[Fanfiction on The Devil's Law] (19) The Weapon of the God of Slaughter

Author: xiaoyanglaolang
Posted on forum on 2017/5/8
Word count: 20323
In a peaceful and beautiful place, there lived a beautiful but sorrowful young girl.
A terrible and powerful demon king ravaged her homeland.
The people struggled in flames.
Livestock did not thrive, and crops did not flourish.
The demon king fell in love with the beautiful girl and said: "Marry me, give me your heart, and I will restore peace to your homeland and
freedom to your people."
The girl's heart was broken. She hated the demon king and was even more reluctant to part with her lover.
However, to protect her home and family, the girl made a sacrifice.
She bid farewell to her beloved lover and went alone to the demon king's palace.
She said: "King, I am willing to give myself to you. Please forgive my family. I offer my submission."
The demon king said: "I do not need your submission. What I need is your heart."
The girl became the demon king's wife, and day after day passed.
The demon king deeply loved his wife, but he did not know how much his wife hated him in her heart.
Finally, one day, the Demon King completely lowered his guard around his beloved wife.
He stopped wreaking havoc, bringing peace to the girl's homeland.
Livestock flourished, crops thrived, and his people were free.
But he didn't know that the beautiful girl didn't love him; her heart was filled with hatred.
Finally, on this day, the Demon King got drunk. Looking at her intoxicated husband, the girl asked him: "Your Majesty, you are
so powerful, there is no one in this world who can rival you, but do you have no weakness?"
The Demon King, so deeply in love with his wife, let down his guard and revealed his weakness.
It turned out that cutting off the Demon King's beard would strip him of his divine power.
So that night, while the Demon King slept, the girl cut off his beard with a knife.
When the beardless Demon King awoke, he was furious to find himself powerless.
Then, the girl's lover, who had been waiting outside, rushed in and killed the Demon King with a sword.
From then on, the girl, her lover, and her people lived happily ever after.
"Congratulations! Congratulations!"
...
The Eternal Sun groaned, deep cracks spreading across its once smooth, mirror-like surface. Black
death energy coiled around the dazzling flames, gradually dimming them.
"Impossible!! What kind of evil magic is this?!"
DuPont screamed in panic, retreating wildly. An extremely evil power clung to the Eternal Sun
, spreading through his connection with the artifact. A bone-chilling cold plunged him into an ice cave, and the madness
filled him with uncontrollable fear. Even the Eternal Sun's blazing flames and radiant light could not
dispel it; death was ever-present.
Countless vengeful spirits, their lives taken in the carnage, howled. Their piercing, mournful cries seemed to echo in DuPont's ears.
He covered his ears, his pale face drenched in sweat. Countless terrifying memories of these vengeful spirits flooded his mind, causing
him to roar in agony, his head throbbing with pain.
In the distance, Dewey's figure was shrouded in ethereal black flames, hazy and unreal, as if he
existed outside this world. But in DuPont's eyes, he was like the most terrifying demon in the world. He roared
, and golden-red divine flames carried him in the opposite direction towards the sky.
"The entertainment has just begun. Where do you think you're going?"
Dewey sneered, his spear tip flashing. An invisible force instantly pierced through the fragile spacetime,
landing on DuPont without hindrance. Instantly, the space around DuPont froze. He screamed and
fell heavily from the sky like a stone, crashing to the ground and raising a cloud of dust.
The once radiant Eternal Sun Wheel was now covered in black death energy, its surface cracks widening. It
trembled and fell from mid-air along with DuPont, as if shaking.
"How is this possible! Even if it's a divine artifact... but this kind of power..."
DuPont spat out blood mixed with gravel and dirt, roaring hoarsely, his face contorted in a grotesque grimace.
He slapped his face repeatedly, crawling forward as if desperately trying to wake himself from this nightmare. The
unseen and unstoppable terrifying power made even the Eternal Sun Wheel tremble. The indescribable fear was called
despair.
"So it can be used like this, it's really convenient."
Dewey sensed the information conveyed to him by the Spear of Longchinus, as if he understood something again. He casually
tore open a hole in space, grabbed the unsteady Qianlixue, and walked in together, appearing
before DuPont in the next moment.
"Damn it!"
DuPont's eyes were filled with fear and boundless rage. He had never been so humiliated in his life.
Before even truly engaging in combat, he had been so frightened that he had fled in disarray, his mouth full of dirt. His
fear and hatred for Dewey had reached their limit.
The Eternal Sun Wheel suddenly emitted a brilliant golden-red light, and the deathly aura that had been entwining it instantly melted
away like snow. DuPont finally regained some of his senses from the powerful mental corruption of the Spear of Longchinus. A vast
sea of fire rose, and countless fiery beasts emerged from it, rushing towards Dewey in a frenzy.
"Be more terrified, be more furious, because that's what makes it more interesting."
Dewey's wicked laughter was completely undisguised. In the blink of an eye, endless black energy
engulfed the sea of fire and all the fire beasts. The deep darkness permeated all the flames, merging them with the black flames around Dewey.
All the ethereal fire beasts let out terrifying growls, their black bodies radiating an ominous aura, their
blood-red eyes darting around prey. They all turned their heads and lunged at DuPont.
DuPont's expression changed drastically. The Eternal Sun Wheel suddenly erupted with a powerful firestorm
, sweeping away all the fire beasts he had summoned. He scrambled to his feet and, taking advantage of the brief moment when everything was obscured by the flames,
flew back into the sky.
But immediately, he felt himself bound by an invisible force, his body feeling as heavy as an iron weight.
Like water, he barely managed to extend his arms and wave twice in the air before screaming and plummeting to the ground, crashing into the earth
and creating several large craters.
"Ugh..."
DuPont struggled to his feet. The blazing fire of the Eternal Sun Wheel still burned brightly, but at this moment it seemed to be burning away his
life force. His face was pale, and he looked like he was about to burn out.
"Don't stop, Lord DuPont. If you don't want to die, you should use every means to escape from here.
Or should I break off another hand to ignite your passion?"
Dewey swept aside the flames blocking his path and reappeared before DuPont. His demonic whispers seemed to be everywhere.
The black aura swirling around him grew increasingly intense, connecting with the Spear of Longchinus as if undergoing some kind of fusion. His eyes
displayed an eerie, inverted color.
"Ah!!"
DuPont stared intently at him, but before he could answer, an unbearable pain sent shivers down his spine.
Blood splattered everywhere, and his other arm was severed from his body. The spray of blood blurred his vision, and he lost
his balance, collapsing onto the rubble. All his strategies for fighting back were thwarted; his mind went blank,
leaving only the last vestige of survival.
"When people feel pain, they scream; when people face death, they feel the beauty of life. You just asked
me whether it's luckier to live or to die. Now it's your turn to answer that question. But why don't you
take a look at this first? How can you give me a 'gift' without a return gift?"
