The Fall of Thebes

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 16:07:01

Chapter One: The Shop of Rare Magical Items (Bourbon Thebes)

This bizarre world, similar in size to our Earth, contains many familiar things, and the laws governing their operation can be understood by applying the laws of Earth.
Most strikingly, beyond the prevailing science, this strange world—let's call it the "Saga" world—possesses rational, genuine magic, and in essence, magic and science are not contradictory. The magicians of the "Saga" world are governed by an international magic guild that transcends government, but are more like a group of scholars whose minds are filled with fervent fantasies. They do not reject science; in fact, they painstakingly promote the fusion of magic and science. Magic, or science, is merely a part of the magicians' fervent fantasies, and only a small part at that.
On the other hand, the most similar aspect of the "Saga" world compared to Earth is the rampant desire, an eternal fire burning in the hearts of all intelligent beings, undying even in death.

----

"Master is awake! Do you like this chain, sir?"
In a strangely dark and luxuriously decorated bedroom, I lay curled up on the bed, half of my body enveloped in soft silk fabrics and a sweet, feminine fragrance, drowsily watching the beautiful slave Iris prepare for her departure. She always spent a lot of precious time meticulously grooming herself. For her, going out was an extremely rare and important event.
Iris stood naked in front of a life-sized mirror. One hand was outstretched, holding a purple alloy chain, while the other slapped her deliberately upturned buttocks.
This insatiable little slut is really itching for a beating. I rubbed my eyes, anticipating.
"Ah! Master, my butt is suddenly so itchy. Woof woof woof!"
I propped my head up with my left hand, squinting at Iris's grotesque performance. This wasn't enough; this level was far from enough for me to personally intervene.
"Ugh, ugh, ugh."
Iris bit the chain in her mouth, her chin slightly raised, her hands clasped together and held high, her body's curves taut and accentuated. In the mirror, the platinum choker tightly bound the chain around the middle of her long, slender neck, like a waterfall cascading down a mountainside, with another layer of smooth velvet underneath. At the point where the choker met her neck, the skin was squeezed into wrinkles, and the blue veins beneath pulsated stubbornly.
"Look at Nunu's slutty ass." Iris knew I was watching. Her eyes were fixed on me through the mirror, a sly glint in them.
Thanks to her long-term, consistent training, Iris's upper body remained perfectly still, using only her core muscles in her waist, hips, and legs to begin to sway her buttocks, like two peeled coconuts, in a seductive, small motion. Her buttocks, which I had fucked and spanked countless times, arched back repeatedly. When her buttocks reached their peak, her body resembled a powerful, fully drawn bow. Between the two buttocks, blooming... Two captivating, exotic flowers—her chrysanthemum and her beautiful vulva—replaced the arrows that should have shot forth, aiming directly at me. Iris's body was full of power, a beauty bordering on bestiality.
Iris's chrysanthemum twitched and shuddered, the surrounding pink folds forming an inward-drawing vortex around the anus. Lustful fluids secreted and seeped from the depths of her convulsing vulva, accumulating at the entrance, forming a large droplet, like another transparent clitoris beneath the tender red clitoris, only glistening and precarious.
"Ah... I can't take it anymore..."
With a soft, liberating cry, and as Iris announced, her juices overflowed, soaking her vulva and spilling over her anus, playfully trickling down her inner thighs. She instantly released her clasped hands, but before she could even brace herself, she collapsed to the ground, face to the side, head touching the floor, looking like a starving dog in a food bowl.
Iris's eyes were half-closed, her breathing ragged, saliva soaking the expensive Asian rug, her tongue still lingering on the thin fabric. Her lips trembled, and beneath the pale skin of her back, a crimson pattern appeared: several giant pythons bound a girl with features resembling hers. This was one of my masterpieces, inscribed with wondrous runes on the inner skin of Iris, only revealing itself when she was aroused.
I knew Iris was still peeking at my reaction through the mirror. She anticipated the little pampering before leaving. It had been a while since she'd gone out with me, so she was excited, wearing her favorite purple chain, fantasizing and arousing herself about the long-awaited outdoor training.
"I told you last night that I had other important business to attend to when I took you out today. Look how happy you are. When your master does outdoor training, isn't it always meticulously prepared? A slutty dog walk? A public toilet for semen? A spontaneous wild encounter in the city? Bringing in some wild men to expose themselves without any shame? Which one are you thinking of, Your Highness Princess Xiangen Caroline?"
"All...all as Master wishes! Please punish me, Master! Ah...this filthy dog is here again..."
With that, Iris's buttocks were raised to their highest point, her anus contracted sharply, her labia and vaginal opening locked together in an instant, her thighs trembled violently, her calves swayed incessantly, and her two delicate feet stretched out forcefully, like lotus tips in the wind and rain. In just a moment, her vaginal opening opened wide again, as if all her strength had been released, and two streams of water gushed out of her beautiful vagina, shooting straight onto the bed, accumulating in front of my face, emitting an alluring sweet fragrance.
"Hehe, what a shameless princess! Come and have breakfast."
Hearing this, Iris excitedly crawled around, then climbed onto the bed on all fours, affectionately using her head to flip me over from my side, revealing a sumptuous breakfast.
"Hehe, Master's hard, so big."
Iris first carefully sniffed the hot shaft and the folds of my scrotum, gently rubbing it with her nose, caressing it with her lips, and licking it with her tongue. Her hands were also busy, gently stroking around my areolas, occasionally pressing my nipples.
"Ah..." I couldn't help but let out a soft moan of pleasure.
"Ugh... Master's big cock is so hot... I love it... It's smelly and delicious... Ugh... I love eating it..."
Suddenly, Iris swallowed the entire penis in one gulp, until the glans plunged into her throat and was firmly locked in place. Then, her tongue danced, sweeping over the veins on the shaft, pressing against the groove at the tip of the glans, scraping back and forth vigorously.
It was just breakfast, and I didn't want to delay leaving any longer, so I released my pent-up desire, feeling a surge of pleasure. I let her... I began to gently stroke her forehead. "Waaah... Nunu is being a good girl..." she whimpered, her words indistinct, yet she responded eagerly. I then traced the soft flesh of her neck down to her hair, gathering her long golden hair into a bundle and pulling it upwards sharply. She couldn't bear to part with my penis; she resisted my pull, burying her head down forcefully, wanting to penetrate even deeper. In this struggle, her throat subtly moved, pressing against the glans, and she vomited a stream of sticky saliva, which simultaneously warmed the glans and shaft.
"You little slut, you really know how to eat!"
My ferocity was provoked. I grabbed Iris's hair and made her kneel up, then held her little head and thrust in mercilessly, enjoying the tightness of her throat. Her tongue was like a ball of cotton, pushed deep into my throat one moment and then back into my saliva-filled mouth the next, stubbornly sweeping across my glans, sometimes up and down, sometimes circling, sometimes thrusting.
Finally, Iris covered my entire glans with her tongue, from which several soft, hairy tentacles sprouted. One of them probed into the glans. The rest spread out, sinking into the groove of my glans, binding it tightly, and rapidly manipulating it.
Iris was truly enjoying the penetration, her eyes rolling back uncontrollably.
Ah, Master, it's so thick and long today, an unbelievable feeling of fullness, a strong scent. Master, have pity. You haven't been home to train me for three days, Master, have you missed me? I've missed you terribly, I'm so naughty, I stole and ate the urine that Master accidentally spilled in the toilet bowl, and I even used a dildo, but it didn't relieve my itch at all, it's nothing compared to Master's terrifying prowess. Yesterday, Master came home late, and although I was caught stealing urine, I only got a whipping, not even tied up! While serving Master's bath, just seeing Master's fierce, big meat stick made me cum twice, but I really didn't dare to taste it. Ah, Master, you were so cruel then, while I was cumming, you whipped my buttocks so many times, you really hurt me. It's been three whole days since you trained me, why didn't Master sleep with me last night? Doesn't Master miss me? When will Master find out that I used a dildo! What punishment should it be? Nunu wants a gag, wants to be hung up, tied up, wants to suffocate, wants to be slapped, wants her ass to be beaten raw. Ah, Nunu's whole body wants her master, wants to feed her master, wants pain, torment, pain with her master's favor, torment with her master's love. Her cunt and chrysanthemum crave her master so much, it's so itchy, so empty and painful, even her toes would be okay, master! Master, have mercy!
"...Waaah...I can't take it anymore...the semen is scalding hot..."
Semen poured into Iris's throat like a burst dam. Releasing her unconscious body, I savored the afterglow of breakfast.
Iris's body convulsed involuntarily, semen and saliva leaking from her beautiful mouth, bubbles rising from her nostrils, the corner of her mouth chafed by the penis, a little blood trickling from it. Her ass was still stubbornly raised, a pool of disgusting fluid flowing on the silk sheets below. A moment later, with a splash, she fell into the pool of vaginal fluid, then convulsed violently a few more times.
"Master... I'm full... I'm full..."

