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MillionNovel > I Own a Brothel in Another World > Chapter 245 – Home Sweet Home

Chapter 245 – Home Sweet Home

    Chapter 245 – Home Sweet Home


    <span style="font-weight:400">For a short while, we just stand behind the entrance and take our situation in.


    <span style="font-weight:400">While Sirgia definitely thought a lot about this in the past and yearned for it toe to pass, it’s not easy to go through. She’s been away for years longer than she most likely should have. I can feel the stress and anxiety eating away at her as she reys the conversations with her rtives and close ones inside her head. My presence and support try to thwart them as much as possible.


    <span style="font-weight:400">In my case, I take in the sights, wondering what crazy things I’m about to see. There already are some unique and hardly recognizable noises reaching our ears from many directions, clearly bouncing off the walls of the sizable buildings. In the end, even if they are an outer branch, this massive facility belongs to a renowned artisanal family. People here are working hard on their projects and inventions all the time. I bet Sirgia would feel <i><span style="font-weight:400">at home</i><span style="font-weight:400"> amongst them.


    <span style="font-weight:400">That said, not many currently visible buildings have windows, and if they do, only a few. I guess that’s partially to prevent other families from easily spying on them, and partially due to structural integrity. I’ve seen my fair share of ratherbustible and explosive artefacts of my lovely evil genius’ making. cing the workshop deep underground and reinforcing it was one of the best decisions. Otherwise, people would be flocking to our location regrly to check on themotion.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Still, the workshops and halls here are much bigger than what we have at home so it’s definitely much safer too. Judging by the state of some eager inventors thate in and out of those ces, the parties they are attending certainly can’t be boring. A singed beard or ckened uniform are at the bottom of the list of coteral damage they have suffered. But, their clothes must be special too or else the monthly tailoring bill would be astronomical.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Mari would faint on the spot seeing it. She avoids any financial talks with Ria for a reason. And we are happy to amodate her. No one wishes for her creativity to be limited by the belief that her work consumes way too many resources.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As men and women of various ages stroll around, I note the obvious detail. They are all fairly skinnypared to most Dwarves. This is where my adorably petite wifees from, so it’s not that much of a surprise. But seeing so many thin Dwarves in one ce is something else. The city has been fairly mixed so far, perhaps leaning towards the ssic version.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Of course, not everyone is a walking collection of sticks. However, the books don’t lie by saying that the lineages tracing back to the Mad Lady are slimmer eight out of ten times.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Having prolonged our departure as long as we could, I ce a hand atop Sirgia’s shoulder and squeeze it reassuringly. “Let’s go. The quicker we get this done, the sooner you can get back to worrying about how to fit more vibration modes in yourtest pussy destroyer.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">A quiet giggle escapes her lips as she nces at me with rosy cheeks. “Those certainly are more pleasant things to worry about. It’s always a struggle to fit more gems into that limited space without affecting the general feel and performance.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Crystals are stored in the balls,” I say with the most serious face I can muster, causing her to chuckle again. “Yes, I remember rather well. As much as I would love to say the bigger the better, I’m not a fan of overexaggerated depictions. Though, I guess if we could find the clientele for it…”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“We’ll have to ask Mevana. She must have done at least some research into the market here. I’ve heard that the fatter the Dwarf girl, the bigger the pussy.” She escapes with her gaze shyly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Thankfully, Mev is pleasantly thick instead. I would say hers is perfect for her delicious build.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Is that applicable to the male equivalent?” I raise a curious brow at her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Yes…” Sirgia admits bashfully. “Just the other way… The bigger the Dwarf guy, the fatter the cock…”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I do recall her mentioning something like that in the past. Their kin’s genitalia tend to go for width rather than length. We might find some size enjoyers amongst the female half after all, then.


    <span style="font-weight:400">But first, we gotta steal back the market with a more traditional lineup that appeals to a bigger audience.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Giving my troubled mate another squeeze, I finally convince her to move on. Taking my hand back, I’m surprised by her quick reaction. She catches it right away and intertwines our fingers, looking up at me hopefully. Since it seems like we aren’t going to actpletely neutral, who am I to reject such a cute gesture? And if she needs it to feel more confident, then please, by all means.


