The heavy garden gates groaned open again, this time wider, as the first wave of lesser nobles rolled in on polished carriages pulled by mana-laced stallions. Dust kicked up in golden clouds under the floating orbs that now burned twice as bright.
A fat merchant-lord from the eastern ridge stepped down first, belly straining his velvet coat, two young wives clinging to his arms like jewelry.
"Lord Alden better have that Juice flowing already," he boomed, voice carrying across the lawn.
"So, three days of this right? I plan to drink, fuck, and forget my Shits until the prince signs whatever treaty he's waving around. At least we noble's don't have to think about any of these head-breaking shit."
His wives giggled, one already eyeing a passing guard's crotch like it was dessert.
Behind them came the Luxerian supply wagons —six massive ones, wheels creaking under crates stamped with the City of Hope's golden crest. Guards in crisp black-and-silver unloaded them like they were handling eggs. One crate cracked open by accident. Silk-wrapped bundles spilled out, followed by the unmistakable clink of gold coins—real gold, the kind only hunters and royals ever touched.
A supervisor—thin, balding, veins popping on his forehead—stormed over, clipboard shaking in his fist.
"Careful, you idiots! Those are the prince's personal gifts! If one coin goes missing I'll have your balls nailed to the gate!"
He spun on a group of workers still hanging banners.
"And why the hell are those orbs still dim on the east side? The function lasts three full days—three! I want every noble, every whore, every beggar outside the walls seeing luxury dripping from our asses! Move!"
The workers scattered like roaches. One muttered under his breath, "Three days of this circus and we'll be eating scraps for a month."
The supervisor's head snapped around.
"What was that?"
The worker froze.
"Nothing, sir."
But the supervisor was already marching toward the kitchens, rage boiling over.
Inside the main hall, Lord Alden lounged on his massive carved chair like a king who'd already won. His silk robe hung open, hairy chest glistening with oil. Two massage girls from the Luxerian delegation had arrived early—twin beauties with dark skin, silver collars, and eyes that knew exactly how to survive.
One straddled his thick thighs, strong fingers digging into the rolls of fat on his shoulders while the other knelt between his legs, mouth working slow and deep. Wet, rhythmic sounds filled the private chamber— gluck… gluck… slurp —mixed with Alden's low groans.
"Harder on the neck," he grunted, one meaty hand fisting the kneeling girl's hair. "And don't you dare spill a drop. The prince wants me relaxed, not drained dry before the first toast."
The girl on his lap leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
"We were told to prepare you properly, my lord. Anything you desire before the real entertainment arrives."
She rocked her hips once, grinding against the growing bulge under his robe. Alden laughed, thick and wet, and slapped her ass hard enough to leave a red print.
"Good. Keep that up and I might let you ride me in front of the guests later. Show the prince what real village hospitality looks like."
The second girl pulled back with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to his cock. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled like it was the highest compliment.
"Whatever pleases you, my lord. We brought the special oils from the pleasure district. The ones that make a man last all night."
Alden's eyes rolled back as she took him deep again. The sounds grew louder, filthier. Outside the chamber door, two servants waited with fresh towels, pretending they heard nothing.
Down the corridor, Torren—twenty-seven, long matted hair tangled to his waist, beard wild and unkempt—shuffled past like a ghost who'd forgotten he was alive. His clothes hung off him like rags on a scarecrow. He stared at the floor, eyes glassy, muttering to himself.
"Party… engagement… right. Father said something about a hunt. Or was it a feast? Doesn't matter. Nothing matters."
He didn't notice the two maids who scurried past him, one still adjusting her torn uniform from the earlier "interview" with the guards. Torren just kept walking, lost in whatever fog lived behind his eyes. No one bothered to explain the carriages, the gold, or the fact that his brother Arun still lay upstairs like a broken doll. He had no idea the whole village was being squeezed dry for this three-day spectacle.
Outside the mansion walls, the smell of roasting meats and spiced wine drifted over the gate like a cruel promise.
A line of village beggars had already formed along the outer fence—ragged men, hollow-cheeked women, a few kids with dirt-streaked faces. Stray dogs wove between their legs, noses twitching, tails wagging at the rich scents.
One old beggar licked cracked lips.
"Smells like heaven out there. They throwin' a party. That's means we can beg for the scraps again."
A younger man beside him, ribs showing through his shirt, spat on the ground.
"Scraps? We'll be lucky if they don't set the dogs on us for getting too close. Last party they had, guards whipped three men just for looking at the tables too long."
The dogs whined, one bold mutt pressing its nose through the iron bars. A guard on the wall noticed and laughed.
"Look at 'em. Like animals waiting for table leavings. Stay back or we'll give you something hotter than soup."
