Volume 3 Chapter 33 In Memory Of Azrael Ghost I
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
As he leapt into the teleportation gate Priscilla had created, a wave of hot, humid air enveloped his face in an instant.
East End could be sweltering at this time of year, but this wind felt unmistakably tropical.
Just as he sensed an acute discomfort, the next moment he felt the solid ground beneath his feet, and the blinding whiteness of his vision slowly regained its colors.
”────”`
Brown castle walls loomed in front of him.
Beyond them lay a vast expanse of blue.
At first, he mistook it for the color of the sky, but it turned out to be the deep, rippling blue of the sea.
It was as if a phantom shadow flickered behind the fortress, distorting the view before his eyes.
The last time he visited Châtillon, it had been nighttime.
Having boarded the carriage before the dawn broke, this sight was entirely new to him.
The castle walls seemed to pale in height compared to the Izerland fortress, but they stretched far and wide nonetheless.
He had the impression that the walls enveloped the entire bay, and the vastness of the coastline it covered was almost beyond imagination.
There was no scent of the ocean.
Only the damp, strong breeze exuded the unique atmosphere of a port.
”Whoa!? Hey, Master! Don’t just stand there, it’s dangerous!”
”Oops, my bad.”
As he stepped aside, Rufna and Natra emerged from the gate, standing side by side.
Natra wore a serious expression.
Rufna squinted up at the sun, seeming dazzled by its brightness.
”It’s hot…”
”Looks like it’s about 7 hundred meters to the fortress. No carriage is waiting for us…”
To them, the sea didn’t seem all that special.
Being from the Nakash family, who ruled the port, that came as no surprise.
”────”
He squinted to take in the landscape.
The brown castle walls of Châtillon were bordered by a stretch of ochre sand, while the place where Kian and he stood resembled a winding town street.
Though it was a street, it lacked any sort of paving.
Dark shadows loomed from the mountains behind them.
As he glanced from side to side, between the mountains and the brown castle walls, he could see the shadows of a caravan traversing the distant landscape, filled with carriages and horses.
It seemed there was a proper town road somewhere else.
”This is a shortcut leading from the Châtillon fortress to the rear mountain,”
Priscilla explained as she emerged from the last gate.
She waved her umbrella that she had been holding in her right hand, causing the teleportation gate behind us to vanish into thin air.
The white-haired witch wore an all-black attire, making her more vulnerable to the sun’s rays than the average person.
When she snapped her fingers, the skeletal golem began to assemble, providing shade for its mistress with an elegant parasol.
”Are we going to walk from here?”
”No, I’ve summoned a carriage. Just wait a moment.”
”With so many people coming and going… It really is Châtillon, isn’t it? Lady Priscilla, I believe the summer market will also take place in Châtillon next month. How many townsfolk are expected to gather?”
”Probably around 100 thousand, I think.”
Priscilla responded while perched on a large suitcase, swinging her right leg playfully.
”In our town, there’s a self-governing organization known as the ‘Comune,’ comprised of the top merchants and craftsmen. When the ‘Comune’ submits their annual tax documentation, they usually report a number ranging from 60 to 70 thousand. Considering the poor, elderly, and children who don’t get counted, it’s likely a bit higher.”
”That’s an astonishing number.”
”When the summer and winter markets are held, there are nearly 30 thousand people seeking to cross the port or the fortress drawbridge. However, quite a few individuals try to sneak in without permits, so when you tally everything, it’s around 100 thousand altogether.”
”Wow, that’s impressive. Now that I think about it, I’ve never really considered how many people are at Izerland fortress.”
”Izerland fortress is estimated to have about 40 thousand. When the summer market kicks off, that number increases by around 20 thousand, bringing the total to 60 thousand. The central city of Ramsey, the northern granary, has roughly 25 thousand people, swelling to about 30 thousand during the summer market.”
Under the umbrella cast by the dragon-boned golem, the white-haired witch stood at the stand, smoothly reciting numbers as if pouring water.
It’s clear she won’t tell us why she knows such information, even if we ask.
She flashes a mischievous smile and looks up at Kian.
”Seems like the mid-tier cities around Izerland are going to hold grand summer markets starting this year. For the folks living in those inconvenient mountainous areas, it’ll be a bit easier to get their daily supplies. If there’s a town or street nearby where you can easily find goods, you might start thinking about expanding your territory by clearing more of the forest. ──Once you cut into the forest, the monsters driven from their homes will come down into populated areas. Don’t you think you’ll have more than enough work for the next decade or so?”
”Maybe so.”
”You don’t sound too interested?”
Priscilla asks with a hint of a laugh in her voice.
”Are you really planning to quit the adventurer business?”
”────”
”Well, even if you struggle to reach the advanced-rank, things only get tougher after that. It might be better to acquire some land, hire tenant farmers, and live a relaxed life. Oh, maybe it’s got some similarity to how I hole up in libraries?”
”Hiding away, yet it seems you’re quite actively engaging with the outside world by volunteering to guide us like this.”
Priscilla nods with a “Well, yeah” in response to Natra’s words.