Dewey released the divine gun, grinning as he pulled a complexly patterned, prismatic magic crystal from his pocket and
tossed it like trash in front of DuPont.
"This is..."
DuPont's pupils constricted; he immediately recognized the object.
"A magic memory crystal, reusable after being emptied, how convenient. You know how to use it, right?
It contains something you'll definitely be interested in, young master of the Sena family."
"You... what have you done?!"
DuPont's face changed drastically, as if he immediately realized something, and he cried out in disbelief.
"To know what I've done, just inject some magic and see. Your father, mother
, brothers, sisters—I haven't missed a single one of them who bears the surname Sena."
Dewey chuckled coldly, his expression growing increasingly ruthless and sinister.
"Impossible, how could you know..."
DuPont stared intently at the magic crystal before him, but something seemed to be preventing him from injecting magic into it. His
face grew increasingly pale, and more and more beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Nothing is impossible in this world. All impossibilities stem from your ignorance. You
have a divine artifact protecting you, but not everyone around you possesses one. I told you long ago,
I knew who you were from the beginning. So, it's simple now. Xue is a Saint-level being; controlling a few ordinary
people is easy for her. You only possess the 'power' to contend with a Saint-level being, but you haven't grasped
the 'realm' of Saint-level abilities. Besides, you've been busy scheming against me and Prince Chen, thinking you're hiding safely
behind the scenes. You haven't even noticed the strange changes happening to your own family."
"You...you...you despicable bastard!! How dare you..."
Du Bang trembled, unable to remain calm any longer, roaring with bloodshot eyes, as if he were about to
pounce on Du Wei at any moment.
"Despicable? Whatever means you use, as long as you laugh last, you're the winner. I'll
return that to you, Mr. DuPont. Isn't this the law you most revere? The most perfect
fairness in this world?"
"You, you..."
DuPont's face alternated between pale and flushed, his mouth agape, but he was speechless.
"Really not going to watch? It's quite interesting. For example, I'll give your father and two brothers a powerful aphrodisiac,
then lock them in a room with your mother and sister. Guess what will happen?"
"I'll kill you!! Dewey!!"
DuPont's eyes were bloodshot, and raging flames instantly vaporized the magic crystal in front of him, the furious flames rushing towards
Dewey.
"That's more interesting, hahaha, it's not over yet, Mr. DuPont. For example
, if you sent your entire family to auction, guess how much they would be worth? Probably the women in your family would be more valuable,
since there must be many men who want to have a passionate affair with the former Marquis's wife and the former Marquis's daughter."
Dewey didn't move, the Spear of Longchinus had already met his will, instantly
extinguishing all the flames. But DuPont's furious attack wouldn't end so easily. DuPont's words were like
adding fuel to the fire. The light of the Eternal Sun reached its peak, expanding continuously, as if it would
completely evaporate the entire capital.
"Die!! Dewey!!!"
Burning with the most intense flames he had ever seen, the life force fueled by anger and hatred, DuPont
roared, the power exceeding his body's capacity causing blood to flow from all seven orifices.
"Anger? Hatred? What's the use of pointless emotions that can't change anything?"
Dewey murmured to himself, gazing at the dazzling red sunset, a chilling smile spreading across his face. The next moment,
endless darkness swallowed all light. Countless black runes, resembling eyes, suddenly
"looked" at Dewey. A tingling sensation ran down his forehead, as if something
was being reborn. The demon horn given to him by Chris cracked, peeling away bit by bit.
On Dewey's forehead, a rune identical to the "eye" appeared where the horn had been, gleaming with a ghostly black
light.
DuPont's unconscious body plummeted to the ground from mid-air.
The light of the uncontrolled Eternal Sun Wheel dimmed to its lowest point, slowly rotating and shrinking. Then, as if attracted, it flew into someone's
hand. The moment DuPont saw this person, his pupils contracted sharply, and his chest felt as if it had been hit hard by a sledgehammer
. An indescribable shock spread through his mind, both familiar and strange.
"Has the Spear of Longchinus already chosen its master? Indeed, you are... the chosen one."
The man stood lazily amidst the rubble, toying with the Eternal Sun Wheel in his hand, a meaningful
smile playing on his lips. Dewey hadn't seen when or where he'd appeared.
"Chen... Your Highness?"
Dewey tilted his head, his eyes flickering with hesitation.
"Well done, Dewey, my friend. Thanks to you, all the trouble is now resolved
."
"Chen's" face held its usual smile.
"That's wonderful, Your Highness..."
Dewey said with a faint smile, the dark deathly aura of the divine spear suddenly enveloping "Chen," the spear tip piercing through space like a venomous
snake aimed at his throat.
But at that very moment, an intense chill froze time and space. A
longsword forged purely of ice blocked the spear tip, deftly deflecting the attack that could even penetrate space itself. Everything
fell silent in the absolute freeze. Long, silver hair, as cold as snow, obscured Dewey's vision, as
did that familiar, cold, and beautiful face.
"That won't do, Aragorn."
Messiah smiled sweetly, appearing like a ghost between Dewey and the other person, casually
deflecting the Spear of Longchinus.
"It's very impolite not to let someone finish speaking, Dewey, my friend. You should have a
little patience to listen to my story, right?"
"Chen" extended a finger and waved it at Dewey, revealing her signature warm smile.
...
Darkness.
Infinite darkness.
Without end.
Withered arms, reaching out from the dark corners, surrounded her, emitting a desperate, piercing scream
as they desperately tried to grab her, dragging her into an even darker abyss.
In the deep darkness, on the frozen snowfield, she was abandoned.
Her pupils had lost the spark of life, her naked body was cold, only the chilling wind whispering in her ears. She
continued to fall.
Without anything to cling to.
Then, she saw light.
...
Cecilia awoke from her dream. She hadn't dreamt in a long time, but this dream was so long,
so real, that she had almost been completely absorbed.
Finally, she was back in reality.
Everything in the room was familiar to her; this was "his" room.
The tattered mage's robe she wore had been removed, replaced by a pure white silk
nightgown, clean and reassuring.
"You're finally awake."
A stunningly beautiful woman sat in a chair, quietly watching over her. Although her beautiful eyes remained
closed, it seemed as if she could see everything.
"Nicole..."
"He'll be so happy to know you're awake."
Cecilia gradually pieced together fragmented memories.
The moment he awakened the Divine Gunner and held her tightly in his arms, a sudden sense of security relaxed her, but she also inadvertently fell back into the nightmares of the past.
"How long have I been asleep..."
"Ten days. Have you been having nightmares?"
Queen Medusa's expression remained calm as always, but her gentle tone carried a hint of worry.
"..."
"I never dream. I only let others dream in the illusions I create.
The combination of past memories and fantasies often reveals the deepest fears within. Unforgettable fears. Some can
overcome them, some are consumed by them, and you... want to make a third choice."
