Chapter 689: Surrounded by Perverts [Bonus - ]

Chapter 689: Surrounded by Perverts [Bonus Chapter]

"We’ve all been played for fools, that’s what," the girl spat. "It wasn’t Master C.X.I.D. at all! Some third-rate grifter from the outer ring hired a team of illusionists, rented the pavilion, slapped on a porcelain fox mask, and was charging fifty Spirit Credits for forged signatures on bootleg copies... The Enforcers caught on ten minutes ago. The whole thing was a sham!"

Aeliana’s breath hitched as she turned her gaze toward the center of the pavilion.

Sure enough, four heavily armored city guards clad in dark-blue runic plate were currently hauling a kicking screaming man in an ornate white robe out from behind the velvet-draped desk.

The porcelain fox mask had been knocked askew, revealing the sweaty terrified face of a greasy middle-aged merchant who was being shoved headfirst into the back of an enclosed enforcement van.

The fake master was still screaming about artistic integrity when the van door slammed shut on him.

"Well... dammit," Aeliana murmured, her shoulders slumping into a rare tragic display of defeated posture.

Beside her, Morwenna clasped her hands together behind her back, closing her eyes and sending up a silent grateful prayer to every sea deity she had ever worshiped across five centuries of drifting.

’Thank you, ocean spirits,’ Morwenna thought, a viciously satisfied grin spreading across her face. ’Thank you for preserving whatever tiny scrap of our Lord’s dignity we had left... The gods truly do hate degenerate literature.’

"What a tragedy," Morwenna said aloud, her voice thick with fake sympathy as she patted Aeliana’s green shoulder. "A true, heart-wrenching loss for the literary world. Now, if your mourning period is concluded, let’s get to work."

Without waiting for the elf to complain, Morwenna stepped to the curb of the elevated avenue, raising her long arm and waving vigorously at the line of yellow vehicles gliding along the magnetic guide-rail.

HUUUUUM!

A sleek four-door yellow cab decelerated with a high-pitched whine of magnetic dampers, smoothly pulling up to the curb.

The glass window of the driver’s side wound down, revealing a middle-aged dwarven man with a salt-and-pepper beard braided into neat iron clasps and a pair of brass driving goggles pushed up onto his furrowed brow.

He glanced at the tall pirate queen with the curved saber at her hip, his brows furrowing in mild professional wariness.

Before the driver could ask for their fare, Aeliana stepped up to the window.

With an elegant fluid motion, she pulled back the deep cowl of her green cloak just enough to reveal the ethereal porcelain perfection of her face, the faint radiant glow of her long blond hair, and the distinct unmistakable curve of her royal elven ears.

In her pale palm, she flashed the obsidian Blessed Land ID Card, the silver twin-leaf crest glowing with undeniable authority.

"Greetings, master charioteer," Aeliana spoke, her melodic cadence instantly commanding the small space. "I am Lady Aeliana of Blessed Land... We require immediate transit through the upper and commercial districts to fulfill an urgent sovereign commission. You shall be compensated five times your standard hourly tariff."

The dwarf’s eyes widened to the size of teacups.

He fumbled with his steering yoke, his posture snapping into a rigid flustered salute against the dashboard.

"B-By the deep forge! Lady of Blessed Land!" the driver stammered, his eyes darting between her radiant face and the glowing sovereign card. "I would be honored! It’s a privilege! However... ah... there is a minor complication, your Ladyship."

Morwenna’s scowl returned instantly. "What complication? You’re a cab, aren’t you? Drive..."

"I am currently mid-fare, miss!" the dwarf explained hastily, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder toward the rear passenger compartment. "I picked up an esteemed customer at the Sky-Pier three minutes ago. Company bylaws strictly forbid ejecting a paying passenger mid-transit without their express consent. If your Ladyship doesn’t mind... I would simply need to deposit her at her designated stop first, and then the vehicle is at your command!"

Whirrr!

The tinted rear passenger window wound down with a quiet smooth hum.

Leaning her arm against the doorframe was a woman.

She possessed a striking gorgeous face, framed by a luxuriant cascade of bone-white hair that fell in loose, heavy waves over a tailored traveling coat of charcoal silk.

