The dragon's harem

Chapter 1635: Gojo

While Arad retreated to his room first, Gojo had to get changed first and pick some better clothes. All he got now is Arad’s expensive shirt and the bear coat that’s still fresh with blood from the bear. While the shirt was good, the coat wasn’t very comfortable, and most importantly, it stank a lot.

The smell was horrendous, and it honestly made him feel a bit sick. In that department, Arad had a higher tolerance.

Gojo wasn’t a picker when it came to clothes and food, just like his brother. He had mostly left picking those up for other people, in his case, Liliana and sometimes even Lucy. Gug tried to get him to wear some barbarian hide clothes, but those looked almost like this coat Arad made.

In fact, Gojo was almost certain that Arad used a few skills he learned from Nina or one of her clan. The only problem with the coat Arad made is that they didn’t have time to tan the leather and let it dry out.

From what Gracie told him, she has a large wardrobe in the room with the green door. In there, he should find clothes of all shapes and forms. It didn’t matter what he liked to wear or his size. Inside that room are all of the clothes she collected from everyone she ever killed. He should find both men’s and women’s clothes, armor, weapons, artifacts, and even monster and animal armor.

He looked around, and the green door was the first one left of the stairs. He looked and noticed that it should be impossible; the area left behind the door, from what he can see, is just a meter long. For a moment, he thought only buckets and brooms could be stored there.

Spatial storage, and unlike the void dragons’ stomach, this one seemed different, because he couldn’t sense anything from it. It looked like a mundane door painted with cheap green paint, he could even see some cracks on its weathered old surface.

But it had this strange aura of wealth around it. He felt like he was staring at a treasure chest. It didn’t matter how old, damaged, or disgusting a wooden box would look; if it was pulled from the sea and had one massive lock, you’d bet people would be excited to see what’s inside.

It wasn’t a treasure chest or a loot box; it was a vault door. Gojo greedily rubbed his hands as he approached the door with a grin. He picks some clothes, and maybe takes a look inside and sees what Death and Life have stored. Even if this was just their trash dump, a garbage bin, what gods like them consider as throwable waste, it might be a priceless treasure to every mortal.

In all honesty, Gojo had seen how much Gracie{The mother of all life} tears and spit sells for, one watered-down bottle could go for a cart of gold. And don’t get him started on something far harder to obtain, her love juice, for example, could cure impotency and restore youth; One drop is said to turn a fifty-year-old man into a fifteen-years-old and extend life to 200 years.

But the most expensive of them all is her blood and hair. Which Gojo could only read about in legends. In fact, she tore his nuts off because he was looking for a way to get her blood.

What would her blood do? It extended life by a few thousand years, and if injected by a dragon right before their twilight, they might be able to skip death and become elders. It can also revive the dead, and cure all known diseases.

But, as much as this house belonged to the mother of all life, it also belonged to Death. From what Gojo knew, those two lived together to keep each other in check. Gojo had many things to worry about, like what Yog is planning and all. But being here still made him feel like a kid in a toy store.

He was certain that the amount of magic stored here was unfathomable. He stood in front of the green door, stopped for a second, and reached toward the doorknob with a shaking hand. Last time he tried to dabble in her business, she tore his nuts off. What would she do if she found him sniffing around her vault?

“What are you shaking for? There is a storage dimension behind that door, but it won’t cause any damage.” As a voice came from behind him, he turned, saw nothing, and had to look down to spot her.

The four-foot-tall Yog, Gojo, was six-foot-two. Most elves are six feet tall, halflings are called halflings because they are on average half as tall as elves, which means their average is three feet tall, making Yog actually a bit taller than normal thanks to her half-elf blood.

He blinked several times.

“I know you’re a half-elf, half-halfling, but don’t you look a bit too weird?” He asked, and she smiled. He wanted to ask for a while, but never had the chance to.

She tilted her head, and her ears wiggled.

“Ho, how so?”

She was fully aware of how she looked. He was right, she didn’t look normal. Not many could perceive the difference, but Gojo was one of the few to see past her flawless appearance.

“Well, your red hair is rare among both elves and halflings, your ears are at least a foot long each, while they should be half that length, and your eyes aren’t eyes, the pupils are like sapphires, as if they are made out of magic, the same as the blue gem planted into your forehead.”

She giggled.

“You missed some details. My feet are a bit longer than normal, as so are my fingers. Two fewer ribs than normal, more muscles, and I’m much lighter than I should.” She tapped her chest. “But those are the only perceivable changes.”

She stood there, proudly puffing her none-existing chest.

“So, you modified yourself like most mages do?” Gojo couldn’t care less about how she looked. What interested him more was the magic she used to achieve those changes. It was clearly of a class far above regular spells.

She laughed. “No, mages try to mimic me, even though I didn’t change my body because I wanted to. In fact, I’m actively against anyone modifying their body.”

She shifted a bit. “It’s always best to stay away from any permanent changes to your body. Because it’s simpler to cast magic that way. No earrings or artificial limbs to muffle your magic. So if you’re like me and see to optimize that last 2% of your spells, you’d better stay the way you are.”

She flicked her finger, and something strange happened to her body. A pulse ran beneath her skin, making her bones visible for a moment, then steam started rushing out of her skin as if she had just walked out of a hot bath.

“For personal reasons, I had to send my mind to the distant past and start over from there several times. Magic problems.”

Her ears disappeared, her eyes were nowhere to be seen, and her clothes faded away, revealing a body marred with scares and old wounds, torn muscles, burned skin and whiplashes.

“I reincarnated at that time, and I was a slave more than once. Let’s say I had a not-so-fun forty years. But not all of those are from that, almost half are battle scars.” With a flick, she returned to her flawless body.

“It’s not just me. Almost all of the gods had seen their share of pain and suffering.”