----

Iris was full, but I was hungry. In the interval between her recovery, tidying up, and bringing breakfast, I lay back
down on the bed, curled up, my eyes wandering aimlessly—my favorite, contemplative posture.
Is this my home? Last night, when I came home, Iris greeted me with "Welcome home" again. The last time she said that, I beat her half to death, her body scalded by candle wax, her joints bound and bruised, almost crippling her. She smiled faintly, without a trace of resistance, without the slightest wavering. And this time? Why, compared to before, am I so much calmer when I hear her say that again?
Iris's so-called home is this small, three-story house, located in the most secluded spot in a metropolis like Edgar Allan Poe's—hidden in a corner of a bustling downtown area, a true hidden gem. You wouldn't even imagine that in the bustling downtown area you thought you knew so well, just a turn away from the noisy commercial street, there would be such a retro little house. I bought it from the heir of a deceased old woman when I was about ten years old. At that time, I was still the only son of the Theban family, a proud citizen of Bourbon-Thebes. My father was healthy then, and in our secluded mansion on the Avenue of the Time, he would often laugh heartily, chasing and playing with me, answering my strange questions with his witty conversation. I will always remember his bright eyes, broad chest, and strong arms; his heartwarming laughter always appears in my nightmares. Back then, my dear sister was still by my side, taking meticulous care of me. I didn't need a mother at all; those Carolingian dogs, not a single one of them was any good. I didn't need a mother who raised me for even a day; all I needed was my sister. And then there was my little sister Xianggen, who often came to visit—a truly adorable Carolingian. Our whole family would go to the lakeside to admire the tulips. She would ride on my father's shoulders, laughing so happily, and I would get angry because that was my special throne! On sunny days, she and I would climb Tristram, a mountain far north of Edgar Allan Poe. How beautiful she was, her expression radiant, so innocent and pure, trusting me completely. The mountain air was so refreshing, and her delicate fingers would always rest on me, not even daring to pick the flowers. My little Xiang'er, my little sister Xianggen, Princess Xianggen Carolingian, my beautiful iris?
Haha...haha...
back then, I, Bourbon Thebes, finally had a home.
And now? I, Bourbon Thebes, am still Bourbon Thebes, but I have tarnished the glory of the beloved Thebes.
My father is dead; I will always remember the black scimitar with its sapphire hilt. My sister is imprisoned; I wish I could kill him a thousand times over, that butcher who destroyed everything. The manor will never be reclaimed; it was burned down by the Carolingian army.
Glory of Thebes is finished.
But alas, the mission of the Thebes family remains, and I will still suffer the endless torment of that mission. Hmph, "Chairman of the Eternal Night," Bourbon Thebes, what a resounding nickname! I am unworthy of it!
Sigh. At least my dear sister is still here; I must save her.
But Iris, this is not home, not yours, not mine. I am Glory of Thebes; my home is on the Avenue of Time. Very well, if things go well at the Rare Magical Items Shop, it can also serve as punishment for Iris, my jealous little rascal. This matter, while not a major one, is merely a further attempt to curb the Citizens' Council, albeit troublesome, and the methods will have to be more extreme. The Carolingian family needs money, and their lordly war is far from over; it would be best if it never ended.
I intertwined my hands in front of my lower abdomen, constantly shifting their positions like a maniac. My left thumb was digging tightly into the palm of my right hand. There, a grotesque circular scar, the size of a gold coin, was almost crushed by my digging.

----

"Master, breakfast is ready. Master... Master..."
Iris called several times, leaning down and shaking my shoulder to rouse me from my reverie. She was clearly used to my quirk; her voice was unhurried, gentle yet firm, making me feel completely undisturbed. I think Iris is truly gifted as a sex slave.
"Mmm."
Iris quickly lay down on the cold marble between the bed and the dining table, waiting for me to step over her beautiful body. This distance had been pre-planned, perfectly matching her size. I stepped on her profile, my big toe resting on her temple, while my other foot was enveloped by her breasts. Without a second thought, I pushed off and stood up. My foot trod over her slightly rounded chest, her soft belly, and her perfectly aligned legs, which felt like clean, delicate bamboo shoots or freshly squeezed white rubber, offering a satisfyingly firm and responsive feel.
Sitting at the table, my appetite was awakened by a simple dish of creamy baked potatoes with pickled olives. The cream was specially ordered by Iris from Calvino, a culinary paradise on the southern coast of the Mediterranean, transported by an expensive airship. She had personally grown both the potatoes and olives, handling everything from seed selection and seedling cultivation to planting and weeding—a process that required immense care and attention. The final pickling of the olives was particularly meticulous, involving dozens of complex steps I couldn't even describe. Iris's dedication to her cooking was probably no less than the effort I had put into her body.
I must admit, I had become dependent on her cooking. Of course, she still couldn't compare to her peerless sister in any way. She would probably agree that her sister was perfect.
As I leisurely ate breakfast, my feet rested on Iris's breasts. She quietly placed her hands on my feet, her palms warm and damp, like the dim sun that occasionally peeks out during the rainy season—not so warm, but comforting nonetheless. She knew I didn't like to be disturbed while eating and didn't need her service.
Iris's breasts weren't large, rather flat, like a round, short, and plump stalactite. She still looked like a delicate young girl. Because of this, she was quite distressed, repeatedly asking me to modify them, to make them bigger and rounder, to become more comfortable footpads, so that when two were embraced, they would form a more intimate and enveloping, lewd, fleshy orifice.
Forget it, I think Iris is fine the way she is now. Looking at her youthful breasts, those bouncy, vibrant breasts that feel good to the touch, reminds me of the past. It seems that cruel time hasn't taken away any of the beauty from those breasts; they are especially precious to me, and I feel a warm comfort.

----

"Go get ready, we should go out." I finished breakfast.
"Ahhh." Iris opened her mouth slightly, somewhat relentlessly, making a pleading sound like a baby. I could clearly feel her body temperature rising.
"What a troublesome dog."
"Woof woof." Iris wriggled her body restlessly.
I didn't want to indulge her, so I stuck my toes into Iris's nostrils, pushing them in forcefully, pushing upwards, making her open her mouth to its limit.
"What do you want? You wretched dog! Are you even worthy to ask?"
"Master! Ahhh... I want to eat pee!"
Iris's body belongs entirely to me, not a single inch of it is dirty, and she can be used by me anytime, anywhere. And likewise, don't I belong entirely to her? To her, not a single part of me was dirty. She could be brought to orgasm by me anytime, anywhere, even to the point of actively orgasming, just like in front of the mirror, opening herself up to me and enjoying the ultimate physical bliss.
We, master and slave, though living a depraved life unspeakable to outsiders, who could understand the sweetness and bond between us?
After a brief build-up, the first stream of urine of the day hit Iris's chin, splashing her upper body, a shiny yellow, like scattered gold leaves. Her toes were being washed by her rapid breathing through her nostrils. My other foot, still pressing on her breast, felt her nipple gradually harden, like a plum pit, with a gradually tapering point, pricking me and making me itch.
The grotesque tattoo of the python and the girl reappeared! The python twisted, the girl struggled helplessly, her eyes gradually becoming vacant, her hands hanging limply. It could manifest itself according to emotions, and each time the scene changed according to the subtle changes in the flow of blood under the skin, the runic magic was truly magical.
"I can't get any!"
Iris was frantic, desperately trying to push her mouth down, distorting her nose and upper face, her eyes darting around anxiously, her breathing becoming hot and violent, her appearance frantic. As soon as I let go, she didn't even have time to catch her breath before she rushed to the stream of urine, gulping it down.
"Glug... burp... sweet... glug... hehe... cough cough cough cough..."
She finished urinating in an instant, and Iris, still coughing, rolled over and got up on all fours, first using her tongue to carefully clean my feet and legs, then reluctantly licking every part of herself that she could reach.
"Thank you for the urine, Master."
Iris got up, then bowed again, her whole body radiant, her smile radiant, her large, almond-shaped eyes watery, as if flowing with iridescent light. Her overflowing happiness was contagious, though I tried to resist it.
"Go pack, we're in a hurry."
Was I genuinely happy for Iris's happiness? Exhaustion overwhelmed me.