"I'm sorry... Nicole..."
"No, if that's really the case, I really want to see... the world you want."
Nicole said softly, a longing smile appearing on her bright and charming face.
Cecilia's delicate body trembled slightly, her hands gripping the hem of her silk robe tightly.
"Where...is he?"
"I don't know. In the past ten days, many people have come to visit him, inviting him to their homes. After all,
he's the now-famous 'Duke of Tulips.'"
Hearing Cecilia's seemingly casual question, Nicole replied with a subtle expression, as if finding it quite amusing.
...
The room was large and bright, so large that all the furnishings looked incredibly exquisite. Rows of
floor-to-ceiling windows let in the bright sunlight without obstruction, yet kept out the unbearable heat.
The room, originally predominantly white, gained a touch of sanctity from the scattering of light, so pure that
one dared not move about carelessly, lest this spotless place be
defiled by some unintentional, uncouth act.
Dewey sat in the snow-white armchair used for guests, with delicate tea and snacks laid out on the small round table in front of him.
"Don't you like black tea, Your Grace?"
A woman dressed entirely in white sat opposite him, her figure slender and graceful, exuding
an air of sanctity. Her face was exquisitely beautiful, a truly stunning woman.
"Ah, no… it's just that Your Grace personally serving me tea is quite an honor,"
Dewey said, interrupted from his thoughts. He paused for a moment before smiling.
"Your Grace, a few days ago, you greatly assisted my uncle… ah, His Majesty, in eliminating the traitor, upholding justice even at the cost of family ties
, and establishing unparalleled merit, safeguarding the dignity of our royal family. Serving tea to Your Grace is merely a small matter
, but rather, it is I who feel truly honored to serve tea to such a great hero as you,"
Verona said, covering her mouth with a charming smile, gazing at Dewey with obvious admiration.
"Excuse my boldness, Your Majesty, His Highness the Crown Prince is your biological father. Although his death
was the consequence of his rebellion, he was still your father. Yet you don't seem to be very sad."
Dewey picked up his delicate little teacup, took a sip of tea, and suddenly smiled casually.
"Ah, how could that be? My father's passing has naturally saddened me. I've wept every night for days, until
my eyes are swollen. Now I've cried all my tears out, and I can't cry anymore. But the Duke's
father is currently imprisoned on death row. The Duke has been busy entertaining guests and attending banquets these past few days, and hasn't had a chance
to plead with His Majesty for old Raymond. With your merit, perhaps you can spare your poor father's life."
Verona answered calmly without the slightest hesitation, her smile alluring, showing no
trace of her past sorrow and tears.
"Your Excellency is too kind. I am no longer a member of the Rolin family; I am now the Duke of Tulip, bestowed upon me by His Majesty,"
Dewey said indifferently, casually setting down his teacup.
"I see. I almost forgot about that. It seems I was overthinking it. But, Your Grace, there's
something I should tell you quietly first."
"Oh?"
"Just like you're no longer a member of the Rolin family, I'm no longer the Holy Maiden of the Temple.
Let's drop the title 'Holy Maiden.' Although it's not public yet, after a while, once the capital is completely stable
, my uncle... His Majesty, should announce it to the world."
Verona said slowly, her eyes sparkling, her bright, beautiful eyes fixed on Dewey's face.
"Then from now on, we should just call Lady Verona 'Princess'?"
Dewey was somewhat surprised, but considering the woman's methods, it wasn't entirely unexpected. The key was whether he wanted to
do it or not. Unless the goddess herself descends, there probably won't be any Temple of Light left in a few decades.
"If you're His Excellency the Duke, you can call me Verona, okay?"
Verona twirled a strand of her golden hair with her slender fingers, then smiled sweetly. She slowly rose and gracefully moved
behind Dewey, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.
"This doesn't seem quite appropriate, Princess Verona."
"What's inappropriate about it? I don't think so at all. You're His Majesty's trusted friend;
it wouldn't be wrong for me to call you Uncle. By the way, His Excellency the Duke, you seem to be unmarried. Although I heard you had
a fiancée, it seems your father—or rather, your former father—arranged her for your brother
. Now, although many noble families have extended olive branches to you, you probably haven't decided yet."
Verona smiled softly, her slender fingers applying gentle pressure, as if massaging Dewey's shoulders, a tingling,
comfortable sensation.
"I have no plans to marry right now. Perhaps I'll consider it in a few years. Your Highness, thank you for your concern,"
Dewey replied calmly, taking another sip of tea.
"Really? Your Excellency is so valiant and handsome; you must be admired by many women. Among them,
is there none who has captured your heart? For example, your fellow disciple Vivian..."
Verona leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, her breath sweet as orchids in his ear.
"Your Highness, Lady Verona, what do you mean by this?"
Dewey's expression was somewhat strange, as if he didn't know how to react, his body remaining motionless.
"I'm just curious. Everything about you, Your Grace... I like it all...
I want to know everything."
"Lady Verona?"
"I've endured... for too long... I've longed for... your appearance."
Verona's breathing became hot and rapid, her weight almost entirely pressing against Dewey, her full
breasts pressed against his back, seemingly rubbing against him unintentionally.
"Lady Verona, are you... alright?"
Dewey turned his head, seemingly confused.
"I... I never wanted to be a saint. I just wanted to love and be loved like an ordinary girl
.
Now... I'm finally free, so, can you help me, Your Grace?"
Verona murmured sweetly, seductively licking her moist cherry lips. She seemed completely oblivious to what Dewey was saying.
A hazy mist rose in her sapphire-like eyes, and her
fair, smooth cheeks flushed a deep red. She wrapped her arms tightly around Dewey's neck, pressing herself against him.
"Lady Verona, this isn't the behavior of a believer who has accepted the temple's faith in love and purity
. If that person or His Holiness the Pope finds out, it might cause some bad consequences,"
Dewey chuckled, continuing to sip his tea, seemingly unconcerned about her transgression.
"I'm no longer a saint, so what need do I have for faith, Your Grace? Are you really unwilling to help
me?"
Verona's voice grew increasingly seductive and alluring, her fiery body writhing restlessly. Her slender, jade-like fingers lightly
brushed Dewey's cheek, tracing a line across his lips.
"Your Highness, Lady Verona, I can't take such jokes,"
Dewey said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, only offering a hint of helplessness,
remaining unmoved as Verona continued her antics.
"Your Grace seems to be a seasoned veteran; my meager skills seem to have no effect. Or perhaps I
simply hold no appeal for Your Grace?"
Verona sighed softly, releasing Dewey and walking to the window, gazing at the magnificent
tulips in full bloom outside.
"No, I find you very attractive, Lady Verona,"
Dewey stood up and walked behind Verona.
"Really? Your Grace?"
