
He observed her. Indeed, she didn't seem to be trapped in the curse of madness that accompanied a [Heretic God]; she merely maintained the characteristic of loving battles, given his offer of a duel. He remembered it had been the same with Godou in the original story; she basically had a fetish for battles and strong enemies.
"Come, let's go somewhere where we can fight freely..." he then said to Lancelot, who stopped stretching. She smiled and nodded, following him out of the building.
The silence of the abandoned building was broken when Adam and Lancelot exited together, their figures standing out against the decaying backdrop of the Parisian suburb. The air around them was charged with a palpable tension, an anticipation that made Lancelot's heart beat faster as she walked beside Adam. She could barely contain her excitement; each step she took brought her closer to the moment she craved: the passionate duel with the man who had defeated her.
The journey to the nearby mountain range was shrouded in solemn quiet. The sky above them was tinged with orange and purple, marking the end of the day and the beginning of night, a perfect setting for the confrontation that was about to take place. The mountainous landscape, with its steep slopes and peaks, provided the ideal stage for the battle, an isolated location where they could completely surrender to the fight without interruption.
Lancelot felt her body vibrate with nervous energy as they climbed the rocky slopes, the coldness of the mountain air contrasting with the heat that burned within her. Her sky-blue eyes shone with determination, and she clenched her fists, eager to unleash all her skill and passion in the approaching battle.
Adam stopped in an open clearing, surrounded by steep cliffs and distant peaks. He turned to Lancelot, his gaze calm but firm as he analyzed her. He knew she was eager, that her desire to fight was intense, almost overwhelming. With a nod, he stepped forward, his presence dominating the surrounding environment.
"Let's begin," Adam said, his voice firm but serene. He extended his hand, and a golden aura began to form around him. Suddenly, in a burst of light, he summoned [Ame no Murakamo Tsurugi], the legendary black celestial sword.
Lancelot, without hesitation, summoned her Divine Lance. The weapon appeared in her hands in a flash of light, long and imposing, with a sharp tip that reflected the twilight. The lance was an extension of herself, a weapon she had wielded masterfully through countless battles. She took a deep breath, feeling the comforting familiarity of the weapon in her hands as her heart quickened with the anticipation of combat.
The two positioned themselves, a few meters apart, their gazes locked. The tension in the air was almost tangible, each of them waiting for the perfect moment to make the first move. The silence around them was absolute, broken only by the soft sound of the wind blowing through the mountains.
"Lancelot," Adam said, his voice low. "Are you ready?"
"Yes..." Lancelot affirmed with a nod.
"Very well, then come at me with everything you've got, Lancelot du Lac!"
"Much appreciated. This Knight expresses the utmost respect for accepting this duel."
With those words, they lunged at each other, the battle they both craved finally beginning.
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The surrounding landscape was devastated, the once majestic mountains now scarred by the intensity of the combat. Rocks were shattered, trees had been uprooted as if a hurricane had swept through the area.
The sky, previously covered with clouds, was now open, as if the firmament itself had recoiled before the might of the combatants.
Lancelot was on her knees, her body trembling with exhaustion. Sweat dripped down her face, mingling with the blood that flowed from small cuts. Her breathing was heavy, each breath a struggle, while her Divine Lance lay beside her, forgotten on the ground. Her short, honey-colored hair was disheveled, and her sky-blue eyes were fixed on the figure before her.
Adam Victory stood calmly in front of her. His posture was serene, almost casual, as he held [Ame no Murakamo Tsurugi] pointed at Lancelot's neck. He didn't look the least bit affected by the battle. His clothes were impeccable, without a single tear or stain, and his face showed no signs of fatigue or effort. He wasn't sweating, his breathing was steady, as if the fight he had just waged was a simple walk in the park.
Lancelot looked up at him, a mixture of admiration and gratitude in her expression, and a fervent passion in her pupils. Despite the defeat, there was no resentment in her gaze, only respect for the man who had vanquished her.
She bowed her head slightly, acknowledging his superiority.
"This knight," Lancelot began, her voice soft and calm, but filled with sincerity, "is indebted to Your Majesty. Never before have I encountered such a formidable opponent, so worthy." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "My lance has fallen, and I have been defeated. I accept this with humility."