----

Poe Allen City, a world-renowned financial center, where the Annabelle paper currency is a highly reputable hard currency throughout Saga, comparable to gold.
Poe Allen City, the free city-state, is where Saga's intellectuals celebrate the origins of their civic council. Its enlightened internal system and radical colonialist external ideology have ensured its continued strength.
Poe Allen City, a city of cults, is a haven for Saga's wealthy due to its pluralism and minimalist government policy. Opportunities for advancement seem endless; stories abound of who rose from humble beginnings to become one of the few thousand hereditary citizens.
Everyone knows that no country or city can compare to Edgar Allan Poe when it comes to extravagance, and within Edgar Allan Poe, no one can compare to me, "Speaker of the Eternal Night," Bourbon Thebes. But this three-story building, hidden in plain sight, which I call the Aleph, is an exception. It's not that it's simple; its interior is still incredibly luxurious, designed by Kovra Ionia, the architect of the Cathedral of the Holy Souls, over ten years. During those ten years, thanks to my extraordinary connections, even the construction of the Cathedral of the Holy Souls was delayed, just so Kovra could focus on renovating the interior of the Aleph. After all, it's Iris's residence! She used to be so lively, always dragging me out to wander around Edgar Allan Poe or the Carolingian family's independent territory, Sade. Now she can no longer move freely, and many of her favorite things have been moved into the Aleph, so she won't be too lonely. Even sex slaves need their own lives, lest they be reduced to mere playthings and inanimate objects. Life maintained her vibrancy as a human being with a degree of danger, while through training, her dependence and obedience as a sex slave were reinforced, preventing her from developing any dangerous thoughts of escaping my enslavement as a living, breathing person.
Aleph is an exception because it is unknown to others. Normally, I only care about appearances, wanting everyone to know that I, Bourbon-Thebes, have arrived. But Aleph is only inhabited by Iris and me; we haven't hired a single servant. Korfra is trustworthy, and there's an unbreakable chain of interests between us; her loyalty is controllable. The workers who reformed Aleph were originally slaves; after completion, they were all transported by me to my family's gold mines in overseas colonies. Those places are thousands of miles away from Edgar Allan Poe and are heavily guarded. I quite like this comfortable little nest in Aleph, and I especially like the feeling of sharing secrets with Iris.
"Master, why is there a new carriage again? The last one was terrifyingly wide, planted with my favorite tulips, and had a huge bed of natural grass that wasn't prickly at all. I loved it so much. After you told me the scientific name of that grass, I tried planting a small patch at home, but I don't know how it will turn out. Hehe."
Iris, like a puppy, nestled beside me, whimpering and babbling. Sometimes she would nudge me closer, snuggling into my lap as I sat cross-legged; sometimes she would gently scratch me with her paws; sometimes she would lick my waistline and circle around, probing my anus. Yes, I was naked the whole time. In Aleph, in front of Iris, clothes were superfluous. This wretched slave, laughing foolishly, I wondered what she was so happy about!
"Master has many carriages; he just picked one at random."
"Master, Master, this one... the interior is a creamy white and sea blue color scheme that I love. There's a lingering, faint woody scent—it must be rare Oriental sandalwood, perhaps transported from the underground capital of Suzhou and Hangzhou in the East? I love this Mediterranean style of decoration that's close to nature. Even the carriages Master picked at random perfectly match my taste."
I glanced at the grinning Iris, and without warning, grabbed the chain and stood up abruptly. I folded the chain in my hand and lifted her into the air.
"Ah!" Iris gasped softly, her face pale from the chain, her expression somewhat dazed, her limbs flailing helplessly in mid-air.
"You seem to be having a lot of fun, Princess!"
"Cough cough... Master... punish me... cough cough..." Iris stammered the words a sex slave should say, but I couldn't feel happy. Her unconditional trust, for some reason, irritated me.
"Cough cough... Love Nunu... It hurts cough Nunu..." Iris, trembling, used her hands and feet to reach a whip not far away and presented it to me. Her hand gripping the whip was so tight that half her nails were red and half white.
Why so tight? Are you so determined, my little Xiang'er?
Iris had her other hand behind her back, her head held high, her eyes comfortably closed, her legs and waist bent and drawn up, as if kneeling in mid-air, without a trace of fear. She wasn't afraid of death; she was wholeheartedly experiencing the pain of her master's favor. Even if her master granted her death, she would remain calm, perhaps even enjoy it?
Look, Iris is wet again; this is the result of my long-term training, her neck has become her fatal sensitive spot. After a violent cough, her buttocks trembled wildly. Except for the hand gripping the whip, which remained firmly in front of me, her other three limbs were no longer in a kneeling position, but unnaturally spread apart. Her thighs were pressed together and trembled slightly, her calves forming a wanton V-shape.
Iris's fingers and toes were spread wide. She never did her fingernails, because I wouldn't allow it; I didn't like her obvious beauty to become vulgar. But her toenails were always carefully manicured; this time, they were white heather dyed with natural flower juice. After her toes, as close as pearly teeth, parted, the tender pink spaces between them shyly bloomed, radiating a beautiful glow like a rose.
Iris's muscles continued to tense, until they convulsed morbidly. Suffocation awakened her body's survival instinct. Just as she was about to completely lose consciousness, the muscles of her vulva and anus contracted fiercely, so tightly that they even clamped down on the overflowing lustful fluid.
"Ah...ah..." Iris let out a mournful cry like a dying beast, yet it contained boundless pleasure, as if it were the final release after suffering endless torment.
Lustful fluid gushed out from her suddenly relaxed and trembling vulva, washing the two small, pink labia without any growths, and the slightly exposed, slippery clitoris until they were smooth. Under the viscous white fluid, the center of her thighs shimmered faintly.
"Enjoying it, huh? Wanting to die, huh?" I could no longer tolerate her seemingly holy spirit of sacrifice. I loosened the chain, letting the finally unconscious Iris fall onto the thick carpet woven with Mediterranean scenery.
How could I stop now? I picked up the whip that had rolled to the side and began lashing it indiscriminately. A moment later, Iris, half-dead from the whipping
, woke up in pain. "Master, your slave is so beautiful, so beautiful that you don't even know who this lowly slave is, or where this lowly slave is. My cunt feels like it's stuck to the collar around my neck, dead. The tighter the collar tightens, the tighter my cunt contracts, the tender flesh inside is squeezed together, rubbing together. And then I was gone. When my cunt loosened, the juices were so hot, I trembled, the juices washing over my tender flesh, making it turn inside out."
Iris's lewd words ignited an uncontrollable lust in addition to my raging anger. I grabbed her little head and threw it onto the carriage window, then slammed my penis into her mouth. I was completely reckless, thrusting until my back ached. Thump, thump, thump! Her hands and feet pounded fiercely against the ground and the carriage walls.
"Ah! You filthy dog! I'll shoot you to death!" I deliberately pulled out a little, letting my penis ejaculate inside Iris's mouth, a torrent of semen exploding like cannonballs into her throat, esophagus, and trachea.
But it wasn't over yet. I tied Iris's long golden hair to the upper window frame of the carriage, her feet just barely touching the ground. She swayed weakly in mid-air as the carriage moved. A mixture of saliva, snot, tears, and semen soaked her upper body, but it couldn't hide her beauty; her slightly upturned lips resembled the scimitar that killed her father. Her vaginal fluids and urine dripped onto the ground, emitting a sweet fragrance.
Iris was thoroughly exhausted, truly dazed, muttering incoherent, nonsensical babbling.
“Brother…I’m sorry…Xiang’er is sorry, sister…Xiang’er really…really can’t leave…Brother can’t leave…Xiang’er and brother…can’t leave each other…”
I stood there for a moment, my eyes unfocused, before finally taking the iris down from the window frame and using her thigh as a pillow, letting her lie on her side. She, like me, involuntarily curled up, still trembling uncomfortably. I gently stroked her cheek, silently gazing at the sinful city of Edgar Allan Poe outside the carriage, its image receding silently before my eyes.
Could I go back ten years in one breath?
“Sleep, little Xiang’er.” I hunched over even more.
“We are all sacrifices, and this is our choice.”