Verona turned her head, a half-smile playing on her lips. Her delicate skin glowed with a milky
white light in the bright light, ethereal and dreamlike.
"Of course it's true, but I don't like joking, and I don't like being stared at all the time
. This should be much better, right?"
The bright room darkened, the sun seemingly obscured by a shadow. A phantom gun hovered
above Verona's bedchamber, and faint chains cleaved from the gun, piercing through the walls and embedding themselves
in the surrounding ground. A powerful divine force instantly sealed off the entire room, an invisible pressure filling the space
.
"Is this necessary, Your Grace? Do you think I pose any threat to you?"
Verona smiled casually, seemingly unconcerned, but her body suddenly began to tremble slightly, as if she were
desperately trying to suppress something.
"I'm a very insecure person, and I'm used to drawing the curtains at home. Although your
words and actions, Lady Verona, are certainly against etiquette, I don't mind."
Dewey's gaze was intense, and he suddenly seemed like a different person, filled with aggression, moving close to Verona,
his face near her beautiful features.
"You really... could die."
Sensing Dewey's undisguised desire, the alluring expression on Verona's face vanished, replaced by
a meaningful gaze.
"I won't die, at least not now,"
Dewey said softly, his expression almost cold, as if all human life had been stripped away in an instant.
"You...uh...uh..."
Verona instinctively took a small step back, her expression somewhat strange. She had barely opened her mouth when Dewey's lips roughly
sealed it.
"Mmm...uh...uh...ha...uh..."
Dewey pressed her against the glass window behind him, greedily sucking on her lips and tongue, making it almost impossible for her to breathe
. Verona instinctively tried to push him away, but the moment she made a move, he held her tightly, rendering her
completely immobile and leaving her at his mercy.
"Ha...ha...uh...uh...uh...uh...ah..."
Dewey's tongue plunged into her mouth, stirring wildly. His hands
roamed restlessly over Verona's slender, curvaceous body, kneading and caressing her beautiful buttocks and breasts. Soon, Verona was
burning hot, panting heavily; her body's sensitivity far exceeded Dewey's expectations.
After a long, deep kiss, Dewey released Verona's fragrant lips, pulling her slightly
weak legs up and wrapping them around his waist. His hot, erect penis pressed between her legs;
even through her clothes, he could deeply feel her burgeoning desire.
"Ha...ha...you're quite skilled...Your Grace...um...ah...
ah..."
Verona wrapped her arms around Dewey's neck, panting heavily as if suffocating, her face flushed, even her ears
were tinged with red. Dewey held her sensitive parts in his hands, playing with them wantonly. Although she tried her best to suppress it,
the continuous stimulation still made her cry out unbearably.
"I thought you would be more used to it. Don't you have any real
experience with this kind of thing, Your Grace?"
Dewey laughed, licking her burning earlobe, pressing her firmly against the glass, one hand supporting her snowy
buttocks, the other forcefully tearing open her clothes, probing inside.
"Surprised? Looks like I, the former saintess, didn't fail so badly. And... I told you
... don't call me 'Saintess' anymore... um... ah... um..."
Grasping Dewey's shoulders tightly, Verona stared coldly at him, panting heavily, her body
tense.
"Indeed a bit surprising, but it doesn't matter anyway."
After pinching and kneading Verona's soft, firm breasts for a while, Dewey unbuckled his belt,
releasing his already engorged and erect member. He slipped it inside Verona's skirt, his fingers tracing upwards along her smooth, taut thighs
until they reached her depths. Then, with a tearing sound, he ripped the fabric barrier, his erection pressing heavily against
her tightly closed entrance, slowly rubbing against it.
"Mmm...so hot...ha...ha...if...if I told you to stop now...
would you stop?"
A strange stimulation emanated from between her legs, her breasts almost completely exposed. Verona gasped, her beautiful eyes
sparkling.
"Stop? Why should I stop? Once I start something, I won't stop. You...aren't you
the same?"
Dewey whispered in her ear, his voice incredibly gentle. Verona's body trembled suddenly, then seemed to
relax as if reassured.
"Your Grace...you and I...are so similar..."
With a tearing pain in her lower body, Verona suddenly smiled, tightly embracing Dewey's neck,
closing her beautiful eyes, and offering her cherry lips.
"Mmm...mmm...ha...ha...mmm..."
Dewey's tongue intertwined with hers, his body leaning forward, using his weight to slowly penetrate her. Verona
's insides were surprisingly dry. Although her body was clearly aroused, there was no moisture inside. Her
unexplored passage was incredibly tight. Dewey's large penis had only penetrated a small part before he had to stop and
gather his strength to go in again.
"You originally thought that your relationship with Mr. DuPont should be very close."
Slowly parting her lips, Dewey climbed up Verona's high breasts, gently kneading them in his palms, his fingers
pressing against the rosy tips.
"Maybe, at least we were instructed to look intimate... ah... ah...
but no matter how intimate we are, he won't want to sleep with me... um... ah..."
Verona bit her red lips, breathing heavily with some difficulty.
The strange sensation of her flower path being gradually expanded by a thick, hot thing made it difficult for her to concentrate. Each time Dewey thrust in, her delicate body trembled slightly
.
"Because...he likes men, right?"
Dewey replied naturally, rotating his penis as he slowly and steadily pushed deeper.
The layers of tender flesh squeezed his shaft, the intense pleasure of being pushed to the limit was incredibly pleasurable.
"You already knew, Your Grace? It seems nothing escapes your notice... um... ah... ah...
mmm..."
Verona gripped Dewey's arm, her long legs crossed and wrapped around his waist, one shoe already on
the ground. Her brows were furrowed, her face slightly pale, seemingly from the shock of being penetrated for the first time.
It wasn't pleasant, but she made no attempt to stop Dewey. Instead, she subtly swayed her hips,
helping him penetrate deeper.
"But he was at least your friend, wasn't he? I killed him, didn't you ever think of killing me?"
Finally, he slowly reached the deepest point. With Dewey's slight, rhythmic thrusting, Verona's passage
became somewhat moist, making his movements easier and smoother.
"I want to kill you, I want to kill many people, but some I can't kill, some... I can't kill, you
understand, Your Grace,"
Verona said self-deprecatingly, looking directly into Dewey's eyes, a hint of weariness flashing in her beautiful eyes.
"Then I must be the kind of person you hate. Did you bring me here to hate me even more
?"
Dewey gripped Verona's buttocks tightly, supporting her weight, increasing the frequency of his thrusts, bringing
his head close to her neck, his lips gently touching her fair skin.
"Ah... um... hatred... I do hate you... um... um... but
... ah... no matter how much I hate you... I can't kill you..."
Verona stammered, each sentence seemingly uttered with great difficulty. As her flower path grew increasingly wet
and slippery, Dewey's thrusting speed increased, each heavy impact forcing her to pause
.