    <span style="font-weight:400">We start a slow walk through the front courtyard, passing the multi-level fountain in an octagonal shape. I don’t recognize the figure at the top, but that has to be someone important from her lineage since the man is dressed in gorgeous armour and wields two incredible hammers in his hands. No doubt I will learn a lot of history in the uing days. It might prove useful during our dealings with Sirgia’s and the other families.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Stockhawkers aren’t the only lineage we should keep an eye on. Some might argue that the rest is much more important. Because, after we are done with those thieving bastards, everyone else will flock to fill the created power gap. We’ll need good alliances.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Getting the approval of the outer Forgegravers is bound to help with that a lot.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Diana captures much less attention than I thought she would, but to be fair, like seventy percent of people we pass are lost in their own thoughts. I’m shocked how they never run into each other, walking either with their heads in the clouds or their eyes in some kind of notes. It’s like they possess some legendary additional sense that guides their bodies when their minds are absent.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The number of times where I have to step aside to avoid colliding with a literal Dwarf Zombie is incredulous. Sirgia doesn’t seem to have simr troubles. It’s almost fascinating watching her subconsciously fit right into this weird traffic stream. As much as I try to focus on her, I can’t catch any meaningful changes in her pace, pathing, or anything else. Yet, she misses her kin by a hair’s breadth every damn time.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Really, I gotta drill her about this one day and we might just invent a device that will revolutionise carriage rides in city centres. And any other wheeled transportation for that matter. No more traffic jams andte deliveries. A perfectmercial world.


    <span style="font-weight:400">In any way, this is like an anthill. Hopefully, they don’t send signals to each other through pheromones. Selling Dwarf musk to Humans or other races might not go easily.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As we venture deeper into this stronghold, the variety of scenery increases. Open ranges and testing areas appear here and there. Not everything can be checked in an enclosed space. Plus, I’m sure environmental data is just as important for some inventions. No one wants their proverbial baby to die on them the first second into the slightest atmospheric influence. That would be embarrassing.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Hey. Did you spike the beer yesterday or I’m not hallucinating? Is that who I think it is?” Some dude’s uncertain voice makes me focus a bit more.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Gramma’s arsehole, you are right.” Another one joins in, just as disbelieving. “What are the chances?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">By this point, I locate the source of the uingmotion. And I say uingmotion because it’s clear these voices belong to individuals Sirgia recognises, her expression souring instantly. She pays them no mind, but as it always goes, the duo, which actually grows into a trio, pauses whatever they have been doing on their practice field and heads our way.


    <span style="font-weight:400">One of them has long straight blond hair and a silky-smooth face, way too delicate for his kin. It’s impossible to guess his age urately, but if he isn’t a cringy teenager, he definitely is going to turn out to be quite an immature adult. Dressed in a set of attire worthy of the mostmon car mechanic, he wields a wrench in his gloved fingers.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The second person is also male, but with a braided ck beard that reaches his belly, matching his shoulder-long hair. He seems to be the team’s data scientist or something. His clothes scream pencil pusher, which he actually uses to write on a notepad, wearing brown pants and a cream button-up shirt.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Then, there’s the woman who hasn’t spoken yet but obviously belongs to the pack. She’s copied Sirgia’s hairstyle with two big braids, but hers are toxic orange. Her attire resembles that of the first man, even dirtier from their work. Out of all of them, she seems the most hostile, ring at us, or more like at mypanion, with a noticeable sneer.


