Chapter 701: Whatever It Takes To Win [Bonus - ]

Chapter 701: Whatever It Takes To Win [Bonus Chapter]

The living room of the penthouse suite felt as if it had been plunged into the deep sea.

Heavy invisible sheets of crushing pressure pressed down onto the velvet upholstery with the dense mohair cushions groaning beneath the weight of the air.

The expansive sheets of enchanted quartz glass overlooking the sprawling neon web of Central City rattled within their gilded frames, weeping fine threads of condensed seawater along the sills.

"Easy, Morwenna! Lower the saber, it’s fine! She’s on our side!" Silas shouted, raising both hands from the sea of shimmering fur to signal a hasty truce.

He was pinned flat on his back, wedged between four massive impossibly soft silver tails that had instinctively curled around his ribs like an oversized down-filled cocoon.

Morwenna didn’t drop the blade.

Her broad muscular shoulders were coiled like wound steel springs with the rough hide of her weathered weapon straining against the deep ragged expansion of her chest.

Her pale skin glistened beneath the chandelier light and her eyes remained locked in that terrifying hue of cyan.

"I’m taking all of you out," Morwenna snarled, her raspy voice vibrating with the subterranean grinding of tectonic plates. "Every single one of you... I leave you alone for four goddamn hours to haul mythril, and I return to find a nine-tailed vixen smothering my Captain in a velvet ditch!"

"E-Eeeek!"

Before Silas could pry his torso loose to intervene, Solenne moved.

The silver-haired kitsune didn’t run and she didn’t scramble for the safety of the foyer or dive behind the glass coffee table.

Instead, with a panicked breathless yelp, she threw herself entirely across Silas’s chest, spreading her slender arms wide and burying him beneath the full quivering breadth of all nine silver tails.

Her pointed vulpine ears flattened completely against her messy silver hair, her golden eyes clamped shut with tears of self-sacrificing terror leaking past her lashes.

"Please! Don’t slaughter him!" Solenne wailed, her voice cracking in hysterical, ear-splitting devotion. "Spare the Lord! Take me instead! Flay my pelt! Turn my tails into winter scarves! Feed my liver to your krakens, but spare Lord Silas! He’s a pure holy savior who bought me honey-glazed roc tenderloin! I’ll gladly die for my Lord’s virtue!"

Silence slammed into the penthouse lounge as the suffocating ocean pressure abruptly sputtered, died, and vanished into a thin harmless draft of salty air.

Morwenna stood frozen on the plush carpet with her right arm extended and the heavy curved edge of Tidebringer hovering barely three inches above Solenne’s quivering upturned flank.

Her eye gave a violent spastic twitch as the cyan in her irises slowly receded, leaving behind a dull exhausted stormy gray.

’I hate you,’ Morwenna wept internally, her soul collapsing into a pit of bottomless bitter despair. ’I hate you so goddamn much.’

The kitsune was innocent.

She was pathetic, starving, and pure-hearted... If this had been some conniving merchant vixen or an undercover assassin aiming to wrap Silas around her finger, Morwenna could have cleaved her in half with a single fluid pivot of Severing Horizon and slept like a nursing infant afterward.

But this girl had thrown her own fragile body over Silas’s chest like a loyal hound shielding its master from a harpoon.

How was Morwenna supposed to decapitate someone who was offering her liver to save Silas’s virtue?!

With a loud disgusted click of her tongue, Morwenna smoothly spun Tidebringer by the pommel and shoved the saber back into its scabbard with a sharp clack.

She marched forward, closing the distance in two thunderous strides.

Ignoring the yelping kitsune entirely, Morwenna bent at the waist, reached through the silver fur, and grabbed Silas by the thick wool of his oversized chibi-hoodie and the waistband of his linen trousers.

"Hup!"

With a single effortless grunt of high-seas physical strength, she hoisted the Lord off the cushions, throwing him over her broad right shoulder like a two-hundred-pound sack of ore.

"W-Whoa! Hey!" Silas grunted, his ribs colliding with her hard leather pauldron as his legs dangled helplessly down her back.

Solenne scrambled backward across the velvet cushions, waving all nine of her silver tails in the air like a cluster of fluttering white flags.

"I surrender! I yield to you! Please don’t boil me in brine!"