"Am I special to Lady Verona?"
Faint, erotic sounds began to fill the room. Dewey held Verona tightly, burying his head
between her full, snowy breasts, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance emanating from her body. He thrust
his lower body relentlessly, his penis rapidly entering and exiting Verona's tender honeypot,
drops of fluid mixed with blood continuously splattering onto the floor.
"No...ah...ha...it's just...um...you're...very...
very...important...ah...ah..."
The pain of losing her virginity had long since disappeared. Her sensitive cavity was being wildly rubbed by Dewey's thick penis, her tender
clitoris being violently impacted by the hard glans. Waves of unstoppable pleasure washed over her, and
Verona, her body limp from being fucked, instinctively hugged Dewey's head buried between her breasts, finally unable to hold back her loud moans.
"You know who he is, right? Your current uncle,"
Dewey said, his expression enigmatic as he alternately sucked on her two erect pink nipples.
"Of course... um... ah... he is... ah... ah... he is... God
... ha... um... the one who can give me freedom... the real... God..."
With Dewey pressing hard against her vulva, Verona breathed rapidly, pressing his head against her chest, tilting her
head back, her body arching forward abruptly. Clear, fragrant saliva unconsciously dripped from her slightly parted lips, her expression dazed
and confused. In that instant, Verona suddenly lost her senses, as if she had seen some intoxicating phantom.
"Aren't you free, Lady Verona? The flower of the royal family, the saintess of the temple, aren't your identities
incomparably noble? With a single command, you can have whatever you want. What kind of freedom do you want?"
Dewey skillfully licked Verona's nipples, which had hardened under continuous teasing,
occasionally making gentle nibbling motions. Hearing this, he suddenly laughed strangely.
"Hmm...ha...ha...ah...then why does His Excellency the Duke, who rose to the highest ranks of society in a single day...
ah...become famous throughout the world...ah...ah...why...do you only feel pain?"
Verona suddenly snapped back to reality, her ethereal face flushed with a fiery red, panting heavily as she
retorted intermittently.
"Pain? Do I look like I'm in pain? I'm quite pleased now, Lady Verona's alluring figure is
truly irresistible."
Dewey maintained his smile, smearing saliva all over Verona's full, firm breasts, then cupped her
buttocks with both hands, forcefully tilting her forward, separating her from the glass behind her, so that Verona's entire weight fell
on him. His deeply inserted penis slammed heavily against her clitoris, the tip almost
breaking through.
"Eee...ah..."
Verona let out a high-pitched
, delicate cry as her already highly sensitive area received an unexpected and intense impact. Her flower path suddenly contracted, and then a large gush of clear, transparent liquid spurted out, wetting Dewey
's penis. She climaxed instantly.
"So, what exactly do you think I'm suffering from? Do you think I'm suffering because of that guy?
Do you think I'm suffering because I was abandoned by my family?
Do you think I'm suffering because I've been constantly manipulated by you bunch of clueless bastards? No, I'm happy, always have been. I won't get
caught up in such pointless things like teachers, emperors, or friends. What I do
is what I want to do, not for anyone else."
The gentle smile suddenly turned playful and sinister. Dewey steadily dragged Verona's body, his muscles
tense, and he pounded into Verona's lower body like a pile driver. The dull, rapid thuds of the impact were incessant.
Each thrust of his rapidly moving penis brought out a large amount of slippery love fluid, making their tightly joined lower bodies
a mess.
"Ah...ah...ah...ha...uh...ah...ah ah...ah
..."
Verona clung to Dewey, the sudden, violent onslaught rendering her speechless with overwhelming pleasure
. The walls of her vagina felt like they were burning from the scraping of his hot penis. She
shook her head uncontrollably, a distinct flush of desire rising on her pale skin. With each thrust of Dewey, her parted
lips emitted moans of pleasure, her body trembling and swaying,
barely managing to stay upright by gripping Dewey's shoulders.
"How pitiful," he thought, "sent to the temple at the age of ten as a bargaining chip by her own father, unable
to choose, deprived of the happiness of childhood, forced to believe in a god she was forced to worship, even her right to love was taken away."
In the end, it was nothing more than a futile struggle for revenge. But what's lost is lost, and
can never be regained. This is your fate, mortal."
Dewey laughed maniacally, his penis thrusting deep into Verona's body with each stroke, each more violent than the last
, arching her body upwards. The tingling, burning sensation within her continued to push Verona step by step towards climax.
"Ha...haha...that's right...ah...ah...I'm just...ah
...a pitiful...powerless...mortal...um...but...you and me...
ah...um...are the same..."
Verona's bright eyes were like water, sparkling with alluring lust. Her body was covered in fragrant sweat, and her expression became increasingly intoxicated and seductive
. Thrilling pleasure kept surging into her brain. She tightly hugged Dewey's neck, her slender waist twisting
and turning to actively meet Dewey's thrusts. As if unsatisfied, her wide-open honey hole kept swallowing and spitting
out Dewey's penis, as if she were in a frenzy.
"Hmph, maybe..."
Dewey snorted coldly, carrying Verona, who was panting heavily from being fucked, to the small round
table where they had just been enjoying tea and snacks. He swept everything on it, including the tablecloth, onto the floor.
With a series of crisp, shattering sounds, Dewey pressed Verona face up onto the round table, his body pressing down on her. His hands wantonly
kneaded her two high, full breasts, while his
monstrous penis continued to pound into Verona's already muddy honeyed passage without stopping. The continuous, obscene squelching sounds echoed throughout the empty room.
"Ah...ah...ha...I don't know...how much His Majesty told you...um
...you should have noticed some things yourself, Your Grace...ah...ah..."
Verona said mysteriously, her beautiful eyes glazed over, her flushed cheeks seemingly about to drip water. She gently stroked
Dewey's cheeks, her beautiful legs tightly wrapped around him, trying to be as close to him as possible,
as if she had completely let go of her body and mind, pleasurably enduring his tireless thrusts.
"I'm just a pawn, what could I possibly know? In fact, the more I know, the lower my value becomes
, isn't that right, Your Grace?"
Verona's moist and slippery honey pot was already burning hot, the tender flesh of her closed cavity twitching and tightening in waves,
sucking and squeezing his penis like a living thing. The extreme pleasure made Dewey's spinal cord and brain tingle in waves, and
his penis had swelled to its limit.
"Ha...ha...even a chess piece...is not without the possibility of surpassing...ah
...ha...between mortals...and gods...um...ha...maybe...but
only one step away...ah...ah..."
Verona laughed charmingly, suddenly grabbing Dewey's face, sealing his lips with a passionate deep kiss
, her soft, fragrant tongue skillfully exploring his mouth, greedily sucking his saliva.
"Mmm...mmm...mmm...ha...um...ha...mmm...mmm
..."