    <span style="font-weight:400">And she is the one to start themotion I mentioned earlier.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“What a sight to behold, boys.” Thedy snorts as they block our path. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse. Always eager to ruin everyone’s time, huh, Sis?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I nce at my lover questioningly.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Not my siblings. I don’t have any, as far as I know. Things might have changed,~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> Sirgia exins in my mind. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~The same generations born from parents with alliances and friendships often call each other brothers and sisters. It creates a kind of rivalry between specific lines. The patriarchs even encouraged it through the years, saying thatpetitive spirit boosts creativity.~</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Or sows discord throughout the family, but I don’t say that out loud. She is more than aware of it herself already.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The ginger girl pokes a finger into my mate’s chest. “What the fuck are you doing here, traitor?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Traitor?” Sirgia blinks at her confusedly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Did you think we would wee you with open arms after running away to greener pastures?” The womanughs crudely. “What, did whatever n you fled to finally realise the massive mistake they made?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Looks like some people have their own ideas about what happened after Sirgia began her journey and did not make it back.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Some teachers praised me by saying that I’m too big of a gem for a small family like ours. I didn’t think anyone ever heard that since those tutoring meetings were in private,~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> my beloved adds some more context again. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Nevertheless, what they meant to convey by that was their encouragement to continue my pursuits in hopes that perhaps one day the main pir would notice my talent and recruit me. It happens extremely rarely, but it’s everyone’s dream, pretty much.~</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Yeah. This girl is clearly delusional.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Or projecting.


    <span style="font-weight:400">We might want to write her name down, just in case.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Though, I have no idea who she even is since they didn’t deem it necessary to introduce themselves.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Thomin, Ganfar, and Wistia,~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> Sirgia answers my unspoken realisation. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~We had to run into them right aftering back…~</i>


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~I take it you four weren’t particrly close back then?~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I ask with a mental snort.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Oh, we were close, Master. You can’t sabotage someone without being as close as possible.~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> She mentally shakes her head. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~I didn’t expect to find them here. These courtyards are usually used by apprentices. Enough years have passed for them to already be at journeyman level, or even higher. I must have miscalcted.~</i>


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Or they are just that shit at what they do.~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I smirk openly, not caring if they see or not.


    <span style="font-weight:400">A sweet giggle responds to my quip. Fortunately an internal one.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I think you forgot theyout of the ce,” Thomin, the blonde, chimes in, crossing his arms over his chest. “Servant applications are received in the northeastern part of theplex.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">The trio snickers at his amazing joke.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Cut her some ck, Thom. You know that those with more experience in the field can try their luck straight with the Chief Maid in the assistant quarters southwards of here.” Ganfar points his thumbs over his shoulders.


    <span style="font-weight:400">ssic bullies. Someone feels threatened by the return of the rising star.


    <span style="font-weight:400">And for a good reason. Now that they are on my shitlist, it won’t take long before they get <i><span style="font-weight:400">cleaned up</i><span style="font-weight:400">.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Honestly, I’m surprised Diana is taking this so well. I can feel her urge to bite their heads off, but not a single growl escapes her muzzle. We’ll have to start rewarding our loyalpanion for her impable discipline with something special. I don’t even have to say anything for her to understand the situation perfectly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Cat got your tongue?” Wistia frowns after they finishughing at their ownedy. “Or is your throat sore from sucking Human cock all day and night, you sellout whore?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia sighs deeply and tugs at something on the side of Diana’s saddle. There’s a springy noise of a coil snapping and aunches forward faster than the gang can react. The female releases an udylike yelp as she’s thrown backwards and pinned to the wall of the nearby building, the two of her sidekicks staring at the scene with wide eyes.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“This iteration is meant to restrain monsters with high physical resistance and durability by making use of metal threads thatpress almost infinitely,” my crafty wife announces tiredly. “I would advise you to act quickly or it might get a bit ugly.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">The metal cables start tensing up immediately and the duo breaks out of their stupor, rushing to save their friend, who has quickly figured out her situation and shouts at them to hurry up, voice full of panic and terror. Sirgia ignores thempletely and continues walking as if nothing happened, desperate shrieks filling the air behind us.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Peeking up at me from the side, my vicious partner flushes deeply. “She has no idea how close to the truth she was…”


