[ TW: This chapter contains mature themes / explicit content. Reader discretion is advised. ]
The carriage sent by the Guildmaster barreled down the street at a reckless speed.
The journey was fast but jarring. The primitive suspension system groaned in protest against every bump on the cobblestone streets of the Upper City. It couldn't compare to the smooth, cushioned automobile rides Joseph remembered from Earth.
Inside the enclosed cabin, the silence was suffocating.
Arya was visibly on edge. She kept her spine rigidly straight against the padded seat, but her fingers nervously toyed with the straps of her quiver. Inside her mind, a relentless whirlwind raged:
«This is so awkward... I called him clumsy, a big baby, and a commoner behind his back. Gods, did he hear all of it, or just bits and pieces?»
Attempting to hide her anxiety, the elf averted her gaze toward the window, watching the pedestrians hustle back and forth beneath the scorching sun. However, her curiosity won out, and she glanced back.
Alaster caught her staring. Noting the lock of her electric-blue eyes, he offered a quiet smile. Caught red-handed, Arya blinked rapidly and returned a faint, almost imperceptible smile before scolding herself.
«Why am I smiling? There's no reason to be happy... And why is he smiling at me? Great, I think his foolishness is contagious.»
The archer lowered her eyes, her morning remorse over wounding his pride mixing with a sudden, unexpected flush of heat.
Alaster wore his deep blue tunic open at the chest, revealing a cream linen shirt that wasn't fully buttoned either. Through the opening, Arya could see firm pectoral muscles and the distinct outline of a chiseled six-pack, gleaming beneath the beams of sunlight that sliced into the carriage whenever it rounded a corner.
«He is definitely... far above any other elf I've ever laid eyes on,» the archer thought, swallowing hard. «Is it because he doesn't belong to any of the forest tribes? He's too robust... too...»
Joseph didn't miss Arya's predatory, analytical stare. Far from feeling flattered, a sharp stab of paranoia pierced his mind.
«Why the hell is she looking at me like that? Is there something behind me?»
He stole a glance over his shoulder, but found nothing but the wooden paneling of the cabin and the upholstery. The mere prospect of ending up in chains, turned into a mindless slave because of his mysterious spatial attribute, made the hairs on his back stand on end—or at least, they would have if his new body weren't hairless.
«What if this elf plans to betray me? What if she's taking me straight to the nobility to sell me to the highest bidder? With the pathetic little sparks I can conjure from my finger, I won't be able to put up much of a fight...»
Evaluating his options, Alaster considered making a break for it. He glanced at the window; the carriage had slowed down due to the crowded cobblestone streets. He could leap out with ease.
Arya, noticing the tense, panicked expression on the young man's face, could no longer contain herself. A crystalline, melodic laugh escaped her lips.
«How can he make such a goofy face of panic?» she thought, thoroughly amused. «It's like he doesn't even know how to hide his reactions. No, it's worse than that... he isn't even trying. What a bizarre elf...»
Alaster looked at her, indignant but captivated.
Arya was Khmer-cold by reputation, but in this moment, she was radiant. Her skin and platinum hair possessed a mystical luminosity beneath the sun, and her frank smile would have made the most stoic man blush.
Her eyes gleamed like tinted glass, and her silhouette, outlined by a light leather cuirass over her linen shirt, revealed dangerous curves and a generous bust that defied the usual slender build of her race. Her long, toned legs ended in medium-heeled leather boots that accentuated her commanding presence.
— You couldn't escape from me even if you tried, — Arya teased with a smug grin.
Seeing Alaster's expression shift from panic to confusion, the elf threw her head back against the seat and burst into genuine laughter. The elf crossed his arms, looking offended.
— Haha... no... don't worry, — Arya said, her laughter gradually subsiding as she wiped away an imaginary tear. — I promise you nothing bad is going to happen. The Guildmaster is quite reliable for a human. Honestly, he will most likely decide to help you.
Hearing her laughter and seeing her strangely approachable, Joseph's suspicions began to dissolve, leaving a pleasant warmth in his chest.
«Alright... maybe I'm being a bit too paranoid,» he admitted to himself.
— Now, the best thing you can do is relax, — she advised, adjusting her hair.
— How do you think he'll help me? — Alaster asked, intrigued.
Arya looked up at the ceiling of the cabin, thoughtful.
— I don't know for sure... but he will most likely grant you a basic grimoire. Something to help you learn to channel and stabilize your mana properly.
