Sia’s cries were terrifying—only those who’d heard them knew just how much. Count Dema’s worsening hearing over the years was proof enough.
Medi, who had just taken a light sip of red wine, narrowed her bewitching eyes warily at Sia’s words. Another flirty brat trying to steal her fiancé? At only ten years old, playing mistress already? Was this the upbringing expected of noble children?
Medi suddenly felt weary. Why did so many girls keep appearing to snatch her fiancé? Was this forcing her to start eliminating them? Her master had said: any mistress must die!
The blue-haired girl, the blonde loli, the beast-eared girl—all three were mistresses. But they had deep ties with Alan. If she killed them, Alan would surely avenge them by killing her too. Would she and her fiancé end up as lovers turned enemies?
A trace of sorrow flickered in Medi’s bewitching eyes. Dark God, why must you treat me this way?
“Medi, what are you thinking about?” Alan appeared beside her, trailed by two little shadows—Emma and Sia—both clinging tightly to him.
“I was wondering if we’ll become lovers turned enemies someday. We…”
“Ahem. Medi, Haina—I saw two long dresses this afternoon that perfectly match your styles. I hope you like them.” Alan cut her off, smoothly pulling out two dresses. One was azure blue for Haina; the other, purple for Medi. He’d noticed during their shopping trip that this DarkMage favored purple and black.
“Mine… too?” Medi stared at the garment bags on the counter, her bewitching pupils wide with surprise. Those earlier thoughts of lovers turned enemies? What were those again?
She eagerly opened the bag. Her favorite color greeted her. As her fingers brushed the dress, a faint magical aura washed over her. “Magi-armor?” Her surprise deepened.
Magi-armor—short for enchanted clothing—was rare. Its value lay in materials and craftsmanship. Most offered anti-magic defense. Basic tiers only blocked spells; intermediate ones, like these from Kuze’s shop, had both offensive and defensive powers. Higher tiers added stamina recovery, curse immunity, and more. Legendary or divine Magi-armor? Money couldn’t buy those.
Haina, touching her own bag, also sensed the magic. “Magi-armor?” she gasped.
Alan grinned. “Exactly. Since you two often ‘spar’ with magic… ahem… I thought you’d appreciate not worrying about wardrobe malfunctions mid-fight.”
Haina’s touched expression froze cold. Typical idiot. Clueless as ever.
Medi, however, glowed. So Alan cared this much? Next time she fought Haina, she’d absolutely avoid any wardrobe slips. Her body was only for Alan’s eyes—he’d be sleeping with her, riding him, whipping him nightly anyway.
Alan shivered beside her. Weird. Summer heat outside, yet a chill ran down his spine. Had he caught a draft while drafting manuscripts?
“Alan, I adore it! I knew you loved your fiancée too.” Medi hugged the purple dress, then leaned into Alan.
Behind the counter, Haina’s eyes ignited with silent flames. Alan quickly helped Medi up. “Medi, Haina—try them on upstairs. If they don’t fit, I’ll get the tailor to adjust them.”
It was just polite phrasing. Having grown up with Haina, Alan knew her measurements by heart—hips, waist… well, ignoring bust size. As for Medi, one glance had given him her perfect golden-ratio curves. Far better than Haina’s flat chest. (He kept that thought locked tight—speaking it might get him killed.)
He’d already given Emma her set.
“Alan-bro’s unfair! Why no gift for me? I want Magi-armor too—pretty like Haina-nee’s! Pink one!” Sia puffed her cheeks, clinging to Alan’s arm, ready to burst into tears.
“Next time. I’ll buy you one soon, okay?” Alan ruffled her golden hair, smiling.
“You promised! I didn’t force you!” Sia beamed, eyes crinkling happily.
Alan flicked her smooth forehead. “Got it, you little strongwoman.”
Watching them, Haina silently tucked her bag away. She slid a commission slip across the counter to Alan. A bold red “S” glared at the top—S-rank.
“S-rank commission?” Alan skipped the details, eyes locking on the reward: 3,500 gold coins. His fingers rubbed his smooth chin. Not bad. He scanned the request: “Explore the Bipedal Wyvern’s nest.”
Bold move.
After the Era of Giant Dragons and Era of Elves ended, few had seen true dragons. They still existed, just hidden from humans. Bipedal Wyverns were their descendants—carrying dragon blood, inheriting their strength. At the top of the Beastmonsters’ food chain, they were as smart as humans.
Trespassing an active nest? That meant facing a Bipedal Wyvern’s wrath.