----

He’s running really fast; the old man from the Magic Guild isn’t lying this time.
Although both are carriages, the horses are quite different. Ordinary wealthy people might spend a lot of money to hire some expensive breeds of horses to show off their wealth, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re fast. This new type of carriage from the Magic Guild, however, is pulled by magical horses.
The old man spoke in a mystical tone, explaining that this demonic horse was neither alive nor dead, but a half-dead, man-made entity, the latest achievement combining magic and science. Controlling the demonic horse was an artificial intelligence, or perhaps a program. This artificial intelligence was originally the soul of an extremely intelligent horse, extracted and modified through soul-refining techniques, and then implanted into a sophisticated mechanical body with the aid of alchemy. This mechanical body also possessed many magical enhancements to improve its efficiency, such as a lubrication system improved by water magic.
Mechatronics? Mechatronics-magic integration? Interesting, very interesting.
It truly moved swiftly, and with the air-magic-enhanced suspension, the carriage was remarkably stable. Controlling it was as simple as speaking from inside the carriage. That sensor, or was it a transmitter? What a strange name. I heard it was mercury specially treated by alchemy, a mercury exceptionally sensitive to air vibrations.
The old man was truly skilled!
As the carriage turned, it entered Tanzhe Avenue, one of the main north-south thoroughfares running through Edgar Allan Poe's territory.
"Remove the concealment, get going!"
On the road of Tanzhe Avenue, an unremarkable wooden carriage, pulled smoothly by two tall, black horses, was moving steadily. Suddenly, the carriage emitted a glow, and a strange cloud of smoke enveloped it, obscuring what was happening inside. Only a dense, clattering mechanical sound could be heard. When the smoke cleared, two exaggeratedly shaped wings appeared out of thin air on either side of the rear edge of the carriage's roof. The simple wood grain of the entire carriage was covered with ornate Gothic-style bas-reliefs depicting Apollo's golden chariot, which, according to Poe's legend, pulled the sun rising in the east and setting in the west each day.
"Ah! Look at the pattern on those wings, a trident piercing the sun's halo—the special emblem of the Speaker of the Edgar Allan Po Citizens' Council! That's the esteemed presence of 'Speaker of the Night,' Bourbon Thebes! Long live glorious Thebes!" This curious free citizen, recognizing the owner of the strange carriage by the Speaker's emblem, exclaimed excitedly and knelt reverently.
The free citizens, comprising nearly half of Edgar Allan Po's population, naturally lived around the bustling Tanzhe Avenue. Upon seeing the carriage of "Speaker of the Night," Bourbon Thebes, they all shouted praises, kneeling along both sides of the carriage route. Even long after the carriage had left, some free citizens remained, continuing to chant the name of "Speaker of the Night," Bourbon Thebes, their voices growing louder and carrying for several blocks, attracting even more free citizens to come and greet the carriage.
The same scene, yet interpreted in drastically different ways.
Meanwhile, in a luxurious carriage that happened to follow the mutated carriage, was carrying a well-mannered citizen of Edgar Allan Poe. He caught sight of the coat of arms of Glorious Thebes—a three-legged golden crow with outstretched wings—bourbon Thebes had boldly imprinted it on the other wing of the mutated carriage. He gritted his teeth in hatred and began to curse.
“Hmph, a three-legged golden crow with outstretched wings, fiddling with the hands of a clock, and he still has the nerve to bear the coat of arms of Thebes! Glorious Thebes, now in his hands, has lost all its honor! A prodigal son who disregards tradition! A lowly scoundrel who befriends the common people! A traitorous villain!”
“Apollo’s golden carriage, does that scoundrel Bourbon think he’s Edgar Allan Poe’s master? That presumptuous wretch, he thinks all the citizens are fools.”
"He's turned the Citizens' Council into a complete mess, letting free citizens elect representatives by neighborhood and give them the same voting rights as regular citizens! How could such a fool be born among the citizens? He's like an incurable festering sore, sucking the blood dry from the citizens."
"And those savage Carolingians, stinking and never seeming to bathe. Without Carolingian protection, how dare a little boy like Bourbon act as his accomplice?"
This citizen truly lamented for all the citizens of Edgar Allan Poe, for the long-standing Citizens' Council, and felt indignant. As he cursed, his eyes reddened with tears. He recalled the root of all this change and injustice ten years ago—the invasion launched brazenly by "The Holy Butcher" Sayyah Carolingian. He felt extreme regret and trembled with fear, repeatedly lamenting.