— Do you think he'll give me more money? — he inquired, arching an eyebrow. — Frankly, I don't like the idea of racking up that kind of debt.
Arya narrowed her blue eyes and looked away, reclaiming a bit of her dry tone.
— To be honest with you, Alaster, yesterday must have been an exception. It is incredibly rare for the Guild to hand out coins to a newcomer who hasn't even completed an official request.
The carriage began to slow down drastically.
— But save your questions. We're already here.
Stepping out of the carriage, Alaster forced himself to commit every detail of the surroundings to memory, just as he had done during the entire ride. He identified several visual landmarks, especially the immense clock tower rising in the center of the city.
The Adventurers' Guild building was imposing, featuring a solid stone foundation, while the upper floors were finished with a mix of plaster and whitewashed with quicklime, though it retained heavy wooden beams and accents. The windows were crafted from a dark, sturdy hardwood, and the first floor boasted a monumental height. In total, the structure stood three stories tall, crowned by a beautiful gabled roof that cut into the clear sky.
The moment they crossed the massive double doors of the entrance, the sheer racket of the place assaulted Alaster's heightened senses.
The main hall was packed. He immediately clocked the local crowd: predominantly burly warriors clad in heavy plate armor, others sporting light metal protections and studded leather. In the corners stood shady figures who looked like assassins or scouts, twirling daggers or short swords, cloaked in deep-hooded travel capes.
Curiously, he only spotted three mages in the entire hall, who wore fine silk robes and carried ornate staves, looking far cleaner and wealthier than the rest. And Alaster noticed a detail he had initially missed—many of the adventurers were, in fact, women.
Standing at a well-built 5'11", Alaster wasn't exceptionally tall compared to some of the massive northern mercenaries in the room, but his solid posture and athletic frame immediately drew eyes. The ambient murmur dropped a notch the moment he stepped into the room.
However, when the seasoned veterans tried to lock their hostile glares onto him, Alaster's violet irises—which flashed with the subtle, phosphorescent glow of a predatory creature in the dim light of the hall—instantly intimidated them, forcing them to look away. The women, on the other hand, continued to watch him, though with a much more coy and subtle curiosity.
They advanced toward the main counter, where Mila, the raven-haired receptionist, was waiting for them.
— Hello! — Mila greeted them with a radiant smile that accentuated her mature charms.
Arya shot her a heavy, warning look.
«With all the gossip that runs through this Guild, the last thing I need is for Mila to start asking me if Alaster is my boyfriend. I'd die of embarrassment,» the archer thought, keeping her face expressionless.
They approached the counter, and Mila leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper.
— The Master will see him right away.
Promptly after, she slid a heavy cloth pouch across the wood, which jingled with an unmistakable sound. Arya opened the bag to check its contents. Alaster, capitalizing on his sharp vision, caught the glint of precious metal inside.
«Gold? They're paying her in gold coins just for escorting me?»
An alarm blared in Joseph's mind. He took a step back, scanning the corners of the hall for any signs of an ambush or a trap. He eyed the exit, where a rough group of mercenaries was entering, sinking right back into his paranoia.
While Alaster lost himself in his thoughts, a silent conversation unfolded between the two women.
Mila arched a fine eyebrow, crossing her arms beneath her generous chest, which enhanced her cleavage. She tilted her head a millimeter toward Alaster, articulating an obvious question with her eyes: «Are you sleeping with him?»
Arya caught the gesture instantly and shook her head flatly: «No!»
The elf remained oblivious to the exchange, but the sensual forty-something woman didn't waste the opportunity to scan him with her brown eyes. To Mila, this man was a god dropped straight from the Upper Pantheon. She discreetly swallowed hard.
«There's no way Arya doesn't like him... No matter how cold an elven woman is, how can you ignore a specimen like that?»
The experienced receptionist's gaze filled with a thick, forbidden lust. She traced Alaster's angular jawline, his broad shoulders, and the muscles that could be discerned beneath his clothes. At 5'11", he had the perfect proportions—not too bulky, but remarkably chiseled.
«That is not the body of a common elf. He looks like a warrior who has spent years fighting creatures inside a dungeon...»
Mila looked away with a subtle sigh, feeling a sudden, suffocating heat rise in her intimate area.
«How long has it been since the last time...? Five years? It's so easy to forget that you're a woman besides being a mother when the routine swallows you whole...»
Almost mechanically, Mila brushed her right ring finger with her thumb. It was a habit of years to make sure her wedding band was still there; however, now there was only a band of slightly lighter skin where the ring used to sit.