She was clearly an older woman, carrying the mature intoxicating poise of someone who had seen centuries come and go, yet her skin was as smooth as polished jade... looking untouched by a single wrinkle.

The only jarring feature was a striking bizarre marking on the right side of her face... a thick vibrant line of deep crimson paint that originated directly beneath her right eye, curving outward in a sharp elegant crescent over her cheekbone before plunging straight down across her jawline to terminate at the edge of her chin.

She tilted her head, her dark heavy-lidded eyes sweeping over Aeliana and Morwenna with a slow amused glint that seemed to peel through their traveling cloaks in a single heartbeat.

"I don’t mind sharing the carriage, driver," the white-haired woman said. "It would be terribly rude of me to force an Elf and her fierce companion to wait on the curb in the midday sun... Hop in, little ones. There’s plenty of leather to go around."

Aeliana’s face brightened instantly. "How remarkably generous! We accept with deepest gratitude."

"Wait, hold on—" Morwenna began, her hand reaching out to grab the elf’s cloak.

It was too late.

Aeliana had already clicked the rear door open, sliding gracefully onto the plush velvet cushions of the backseat with her green robes settling around her ankles.

The driver unlocked the front passenger door. "Plenty of room up front for the warrior, miss!"

Morwenna stood on the curb for three full seconds, her pirate instincts screaming a warning siren down the length of her spine.

There was ample room in the back.

The rear lounge of the cab was wide enough to seat three adults comfortably without rubbing shoulders yet, as Morwenna looked through the window at the white-haired woman sitting gracefully in the corner, a cold prickly shudder crawled over the nape of her neck.

’My senses in this regard have never failed me...’ Morwenna thought, her jaw clenching as she analyzed the stranger’s posture.

The woman looked composed and dignified but beneath that polished, mature exterior, there was a faint unmistakable aura humming around her.

’Ah...’

It was a heavy suffocating musk of degeneracy.

Morwenna was no saint.

She was fully aware of her own twisted, perverted habits... she knew she was a degenerate who secretly relished the thought of being cucked, who secretly touched herself at night to the vivid mental images of Silas dominating other women while she waited in the shadows for her turn.

She owned that shame.

’But that woman...’ Morwenna thought, a drop of cold sweat sliding down her temple, ’...that woman is on an entirely different dimensional plane of perversion... She makes Aeliana look like an innocent novice from a cloister. If I sit in the back with those two, the thickness of their combined filth will curdle my blood.’

Without a single word, Morwenna yanked the front door open, hauled Tidebringer’s scabbard clear of the seat, and slammed the door shut, locking it with a sharp aggressive click.

"Drive," Morwenna barked at the driver, staring straight ahead through the windshield and refusing to look into the rearview mirror.

"Right away, miss!"

VUUUUUUM!

The magnetic engine engaged with the cab smoothly accelerating into the flowing current of elevated traffic, soaring high above the marble arches of the commercial district.

Below them, Central City slid past in layers... market awnings, sky-bridges, a river of lanterns, and a dragon-shaped balloon trailing a banner for cheap lodging.

The dwarven driver glanced at Aeliana in the rearview mirror.

"Where is the destination for the sovereign commission, Lady Aeliana? I’ll input the coordinates into the navigational panel."

Aeliana pulled the folded list from her robes with her finger tracing down the neat orderly calligraphy Lady Aki had penned that morning.

"We are seeking the Grand Artificer’s Foundries of the Iron Spire," Aeliana read, carefully spelling out the ancient runic address. "Specifically, the master wholesale pavilion operated by the Black-Iron Forge Syndicate in the Fourth Ring..."

The driver let out a booming relieved chuckle, tapping his steering yoke with a heavy thumb.

"Well, how about that for luck!" the dwarf grinned, glancing back at the white-haired woman. "That’s identical to our first fare’s destination! Madam here booked a straight route to the very same courtyard!"

Aeliana turned her head, her silver-green eyes widening in delightful surprise. "Truly? What a remarkably pleasant coincidence!"

The white-haired woman offered a slow knowing smile, the crimson crescent beneath her eye catching the sunlight.

"A pleasant coincidence indeed, little one... The flow of fate moves in mysterious currents."

Her dark eyes drifted downward, landing squarely on the thick, crimson-leather volume resting upon Aeliana’s lap with the well-worn dog-eared copy of [Bound by the Dragon Lord’s Heat].