”There are definitely things you can’t gain by just hiding in libraries all the time. ──Ah, looks like the carriage has arrived. Sorry to keep everyone waiting. It seems our journey is finally about to set sail.”
Her dramatic declaration was like an actor’s on stage.
Rising abruptly from her suitcase, her gaze was fixed on the sight before her──a luxurious black carriage, kicking up dust as it barreled towards them, heading for the right hand of the brown-walled castle.
* * *
The interior of the carriage was quite spacious, with a fixed table placed between the seats.
There was an ice-filled cooler installed inside, and a basin with inverted glasses placed on top.
”Lord Kian, what would you like to drink?”
After Kian boarded, Priscilla naturally took the seat beside him and smiled cheerfully as she asked,
By the way, Natra and Rufna were sitting neatly across from them.
”Well, no matter what you say… I’ll just have water.”
”Huh?! Not alcohol? Drinking water is so boring!”
”…!”
(Ugh, her thighs! And… her chest is pressing against me with a suspicious intensity!)
’Are you still a virgin?’
Priscilla removed her hat and snuggled tightly against Kian’s right arm.
The carriage was strangely cold──probably due to the advanced heat-magic Aliona had used on their way to the ‘Labyrinth of Roses’──so being pressed up against her wasn’t uncomfortable at all.
However, having just come in from outside, the sweet scent of Priscilla’s body and her citrusy perfume wafted around him, and her warmth──or maybe the dampness from her sweat──was directly reaching him, making things quite overwhelming.
’I’ll say it again: Are you still a virgin?’
(Can you please be quiet already?!)
”No, Ms. Priscilla. I can’t get drunk; we have business to attend to.”
”Huh, why not? Aren’t we just supposed to go to the inn and call it a day?”
”If we have time, I want to tackle the ‘Night Crier’ quest.”
Rufna cut in with a subtly irritated expression.
Beside her, Natra spoke up.
”Sir Kian.”
”What is it?”
”This is not a brōtḥel. Please conduct yourself with some decorum.”
”I’m not doing anything wrong…”
”Oh? Are you all perhaps jealous of me? With one man and 2 women in this party, I figured that might be the case, but oh ho, guess it’s true? How ugly.”
Grinning, Priscilla ridiculed his 2 familiar companions.
Natra and Rufna exchanged a brief, furious glance, but both returned to their stoic expressions like true adults.
Priscilla burst into bright laughter.
The breath escaping her luscious lips rose right to Kian’s nose.
Amid the scent of lemons, he could also sense Priscilla’s own unique fragrance.
She’s radiating something… he bet this isn’t even remotely close to a simulated sexual encounter anymore.
He just got pounded mercilessly by Aliona not too long ago, and yet… his manhood is practically screaming for battle.
Kian tries to stiffen his body, desperately trying to keep his erection hidden from Priscilla. As he does, she reaches for the back of the pantry, her upper body passing in front of him.
”Mmm… Sho.”
With a breathy, almost indecent exhale, her profile fills his vision.
Her sweet perfume intensifies, and her flat chest brushes boldly against his arm.
”Whoa, Ohhh!?”
”Tch…””tch…”
’Damn, this Knight… how pathetic.’
”Heeey, Lord Kian. Let me pour you some water?”
Priscilla grabs an iron goblet and scoops up finely crushed ice with a *clink*.
It’s a military ice box used by officers during campaigns.
She opens a bottle of spring water and pours it *trickle, trickle* into the cup.
(Ugh…, If only I had my glasses, I could have handled this like a pro.)
A man in his thirties… he’s surprisingly weak against beautiful young women.
More like Kian lacks resistance to witches.
Aliona and Christy’s outfits have witch-like designs, and he’s reacting instinctively.
”Ah, You two, feel free to drink. I got all the ice and alcohol, after all.”
”Let’s drink then!” “Kuku, well then, let’s drink expensive liquor until we’re bankrupt!”
Two familiars scoop ice into their goblets.
On the other side, Priscilla is blending fruit into a mixed drink, blending it right under the table’s shadow.
Meanwhile, she subtly wraps her calf around Kian’s leg.
(…!)
He glances up, surprised, but Priscilla has a nonchalant expression, calmly making the mixed drink.
However, her witch’s dress skirt has ridden up, revealing smooth, white legs that reach just below her knees.
Her shoes are off, and her damp, sweaty feet are slowly creeping over his rough adventurer’s pants, like a slug.
It seems like her sweet scent has gotten stronger.
Such a beguiling scent!
But what kind of aroma lurks between those damp toes of hers?
If he were to lick the grime from between those digits, what kind of flavor would explode across his tongue──?
Christy and Aliona were practically odorless, lacking any intrigue.
But Priscilla, even just from the smell of her sweat, seemed like she’d have a normal, earthy stench, and a thrill of curiosity courses through Priscilla’s veins, the urge to explore forbidden scents bubbling up.
(Oh, dear me, this is going too far.)
He breaks into a cold sweat, his body shrinking back.
On the other hand, Priscilla presses forward.
Her big toe, strong and honed, traces a path along Kian’s sculpted calf.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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