— Right then, I'll see you later, Arya, — Mila said, rebuilding her professional composure.
Arya looked at Alaster.
— I'll wait for you down here, — the archer said firmly. — I want to talk to you when you're done.
She turned on her heel and walked toward a secluded table, pulled out a wooden chair, and sat down, crossing her long legs with an innate elegance.
Alaster tracked Mila's striking figure for a brief moment, his eyes inevitably lingering on her large breasts before forcing himself to look away.
«I shouldn't be staring at women like that... I look like a desperate teenager,» Joseph chided himself.
— Well... time to see the boss, — Mila announced, lifting a section of the wooden bar to step out into the common area. — Follow me.
She guided the elf toward an imposing side door flanked by two guards equipped in iron plate armor.
Crossing the threshold, they entered a grand, high-ceilinged corridor. The bustle of employees was constant; a multitude of secretaries and office girls walked to and fro, carrying stacks of parchment.
They all wore the exact same uniform as Mila: a black pencil skirt fitted just above the knee, sheer black stockings that stylized their legs, delicately designed high-heeled shoes, and a crisp, long-sleeved white shirt with a high collar.
To Alaster, it seemed Mila filled out and wore that uniform with far more grace and sensuality than the rest of the younger girls.
Aside from the civilian staff, there were guards of both sexes patrolling the access points. The echo of footsteps resonated through the hallway, but to Alaster's ears, the rhythmic, suggestive clack-clack of Mila's heels beside him was the dominant sound.
— The Guildmaster, LessFeruz, is famous for his bulk, but also for being an incredibly honest man. You can relax, — she noted softly.
Alaster thought with a hint of frustration:
«Is my nervousness that obvious? Shit, I need to learn to control my expressions. First Arya and now her... having them read my face like an open book could be very dangerous.»
Suddenly, Mila reached out and took the elf by the arm, halting their pace.
— I almost forgot... I have to comply with protocol, Alaster.
The woman's hand held him firmly, but her fingers moved in a strangely soft manner against his skin. To Alaster, it felt almost like a caress, though he tried to convince himself he was just misinterpreting it.
— I have to search you to ensure you aren't carrying any hidden weapons. It's a strict security matter; after all, you're about to interview the most important person in the regional Guild—the man in charge of tens of thousands of adventurers in this territory.
To Joseph, the logic behind the measure was impeccable. On Earth, it worked the same way: you wouldn't expose the CEO of a corporation to the risk of an assassination attempt.
However, in the back of her mind, Mila was suffering through her own internal debate: «I can't believe I'm doing this! I'm risking my job over an impulse...!»
They walked a few more paces with Mila firmly gripping his arm. Her hands were warm and smooth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Joseph couldn't help but let his gaze drift toward the woman's generous attributes, which barely seemed contained by the fabric of her shirt; Mila kept a couple of the top buttons undone, leaving an enticing cleavage on display.
Standing at 5'11", he was a bit taller than her, giving him a perfect bird's-eye view of the sway of her pillowy breasts with every step, while the woman's hip occasionally brushed against his along that stretch of the corridor, which was becoming increasingly deserted.
The woman stopped before a dark wooden door.
— This is my office, — Mila lied with a steady voice, though inside her thoughts were chaos: «It's not my office, but I can't risk being caught red-handed... or hands-on-the-elf.»
They stepped into the study, and she threw the latch shut.
— Right, it's just a simple pat-down... — Mila smirked. «A search that, by regulation, should be performed by a male guard,» she thought with a spark of malice. — Could you place your hands there?
She pointed to a sturdy wooden desk.
Alaster let out a sigh. «Well, doesn't seem too different from procedures back on Earth.»
Joseph remembered perfectly well being frisked by the police during a raid on a bar he used to frequent during his salaryman days.
«I just put my hands on the furniture and spread my legs, I guess... But why am I getting these shivers? It's like I'm naked before her.»
He tried to chalk it up to the tension of the moment.
Mila felt her legs grow weak, and an electric shiver ran down her spine as she watched the athletic elf comply with the order, turning his back to her while spreading his legs and leaning on the desk. There was something immensely exciting about the fact that she was deceiving him, using an unnecessary farce just so she could feast on the texture of that sculptural body.
The mature woman licked her pink-painted lips. «This is too much, Mila, stop...» she warned herself, but her legs were already moving of their own volition toward him.
Feeling the hot air emanate from her own cleavage, Mila closed the distance.