Ten

years ago, the dazzling Carolingian blitzkrieg invasion, though seemingly resolved peacefully, actually resulted in the complete loss of Edgar Allan Poe's sovereignty. From then on, the actions of the Citizens' Council were entirely controlled by Carolingian powers, almost becoming a vassal state of Carolingian society.
Carolingian and Edgar Allan Poe were inherently intertwined, their close economic ties and geopolitical interdependence forcing both countries to exercise restraint and establish a peaceful and stable diplomatic relationship. The people of both nations also lived as neighbors for generations, treating each other amicably.
The long and narrow city of Edgar Allan Poe stretches north to south, with more than half of its northern territory intersecting with Carolingian territory. This area, known as Upper Edgar Allan Poe, is mainly composed of gentle hills and terraced fields, and thanks to its advanced agricultural techniques, it is a renowned grain-producing region in Saga. The remaining territory, about one-third of which is not surrounded by Carolingian, is called Lower Edgar Allan Poe, the main urban area of Edgar Allan Poe, situated on the northern coast of the Mediterranean Sea.
Looking east and west along the Mediterranean Sea from Lower Edgar Allan Poe as its midpoint, lies a long and narrow coastal plain called the Northern Corridor. It borders the sea to the south, while its northern part is almost entirely blocked by the towering mountains of the Dragonlance Mountains. Among these, the most easily passable pass in the north is the Spirit Pass at Upper Illustrated. Lower Illustrated, on the other hand, is the only ice-free port on the Northern Corridor. Because of its control over the Northern Corridor, Illustrated became an irreplaceable transportation hub connecting East and West, strategically easy to defend and difficult to attack.
Overland caravans departing from the Christian Empire southwest of Illustrated, if they wanted to reach the wealthy East, had to detour around the Dragonlance Mountains, traversing the Northern Corridor, and then heading east. Otherwise, they had to risk their lives, venturing deep into the Dragonlance Mountains via the Flying Trail. However, since one end of the Flying Trail leads to the Spirit Pass, located in Upper Illustrated, caravans would still choose to stop there.
Many other caravans, to save costs, simply used Illustrated as a center, relying on the developed shipping routes of the Mediterranean for the transport of bulk goods. After being distributed in Edgar Allan Po, goods were then transshipped in small-scale shipments by land caravans, penetrating deep into various parts of the Christian Empire, or further south to the Primordial Empire, and further north to the Valkyrie Mechanical Duchy.
All of this contributed to Edgar Allan Po's unique geographical and locational advantages, eventually leading to its development into the financial center of Saga. In terms of cultural influence, only the majestic city of Magdalene, surrounded by three rivers, and the underground capital of Suzhou and Hangzhou in the east could rival it.
Carolingian, however, was far less fortunate than Edgar Allan Po, practically a remnant of the Christian Empire.
Carolingian territory encompassed the entirety of the Dragonlance Mountains. The famous Tristram mountain, a landmark of Upper Edgar Allan Po, is a spur of the barren Dragonlance Mountains winding through Carolingian territory. Carolingian people were fierce and savage, with a strong military, and historically a wild land devoid of culture.
The few low-lying areas within the Dragonlance Mountains were inhabited and ruled by the Carolingians. Deep within the more remote, untouched mountains lies the autonomous region of elves and dwarves. Their food depends on the terraced fields of Edgar Allan Poe. Their indispensable fine warhorses are sourced from Calvino on the southern Mediterranean coast, passing through Edgar Allan Poe. The export of their mountain specialties relies entirely on the excellent ports of Edgar Allan Poe.
The surrounding areas of the Dragonlance Mountains are almost entirely impassable wilderness. To the south, connecting with the Empire, lies the entrance to the Flying Path, a narrow pass called the Turning Back Gate, meaning that the ancients turned back upon reaching this point. Following the man-eating Flying Path, traversing the towering Dragonlance Mountains, one arrives at the exit of the ancient path at Upper Edgar Allan Poe, the Elven Pass.
In reality, although Edgar Allan Poe's territory is small, its population few, and its military weak, it is more advantageous than Carolingian.
There are two reasons for this.
First, the Flying Ancient Road was extremely treacherous, making it difficult for armies to traverse. Furthermore, the elves and dwarves disliked armies crossing their borders and might obstruct them. Therefore , Carolingian's formidable army was unable to launch a large-scale invasion and quickly erode
Edgar Allan Po. Second, even if Carolingian's army possessed extraordinary abilities to bypass the ill-tempered elves and dwarves, and fly unscathed across the Dragonlance Mountains to reach the main city of Edgar Allan Po, Edgar Allan Po, with its Mediterranean coastline and numerous overseas colonies, would be rendered useless without a blockade of its coastline.
However, the lightning invasion ten years ago, almost overnight, overcame both of these major obstacles, shattering the nearly three-hundred-year-old balance of power between Carolingian and Edgar Allan Po, and reversing the tide of war.
With the help of the dwarves, Carolingian's army miraculously flew across the Dragonlance Mountains, sweeping through Upper Edgar Allan Po under cover of darkness. Within a short time, they also blockaded the vast coastline of Lower Edgar Allan Po. Even now, it remains an unbelievable feat of cunning, and an astonishing stroke of luck.
During the six-month siege, the previously unknown Isaiah Carolingian ruthlessly slaughtered every member of the exalted Delphi family, the hereditary Speaker of the Citizens' Council. He then turned the street fighting into a horrific spectacle unfolding around the clock for the people of Edgar Allan Poe. With the loss of the most important leadership center among the four pillars of Edgar Allan Poe's political system—the exalted Delphi—the people were filled with fear, and reinforcements from overseas colonies failed to arrive. The Citizens' Council was forced to sign a humiliating treaty.
This short lord of Carolingian, the current head of a butcher family ridiculed by the nobles of the Christian Empire, Isaiah Carolingian rose to fame in this battle, earning the title "Holy Butcher."
The year after the blitzkrieg invasion, after receiving financial aid from Edgar Allan Poe, Isaiah, without waiting for the Empire's commendation, personally led Carolingian elite troops southward into the Christian Empire via the Back Gate and the North Sea Corridor. He was brave, alert, and wise—a rare talent for both military and military command. The Carolingian army advanced with unstoppable momentum, reaching the imperial capital, Magdalene, where they camped before the surging Three Rivers, beginning an even more arduous siege.
After three months of siege, Frieza Namek, the "Wandering King" who had long been manipulated by his lord, was rumored to have escaped, crossing the Dragon Ball Strait and returning to his self-governed domain, the Magic Electric Fortress, on Namek. Saiyan, sensing the opportunity, defied the empire's feudal hierarchy, declaring himself a viscount of a butcher's family to participate in a newly created electorate. Saiyan's methods were bizarre; after slaughtering all the electors who dared to attend or whom he could identify, he led a personal guard and infiltrated the Cathedral of the Holy Souls within Magdalene. After several setbacks, seeing his plan to capture the Pope fail, Isaiah, surrounded by his personal guards, brazenly and without any basis, proclaimed himself emperor, calling himself "King of the Butcher." Afterwards, Isaiah miraculously escaped despite being surrounded by a large army.
Thus, the nearly two-thousand-year-old Christian Empire ironically possessed two powerful emperors, neither of whom were recognized by the powerful lords of their respective territories; this time, even superficial recognition was nonexistent. One was a coward who abandoned the capital and fled, the other a warlord with no legal basis—how could they command respect?
A huge power vacuum formed around the besieged capital, Magdalene, within the Christian Empire. To seize this vacuum, to protect or fight for their own interests, the meat grinder-like war of the Christian lords began. This was the year after the blitzkrieg invasion, and nine years have passed since then. Armies were annihilated, civilians were killed or wounded, families were ruined, and there was still no sign of the war ending.
Meanwhile, Edgar Allan Poe, seemingly calmly observing the internal strife of his powerful neighbor, was actually seething with undercurrents.
Following the tragedy of Delphi, "The Laughing" Rum Thebes was assassinated, and the Glorious Thebes family was inherited by his only son, Bourbon Thebes. From then on, the upper star of Edgar Allan Poe's four stars, the Sublime and the Glorious, saw one family destroyed and the other undergo a major upheaval, falling into Carolingian control.
The Atlantis of the Lower Star, a family of military elites, proactively dispersed their forces. While the high-ranking officials of Carolingian and Edgar Allan Poe were still negotiating the treaty, Atlantis, with the cooperation of the Merchant Guild, withdrew Allan Poe's elite army to overseas colonies. Meanwhile, Allan Poe's powerful navy remained unscathed in the blitzkrieg and continued to pose a constant threat to Carolingian rule. This may explain why Carolingian was willing to sit down and negotiate rather than seize Allan Poe in
one fell swoop. The other family on the Lower Star, the troublesome politician R'lyeh of Justice, emerged with great fanfare as soon as the "Holy Butcher" himself went south, actively attempting to regain control of the Citizens' Council and drag the implementation of the humiliating treaty into a quagmire. In fact, the two families on the Lower Star, one internal and one external, one feigning and one real, one advocating war and one advocating peace, had long ago planned this as a way to counter Carolingian's indirect rule.
Who would have thought that the "Holy Butcher" was not only a skilled warrior and killer, but also a politician with decisiveness and keen judgment of character? His discarded heir, Bourbon Thebes, was initially ignored by everyone, seen as a mere youthful inexperienced. Even the most capable would need decades to build up their strength; after all, Glorious Thebes had always been childless, with a small population and few staunch allies. Despite his high reputation, he was unlikely to cause any real trouble.
But it was Bourbon Thebes, a handsome, soft-spoken man—yes, that's me—who, through the ingenious tactic of recruiting freemen representatives into the Citizens' Council, completely controlled the freemen. Then, by unleashing the trump card of street protests, he paralyzed Edgar Allan Poe. The arrogant Citizens' Council was forced to accept the freemen's representatives. By controlling the freemen, I controlled the Citizens' Council. After all, the free citizens made up more than half of Edgar Allan Poe's population and should rightfully have the most seats in the Citizens' Council. Adding the seats reserved for Carolingian in the treaty, I easily secured over two-thirds of the seats, gaining absolute control of the Citizens' Council.
With the full support of the free citizens' representatives and Carolingian, Bourbon Thebes was elected as the first Speaker of the Citizens' Council after the noble Delphic people.
Yes, that's me, "Speaker of the Eternal Night," Bourbon Thebes, meaning "The Eternal Night of the Citizens."

----

I glanced calmly at the free citizens' worship, while imagining their resentful faces. Hey, they really want to kill me, don't they?
Nobody knows why Bourbon Thebes, at such a young age, could orchestrate such mentally taxing schemes.
No one knows why Bourbon Thebes was born in Edgar Allan Poe. He was always impeccably proper in his dealings with others, never crossing the line, yet now he's capable of such heinous acts, and no matter how horrific the consequences, it doesn't diminish his unwavering resolve.
Hmph, as if I truly possess the kind of ambition they imagine!
The free men believe the "Speaker of the Night" is a born hero, sent to save the free.
The citizens viciously speculate that the despicable Bourbon might not even be a Theban child; after all, Carolingian and Thebans have always been staunch allies. "Laughing," Rum Thebes is careless, and Bourbon's mysterious mother, a Carolingian, never even lived a single day in Edgar Allan Poe.
All wrong. None of this matters, not at all.
I once had a heart of gold, and it has been crushed. For a heartless person, doing these things is truly easy; just do it, it doesn't matter. Just like the evil deed I'm about to commit—it doesn't matter.