The passionate and sweet kiss, overflowing with desire, was enough to intoxicate and make one unable to extricate oneself. Dewey
's body was inextricably intertwined with Verona's, demanding from her without restraint. The small round table beneath them
trembled under the weight, and the sounds of their intertwined bodies continued to be obscene. The carpet was covered with splashes
of water.
"Mmm...ha..."
Surrounded by intoxicating pleasure, Dewey's brain suddenly felt a strong numbness.
His penis, tightly fitted to Verona's honey hole, trembled and violently gushed out a large amount of white fluid, filling
her tight flower path.
"Ah...ah...so hot...mmm...this feeling...ah...still
..."
Verona's beautiful eyes were half-closed, biting her bright red lips, she moaned weakly, her breath hot as
the intense heat inside her gave her an unprecedented sweet pleasure. As Dewey continued
to ejaculate, the sensation spread, making her feel light and weightless, as if she had lost her physical form.
"Is it possible? Do you know how to take that first step?"
Dewey casually kneaded the pair of full, round breasts in front of him while slowly rotating his lower
body, as if he had thought for a while before asking.
"Ha...ha...ha...mmm...ha...ha..."
Verona breathed softly, her flawless face flushed, seemingly still immersed in the afterglow of her orgasm
. She glanced at Dewey slyly but didn't answer him immediately.
"You can't not tell me, after all, I am that 'chosen one,' aren't you? Wasn't it
his idea for you to invite me here?"
Dewey said calmly, as if he had already seen through everything.
"Is that so? I thought it was his idea for you to come to me, Duke Tulip. But you're
right, it seems I don't have any other choice but you."
Verona instantly regained her holy and beautiful demeanor, drawing out her words as if somewhat helpless.
"We've never really had any choice, but the future... might not be so uncertain."
Dewey said, his tone somewhat elusive, but he continued to play with Verona's body,
his penis, which had just ejaculated, slowly beginning to move again.
"If fate is a cause and effect predetermined by the gods of this world, then
something that transcends cause and effect is needed to break it..."
"Something that transcends cause and effect...you're not talking about divine artifacts, are you?"
"That's right, Your Grace. Do you know where the divine power of divine artifacts comes from?"
"Faith...and something like that."
"Ah...ha...you really believe in the so-called power of faith...ah...hmm..."
"Why wouldn't I? Isn't that the difference between humans and gods? The Temple Church, logically speaking, has always wanted to
collect this kind of thing, hasn't it? So-called divine power is the power of faith, right? Thinking about it this way, if one needs
to obtain the power of faith that transcends mortals, divine artifacts are the most convenient way."
"Talking to you... is quite interesting... Your Grace... Ah... Ah... You're
absolutely right... Every divine artifact, at its creation... was imbued with the divine
power of the god who created it... Ha... Hmm... Hmm... As long as faith in the gods remains... Hmm... the artifact
can... Ah... continuously draw upon divine power... And this divine power contained within the artifact
... Ah... As you can see... can be used by mortals...
" "You really want to use divine artifacts to steal faith?" "
I have indeed thought about that... Ha... Ha... But it won't work... Ah...
Divine artifacts are, after all, merely creations of the gods... They only share a portion of the gods' power... Hmm... Hmm...
Ah... If one day the gods want to reclaim their divine power... Ah... Ha... it'll be a piece of cake."
"...After all... um... this is God's own power..."
Verona's moans grew louder, every sensitive part of her body constantly
assaulted by Dewey. The thing inside her became hot and hard again, thrusting against her soft depths, increasing its
speed.
"Then all of this is completely meaningless?"
Dewey turned Verona's limp body over, so that her back was to him, then
hugged her from behind, helping her stand up little by little against him. The two of them slowly moved towards the window,
his penis remaining inserted in her slippery honey hole throughout, thrusting rapidly without stopping.
"Mmm...ah...ah...but...ha...ha...what if there were...
ha...a divine artifact that doesn't belong to any god..."
After being relentlessly thrust into by Dewey, Verona finally reached the French windows. The moment Dewey released her,
Verona, completely exhausted, drooped her head, barely managing to stay upright by holding onto the window frame.
"Would such a thing exist? What god would create something that doesn't belong to them?"
Dewey lifted Verona's snow-white dress to her waist, gently patting her high, plump
buttocks, and increased the pace of his thrusts, the loud, clear sounds of their bodies colliding.
"Yes... ah... ah... ah... this kind of... ah... this kind of...
existence beyond reason... ah... the Spear of Longchinus is like that... ah...
ah... and another one... um... ha... ha... its birth... was itself for
... stealing faith... ah... ah ah ah..."
Verona's legs were wide open, her beautiful eyes hazy, enduring Dewey's beast-like pleasure. Her exquisite and curvaceous
body trembled slightly, and the warm honey secreted continuously lubricated her cavity, allowing Dewey's penis to flow
in and out smoothly and rapidly. The intense impact and the uncontrollable sense of shame once again pushed her to the edge of orgasm.
"I've never heard of any of the eleven divine artifacts possessing such power."
Dewey leaned down, his firm chest pressed tightly against Verona's sweaty back. His hands reached down, grasping her
breasts, which swayed and bounced with their intense intercourse, kneading them vigorously.
"Ah...ha...of course...that's how it is...ah...because...this is...the unexpected
...twelfth divine artifact...um...ah...ha...ha..."
Even with her teeth clenched, her soft, seductive moans of pleasure couldn't stop. Verona felt
as if an electric current was coursing through her body, an endless surge of pleasure almost overwhelming her. She could clearly feel every tiny movement Dewey made
, which then transformed into impacts, pounding against her intoxicated heart.
"What...is that?"
Dewey didn't stop, but there seemed to be a slight tremor in his voice.
"The Holy Crown... Ha... Ah... Ah... The Holy Crown of Light created by the Goddess...
Ha... Ah..."
Verona suddenly turned her head, her bright, misty eyes gazing at Dewey, her shimmering eyes filled
with boundless anticipation.
...
The room brightened again.
In the excessively spacious room, Verona sat alone, curled up in her usual spot,
looking out the window. Her long, wet, golden curls cascaded down, and her exquisitely beautiful face showed obvious weariness.
Even the slightest movement caused a sharp, stabbing pain between her legs.
She had already bathed and washed; apart from some faint pinch marks on her still-damp, snow-white skin,
there were no traces of the previous frenzied lovemaking.
"Rosé,"
Verona suddenly called softly into the empty room after a long silence.
"Your Holiness."
A dark figure silently emerged from the corner, coalescing like a cloud of black mist until it materialized into
the form of a kneeling knight, his entire body shrouded in swirling black smoke.
"Opdis isn't dead yet?"
Verona, still gazing out the window, asked expressionlessly.
"With His Holiness the Pope's help, Lord Opdis has almost fully recovered."
"And the Sphinx?"
