Final Regression of The Legendary Swordmaster Chapter 83

Just like Fiona, Thaleia was, surprisingly, still a virgin. She had never experienced intimacy with any man. Thaleia Puresteed, that was her full name. She came from the Puresteed family, a house that had maintained close ties with the Vistro family for generations. The Puresteeds were once famous in the northern region for their refined cultivation methods, techniques that produced disciplined and powerful mages who often went on to serve under the Vistro banner with loyalty and pride.

However, time had not been kind to her lineage. Thaleia was the only remaining descendant of what was once a respected and influential family. The Puresteed name still carried weight in certain circles, but its glory had dimmed. For someone bearing such a legacy, expectations had always surrounded her. Yet by the age of twenty eight, she remained at the peak of the Adept stage. She had formed one hundred circles within her mana core, an achievement that surpassed most cultivators, but she had not been able to break into the True Mage realm. Compared to the monsters of talent within the human domain, her progress felt slow.

For two years, she had served as the secretary to the former Marquis. She had managed documents, coordinated logistics, and observed political maneuvering from behind polished desks and heavy doors. Eventually, she resigned from that position to focus entirely on her cultivation, believing that distance from administrative burdens would allow her to finally break through her bottleneck. Yet progress remained stagnant. Later, when Edward rose to power, he personally recommended her return as his secretary. At the time, she had not understood his reasoning. Now, she was beginning to see that perhaps he had noticed more about her condition than she realized.

Much of her life had been consumed by cultivation. From dawn until late night, she trained, meditated, circulated mana, and studied advanced theory. Social gatherings were rare for her. Banquets and noble events were obligations she attended briefly before retreating. She did not flirt, nor did she encourage attention. Men rarely approached her, and if they did, it was with cautious respect rather than romantic interest. Her reputation as a disciplined and serious cultivator made her distant in the eyes of many. Years passed in quiet focus, and intimacy simply never found a place in her life.

Her virginity was not a matter of purity or pride. It was simply the result of a life spent chasing cultivation. While others formed relationships, she studied mana resonance. While noble ladies entertained suitors, she refined inscriptions within her core. She had convinced herself that there would be time later for personal matters, after she secured the future of her family name. But later never came.

Now, Edward had presented her with a path forward. A concrete method to break through the barrier that had trapped her for years. If what he said was true, if he could truly help synchronize her one hundred circles and guide her into the True Mage realm, then this was not merely about personal growth. It was about the survival of the Puresteed legacy.

If she refused now, the opportunity might never return. Edward was preparing to step into Atlantis, a place where countless powerful cultivators would risk their lives. If he succeeded, his strength would rise beyond imagination. If he failed, there would be no second chance. Either way, this moment was fleeting.

Thaleia lowered her gaze slightly, her thoughts steadying.

For the Puresteed family to rise again, she needed power. Titles and connections meant nothing without strength to back them. If she remained at the peak of Adept stage while the world moved forward, her lineage would quietly fade into history.

Edward had offered her a way to ascend.

And if she turned away from it out of hesitation or embarrassment, she might lose not only her chance, but her family’s final hope as well.

Minutes passed, and Thaleia lay sprawled across the bed, her bare skin flushed from the warmth of the room, her curvy body fully exposed. The soft swell of her breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath, their fullness accentuated by the way she lay on her side, one arm draped over her stomach as if to shield herself. The curve of her hips and the roundness of her ass pressed into the mattress, the sheets barely covering the lower half of her thighs.

The door creaked open, and Edward stepped inside, his presence filling the room before he’d even crossed the threshold. He wore his Marquis attire—tailored black trousers, a high-collared coat embroidered with silver thread, and polished boots that clicked softly against the floor. His expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering over Thaleia’s naked form with the same detached interest one might give a piece of furniture.

Thaleia’s fingers twitched against her stomach, her cheeks red. She turned her head away, pressing her forehead into the crook of her arm, her breath hitching in her throat. The silence between them was thick, broken only by the quiet rustle of his coat as he moved closer.

Edward stopped at the edge of the bed, his shadow falling over her. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gazing down at her, before he slowly lowered himself to his knees. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, the movement subtle but unmistakable. Thaleia’s body tensed, her shoulders curling inward, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. His hands didn’t wander, didn’t explore—he simply leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and then his mouth closed over her left breast. The wet heat of his tongue sent a jolt through her, her back arching involuntarily. He sucked hard, the pull of his lips insistent, almost demanding, and Thaleia’s fingers clenched into fists against the sheets. A sound threatened to escape her, but she bit down on her lower lip, stifling it before it could break free.

He didn’t rush. His mouth worked over her, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the weight of her in his hands. When he finally released her left breast, it was only to shift his attention to the right, his teeth grazing her nipple before he drew it deep into his mouth. This time, Thaleia couldn’t suppress the sharp gasp that tore from her throat, her head snapping back as the sensation coiled tight in her belly. His free hand came up to cup the underside of her breast, lifting it slightly, offering it to him as if she were something to be devoured. The pressure of his mouth bordered on painful, but the ache only made her thighs press together, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. She tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her reactions contained, but the tension inside her was a living thing, twisting and tightening with every pull of his lips.

Edward tongue flickered against her nipple before he sucked harder, drawing another broken noise from her. Thaleia’s fingers tangled in the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as if it could anchor her to something solid. The room felt too hot, the air too thick, her skin too sensitive beneath the relentless attention of his mouth. She could feel the wetness between her thighs, the way her body betrayed her with every shuddering breath. When he finally released her, her breast glistened, the skin flushed and swollen from his touch. She didn’t dare look at him, her chest heaving as she fought to regain control.