---

I forgot to mention, the scenery along the way from Aleph to my destination, the shop of rare magical items in Funi Andalusia, was also quite pleasant.
First, there was a short, quiet, narrow alley—the street where Aleph was located. Sparsely scattered along the alley were some old-fashioned buildings with high walls and deep courtyards, their weathered walls lined with tall plane trees. Today was a rare sunny day for Edgar Allan Poe in spring. The plane tree buds greedily drank in the sunlight and moisture, the street was refreshing, and I encountered vendors calling out their wares loudly, and well-to-do couples strolling hand in hand, the hem of the plump woman's skirt brushing against the dark red flagstones of the sidewalk. Even the drain gates of the sewers seemed endearingly clumsy.
Turning left out of Aleph's narrow alley, I came to a bustling street market, where stalls were freely set up, and the delicious breakfasts and unchanging energy were truly enviable.
Reaching the end of the market, a right turn leads onto Tanzhe Avenue. This is a wide avenue paved entirely with large stone slabs, with four lanes for two-way traffic in the middle. Every ten steps or so along the sidewalks on either side, there's a small flowerbed, the gardener having crafted the Speaker's emblem—a trident and a sun halo. Separating the two lanes isn't a simple metal railing, but a row of intricately carved streetlights, powered by electricity—built with my support of the Magic Guild. The lampshades, collected from all the people of Edgar Allan Poe (including free citizens, but not yet encompassing slaves of various titles), are shaped like majestic three-legged golden crows. At night, a gentle yellow light, pleasing to the human eye, shines from the belly of these three-legged crows, illuminating the entire Tanzhe Avenue.
Tanzhe Avenue is a gathering place for merchants, hence the dazzling array of national flags, family crests, and guild logos. Currently, an open business strategy is prevalent among the chambers of commerce, with many opening showrooms on the ground floor along the street to showcase the unique features of their products. Previously, there were many shops specializing in tourist souvenirs here, but I ordered them all moved; I didn't want this place to become a tacky tourist attraction. I even searched far and wide, finding experienced chefs from the neighborhood who were truly skilled at cooking Edgar Allan Po's local delicacies, and opened several small, specialty snack shops here.
"Go check out Tanzhe Avenue," the locals often chatter endlessly with tourists. "It's very convenient; many public carriage routes go directly there. I heard the Citizens' Council is even planning the 'Earth Dragon Line,' a rapid underground transport device—magic and science combined! Even Valkyrie to the north doesn't have that;
isn't that amazing?"
Heading north, the north-south Tanzhe Avenue leads directly to the outskirts of the city, connecting head-on to Highway 3, the main road to Edgar Allan Po.
After roughly traversing Edgar Allan Po's east-west central axis, you can see Mount Tristram to the north. On a winter morning, the sky resembled a large, frozen block of white wax, the clouds moving slowly and almost imperceptibly. Looking towards Mount Tristram, its peak capped with snow, contrasted sharply with the green pines of its midsection, the bright white of the snow-capped summit, and the waxy sky—the combination of these three elements evoked a heavy sense of melancholy. Looking
west from Tanzhe Avenue, one could see the spire of the Magic Guild in the northwest district, standing starkly in the distance, seemingly piercing the depths of the sky. I wondered if the spire was purely decorative, given its extreme point; otherwise, how would it utilize such a small space? Perhaps the old man wouldn't mind wasting that space? That's not like him at all. Or perhaps the eccentrics of the Magic Guild would have another way?
Having crossed the east-west axis, I should turn east again after a short distance. Generally speaking, the eastern part of Edgar Allan Poe's area was more chaotic and bustling than the western part, especially the northeastern district where the slave market was located. The shop of rare magical items I was heading to was only a block from the slave market, and you can imagine how bad the surrounding area was.
I was almost there, and watching the growing number of free people, I felt neither flustered nor bothered.
I've never been afraid of assassination.
First, I'm not afraid of death, although I would regret it, because I have a mission, and I have my own secret pursuits that I haven't yet fulfilled. But isn't death an extremely elegant release? After I die, will I become a ghost filled with countless regrets? I have so many regrets; which one is my greatest regret? Only after death will I know. I think I'm not even obsessed enough to become a ghost.
Second, although there have been assassination attempts against me, as long as they're within Edgar Allan Poe's sphere, they're all disorganized, impulsive, and reckless individual acts. Of course, what exactly does the Glorious Thebes do? It does the most dishonorable and dark things!
How ironic.
Edgar Allan Poe's intelligence network and the largest criminal organization are firmly controlled by Glorious Thebes. This used to be my sister's job, but after she was imprisoned in Sade by the Butcher, I took over. How could I waste my sister's hard work?
"Hey, almost there. You ungrateful Caroline dog."
Thinking of the Butcher, and then of Iris being his sister, I couldn't shake my bad mood.
I deftly wrapped the whip around Iris's fair neck, tightening it as much as possible until she woke up.

----

"Cough cough cough..." Iris woke up.
The first thing she did was help me clean up. Iris never used a towel to clean me; she always used her own delicate body parts to gently caress me. In the early stages of training, she was very attached to this intimate contact. At the end of the day, if she hadn't gone through this lewd bathing process, she would suffer from insomnia, sleep very lightly, and be awakened by nightmares several times during the night.
Iris straddled my lap, her labia brushing against the base of my thighs. Her clitoris, mingled with the freshly sprayed fluids from her vulva, passionately kissed every inch of my skin with her wet, inviting mouth.
Above, her nipples scraped against my chest and abdomen; her breasts were like cleaning balls soaked in soapy water, yet possessed an indescribable slipperiness that made my penis hard.
Iris closed her eyes, occasionally letting out unbearable moans. Her tongue nimbly slid along my neck, then wandered down my back, licking all the way to my anus. Lubricated by her saliva, her tongue mischievously probed inside, meticulously cleaning the folds of flesh around my anus and the walls of my vagina. Her alluring saliva and seductive scent warmed my vagina, bringing immense comfort.
While Iris bent low, her beautiful vulva swaying rhythmically, her hands were busy brushing my teeth with the pad of her full, white index finger, occasionally teasing my tongue with her fingertip, touching and then pulling away like a bullfighter being tossed about.
"Hehe, Master's chrysanthemum is so sweet."
"That's fine."
"Yes, your servant will help Master get dressed."
Iris knew she had angered me, though she didn't know why, and her voice lowered, sounding somewhat hesitant. She stood behind me, took a deep breath, and dried me off. She paused, as if timidly looking at the scars on my broad back.
"Hurry up! Move!"
"Oh...oh okay...your servant will get the clothes."
Iris seemed to be crying as she fetched the clothes and quietly helped me put them on.
No matter what her emotions or actions, I never explained them to her. I selfishly thought this was my absolute trust in her; I firmly believed she would have no objections to me, whether as the lowly slave Iris or the noble Princess Xianggen.
Today's undergarments were a clean, starched silk shirt and wide-legged trousers, the shirt modified for a looser fit.
My outer garment was a simple, intricately fastened magic robe, a piece I'd taken from the Magic Guild when I retrieved the magic horse last time. This dark purple robe was slightly fitted at the waist, fitting perfectly to my shoulders, and the hem reached my heels. My already unusually tall stature was accentuated by the robe. Broad shoulders, a slender waist, straight and long legs, and arms hanging naturally, almost reaching my knees. My muscles were fully bulging, conforming to my body's curves without being jarring, like a healthy elf. I am over
two meters tall, a rarity among Edgar Allan Poe's men. At the same time, I possess the well-maintained, refined face characteristic of Edgar Allan Poe's hereditary citizens; I am a renowned handsome man. Now, however, I've lost my composure. I often look gloomy, my eyes sunken, avoiding eye contact easily. My gaze wanders, often lingering in inconspicuous corners, lost in thought. My back is slightly hunched, and my gait is slow and hesitant, as if I'm lost in thought, appearing listless.
Iris straightened my collar, smoothed out the wrinkles in my robe, and patted my shoulder with satisfaction. Though her expression was aggrieved, she couldn't help but blush at my masculine charm. Then she turned to get the clothes she had carefully chosen that morning.
"Master, I've put together a simple, unisex outfit to match your plain robe. Will you think I'm not careful?"
Iris's worry was clearly written on her face. She was extremely sensitive to fashion, almost obsessively so. I appreciated her various styles, which brought me a sense of novelty, but I only considered them embellishments, not something I was attached to, nor would I actively guide or encourage her.
It's worth mentioning that Iris is also extremely tall, standing at 1.8 meters barefoot. So, although she feels fleshy to the touch—and I doubt anyone likes the feel of bones—she still appears extremely slender and bony.
Iris wore a tight-fitting purple tank top that reached her chest. Her breasts weren't large, but they were firm, stretching the tank top high and revealing a deep cleavage.
Her jacket and trousers were quite novel, a peculiar style from overseas colonies that hadn't been seen in Edgar Allan Poe's works.
The jacket was made of light blue, somewhat coarse fabric, which overseas colonists called denim. It was made into a fitted short jacket, printed with a row of abstract geometric pine trees, symbolizing the stunning pine scenery of Tristram, with a three-legged golden crow perched forlornly on one of the pine trees.
The light brown trousers were slightly baggy, made of thick cotton fabric, with a large pocket sewn on each side near the knee. On the pocket, one side was embroidered with a trident, and the other with a sun halo. This loose, easy-to-wear style was called work pants in overseas colonies.
Every detail had to be perfect.
Iris wore a blue and white navy beret at a jaunty angle, with a snow-white feather tucked behind her ear. Her brown hair was tied into a small ball, pointing towards the other side of the hat's tilt, as if shyly peeking out from under the hat.
Although it was a refreshing androgynous style, Iris still put some thought into highlighting her sexiness.
The choker was still around her neck, but she had removed the purple chain and replaced it with a platinum necklace with natural amber. The amber came from the Dragonlance Mountains, perfectly round, with a dense texture, and radiating the unique luster of amber. It glided just across her cleavage, pressing down slightly on her bulging tank top, which was held between her two pert breasts.
The pants were deliberately cut to an eight-tenths length, revealing a dazzling section of her calves. She wore a pair of light blue strappy high heels in a similar color to her denim jacket, one strap binding her slender ankle, the other her childlike little foot. Her ten toes were generously displayed, like ten exquisitely carved, adorable hairpins arranged in order of size, only the alluring, damp soles were nowhere to be seen.
As she walked with her head held high, the elegant movements of her feet were clearly visible, as if two crescent moons had somehow appeared out of nowhere, and an iris was gracefully treading on them amidst the wispy clouds.