"Lord Sphinx is tracking that heretic and hasn't returned yet,"
the dark figure replied mechanically, his voice devoid of any inflection, as if lifeless.
"Hmph, what angels, what messengers of the goddess, they're all a bunch of useless fools,"
Verona said coldly, a hint of contempt on her lips, as she tightly hugged her knees.
"Your Holiness, should I go and bring Lord Sphinx back?"
"Let him be. Rose, I need you to find someone for me." Verona
said softly, her expression somewhat gloomy. A bracelet, seemingly made of obsidian, had appeared on her smooth, white wrist
, resembling a black snake biting its own tail, exuding a dark and ominous aura.
"A little girl from the South Seas, named Hanyue." ...
In
the suburbs of a town called Pegasus in the northwest of the capital, there is a place called Leaping Horse Ravine, said to have been...
A divine horse once leaped across the mountain peaks, hence the name.
This place is remote, the roads difficult, and rarely visited, yet here in a clearing in the forest, someone
has started a fire.
A tall man with dark skin, strange tattoos, and numerous small braids in his hair sits
cross-legged by the fire, eyes closed, motionless. The firelight casts a long shadow of him. Beside him sits a
thin boy with similarly dark skin, occasionally glancing back at the dark forest behind him, his face filled with fear and unease.
Suddenly, the boy lets out a terrified gasp, and in the pitch-black night, tall, long
shadows approach, like ghosts.
"Your Grace, you are punctual,"
the tall man says, abruptly opening his eyes to the shadow.
The firelight gradually illuminates the man's appearance: fiery red hair, a faint
smile on his face, tinged with an oddity.
"You're quite trustworthy, Elder Soren. Where's what you promised me?"
Dewey walked to the fire, sat down, and smiled easily.
"Of course I brought it."
The tall man casually patted the side, and suddenly a raised black cloth appeared where there had been nothing
, as if something was hidden underneath. The tall man lifted the black cloth, revealing
two adorable, exquisitely beautiful children, fast asleep without moving.
"To be honest, I really didn't expect that guy to entrust his children to a
stranger like you. Is it because he has good judgment, or because he had no other choice?"
Dewey glanced at the two children and shook his head.
"That prince was able to truly feel my pain, and therefore trusted me. That's why I must
help him with this matter. All parents in the world feel the same way."
The tall man said coldly, still sitting upright.
"Is that so? I don't think it's all that... Besides asking you to hand over these two troublesome things
to me, did that guy say anything else?"
Dewey snorted coldly, then continued.
"That prince said he hoped you would treat his child as your own."
"That's quite impolite. I don't recall ever having such a relationship with him."
"And that promise he made to me, I'll leave that to you, Your Grace."
"He knows I contacted you? Hmph, well, after all, Xue and him..."
"Finally, that prince hopes you can find happiness, and he will wait for you to reunite."
"Huh? What does that mean? Is he cursing me?"
Dewey's expression grew increasingly strange, shifting between light and dark for a moment before he suddenly let out a long, melancholy sigh.
"Your Grace, I've fulfilled my promise. Now, it's time for you to fulfill your promise to me."
The tall man said calmly, though he seemed to be trying to remain composed, his body
trembled slightly uncontrollably.
"Perfect timing. I'm also heading to the Northwest soon. Why don't you come with me? Perhaps we'll reach the
same destination."
"Leaving tomorrow?"
"No, wait for me on the official road outside the capital in three days, Elder Soren. Haste makes waste. Proper preparation
is key to success."
Dewey smiled mysteriously, stood up, dusted himself off, and turned to leave. A bald, burly
man silently emerged from the other side, picked up the two still-sleeping children, and followed Dewey
.
"How...how do you know it's not him?"
After taking a few steps, Dewey suddenly turned back and asked.
"I don't know, not now. It's just that His Highness specifically instructed me that he could only be entrusted to you,
not even himself. I'm just doing as he says." "
Oh, I see. That guy really is..."
Dewey smiled knowingly and slowly disappeared into the dark forest.
"Uncle Soren, don't worry too much. Sister Hanyue will be alright. Father God will surely protect her."
After Dewey left, Soren frowned, his face full of worry. The thin boy said timidly.
"Thank you, Lufik. May Father God protect us."
Soren patted the boy's head gently, his tense face finally relaxing slightly.
...
Another grand banquet ended late at night. There were no
pedestrians on the streets of the capital. Dewey's carriage traveled through the empty streets, only the crisp sound of hooves clearly audible.
"Who goes there? Get out of the way!"
He was resting with his eyes closed in the carriage when suddenly the carriage slowed down, and
the shouts of his accompanying guards came from outside.
"Young Master, someone's blocking the carriage ahead."
Ruolin's voice rang out. Dewey lifted the carriage curtain and looked out. In the middle of the long street ahead stood a
tall, thin figure dressed in a servant's grey outfit, with a square hat on his head
. In the darkness, his features were indistinct, like a blurry grey shadow.
"Duke Tulip, my master invites you. Please come with me to see him."
Two cold, eerie eyes shot over in the night, and everyone who met his gaze felt
a strange chill involuntarily rise in their hearts, swallowing back any questions they wanted to ask.
"Who is your master?"
Dewey opened the carriage door and jumped down, glancing at the grey figure.
"You'll find out when you come with me, Duke Tulip, please."
The man's voice was ghostly, like that of a weary, dying man, but his gesture of invitation
was impeccable, performing all the proper etiquette.
"So you enjoy playing tricks, that's interesting. Come on, I'll go with you to meet your master. I hope
you won't disappoint me,"
Dewey chuckled. He stared intently, but couldn't make out the man's features; no matter how he looked, he
was just a blurry, gray shadow.
"Young Master."
Ruolin's worried voice reached his ears.
"It's alright, Ruolin, you go back first, I'll be back soon."
Du Wei gently stroked Ruolin's cheek and said softly, then walked towards the gray figure with his hands behind his back.
The gray figure didn't say much, and seeing that Du Wei agreed to go with him, it chuckled strangely twice and turned to
walk towards the other side of the street.
He seemed to walk slowly, but with each step, his figure blurred and then suddenly appeared dozens of
meters away. Du Wei snorted, casually tore open a spatial rift, walked in, and emerged from another rift
, already standing several meters behind the gray figure.
The gray figure seemed slightly surprised, but didn't stop walking.
The two maintained a distance of about ten meters, walking from the east of the city to the west, and then all the way north, arriving at
the banks of the Canglan Canal. This section of the Canglan Canal was the largest dock in the capital city. The grand ceremony for Dewey's
father, Earl Raymond, upon his triumphant return from the South Seas was also held here.
In the darkness, this massive harbor within the capital city, silhouetted against the night sky, resembled a sleeping behemoth
. Several specially constructed docks, large enough to accommodate ships of the size of sea gods, extended onto the canal
.