    <span style="font-weight:400">It takes me a moment to understand what she’s referring to and I chuckle goodnaturedly. There’s no way I would ever leave her sore, but I get the point. Perhaps that’s what that brat needs. A good old dicking with some spanking. But, it’s not like I have time and interest in correcting her behaviour. I have my hands full of much nicer Dwarf girls already.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Soon enough, we leave the vicinity of the <i><span style="font-weight:400">ident</i><span style="font-weight:400">. Since Sirgia shows no sign of concern for the woman’s fate, the is either super simple to dismantle, or she gets off easily for murdering her lineage sibling in cold blood. Survival of the fittest and all that. Most likely not, but nothing would surprise me at this point. The atmosphere here is certainly more than just a little cutthroat.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Not that great of an environment to nurse multiple generations of geniuses.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“We need to submit a request for an audience before we can meet the Patriarch,” Sirgia says as we approach a humongous mansion multiple times as wide and tall as our own. “It’s required that I report to him as soon as possible. There might be questions, but you don’t have to hide anything for my sake, Master. I don’t n to lie to the Patriarch. If he believes me, that’s a different story.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“If he doesn’t, I’ll make him.” I plop a hand atop her head and ruffle through her hair. “But we might want to hurry up if you expect more encounters like the previous one. I don’t know how long I can hold back. Diana’s leash is getting looser too.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">She offers the two of us a charming smile, stroking the big wolf’s fur gently. “Thank you. Their insults don’t affect me. I have much more valuable things to pay attention to than vanity.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Earning herself an affectionate lick, she chuckles and stumbles a bit. I help wipe her face off with a handkerchief and she instructs Diana to use my shadow for a moment. Our understandingpanionplies without a whimper of protest, watching over us from beneath my feet.


    <span style="font-weight:400">We might have gotten away with parading her outside, but marching through the main residence with a monster of this size could be problematic. It’s better to avoid creating unnecessary problems. Especially since we have already caused a scene or two.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her decision proves to be the right one as we are weed by the sight of numerous maids and butlers running from side to side. They aren’t as absent-minded as the inventors and I can imagine how easily distracted or scared they can be. Many pause to take us in with raised brows or frowns, but their obligations and responsibilities outweigh curiosity and confusion many times. No one wishes to lose their job due to beingte.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Since we are here, then that means someone let us in, and that someone might lose their job instead if they fucked up and let in some random psycho.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia doesn’t stop anyone to ask for directions, knowing this ce like the back of her hand. We move with a clear purpose in our steps. Or at least she does. I just follow, making an effort to look professional but not too intimidating. I’m here as a mercenary and need to show it, but it would be nice not to be viewed as one of those greedy and unscrupulous thugs that sometimes slither into this profession, being no better than typical bandits.


    <span style="font-weight:400">After taking a stupid number of turns and corridors, we finally arrive in front of ornate doors that could even lead to a throne room. There’s a booth to the side with a bored-looking guy and a bench right next to it. When Sirgia walks up to him, it feels like we are about to register for a dentist visit instead of requesting an audience.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Greetings, Secretary.” She respectfully lowers her head. “Does the Patriarch receive guests today?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">The aged receptionist throws her a nce from behind his rectangr sses and drops his gaze behind the counter to peer at something only he can see.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“There’s a spot open after his current consultation with the Elders. I can’t give any estimates so you would need to wait here for a chance to catch his attention since I assume you don’t have a tag?” He meets her eyes calmly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“No, this is an abrupt request. Abiding by family’s rules, I came here first thing after returning from my pilgrimage,” Sirgia replies.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The man nods and gestures aside with his eyes. “Take a seat, then. And you, sir? What’s your business?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Escort,” I answer simply. “I’m looking after Lady Forgegraver until I’m dismissed. Will that be a problem?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">He examines me from top to bottom, or top to half due to his position and height. “I don’t think so, but we will know for sure after the Patriarch takes notice of you two.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“That’s more than fair. Thank you.” Seeing that he is done with us, I bring Sirgia to the waiting bench, which is thankfully cushioned. “Do you usually have to wait long?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“The Elders don’t like to drag the meetings so it should be less than three hours if they just began,” she responds, finding my palm and brushing the back of my hand with her thumb.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It’s alright.” I lean in and ce a dainty peck on her sweet cheek, the sidewall of the booth covering us from the Secretary’s gaze. “You are worth waiting for even if it takes eternity.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia’s head swivels around as she scans the hall, then her arms swing over my shoulders and she pulls herself up into a proper kiss. I hold her close by the small of her back as our lips cordially brush together as quietly as possible. She retreats as quickly as she’s moved in, dropping her eyes to her thighs and acting all innocent.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Thankfully, no one walks in for the next three minutes because she can’t make it more obvious that something is going on with how hard she tries to hide her fervent blush.


