A week passed.
For the first time since arriving in Solmere, Jax and the Vixens did nothing urgent.
No dungeon alarms.
No emergency contracts.
No desperate negotiations.
Just… living.
And they celebrated it properly.
The first night alone turned into a citywide event.
Jax opened tabs at three of his restaurants and quietly instructed the managers:
"Anyone who walks in tonight eats free. Drinks discounted. Tell them Solmere is celebrating."
They didn't question it.
They never did.
By sundown, laughter spilled into the streets. Music echoed from open doors. Adventurers toasted to the Vixens. Merchants raised glasses to Jax. Even the town guards relaxed their posture.
It wasn't just a party.
It was a victory lap.
Fashion, Fame, and the Jax Effect
The days that followed were filled with chaos of a different kind.
Shopping.
Endless shopping.
The girls dragged Jax through boutiques, tailors, jewelers, and cloth merchants, treating him like their personal mannequin.
"Try this."
"No, this."
"Turn around."
Jax endured most of it with heroic patience, occasionally drawing a firm line.
"I'm not wearing lace."
"You'd look cute," Nyxian argued.
"I'd look unemployed," he replied.
Still, his style began spreading through Solmere like wildfire.
His trimmed stubble became fashionable within days. Beastkin barbers reported a sudden spike in requests for "the Jax cut."
When guests visited the Compound and saw his clean-shaven chest and carefully groomed body hair during pool gatherings, the effect was even faster.
Within forty-eight hours, manscaping became a trend.
Solmere men didn't know why they wanted to look like that.
They just knew they did.
The Compound
Their home quickly earned a nickname.
The Compound.
People said it half-jokingly, half in awe.
Deals were made by the pool. Contracts negotiated over grilled meats. Alliances formed on the back patio while Jax smoked exotic cuts from dungeon beasts.
The healing waters of the pool turned casual swims into therapy sessions. Guests left refreshed, energized, and eager to return.
Construction crews still worked on expansions, but the Compound was already becoming a social center for the city.
Anyone invited felt honored.
Anyone not invited hoped they would be next.
The Vixens had become Solmere's unofficial royalty.
People whispered:
"If you're close to them, you'll prosper."
And so far… they were right.
A Guild Visit
Late in the week, Guild Master Kaelor and Miriella stopped by.
Kaelor tried to appear casual, but his eyes constantly scanned the Compound like a man evaluating a strategic asset.
On the sixth day, he finally spoke his concern.
"You haven't left for the Frostveil mission yet."
Jax didn't flinch.
"Weapons upgrades," he said simply. "Armor tuning. Final calibrations. Two more days."
Kaelor exhaled slowly.
Relief.
He had seen too many parties rush out half-prepared and never return. Watching Jax delay departure for preparation reassured him more than any boast of strength could.
This wasn't recklessness.
This was control.
He respected that.
Nyxian vs. Miriella
Meanwhile, Nyxian had found her own entertainment.
Miriella entered the pool cautiously.
Slime physiology meant water absorption was… adjustable.
When she resurfaced, she did so with a dramatically altered figure. Her breast size increased by multiple times.
Nyxian nearly inhaled water laughing.
"Well that's unfair," she declared. "You're cheating."
Miriella turned pink — an impressive feat for a slime.
"I-It's just how my body works!"
Nyxian circled her like an appraising artist.
"That is a dangerous ability."
Every man within eyesight suddenly found the sky fascinating. Nobody wanted to be caught looking at the Slime Girl whos bikini barely fit now.
Except Jax.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He was human.
But he was also very aware of four pairs of eyes that would notice him noticing. He worried more about their reaction than his viewing pleasure.
So he behaved.
Mostly.
Miriella, for her part, stole glances when she thought nobody saw.
She absolutely saw him. He looked from the corner of his eyes.
Everyone did.
The air was playful, harmless, charged with humor rather than tension.
The Vixens teased her relentlessly.
She kept coming back anyway.
Evenings at the Compound were isolated with Jax and the Vixens.
Nights were louder than the days.
Freer.
The Compound had no neighbors close enough to complain, and the Vixens took full advantage of that architectural blessing.
Doors were tried.
Rooms were tested.
Furniture arrangements were… creatively evaluated.
The house echoed with screams, gasps and exctasy filled moans long after midnight.
It wasn't just indulgence.
It was release.
They had fought hard.
Bled hard.
Earned this peace.
And they were determined to enjoy every second of it.
The New Normal
During the day, they wore clothes they'd never been able to afford before.
New dresses.
Tailored coats.
Bathing suits that caused double-takes across the city.
Gadgets.
Jewelry.
Comfort.
Freedom.
For the first time in their lives, the Vixens weren't surviving.
They were thriving.
And Jax watched it all with quiet satisfaction.
This — more than gold, more than victories — was what he wanted.
Their happiness.
Their laughter.
Their future.
Soon they would leave again.
Another mission.
Another battlefield.
But for one shining week in Solmere, the world slowed down just enough to let them breathe.
And it was the happiest they had ever been.