Alaster, from his position, couldn't see her face, but looking down, he spotted the woman's enticing legs, clad in those black stockings, positioning themselves right in the space between his open thighs, directly behind him.
Mila's hands began a sinuous, slow journey.
«At least she isn't being rough,» Alaster thanked internally, relieved not to receive harsh treatment.
The woman's fingers ascended slowly up the elf's back, tracing the firmness of his shoulder blades, before transitioning to the front, sliding down toward his abdomen. Lacking the physical span to wrap around him completely from behind, Mila pressed herself shamelessly flush against him.
Alaster caught his breath as he felt Mila's generous, soft breasts flatten firmly against his back, while the receptionist's small, warm hands descended down his chiseled six-pack, dangerously approaching his crotch.
The elf swallowed hard. «No way... this... feels way too good. No, wait, focus, it's just a security check...»
— I have to check thoroughly... D-don't be alarmed, — Mila's high voice whispered behind his back, cracking under an increasingly heavy breath.
Mila ran her hands across Alaster's abdomen a second time, letting out a faint hiss through her teeth.
«Gods, this is too much... How can this elf be so hard and exude so much masculinity? The gods are cruel; they create a body and bestow it upon a race that is usually cold and indifferent.»
As she descended to his private area, Mila's palm traced the fabric of the elf's trousers and came into direct contact with a rigid, thick, and visibly altered anatomy. Mila yanked her hand back as her own body reacted violently, sending an electric jolt straight to her crotch, which instantly clenched and grew slick with moisture.
The woman squeezed her legs tightly together, panting as she stared down at her black stockings; she could swear the heat was such that she felt lines of sweat rolling down her thighs like tears of pure lust.
«Damn it!» Joseph panicked internally. «How can I get like this from a simple touch?! She's going to notice and think I'm some piece-of-shit pervert!»
Mila, her cheeks burning red, tried to reclaim composure in her mind: «Calm down! Be professional! It's just an inspection... Why am I so damn wet?!»
She felt another involuntary contraction as she beheld the prominent bulge straining the brown fabric of Alaster's trousers. Yielding entirely to her wanton desire, the woman slid her own free hand beneath her skirt, shifting her underwear aside. «I'm burning up...»
She slipped a finger into her own cleft, feeling her interior meltingly hot and dripping wet, while her other hand returned to the front of the elf, shamelessly stroking the rigid member through the cloth. Her immaculately manicured hand gripped the thick, fleshy shaft. «I can't even wrap my hand around it!» she thought, biting her lower lip.
The thought of being stretched by the imposing girth that dwarfed her hand mingled with her self-stimulation. Alaster, overwhelmed by the sensations, parted his legs slightly wider, seeking more pressure against the woman's hand.
Mila spurred her own intimacy with force, her spreading legs giving out under the touch of the three fingers now sliding frantically inside her. Her core boiled as she could feel every small, soft part of her channel yield and pulse against her fingers with a slick, squelching sound.
However, reason and the fear of being discovered made her stop before losing control entirely. Her hand withdrew, thoroughly soaked. Deciding that was enough, she halted the slick movements inside herself. Her face, which had twisted into a grimace of pure, restrained ecstasy with her lips pressed tight, let out a final, muffled groan as she abandoned her burning center.
With a swift, expert motion of her hidden hand, she adjusted her underwear and straightened up.
Alaster, keeping his eyes clamped shut, let out a long, heavy sigh. His manhood throbbed painfully against his tight trousers, left in an incredibly awkward position. He felt a scorching heat coursing through his entire body.
— Right... everything is in order, — Mila articulated, letting out a puff of air and attempting to hide her right hand behind her back.
Alaster turned around slowly to face her. The woman looked visibly flushed, her chest rising and falling at a rapid tempo. «Did she notice my erection? Is she offended or angry?» Joseph wondered fearfully.
Mila, on her part, thought with heavy irony: «Well, I certainly found a heavy-caliber weapon...»
However, her voice betrayed her nerves, coming out a notch higher than normal as she cleared her throat. «Why did this elf have such an imposing erection? Was he actually enjoying me touching him?»
The receptionist arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow; elves were supposed to be frigid beings who had no interest in humans. «Perhaps Alaster is a wonderful exception.»
The young elf forced a nervous smile, concentrating to make the tension in his trousers subside and relieve the ache of the tight fabric. But as he looked down, his eyes widened imperceptibly with sheer alarm. «Holy shit! There's no way she didn't notice. I don't remember it being that big!»