The

carriage suddenly turned a corner, stopping abruptly in a dirty, dark alley. A puff of smoke enveloped it, and it returned to its ordinary wooden carriage form.
This secluded alley was a dead end, sandwiched between two tall buildings—the kind of eerie place where people could die at night. The shop selling rare magical items was located here, quite inconspicuous. But today, a large group of free people who had followed the carriage had gathered at the alley's entrance, and their numbers were growing rapidly. They peered excitedly inside, eager to catch a glimpse of the "Speaker of the Eternal Night."
"Come on, my dear lady. We've arrived."
I was still angry, but I had to get on with my plans, so I simply ignored Iris, who was tilting her head. She looked pitiful, practically begging me to comment on her attire.
I put on the iconic dark gold magic hat of Glorious Thebes, smoothed my long hair tied back, and let Iris sweetly take my arm. Together, we silently got out of the carriage. My lady's call seemed to have made her lose her soul; she had completely forgotten her earlier unpleasantness and was as happy as a free bird in the mountains of Drizzt.

----

The crowd erupted in commotion!
What a stroke of luck!
Not only the "Speaker of the Night," but also his beautiful wife, Princess Shangen Carolingian of Carolingian, accompanied him. Princess Shangen was a true princess; her brother was the Emperor of the Christian Empire, the great "Butcher King" Sayyid Carolingian. Whether innate birth and appearance, or acquired abilities and character, she was indeed the only one worthy of the Speaker!
I felt Iris's hands clench tightly, and she rested her head against my shoulder. I knew the Free Citizens' discussions made her both proud and happy, yet also distressed and ashamed.
I held Iris's hand affectionately, standing before the noisy Free Citizens, and said calmly, "Disperse, people, go do what you must do. The struggle against a life of hardship has almost no end. Of course, the people include all citizens and all Free Citizens. Long live the people! Long live Edgar Allan Poe!"
The Free Citizens paid their respects to me, one after another, but gradually some discordant voices arose.
"Long live the people!"
"Long live the Speaker!"
"May the citizens' eternal night be endless!"
"No! We should kill all those citizen scum!"
"Haha! Yes, yes, yes! Kill them all!"
"Speaker, lead us to kill all the citizens! Occupy the Citizens' Council! Long live the Free Citizens!"
"You have no idea about the Speaker's profound plans, don't make things worse."
"Talking to yourself! You peasant, do you have the right to force the Speaker to do this or that?"
"Don't you hate those vicious citizens?"
"He's not a Free Citizen, is he? Look how well
he's dressed!" "Strip him naked! Let's see if he still dares to speak for the citizens!"
The argument quickly turned into a fight.
However, within the short distance of less than ten meters between the chaotic crowd of Free Citizens and where I and Iris stood, it was as if there was an impenetrable, transparent giant wall. Not a single Free Citizen shouted rudely at me, not a single Free Citizen defied me, because for the past ten years since the Lightning Invasion, I had given them the right to participate equally in the Citizens' Council. I was fighting for their interests, even risking my life and offending the ruthless Carolingians for them.
Was this worshipful reverence purely out of gratitude and respect for me? Perhaps it was precisely this hard-won equality, so cherished by the Free People, that created an even greater inequality between us.
I turned and took Iris's hand, ignoring the leaderless Free People, and walked towards the high wall on the side of the alley. I selected a few dark bricks and entered the password. Bang! A door appeared from the wall.
I pulled Iris inside. It was a spacious, comfortable room, furnished with Rococo-style sofas and a coffee table, on which sat a steaming teapot and cups. This was the reception room of the Rare Magical Items Shop.
Iris looked around curiously; this was her first time here.
I wasn't worried about the Free People outside. I knew the security team was already there, closely monitoring the situation.
After a while, the Free People dispersed.
Despite the internal strife among the Free Citizens, "Speaker of the Eternal Night," Bourbon Thebes, remained their only guiding light.

----

"Haha, you've found me. Welcome to the Mystery Shop."
A shrewd baritone voice, for some reason, rang out in the reception room. You could almost picture him swindling you out of your money, his sly grin as he counted it alone.
"Fu Ni Andalusia, is it really necessary to go to such lengths? I'm a regular customer, aren't I?" I said irritably.
Iris's eyes darted around, tapping on the wall here, grabbing at the sofa cushions here, and even drinking two cups of tea. Where has my mysterious, aloof Princess Xianggen flown off to? She's become a silly, curious little devil.
“Honey, there’s no magical fluctuation. How did you transmit the sound?”
“Science. The Rare Magical Items Shop believes in the power of science. Am I right, Fu Ni Andalusia?”
“Rules are rules. Your Excellency Bourbon Thebes, the Speaker revered by all, now that we’re so familiar, you should know that rules are rules. The Rare Magical Items Shop not only believes in the power of science, but also reveres the mysteries of creation.”
“Alright, alright. I know the rules. Xiang Gen, take off your clothes.”
“Interesting. This shop is really interesting.” Iris raised an eyebrow in admiration. Without hesitation, even excitedly, she took off her denim jacket and bent down to untie the straps of her high heels. I said there was absolute trust between us.
Iris and I stood naked by the wall, watching as the clothes, hats, and jewelry that had been on the sofa vanished in an instant.
“Hat, watch out for that hat.”
“Don’t worry, mysterious and glorious hat, I’ll be extra careful. Come on, distinguished guests. Greetings to Princess Shangen Caroline, a first-time visitor. Please forgive our abrupt actions. After all, rules are rules.”
“A bit long-winded, 'Rambling' Fu Ni Andalusia. With Bourbon around, I don’t mind.” Iris wrinkled her delicate, high nose.
“Then come on, brave guests.”
As soon as she finished speaking, all the lights in the reception room went out. Without feeling any physical contact, Iris and I both instantly lost consciousness. But it wasn’t fainting, nor any physical abnormality, because we were still standing upright in the same spot, our bodies completely still.