The beggars shifted but didn't leave. The food smells were too strong, the promise of even a single crust too tempting.
Back inside, the supervisor stormed through the garden again, face purple.
"The Luxerian pleasure girls are twenty minutes out and half the lanterns still aren't lit! I swear on every Pisa in the treasury—if this party isn't perfect, I'll personally flog every last one of you!"
A passing noble overheard and chuckled.
"Relax, man. Three days of wine, gold, and fresh meat. Even your lord's whores will be smiling by the end."
The supervisor didn't smile back. He just kept barking orders, voice cracking like a whip.
In the massage chamber, Alden groaned louder, hips bucking up into the girl's throat. The other girl kissed his neck, whispering filthy promises about what the incoming Luxerian girls could do with their tongues.
The party hadn't even officially started.
And already the mansion felt like it was one spark away from burning down in the most delicious way possible.
Torren shuffled past the chamber door, still muttering to no one.
"Feast… hunt… whatever."
He had no clue of any thing in this world.
The afternoon sun beat down on the wide dirt road outside the Luxeria Hunters Guild like it had a personal grudge. Dust hung thick in the hot air, stirred up by heavy cargo wagons creaking past the side gate. Mana-lamps flickered lazily overhead even in daylight, their soft blue glow almost invisible under the harsh sun.
Two workers in sweat-soaked tunics strained under a long wooden crate stamped in bold red letters:
ANIUM – CLASS S – RESTRICTED
The older one, beard streaked with gray and dust, wiped his forehead with a filthy rag.
"Easy on that corner, boy. This batch came straight from the deep mines. One wrong tilt and the whole thing turns to worthless powder before it even hits the forge."
The younger guy grunted, muscles bulging as they lowered the crate onto the wagon bed with a heavy thud.
"Deep mines? You mean the ones where three guys died last month? They say the raw ore glows red in the dark down there. Burns your lungs if you breathe it too long."
"Yeah, that's the real shit," the older man said, slapping the side of the crate. "Takes weeks to process right. Mana-forgers in full masks, special cooling chambers, runes that cost more than my damn house. One mistake and boom—whole batch explodes. Only the nobles and the top guild brass can afford the pure crystals. The rest of us? We get the watered-down crap that barely stops a bleeding nose."
The younger worker laughed bitterly, wiping sweat from his neck.
"Pure Anium… you know, one tiny crystal the size of your thumb can keep a dying man breathing for days. Heals flesh, bone, even the soul if the stories are true. But for us regular folk? Forget it. We get the fake shit that turns to dust after one use. Still costs half a month's pay though."
They both shared a tired chuckle as another wagon rolled past, wheels groaning under more crates. The smell of hot metal and faint ozone drifted from the cargo—raw power sealed inside wood and iron.
Inside the guild, the chaos was already boiling over.
Behind the thick double doors, Seryth Vossara was breaking.
Her back slid down the cool stone wall until her ass hit the floor. Long pink hair clung to her sweat-drenched cheeks in damp strands. Golden eyes squeezed shut tight. For the third time today the pain slammed into her skull like a white-hot hammer.
Thump… thump… thump…
The plague.
It only ever came for Vipers. Never anyone else. She had laughed with Reon and teased Shizu like a normal girl for one sweet moment and the pain had gone quiet. Now it was punishing her for forgetting.
She pressed both palms to her temples, nails digging into her scalp until it stung.
Mother… still coughing black blood in the hidden nests…
My sister out there alone, hunting for scraps…
Friends dying one by one… the last of us…
I'm their queen. I'm supposed to fix this.
Her breath came in short, ragged gasps.
Anium… pure Anium is the only thing that might work. It heals flesh, blood, even the soul. It has to heal this curse.
But right now Reon was bleeding out on the other side of that door.
She could hear everything. Steel clashing. Men shouting. Shizu screaming his name. Vohn's smug voice slicing through it all like a poisoned blade.
Seryth's vision blurred red. She forced herself up on shaking legs, one hand braced against the doorframe.
He told me to stay hidden… he told me…but
No time to heal herself. No time for the cure she still hadn't finished. Her human form was cracking at the edges, but she couldn't leave him. Not like this.
He could have killed me when he found me. A human. A man. The only one who didn't see a monster.
Instead he shielded me.
If he dies here… there is no Anium. No cure. No future for any of us.
She bit her lip until it bled.
One step. Just one.
Her fingers curled around the door handle.
For him.
For them.
With the last drop of venom she had left in her veins, she shoved the door open and stepped into hell.
The guild hall smelled like iron and fear.