    <span style="font-weight:400">A quarter of an hourter, it gets a tiny bit boring. I can tell that Sirgia has dove into the mysteries of her mind, most likely going over thoughts and ideas rted to some of her dear artefacts. Or she might be designing an improved model of my cock again. Both things never fail to rx her, which is certainly great for our situation.


    <span style="font-weight:400">So, I need to find something to focus on too.


    <span style="font-weight:400">At first, I decide to refresh my memory regarding the list of my Partners and the abilities they can offer me. With the cooldowns removed, my range of motion has increased drastically. I always have a general idea of who specializes in what so I know where to look when I’m in need of something from a certain school of magic or affinity, but being able to switch pretty much on the fly, it would be better to memorise the list in more detail. It can cost precious seconds to locate the desired skill. In battle, those seconds canpletely change the oue.


    <span style="font-weight:400">This can be reduced with practice, but some things can’t.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I still have to navigate the menu. No matter how quick I have gotten with it, it’s still a choke point in my n to streamline the process as much as possible. It’s also prone to mistakes in the heat of battle, though not as much of an issue as before, where a single error disabled the ability for days. Still, I would prefer not to stumble over skills when in need.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Thinking about resolving this bottleneck consumes nearly an hour without any results. The best solution I cane up with is vocalmands. But, even if I truly burn every single skill and its owner into my mind, some of them can sound very simr or straight up the same. Wanting to always pick the highest level, that’s an issue. Levels increase too. Especially with mercenary girls and others who train a lot.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Perhaps I should kindly ask Lumina if she couldn’t make me a skill that handles it for me.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Wait.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The System disys what we are capable of. All skills and abilities that appear there are either the result of our potential or hard work. Some show up at certain Tiers because our bodies and souls need to grow enough to limate to the power. And I’m not only at Tier 7 now but also got a recent demigod upgrade, during which part of my skills changed.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I <i><span style="font-weight:400">should</i><span style="font-weight:400"> be able to make that skill myself at this point.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Well, it’s worth a try, at the very least.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Closing my eyes and entering deep meditation, I focus on projecting the menu screens in my mind. It’s as simple as thinking about them so they show up right away. The visual panels that my eyes perceive are all signals going straight to the brain anyway. I’m just skipping the intermediary.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Now, I could train myself to disy a huge wall of skills in my mind’s eye and target them individually, or to navigate through all the sheets in a sh. Both options are feasible and eptable. But, they still require a lot of input from me. In terms of conscious input.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It would be better if I could program my brain to use something like… algorithms.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Yes. That could work.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I have no idea how long it takes me, but I focus on teaching my subconsciousness to make behavioural associations. Ites to life slowly, but the morebat situations I think up, the faster it gets.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When I’m attacked with fire, the first thought is to counter it with water, so here is a list of useful water skills and abilities tobat it. When I’m thrown underwater, the first thought is to secure my breathing, so here is a list of wind skills and abilities that fit the role. When I’m stalking a deer, the first thought is to remain undetectable, so here is a list of stealth and camouge skills and abilities to conceal my presence.


