Ethan stood in the inn's mirror, adjusting the fine tunic he'd bought from a merchant stall — dark leather trimmed with silver thread, accentuating his broad shoulders and chiseled frame. The city air buzzed with evening energy outside, but inside the room, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Mira and Elara fussed over him, their hands lingering longer than necessary.
Mira smoothed his collar, her fingers tracing down his chest. "You look like a lord yourself, Master. The baroness won't be able to resist."
Elara nodded, pressing against his side, her voluptuous curves soft through her dress. "Be careful. Nobles have eyes everywhere."
Ethan pulled them both close, kissing Mira deeply first — tongue invading her mouth until she moaned — then Elara, biting her lower lip. His hands slipped under their skirts, fingers teasing their already damp pussies. "And you two? Jealous I'm going alone?"
Mira whimpered as he curled a finger inside her. "No… but make her scream your name. For us."
Elara gasped, grinding against his hand. "We'll wait… aching for you."
He edged them like that for minutes — fingers pumping slowly, thumbs circling clits until their knees buckled and breaths came in ragged pants. But he stopped short of release, pulling away with a smirk. "Save it. You have work: Mira, dig deeper on those merchant rumors about the ruins. Elara, cross-check with the healer enclave on demonic signs. Report back by dawn."
They left flushed and frustrated, eyes promising retribution in the best way.
The Vortigern Castle loomed at the city's heart — a fortress of towering spires and rune-etched walls that glowed faintly in the twilight. Guards in crimson plate checked his invitation at the gate, eyes widening at the baroness's personal seal. "Through the main hall, sir. She awaits in the private solar."
The interior was opulence incarnate: marble floors veined with gold, tapestries depicting ancient battles, crystal chandeliers channeling captured mana to cast warm light. Servants bowed as he passed, whispers following: "The guild's new star…"
The private solar was a cozy chamber high in a tower — roaring fireplace, plush rugs, a massive canopied bed in the corner hinting at more than meetings. The baroness stood by the window, overlooking the city lights.
Lady Vortigern turned as he entered, her raven hair loose in waves, violet eyes smoldering. Her gown was scandalous for a noble: deep scarlet silk clinging to her massive breasts, the neckline plunging to reveal creamy cleavage that heaved with each breath. The fabric hugged her tiny waist and flared over wide hips, slits exposing long legs.
"Ethan," she purred, voice like velvet. "You came. I feared border duties might scare you off."
He closed the door, locking it with a click. "Nothing scares me, my lady. Especially not an invitation from beauty like yours."
She flushed, the claim from their guild encounter already working its magic — nipples peaking against silk, thighs shifting as wetness gathered. She poured wine with trembling hands. "Flattery? Or truth?"
Ethan stepped close, taking the glass but setting it aside. His hand brushed her arm, sending shivers through her. "Truth. Your husband leaves you wanting, doesn't he? A woman of your… stature deserves more."
Her breath hitched. "Bold words for a bronze adventurer."
He pulled her against him, lips crashing onto hers. She melted instantly — moaning into the kiss, hands clutching his tunic as lust overrode propriety. The Free Claim surged, breaking her completely.
Ethan's hands roamed — cupping her massive tits through the gown, thumbs circling hard nipples until she whimpered. "These are neglected. Let me worship them properly."
He yanked the neckline down, exposing her breasts — full, heavy, pink nipples begging. He sucked one deep, biting gently, while pinching the other. The baroness cried out, grinding her dripping pussy against his thigh.
"Gods… yes… my lord husband never… oh!"
He spun her, bending her over the table, hiking her gown to reveal lace panties soaked through. "And this married cunt? How long since it was properly fucked?"
"Years," she sobbed, pushing back. "Please… take me… breed me like he can't!"
Ethan ripped the panties aside, fingers plunging into her hot, velvety depths. She squirted on his hand immediately, screaming as he finger-fucked her roughly, thumb on her clit.
Just as he freed his throbbing cock, ready to claim her fully —
Glass shattered.
Three beastkin assassins burst through the window — two wolf-types with furred ears and claws, one panther with sleek black fur and glowing yellow eyes. They moved like shadows, daggers drawn, targeting the baroness.
"Die, human whore!" the panther snarled, leaping with inhuman speed.
Ethan reacted instantly. Combat Flow activated — time slowed, trajectories glowing.
He shoved the baroness behind him, sword materializing from his spatial ring (a minor artifact from Thalor). The panther's dagger slashed; Ethan parried with a ringing clash, riposting into the assassin's shoulder — blade biting deep, black blood spraying.
The first wolf charged low, claws raking. Ethan sidestepped, using Elven Grace for agile twist, knee crashing into the wolf's jaw with bone-crunching force. It staggered; he followed with a downward slash that severed an arm at the elbow. The beast howled, collapsing in agony.
The second wolf flanked, leaping from the side with a spinning kick. Ethan ducked under, blade thrusting upward into the midair belly — guts spilling as it crashed to the floor.
The panther, wounded but fast, vanished into shadows — stealth ability. Ethan's Aether Sense pinged: faint magic outline behind him.
He spun, blocking a backstab just in time — daggers clanging off steel. The panther pressed, claws slashing in blurs. Ethan weaved, parrying three strikes, then countered with a feint high — drawing guard up — before low kick to knee, cracking bone. The assassin dropped; Ethan's boot stomped the throat, crushing windpipe with a wet crunch.
The baroness screamed as the first wolf — one-armed but raging — lunged at her. Ethan hurled his dagger — embedding in the eye socket, dropping it dead.
Silence fell, broken only by the baroness's sobs.
Ethan knelt beside the panther's corpse, searching. Under the cloak: a black amulet etched with a veiled dagger symbol, pulsing dark energy.
System pinged: [Artifact Analyzed: Veilborn Insignia – Mark of The Veilborn Syndicate]
[New Faction Unlocked: Shadow organization of rogue demons, beastkin extremists, and human traitors. Goal: Reopen demon portals for chaos and power grabs. Linked to Thalor disturbances and border raids.]
The baroness clung to him, gown torn, body trembling. "They… they came for me. How did you…?"
Ethan held her, the claim sealing fully in the adrenaline rush. "I protect what's mine."
She looked up, eyes worshipful. "Yours… yes. Take me now, hero. Breed your grateful baroness."
But alarms blared outside — guards rushing in. Ethan sheathed his sword. "Later. We have a syndicate to hunt."
The baron burst in moments later, face pale. "My wife! What happened?"
Explanations followed — Ethan the savior, assassins dead, insignia revealed. The baron clasped his arm. "You saved her. Name your reward."
Ethan's eyes flicked to the baroness, her nipples still hard, cum from his earlier fingers leaking down her thigh. "I'll think on it."
The Veilborn Syndicate loomed — a new enemy with hidden milf targets in their ranks.
The hunt began.
To be continued…