"Put me down, Morwenna!" Silas commanded, his face flushing crimson as he tried to find leverage against her muscular shoulder blades. "I’m the Lord of Blessed Land, not a bag of grain!"

SMACK!

A sharp and remarkably heavy slap landed directly against the rounded curve of Silas’s backside, echoing through the cavernous suite with the volume of a cracking whip.

"Not a chance, Captain," Morwenna barked, her cheeks puffing out into an indignant pout as her arm clamped down around his thighs like an iron band. "You’ve had your fun wallowing in fox fluff... Now you belong to me."

She turned her fierce gaze upon the trembling kitsune, completely ignoring Silas’s muffled groans of protest.

"Does this suite have a private training yard?"

Solenne blinked, her ears giving a frantic nervous twitch.

"T-The western annex! Beyond the bathhouse! It has a high-tier reinforced dampening ring designed for visiting lords or at least that’s what the butler said." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

"Good," Morwenna grunted.

She turned on her heel and dumped Silas unceremoniously onto an adjacent empty leather armchair.

Then, to the complete and utter bewilderment of everyone in the room, the tall terrifying Pirate queen clicked her boots together, lowered her broad shoulders, and bowed her head in a stiff awkward angle of apology toward the trembling kitsune.

"I mistook you for an enemy," Morwenna muttered through gritted teeth with the words clearly tasting like vinegar and broken glass in her mouth. "You threw yourself in front of my Captain’s chest and you’ve got the guts of a deckhand... I respect that so forgive the blade."

Silas sat frozen on the leather armchair, his jaw slacking open by an inch.

Across the room, Aeliana’s delicate jaw dropped so wide her silver-green eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.

’Morwenna... apologized?!’ Aeli thought with her brain stalling out.

Before anyone could recover from the shock, Morwenna reached deep into the side pouch of her leather breeches, pulling out a small sealed paper sachet coated in fine wax.

"Here," she said, tossing the sachet onto the glass table. "Aeli and I brought this back from the street pavilions in the Second Ring... It’s concentrated white lemien juice powder. Freshly milled from the mountain orchards, it’s supposed to clear the lungs and settle the blood."

"Ahhh...!" Aeliana let out a soft unladylike moan with her hands clasping against her chest as her pointed ears flushed pink. "The white lemien... oh, Lord Sy, it is heaven! We sampled the street stalls along the lower terrace while hauling the mythril ingots! The savory grilled broth called ramen, the spiced meat skewers, the steaming fried dough... the people of this city possess a terrifying mastery over culinary indulgence!"

Silas’s eyes narrowed into slits of playful betrayal.

"Wait a minute," Silas grumbled, clicking his tongue a bit. "You two went on an all-you-can-eat street food tour through the night markets... and didn’t invite me? Tch. Stingy... Here I was, slaving away at the high exchange, negotiating beast eggs and dodging fans, while my own Heroes were stuffing their faces with noodles behind my back!"

Aeliana’s slender shoulders gave a violent rhythmic tremor.

’This is it...’ the Elf thought, her breath hitching as her silver-green eyes locked onto Silas’s handsome scowling face. ’The sacred texts of Master C.X.I.D.! Chapter Nine... The Convergence of Shared Appetites! The author explicitly dictated that emotional intimacy cannot truly flourish until the maiden shares the physical sensations of mortal indulgence with her mate. To master the sacred art of romance, one must not simply observe... one must experience the flesh!’

She stepped forward as her pale cheeks blazed with a sinful radiant crimson.

Her hands fluttered near her collarbones as she leaned toward him.

"L-Lord Sy! Do not despair! Even though the physical meal has concluded... the rich savory essence of the broth still lingers upon my lips! If you would merely lean forward and taste—"

"Silas," Morwenna interrupted loudly, stepping directly between Aeliana and the armchair with the subtlety of a falling anchor, glaring pointedly down at him. "Why the hell are you still lounging around in your civilian hoodie? It’s nearly the ninth hour... Weren’t we supposed to meet with that Valerius bastard at the central exchange tonight?"

Aeliana shot Morwenna a venomous death-dealing glare that could have withered an ancient oak tree, but she clamped her mouth shut, equally curious about the itinerary.

Silas leaned back into the leather cushions, crossing his arms behind his head with an easy sigh.