Reon Fairmont stood in the center of the slaughter, chest heaving, blood pouring from the deep gash across his ribs. His black shirt hung in bloody rags. A fresh sword cut ran from his left elbow all the way to his wrist. Every heartbeat sent more red dripping onto the marble floor.
drip… drip… drip…
Vohn Celestine stood on the raised platform, one arm locked tight around Shizu's waist, the other pressing a glowing crystal dagger to her throat. Shizu's silver-blue hair was wild, her teal crop top torn at the shoulder, blue eyes blazing with fury and terror.
"Enough games, boy," Vohn said, voice smooth as poisoned honey. "Drop the sword or I open her pretty throat right here while everyone watches."
The guild master stood beside him, face purple with rage.
"Take him alive! Chain the bastard! He attacked a Celestial noble inside my guild. That's a death sentence!"
Twenty fresh guards poured in from the side doors, spears lowered, mana-cuffs ready. Recording crystals floated everywhere, red lights blinking as hunters and staff filmed every second.
Reon's grip tightened on the stolen sword. Blood ran down his fingers.
Shizu struggled against Vohn's arm. "Reon—run, you idiot! Just go!"
He didn't move. His crimson eyes burned.
Behind the crowd, the door creaked open.
Seryth Vossara stepped into the light.
Her long pink hair swayed with every unsteady step. The red-gold bikini armor clung to her curves. Golden eyes glowed with the last of her strength.
She raised one trembling hand.
Venomous Charm – Activated.
A wave of sweet, heavy scent rolled across the hall. Pink-purple threads of energy wrapped around every male throat.
The guild master's eyes rolled back. His knees buckled.
Vohn's perfect face went slack. The dagger slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
Every guard, every hunter, every man filming with a crystal froze mid-breath—paralyzed, pupils blown wide, bodies locked like statues.
Shizu suddenly found herself free. She stumbled forward.
Reon's eyes widened. "Seryth—!"
She gave him one weak, bloody smile.
Then her legs gave out. She collapsed forward, hitting the marble hard. Pink hair fanned around her like spilled blood.
The charm held for three heartbeats.
Then the anti-magic barrier screamed to life.
A deep golden dome snapped over the entire guild hall. The air crackled. Every spell, every charm, every drop of magic died instantly.
The men gasped back to life, shaking their heads like they'd been slapped awake from the best dream of their lives.
Vohn staggered, fury twisting his handsome face into something ugly.
"Kill them! Kill all three—NOW!"
The guild master roared, "Guards! Take the Viper bitch first—she broke guild law!"
Reon lunged forward, sword raised, blood spraying from his wounds. He grabbed Shizu with one arm and tried to reach Seryth, but the fresh wave of guards was already closing in like wolves.
Shizu pressed her hands to the gash on his ribs, trying to heal, but the barrier blocked even her magic.
"Reon—system—anything—please!" she begged, voice cracking.
Reon's voice tore out of him raw.
"System! You fucking bitch! How much longer?! Answer me or I swear I'll rip you out of my head myself!"
Silence.
Then—
[SYSTEM UPDATE – 100% COMPLETE]
Void Weaver System – Beta 2.0 Online
A golden panel exploded in front of Reon's eyes. Shizu could see it too. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath as the new interface flooded their vision.
[REAL-TIME ANIUM TRACKER – LIVE]
Current Anium: 58,685 Units
Farming Rate: +40 per 30 seconds (idle)
[NEW FEATURES UNLOCKED]
• Void Binding Core v2.0 – Create complex matter instantly
• Level-Up Module – Accelerated progression (kills now grant 5x XP)
• Intelligent Mode – Learn and master new skills in seconds
• Real-Time Mission Finder – Dynamic quests with Anium + level rewards
• World Map – Private virtual overlay (only you can see)
• Personal Targets & Goals – Set objectives. System will guide, empower, and flood you with Anium like raw XP
Reon's bloody lips curled into a feral grin.
The guards charged.
But for the first time since the fight started, the numbers were finally on his side.
He looked down at Seryth's unconscious body, then at Shizu, then at the sea of men rushing him.
"Finally," he whispered, voice low and dark.
The golden panel pulsed brighter.
[MISSION GENERATED]
Emergency Extraction
Escape the guild with both companions alive.
Reward: 3000 Units of Anium + 650 XP
Failure: Permanent capture and public execution
Reon laughed once— low, dark, and full of promise.
"Game on."
The anti-magic barrier hummed above them like a golden cage.
The guards closed in, spears glinting.
Seryth lay still on the cold floor.
Shizu's hands were pressed tight to Reon's bleeding side, blue eyes wide with terror and desperate hope.
And the brand-new Beta 2.0 System waited for his first command.
Chapter 20 is Loading...