    <span style="font-weight:400">One after another, imagining these situations, I go through hundreds of scenarios, mentally navigating the list of skills at my disposition. Bit by bit, it gets faster, turning into some kind of filtering system, coughing up abilities relevant to the given query. When you don’t have to rely on a finite number of hands, things move much quicker.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Only after I sense a weird tingling in my soul and the process suddenly speeds up do I stop. Opening my eyes quite sluggishly after the mental marathon I’ve just run, I find a familiar pinkish rectangle hovering before them. A wide grin forces itself onto my lips right away.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I really just taught myself a new fucking skill. Or maybe even invented it.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Granted, it’s not anything groundbreaking. It does exactly what I’ve been doing and it’s a passive ability. Basically, my brain will keep a handful of skills at the ready depending on the variables present in the scenario I find myself in. I can feel it working even right now, trying to figure out what fits my current needs best.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It’s a sess. I don’t have to think about it actively anymore. To a certain extent, of course. Manual activation is still far superior, no doubt, but amidst chaotic battle, instinctive switching might just save my or someone else’s skin.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Thank you, my generous and gorgeous Goddess.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~It’s all you.~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> A regal chuckle tickles my mind. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~You are finally starting to make use of your divinity. I wish I could have exined it to you earlier, but it’s a very personal journey. Everyone discovers their method differently. It looks like your modern upbringing affected yours a lot.~</i>


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Do you mean to say that to will my godly influence into something, I have to think of it like I’m building an app from simple blocks?~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I ask in disbelief.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~More or less,~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> she replies mirthfully.


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Good thing modern marketing involved a bunch of programming courses just because.~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I groan inwardly. <i><span style="font-weight:400">~At least I don’t have to write the entire code line by line.~</i>


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">~Exerting your power is fairly intuitive. This is just aparison. You noticed it yourself, that conditional approach of yours. Don’t think too deeply about it. It wille naturally to you,~</i><span style="font-weight:400"> Lumina advises.


    <span style="font-weight:400">We will have to see about that.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I don’t get to say anything else as the faraway echo of someone’s steps captures my attention. As soon as I lock onto it, my brain spurts a few skills that will help to investigate it better, and quicker than I can register it, super sensitive hearing from one of my felinepanions activates, turning the sound sharp and detailed.


    <span style="font-weight:400">A female is approaching, her short but raised heels tapping the stone floor regrly. She has some meat to the bone, so possibly not a pure Forgegraver. Common height amongst the Dwarves, the top of her head cutting through the air at the height of the bottom of my ribcage. She’s wearing a thin thong or a g-string as her asscheeks rub tightly against each—


    <span style="font-weight:400">Ooookay, that’s too much information.


    <span style="font-weight:400">This new ability of mine might be too dangerous.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I’ll need to practice a lot so it doesn’t activate on its own too often.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As soon as I shake my head, a maid fitting the profile I have scouted strolls into the room and looks around. Noticing us, she heads our way in a straight line. I try my best not to think about the perky behind her short skirt is hiding, her coworkers most likely unaware of how dangerous the sight from underneath is.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Miss Forgegraver?” she calls to Sirgia after stopping ahead of us.


    <span style="font-weight:400">My lovely wifees back to the world of the conscious, her adorableshes fluttering slightly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Lady Siriel and Lord Giacolo sent me to fetch you,” the woman informs us. “They would like to receive your greetings.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia pales in a matter of seconds like she’s just seen a ghost. I don’t need to be a genius such as herself to connect the hints. Not when this is literally a one plus one equals two situation.


    <span style="font-weight:400">My appalled lover turns to the booth, where she finds the receptionist leaning past his counter a little bit.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I’ll send a servant for you shortly before the meeting ends,” he announces with a faint smile. “Go.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">So there are some good people here.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She swallows thickly and nods. Shooting me an anxious nce, she grasps my hand, and I help her up. As we follow the ass-pping maid—I really should have disabled this skill instead of tuning it down—it looks like we are heading for execution instead of a family reunion. It can’t be that bad, can it? Their precious daughter is returning safe and sound.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Our guide shows us the smaller but still decently ornate double doors and waits on the side. Giving Sirgia onestforting squeeze, I retract my hand from hers, not wanting to start on the wrong foot with my future iws. Baby steps. First you gotta remove racism, then you can think about kissing the bride in front of their eyes.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Taking a deep breath, I open the door for her and hold it as she strolls inside. Closing the wing after we both pass through the doorstep, I follow my lithe lover from a respectful distance. Two figures await us on an embroidered sofa that could fit five.