Mila, locking her brown eyes with a sly smirk directly onto the package protruding grotesquely from the young man's crotch, added suggestively:
— No weapons... just muscles, and... well, that.
Her smile reached her eyes.
— So... you think I'm muscular? — Alaster managed to say on pure reflex.
— Yes, — she replied with simplicity as she walked toward the door. — And very, very handsome.
She pushed the wood open. Her voice sounded casual now, like a routine compliment, but her mind was a whirlwind: «Shut up, Mila! You're just horny! Nothing good can come of this!»
That was when she heard the deep, masculine voice behind her:
— And you're sexy.
Mila spun around like lightning, her heart taking a violent leap. Between the surprise, the nerves, and the shock of seeing the elf stepping out behind her with that burning violet gaze, her mouth acted on pure habit. She dropped the exact phrase she had been using for over ten years of marriage to shut down rowdy, overstepping adventurers:
— I'm married.
The moment the words left her lips, Mila wanted to punch herself. «What the hell am I saying?! I'm practically divorced already!»
She was about to correct her blunder, but the hallway suddenly flooded with staff. In the distance, she spotted Avira—the actual owner of the office they had just sneaked into—marching strictly in their direction. With no time to lose, Mila grabbed Alaster by the arm once more and quickened her pace.
«Get a grip, Joseph. You never learn, do you?» the elf chided himself internally, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart.
«The woman gives me a single compliment and I instantly misinterpret everything. First the elf, then the innocent girl at the inn... and now a married woman. Control yourself, man.»
Mila dragged him hurriedly down an intersecting hallway, rounding a corner before stopping dead in front of a massive double door of reinforced wood and bronze.
«Right, I need to clear the air and tell him I'm in the middle of a divorce...» the receptionist thought, but her train of thought was brutally cut short by a female voice.
— Chief! I need you to take a look at this, please.
It was Avira, a Guild intern who stood considerably taller than Mila. Slender and dressed in the exact same office uniform, she held an unrolled parchment with a look of pure panic.
— I think I completely botched it... It's a suppression order for a Twin-Tailed Tiger, but the reward calculation is all wrong! — the young woman cried out in anguish.
Alaster watched the scene unfold with a serious, shadowed face, while Mila glanced back and forth between the elf and the intern, visibly exasperated by the interruption.
— Fine! — Mila snapped, instantly rebuilding her professional facade. — Alaster, this is the Guild's main office. Guildmaster LessFeruz is waiting for you inside. Best of luck.
As she uttered the final words, she slid her hand down the young man's back in a quick, low caress, perfectly angled out of the intern's line of sight. Alaster pushed the heavy door open while the two women walked away, bickering over the parchment.
«None of that matters right now», he told himself, crossing the threshold. «This is where I need to focus».
The Guildmaster's office was imposing—a vast space that was nonetheless strangely welcoming. The walls were paneled in dark wood and adorned with massive hunting trophies, while the floor featured large fur rugs from colossal beasts Alaster couldn't even identify. In the center of the room stood two sturdy, weathered leather sofas, separated by a low table of solid timber hosting two steaming cups of tea.
— Come in, — a deep, gravelly voice commanded.
Sitting on one of the sofas was a bald man of herculean proportions. He stood at least seven foot three of pure, concentrated muscle. A heavy scar sliced down the center of his face, giving him a terrifying appearance, though his eyes reflected a strange, discordant kindness.
As the young man walked in, the leader thought to himself: «Well now... so this is why all the receptionists have been running around the hallways like headless chickens lately. Without a doubt, this lad has the physique of someone who has trained to the limit, even if his height is fairly standard».
— So, you're the famous elf Mila is so worked up about, — LessFeruz continued, evaluating his posture. — You look a bit intimidated. Relax, take a seat.
Alaster walked forward with steady strides and sat on the opposing sofa, feeling entirely dwarfed by the absolute unit of a man sitting across from him.
— I am Alaster.
— Well, Alaster, welcome to the Guild. Second of all, unfortunately, I have to run another examination to legally certify that your spatial attribute is genuine.
Alaster nodded, keeping his composure.
— Don't worry, the process is identical to yesterday's, except we'll be using a much more potent orb.
The giant leaned to the side, retrieved a finely carved wooden box from a crate, and extracted a translucent sphere. It was similar to the one Mila had used, but it vibrated with a faint, internal luminescence.
— A single drop of your blood and we're good to go.
LessFeruz extended a small, sharp ceremonial dagger. Alaster took it, pricked the pad of his index finger, and let a single drop of crimson blood fall onto the artifact's surface.