Meanwhile

, in an unknown location in Saga, perhaps near Edgar Allan Poe, or perhaps in some inconspicuous alleyway in the underground secret capital of Suzhou and Hangzhou, Fu Ni Andalusia stared intently at the two exquisitely beautiful naked women lying quietly before him, refusing to look away. He felt as if his soul was about to leave his body, and couldn't help but chuckle lewdly with smug satisfaction.
"Bourbon is indeed true to his word. My two peerless beauties, wonderful! The price is really reasonable! Which one shall we enjoy first?"
Rules are rules, and the content of rules is always man-made. The only unchanging rule of the Rare Magical Items Shop is to negotiate rules with customers without any taboos.
"Haha, Bourbon's idea is brilliant! I've never had the chance to get close to Princess Xianggen in my life. Which one should I enjoy first? Buy one get one free! Bourbon is a rare beauty, he never cooperated with me before! Such a handsome face, such a heroic and extraordinary man, it's just a pity his personality is too strange, I have no idea what he's thinking."
"Come, my little lover Bourbon, suckle my big breasts."
Strangely enough, the mysterious person who spoke in a baritone voice, Fu Ni Andalusia, was actually a voluptuous mature woman with two large breasts. She held her two huge breasts in her hands, like two milk bags, swaying them full. She spread her legs, sat on the ground, and kept rubbing her breasts against Bourbon's face. She even deliberately put her cherry-sized nipples into Bourbon's mouth, feeling the friction of his hard teeth.
"Ah... my little lover bit too hard! It's hard! My nipples are hard! My horny breasts feel so good! Hiss..."
"Hehe, let Xianggen baby have a few bites too. Be good, eat slowly, Mommy's breasts are so big and soft, I want my baby to nibble on them to his heart's content."
Fu Ni crawled towards Iris, and simply plopped down and sat on Iris's lap. Her breasts sagged naturally, rubbing against Iris's breasts. Because Fu Ni's breasts were extremely soft, while Iris's were particularly firm, Fu Ni's breasts flowed freely between Iris's breasts like water.
From behind, Fu Ni's cunt and anus were completely exposed. Her plump buttocks trembled with her upper body movements, revealing a patch of messy pubic hair. A large, round anus, like a gold coin, rhythmically pulsated between her buttocks and pubic hair. Occasionally, the flesh inside the anus would flip out in pleasure, releasing a puff of sweat carrying the pungent scent of a mature woman.
Looking further down, her thick, juicy labia were parted, her clitoris erect as large as a glass marble. Her cunt trembled, and her vagina intermittently released a large amount of vaginal fluid, each time as abundant as urine.
"My cunt is so itchy... ah... my anus is so itchy too... I can't take it anymore..."
Fu Ni cupped Iris's small face, licking and kissing it, not even sparing her nostrils and teeth, and even grabbing Iris's tongue, licking it relentlessly. Fu Ni moved her buttocks up, rubbing her clitoris hard against Iris's pubic bone. Her buttocks spun in the air, so fast that sweat flew everywhere.
After finishing with Iris's face, Fu Ni opened her mouth wide and began to nibble at Iris's neck, collarbone, and shoulders. Her lower body also changed tactics, first pressing her clitoris against Iris's pubic bone, pausing briefly, then suddenly thrusting forward, raising her buttocks, using the lubrication of her vaginal fluids to let her entire vulva feel the friction against Iris's pubic bone. Fu Ni's stiff pubic hair greatly enhanced the pleasure of the friction.
"It's so itchy, I can't take it anymore. That bastard Bourbon won't let me take it any further. I'd pay anything, but he won't even name a price!"
"I really want to fuck Xianggen Baby! Let Xianggen Baby fuck me too, okay? Mommy's fat pussy is so hot and tight, so wet, just go in, push it in hard, Mommy will squeeze hard, use the tender flesh inside my fat pussy to kill you, okay?"
"Oh...it's rubbing my clitoris so much it's going to rot...ah...my labia are burning from all the rubbing..."
"Mommy will fuck baby from behind, I don't care about the rhythm, I'll just fuck you like crazy, I'll keep going, I'll keep screaming, I'll keep crying, I'll keep peeing, baby's butt keeps trying to get forward, but I won't care, I'll just hold your butt and not let go, I'm going to fuck you to death, fuck you into a shameless little slut who only knows how to want, fuck you into a little obedient dog who can't live without mommy, okay?"
Fu Ni was aroused by her own lewd words, her orgasm was just around the corner, but she just couldn't reach it, she was so itchy that her saliva was overflowing, and her vaginal fluid was flowing non-stop.
Finally, Fu Ni couldn't hold back anymore, she rolled over to Iris's right side, grabbed Iris's right hand and shoved it into her fat pussy. The flesh walls inside the pussy writhed, swallowing Iris's entire palm, the first knuckle of Iris's middle finger went straight into Fu Ni's uterus. Fu Ni still wasn't satisfied, so she grabbed Iris's left hand and stuffed it into her mouth and throat.
Fu Ni, holding Iris's left hand in his left, moved it rapidly in and out of his mouth, spittle flying everywhere. His right hand pressed down on Iris's right hand, and his lower body, lying prone, used his powerful core strength to thrust up and down.
The more pleasure he showed, the more frenzied his movements became; at this moment, Fu Ni resembled an ancient demon god devouring a young girl.
"Ugh... Ohhhhhh... Ah!"
Covered in sweat, Fu Ni spat out Iris's left hand, his neck arched back to its limit, moaning wildly.
Suddenly, Fu Ni felt a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. With a soft pop, Iris's right hand slid out of Fu Ni's wetness. Under the dual stimulation of deep throat and fist-fucking, he finally climaxed.
"Not enough... Ah... Ahhh..."
Fu Ni slumped in the wetness, his fingertips sliding from his tongue, across his jaw, and down into his cunt, digging and probing with a mournful expression.
"Who's going to eat me up, Bourbon? Are you awake? Come and fuck me! Come and fuck me! You spineless bastard!"
Suddenly, a strange change occurred. While masturbating, Fu Ni abruptly pulled his hand out of his vagina, as if scalded by boiling water. Then, with a mysterious smile, Fu Ni slowly lay down on the ground, his body beginning to change strangely. All female characteristics gradually disappeared, then gradually grew back into male characteristics, until a genuine, large penis emerged from his vagina.
"Sigh, I still couldn't resist and revealed my true male form. Princess Xianggen's allure is just too strong; I haven't had a sexual experience to match hers yet, and I'm really pent up."
"What should I do?"
"Rules are rules; I can't break my agreement with Bourbon. We discussed it clearly: I can get close to Xianggen, but I can't spy on or touch her genitals, and I certainly can't get any closer as a man. I had to swallow my pride and haggle for ages before she reluctantly agreed to let me use Xianggen's hand to finish. Bourbon's gloomy little face terrified me; I never want to see that expression again."
"But what can I do! Bourbon, you're really putting me in a difficult position."
"But hehe."
"We didn't agree on how to deal with you. My sexual interest in you is no less than Xianggen's. Xianggen just finds it novel and plays around, but you're the goal I've longed for!"
“Rum’s son, hehe. And that Carolingian butterfly, hmph, your son belongs to me.”
The shrewd baritone voice in the reception room reappeared, still excitedly muttering to himself.
“The Two-Bodied One,” Fu Ni Andalusia, this wanton mature woman, this promiscuous scumbag, this uncontrollable sex addict, barely managed to restrain herself, transforming back into her stunningly beautiful female form.
Fu Ni, swaying her large breasts and wiggling her seductive buttocks, crawled towards the unsuspecting Bourbon. A burning lustful fire blazed in her eyes, a scorching fire specifically for Bourbon, clearly having burned for far too long, its flame now dimmed.

----

Not long after, Iris and I awoke in a dimly lit hall, wearing simple pajamas. Because the pajamas were too short, my knees were almost exposed.
“Fu Ni Andalusia, is this how you entertain your guests? Don’t you have any decent clothes?”
“My friend, I believe that being unpretentious is one of your virtues, your generosity.” The baritone voice still came from somewhere.
“Pretentious.” Iris tugged at her sleeve, pouting in dissatisfaction. She had almost never worn such terrible clothes; not only were they unattractive, but they were also a bit itchy, and she didn’t even know if they were clean.
“Come with me, my guest. Our deal can’t wait.” The baritone voice completely ignored her complaints.
Of course, Fu Ni might be in her female form, simultaneously monitoring, responding, and masturbating. Her hands might be covered in vaginal fluid. Fu Ni’s sex addiction was almost incurable and uncontrollable.
"Xianggen, why don't you wander around? This hall has a list of rare magical items from the shop; it might be interesting to browse through it. I'm going to take care of things so we can leave this awful place." "
Hmm, honey, can I buy something? Be careful of that talkative Fu Ni... something..."
"Of course, if Xianggen isn't afraid of being scammed. Be careful of that rogue Fu Ni... something..."
"Respect, cough cough, respect is the foundation of human interaction. Please don't slander. Come on, through the opening portal, 'Eternal Night Speaker' Bourbon Thebes." The baritone finally couldn't hold back any longer and awkwardly changed the subject.
Of course, Fu Ni was probably already lying on the ground, giving himself a good beating. Her fat pussy always itches so much.
I carefully recalled the deal I made last time, hunched over, and slowly walked into the portal, then casually glanced back at Iris approaching the long bookshelf. Her figure then disappeared behind the portal.
Although we have a contract, and I know that aside from her sex addiction, Fu Ni Andalusia is one of the few people I can trust—after all, I know the secret of her dual-body existence—and our relationship stems from the previous generation—Fu Ni's female form was once my father, "Laughing" Rum Thebes's lover. However, after my father's death, Fu Ni became increasingly uncontrollable and unrestrained.
Yet, I still cannot trust Fu Ni. Simply because the chain of interests between us isn't strong enough, and the secret of her dual-body existence isn't enough to restrain her. She or he has almost lost all shame, as evidenced by their offer to get close to Iris.
The Rare Magical Items Shop is truly important to me. How should I deal with this slut, or scumbag?
I hope that item is as useful as Fu Ni claims, enough to help me capture Jinzhan Atlantis, so that things can proceed smoothly.

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