    <span style="font-weight:400">One is a bald man with a greyish beard cut fairly short for his kin, reaching the line of his shoulders in the shape of an inverted triangle. He fancies a twirled moustache to match it and wears a neat white suit. He is slim, perhaps even a bit more than his daughter, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears right from the beginning.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The other is a woman sharing hair colour with Sirgia, and partially also hairstyle, using one big braid instead of two. She wears abo of ck pants and a grey shirt, her sleeves rolled up. Judging by some small marks on it, she must havee from a workshop, or something like that, quickly cleaning herself up but not having enough time to change clothes. Her lip trembles with simr emotion to her husband, but then morphs into a snarl as she stomps forward.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“After all those years, you show up in front of us just like that?!” She artictes loudly with a powerful voice. “We thought you were dead! The life pendant shattered right in front of my eyes!”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia flinches as her mother gets into her face, stopped from pressing further only by her father, who grabs his wife’s wrist as quickly as he can.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“The ship was attacked by pirates—”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You could have written!” Lady Siriel cuts her off with a shout. “Did we fail to instil the meaning of words and paper into your mushy brain, you idiot?! Or did you lose yourself in your absurd daydreams of fame and adventure so much you forgot how the world works?!”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I found myself in a difficult situa—”


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">*SMACK*</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">I jolt when Sirgia’s cheek is suddenly struck with an unexpected p, surprising pretty much everyone in the room. Barely in time, I stop Diana from lunging out of my shadow, and my newly designed ability from selecting a plethora of skills useful in beheading the enemy in a blink. My fists do tighten though as the force pushes my small mate into my front, grazing the reddening side of her face meekly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Doesn’t seem to have been that difficult if you can stroll in here with your nose in the air like you own the ce!” Her mother snarls to the side, getting tugged back by her husband even more. “Do you have any idea how we felt, you coghead?! Your father was sick for an entire year while you were gallivanting around the realm! Was it worth it? Was it good, you unfilial bitch?!”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I’ve been… captured…” Sirgia whispers quietly.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The woman’s eyes register the cor and they widen briefly before jumping up to tense face. It’s all I can do not to re at her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“A ve…” She takes a step back, then finds her fury once again, dropping her gaze to her daughter. “The sea must havepletely eroded whatever brain you had left by that point for you to lead your bastard of an owner to your family! Do you wish to see all of us caged by this perverted sadist?! Is that your goal?! To sell out your parents so that you can feel better seeing him humiliate, torture, and break us alongside you?!”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Sirgia seems to find her bearings after that, taking a step forward with a tense posture. “Don’t nder my husband—”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Husband?!” Lady Siriel’s voice cracks from shock. “You’ve given yourself to your very ra—”


    <i><span style="font-weight:400">*SMACK*</i>


    <span style="font-weight:400">Unfortunately, thanks to all the stats she receives from me, even I’m not able to react fast enough to stop the swing my petite mateunches at her mother. The force creates an impact wave in the air and sends the woman flying into the man, both of them smashing into the sofa, which lifts to its back legs and slides to the wall beforending hard on the floor again. Both of them look stunned, but fortunately unharmed.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I said <i><span style="font-weight:400">DO NOT</i><span style="font-weight:400"> nder <i><span style="font-weight:400">MY HUSBAND</i><span style="font-weight:400">!” Sirgia practically screams at them, her front foot encased an inch deep in the cracked tile of matching shape.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her parents blink owlishly like they are still processing what has just happened.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Ah, yes.


    <span style="font-weight:400">How could I have expected things to go a different way?
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