"The meeting was delayed," Silas explained. "Valerius sent a message to me an hour ago... He got held up on Earth so he’ll be arriving tomorrow morning instead, we can afford to wait."

He paused with an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced toward the Elf.

"And he isn’t coming alone... He’s bringing Mia with him."

Aeliana’s breath hitched.

Her posture stiffened into a rigid plank of wood, her long blond hair practically standing on end as her pointed ears flattened flat against her skull.

"M-Mia...?!" Aeliana squeaked, a high, strangled gasp slipping past her porcelain lips. "Grand-Aunt Mia is accompanying him?! That... that short tea-obsessed gremlin is setting foot in this city?!"

She let out a long groan of misery, dragging both hands down her face.

"The heavens are cruel! Why does it have to be her...?"

Yet beneath the dramatic complaints, Silas could clearly see the bright affectionate warmth glowing in the depths of her silver-green eyes.

For all their bickering, Aeliana deeply cherished the woman who had practically raised her, well according to Aeliana herself.

"I’m heading to the galley," Morwenna grunted, rolling her shoulders as she turned toward the suite’s private kitchenette. "I’ll brew up the lemien powder for everyone. We’ve all been marching through soot and stone all day... our throats are dry."

"Oh, thank you, Miss Morwenna!" Solenne chirped gratefully from the sofa, finally relaxing her tails. "That’s remarkably kind of you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it, fox," Morwenna muttered, disappearing around the corner of the polished mahogany partition.

While Aeliana immediately scurried over to Silas’s chair, pulling out her thick stack of developed scrying photographs to eagerly display the embarrassing pictures of Morwenna choking on ramen broth, the pirate queen was engaged in a different classified operation inside the kitchen.

"Mmm..."

The galley was silent, save for the low hum of the magical refrigeration unit.

Morwenna set four ceramic mugs onto the quartz countertop.

She channeled a thin focused stream of hot water mana into the brass kettle, heating the spring water to a rolling boil within seconds, and emptied the sachets of white lemien powder into the cups.

Steam rose from the mugs, carrying a sweet intensely citrusy aroma that filled the small space.

’I’m losing my virginity tonight,’ Morwenna thought, her stormy gray eyes narrowing with terrifying focus as she stared at the swirling liquid. ’I swore an oath in the deep trenches... I’ve carried this unplucked blossom through centuries of naval warfare, and I’ll be damned to the bottom of the maw if I let another day pass without my Captain claiming what is rightfully his!’

But how could she drag him onto a feather mattress and ride him like a storm-tossed frigate if a nine-tailed kitsune, an Elf Princess, and a literal Beast Goddess were sitting in the living room listening to every squeak of the bedsprings?!

’If everyone is awake... they’ll just interrupt,’ she reasoned, her jaw clenching. ’Aeli will burst in with some degenerate book quotes... Solenne will probably start acting innocent and I don’t know what Rika would do.’

A wicked nostalgic smirk suddenly parted Morwenna’s lips.

’The night Eluned took him...’ Morwenna recalled with a bitter admiring chuckle. ’That sneaky magnificent bitch didn’t just seductively invite him to her chambers... She dosed the food and milk with Yggdrasil slumber-herbs, loosed slumber-spores on the wind, and put the entire population of Blessed Land to sleep, direwolves included, everyone except Silas, just so she could have her way with him undisturbed!’

If Eluned could drug an entire territory to claim her prize... who in the seven hells was going to stop a high-seas Pirate from knocking out three people in a hotel room?!

’Thank you for the idea, you smug... bark-brained... parade-wobbling hussy,’ Morwenna thought. ’I’ll use your own herbs!’

Morwenna reached deep into the hidden seam of her leather vest, withdrawing a small dried bundle of dark indigo-veined slumber-kelp and, folded in beside it, a twist of silvery leaves she had swiped from Eluned’s own pantry shelf earlier... Yggdrasil slumber-herbs.

Between the two, a single pinch was potent enough to knock out a raging sea-drake for twelve hours without leaving a trace of magical toxicity.

She held the dried herbs in her right palm.

BZZZZT!

Channeling a microscopic high-frequency vibration through her wrist, the foundational principle of the Tidal-Blade Sub-Style, she disintegrated the dried leaves into a fine imperceptible green dust within half a second.