A subtle amused spark flared in the woman’s gaze.

"Tell me, child," the white-haired woman purred softly, leaning forward until her perfume which was a heavy intoxicating blend of night-blooming jasmine and burning cinnamon, filled the rear compartment. "Do you enjoy that particular work?"

Aeliana gasped.

Her spine went rigid, her hands immediately clasping the book against her chest as if she had just found a fellow priestess of a sacred order.

"Enjoy it?!" Aeliana breathed, her voice trembling with passionate, unvarnished devotion. "Madam, ’enjoy’ is an insult to the literary brilliance contained within these pages! I have read this divine manuscript three times from cover to cover! The prose! The emotional vulnerability! The staggering breathtaking detail with which the author describes the dragon during the mating cycle... It is perfection! I have spent the last forty-five minutes standing in the public square, awaiting Master C.X.I.D.’s arrival for an official inscription, only to discover that the entire assembly was an abominable sham orchestrated by a deceitful merchant!"

The white-haired woman chuckled, a low throat-deep sound that vibrated with delicious wicked amusement.

"Is that so?" she murmured, tapping her chin with a polished, manicured fingernail. "A sham, you say? How utterly tragic. But tell me... which Chapter captured your innocent heart the most?"

"Chapter Fourteen!" Aeliana answered without a microsecond of hesitation, her cheeks glowing a radiant, sinful pink. "The sacred chamber beneath the volcanic roots, where the Dragon Lord binds her wrists with molten mana-chains and informs her that her core shall be refilled until her spirit pathways overflow with his essence! The philosophical depth of her absolute submission... it brought tears to my eyes!"

’What are these girls reading...?’ Morwenna thought.

"Ah, yes," the older woman nodded thoughtfully, her eyes gleaming with dark scholarly appreciation. "Chapter Fourteen is quite popular. Though technically speaking, the pacing in Chapter Twenty-Two, where the dragon’s second form emerges mid-coitus, forcing the heroine to cycle her lunar foundation just to survive the expansion, demonstrates a far superior understanding of that kind of friction."

"Yes! Exactly!" Aeliana practically squealed, leaning forward on the velvet seat, her hands gesticulating wildly as she dove headfirst into an exhaustive analysis of intercourse between a dragon and an elf.

In the front passenger seat, Morwenna slammed both hands over her ears.

’I knew it,’ Morwenna wept internally with her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth grinding together so violently her jaw ached. ’I fucking knew it! This is exactly what I was terrified of! Two complete perverts trapped in an enclosed metal box, discussing the friction of a mythical dragon’s cock at sixty miles per hour!’

Did they have no shame?! Did the concept of public decency simply not exist in this cursed city?!

Morwenna glanced sideways toward the driver’s seat, desperate to share an exasperated, comradely grimace with the working-class dwarf.

Her jaw dropped.

The dwarf was humming happily to himself, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

Stuck firmly inside both of his hairy ears were two glowing noise-canceling runic ear-buds, pulsing with a blue isolation mana that completely blocked out every single sound within the vehicle.

’You bastard,’ Morwenna cursed him in her mind, her soul burning with pure, unadulterated envy. ’You prepared for this! You knew who you picked up, and you sealed your own ears! Coward! Traitor to the working class!’

Her hands were beginning to cramp.

Morwenna hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Curiosity, that wretched fatal pirate instinct, gnawed at the back of her brain.

Was it really that bad? Maybe they had shifted the conversation toward the supplies? Maybe they were discussing the price of mythril?

Slowly, carefully, Morwenna lifted her right hand by half an inch, exposing her ear to the air.

"...and so, when the third knot expands within the spiritual cervix," Aeliana was saying with breathless seriousness, "the resulting soul-shock forces the female to accept the dragon’s surname whether her family approves or not—"

CLAP!

Morwenna slapped her hand back over her ear with enough force to ring her skull.

’BURN IT!’ Morwenna screamed inside the silent howling confines of her own mind. ’Burn the book! Burn the publisher! Burn the printing presses! Track down this C.X.I.D. bastard and feed them to a kraken! I’m going to personally burn every single copy in Blessed Land before Silas sees a single page!’