Adam maintained his calm expression, his sword still pointed at her, but not with menace, rather as an extension of his dominant presence.
He watched Lancelot with unwavering calmness, waiting for her next words.
"I, Lancelot du Lac, pledge my loyalty to Your Majesty," she said, her voice full of reverence. "This knight will be your faithful servant, your subordinate goddess, for as long as you desire. Your strength is something I wish to follow and learn from."
Adam slowly lowered his sword, signaling his acceptance of the oath. He took a step back, offering Lancelot the opportunity to compose herself. At the same time, the necklace around his neck glowed, and the [Heretic Goddess] in front of him dissolved into white light. He could feel a new authority coursing through his body. Lancelot had become his summoning authority; he could summon her to fight in his name.
He could feel her around him like the wind protecting him, like a loyal knight.
It is said that a Subordinate God can share their power with their "Master," the God who summoned and controls and protects them, and vice versa. However, only the "Master" can draw all the power from their Subordinate God. Subordinate Gods are less powerful than a normal [Heretic God] because, once they have submitted to another god, they do not have the will to win, no matter what others say that an independent Heretic God possesses. If the leader of a Subordinate God is killed, the Subordinate God will also quickly fall.
The two had just made a magical contract in layman's terms. She would be his Subordinate Goddess, who would stay around him like air or in the clouds watching him. She was an authority at the same time, since she hadn't lost all her strength as a [Heretic God]; however, she couldn't fight at full power for more than an hour.
Since it was an authority, he decided to call it [Charge of the White Knight].
He stored [Ame no Murakamo Tsurugi] and left the place, stretching. He could feel a telepathic connection with Lancelot, and through it, he talked a bit to familiarize himself with her.
Upon reaching the base of the mountains, Adam stopped and, with a smooth gesture, summoned the [Shining Chariot of the Sun].
The golden Greek chariot appeared before them, its golden steeds softly neighing as light radiated around it.
Adam climbed into the chariot and took the reins. Without a word, he guided the horses, the chariot gently rising into the air, leaving the devastated scenery behind. The cool wind blew around them as they crossed the sky.
Approaching Paris, Adam directed the chariot to a secluded area, where it landed softly. He then deactivated his authority and walked through the streets towards his hotel.
Upon returning to the hotel, Adam entered his luxurious room, exuding a tranquility that contrasted with the intensity of the battle he had waged hours before. The opulence of the environment enveloped him, with polished dark wood furniture, luxurious Persian rugs, and crystal chandeliers that hung elegantly from the ceiling. The large windows offered a spectacular view of Paris, with the city lights twinkling like earthly stars.
Adam went to the small bar in the room and poured himself a glass of red wine, savoring the robust aroma before taking a sip. He approached the window, observing the bustling city below.
The streets were full of life, the distant sound of laughter and conversations echoing softly up to him. The glow of the Eiffel Tower stood out on the horizon, a reminder of the beauty and grandeur of Paris.
With the glass of wine in hand, Adam allowed himself to relax, reflecting on the day's events. His mind wandered between the duel with Lancelot and the next steps he would need to take. However, his contemplation was interrupted by the soft sound of the door opening.
Lavinia entered the room, a radiant smile illuminating her face. Without a word, she walked over to Adam and hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. He felt the warmth of her body against his, the familiar scent of her skin filling his senses.
"I missed you," Lavinia whispered, her voice soft and full of affection.
Adam turned to face her, a calm smile appearing on his lips. He placed the glass of wine on the nearby table and wrapped Lavinia in his arms. Before he could say anything, she pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting with an intensity that made his heart race.
Lavinia, without breaking the kiss, gently pushed him towards the bed. The two laughed softly as he fell onto the soft sheets, she soon leaning over him. Her eyes shone with a mixture of desire and love, and Adam couldn't help but lose himself in them.
She ran her fingers through his hair, the smile on her lips softening.
Adam smiled back, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. The city of Paris continued to shine outside, but for them, in that moment, the whole world was confined to the warmth and intimacy shared between them.