Along the banks of the Grand Canal, at both ends of this colossal harbor, flourishing
districts sprang up. Especially upstream, many businesses had opened teahouses and restaurants,
offering panoramic views of the capital city and the sails dotting the Grand Canal, while simultaneously enjoying fine wine and food –
a truly elegant experience.
At this moment, the teahouses and restaurants on both sides were not yet open, and the streets were quiet.
Dewey followed behind this man along the scenic riverside avenue of the Grand Canal, until suddenly, at a
bend, the man walked to the side of the road, pushed open a door, and darted inside.
Dewey looked up. It was a tiny teahouse, rather
shabby on this bustling street, though its entrance had a certain charm.
A sign above the entrance read, "No vulgar people allowed."
The downstairs was deserted; only a rather dilapidated wooden staircase led up
. Upstairs, a screen stood before him. Turning it aside, he saw the
upper floor.
The second floor was a small hall with windows on all four sides. Only the window facing the Grand Canal was
open.
Near the window, a man sat with his back to Dewey, a silver teapot and two small cups in front of him.
From his back, the man appeared quite old. His spine seemed hunched, his body slumped in the chair
.
The gray-clad man who had led Dewey there stood quietly behind him, hands at his sides, like
a statue.
"Your Grace, I apologize for the intrusion in inviting you here,"
the man sitting on the bed said, turning to Dewey with a smile. He was very refined, with neatly styled silver hair, a clean-shaven face, and fair skin, looking remarkably young— 　　a stark contrast to the weathered air emanating
from his back. 　　"I thought you would have chosen a more suitable time and place to invite me, 　　Mr. Blue Ocean," 　　Dewey smiled back, slowly walking towards the man and unceremoniously sitting down opposite him. 　　"I heard from Gabriel that his brother is someone who dislikes following rules. A simple invitation would 　　be too boring for His Excellency the Duke. Wouldn't it be much more interesting to add a touch of mystery, a touch of excitement, a touch of anticipation 　　?" 　　The scholar, whose learning was unparalleled in the capital and who was also Gabriel's teacher, Du Wei's younger brother, chuckled. His clear, azure 　　eyes narrowed into slits as he casually picked up a silver pot and filled the small cup in front of Du Wei. 　　"My father, Earl Raymond, sent my brother to you. Is he alright now?" 　　Du Wei picked up the small cup, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp, answering calmly. 　　"His Majesty will still give me some face, but as for Earl Raymond, it still depends on His Excellency the Duke. 　　Although whether he is killed or not is irrelevant to His Majesty, everything must be accounted for. Whatever you want to do, 　　you must first make a clear statement." 　　Lan Hai said slowly, refilling Du Wei's cup. 　　"I am no longer a member of the Rolin family. What benefit would I gain from doing such a thing?" 　　Du Wei drank it all in one gulp and slammed the small cup down on the table. 　　"You mean benefits? Aren't the benefits of the entire Rolin family enough? Add to that the reputation for benevolence and filial piety that's spread throughout the land? 　　Who a person is is irrelevant; what matters is what they represent." 　　Lan Hai finished his drink, refilled Dewey's cup, and then his own. 　　"And what do you represent, sir?" 　　Dewey's gaze was intense. 　　"Me? Well... haha, I'm just an old man who likes to ramble on, representing 　　the emptiness and loneliness of an old man's excessive boredom." 　　Lan Hai laughed loudly. 　　"You came to see me, not because Gabriel asked you to, right?" 　　Dewey said without changing his expression. 　　"That's only one reason. The other reason is related to your enfeoffment, Your Grace." 　　"Your information network is quite impressive, Mr. Lan Hai." 　　"I'm someone who can exchange a few words with His Majesty. I heard that His Majesty sent you to the northwest, making the 　　Desa Province, which borders the Great Plains, your fiefdom. Your Grace has probably never been to the northwest, has he?" 　　Lan Hai picked up his small cup and slowly twirled it in his hand, smiling calmly. 　　"Indeed, no. Although I've read some materials, I still don't know the real situation there. I think I'll wait 　　until I get there to see for myself." 　　"In that case, that's perfect." 　　"Do you have any advice, sir?" 　　"Advice is too much to ask. I happen to have someone familiar with the Northwest... especially the situation of the steppe people. 　　That will surely be of great help to Your Excellency." 　　"Oh, that's good. I was just looking for a suitable guide myself."

"Since His Excellency the Duke also wishes to do so, then there's no problem. Come out, Ailu,"
Lan Hai said with satisfaction, clapping his hands.
At this call, Dewey suddenly felt a surge of alertness, as if guided by an inexplicable premonition.
He looked up and saw the screen near the door. What had been empty behind
it suddenly revealed an incredibly alluring silhouette in the brief moment Dewey looked up.
The slender figure gradually emerged from behind the screen—a tall, graceful woman with
skin as white as snow and as smooth as jade. Her white, tight-fitting short dress accentuated her impressive breasts, and her slender waist
swayed gracefully, as agile as a water snake, breathtakingly thin. Beneath her mini, simple skirt, two
bare, long, and firm white legs were exposed, her arches taut, her fiery and alluring body exuding ultimate elasticity
and flexibility.
The strange silver mask on her face had been removed, revealing a stunningly beautiful face to Dewey. Her
captivating eyes possessed an innate allure, yet also a chilling, moonlit
coldness; the stark contrast created a unique beauty that could intoxicate the soul.
"She's also your disciple?"
Dewey asked, unusually surprised, his expression subtle .
"No, Ailu is the disciple of an old friend of mine. Due to some circumstances, she came to study with me for a year. Now it
's time for her to go on a training trip with the Duke."
Lan Hai seemed to enjoy Dewey's expression, smiling slowly.
"If I remember correctly, this young lady is Saintess Verona's personal bodyguard, right? Can she just leave like that
?"
"That was just a task I gave her, and Ailu has completed it very well. Don't you think so,
Your Highness?"
Facing Dewey's question, Lan Hai suddenly changed the subject, his tone meaningful, a cryptic
smile on his face.
"Yes, indeed... it was executed exceptionally well. That arrow... it was truly unforgettable
."
Dewey scoffed, glancing at the tall woman standing behind Lan Hai. She too was coldly staring at him
, her clear yet alluring eyes revealing undisguised disgust, and perhaps a hint of resentment.
"Ailu's archery skills were taught by a reclusive extraordinary person. Few in the world can rival her
. If Your Excellency is interested, you are welcome to spar with her,"
Lan Hai said leisurely, seemingly oblivious to the somewhat awkward atmosphere between Dewey and the tall woman, as he slowly sipped his small
cup of cool water.
"This is going to be interesting from now on,"
Dewey murmured softly, clutching his empty cup, his head bowed, seemingly speaking to no one in particular.
(To be continued)

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