Instantly, a complex sequence of golden runes began to dance inside the sphere. The Guildmaster placed a blank parchment beside it, which immediately began to absorb the orb's glow, magically engraving the results.
— The results are an exact match, — LessFeruz declared, shelving the parchment. — Your spatial affinity is real.
— So, what happens to me now? — Alaster asked, locking his violet eyes onto the giant. — Why go through all this trouble for a stranger? Why help me?
The Guildmaster let out a long sigh, leaning back into the leather sofa, which groaned under his immense weight.
— For me, it's a simple decision, Alaster. The idea of enslaving a sentient being strikes me as barbaric, and practically speaking, it invites far too many problems.
The giant paused, intertwining his thick fingers.
— Aside from the fact that submission spells tend to fail catastrophically when applied to individuals with immense power potential, elves do not take kindly to kingdoms that dare put chains on their kin. In the past, bloody and merciless wars have been fought over this exact matter. No ruler in their right mind wants the blade of the Elven Empire pressing against their throat... But of course, there are always those who aren't in their right mind and might try it anyway. So, do not lower your guard.
The Guild leader fixed the young man with an intensely serious glare.
— The Guild is an independent, international entity. We protect our associates above the laws of any local crown. You will not walk out of this room as anyone's slave. That being said... if you were to become a threat... tell me, Alaster, are you one?
— No, — Joseph answered, his voice firm and sincere.
— I know, — the boss concluded, his features relaxing. — You possess a powerful attribute. If you decided to lean the wrong way, as a criminal or something worse, don't you think that would represent a massive headache for me? It's better to have you as an ally.
To Joseph, the puzzle pieces were finally clicking together under the cold logic of Earth.
«He just wants to keep me close, under his supervision. Probably monitored. I don't love the idea, but right now, I don't have any other allies. I have no choice but to rely on LessFeruz for now».
— For the time being, we will keep your registration under strict state secrecy. To manage that, we already have a fake one prepared—perfect to justify our interest, but not so spectacular as an incredibly rare attribute, — the Master continued. — But you need to start moving. I know that in your current state, being barely Level 1, you probably don't grasp how mana flows or how to activate your skills. I have something that will be of use to you.
The massive man turned toward a bookshelf and placed a heavy stack of thick, leather-bound volumes on the table, all weathered from heavy use.
Alaster read the engraved spines: [Magic for Beginners: The Grand Collection], a colossal volume filled with yellowed pages; [Primary Offensive Spells], bound in a deep reddish leather; [Fundamentals of Formations and Runes], packed with intricate diagrams; [On Elves and Their Subraces]; Universal History; Useful Incantations: A Collection; and finally, a thin but arcane-looking book titled [Dimensional Space Magic: Theory and Practice].
— Obviously, you must maintain the secret of your attribute at least until you reach Level 70 and can defend yourself against anyone, — LessFeruz warned. — These grimoires will help you to...
— Oh, actually, I already learned how to channel magic, — Alaster interrupted entirely as a matter of fact.
The Guildmaster let out a booming laugh, taking it as a novice's empty boast. However, the laughter choked in his throat when Alaster raised his index finger and, with a subtle hiss of energy, conjured a flawless, stable flame that danced right before his eyes.
LessFeruz swallowed hard, visibly shocked by such fine mana control from a Level 1. He composed himself immediately, clearing his throat.
— Right... impressive. But even so, you will have to start from the lowest rank, just like anyone else. I assume Mila already explained the ranking system to you.
— Yes, she explained most of it, — Alaster nodded, letting the flame vanish.
— Excellent. The only spell I have registered for your attribute at this moment is Dimensional Storage. I hope you make good use of it, as I'm afraid you are the sole spatial magic user in the entire region. You'd best start with a simple request. I'll assign you one soon, suited to your level and equipment. I expect we'll see each other around, Alaster.
Alaster smiled, stood up, and gathered the volumes. A rustic rope bound the stash, serving as a makeshift handle. As he crossed the threshold of the Master's office, the door shut heavily behind him. Joseph let out a long breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
His hands were a bit clammy under the weight of the books, and a thin layer of cold sweat beaded his forehead. «I'm still free... whew, looks like I worried for nothing».
— How did it go?
Lifting his gaze, he ran straight back into the voluptuous receptionist. Mila stood there with one hand resting on her hip, sporting an impeccable yet undeniably sensual posture. Alaster blinked as he noticed a detail: she had changed her stockings to a much sheerer, lighter black, shamelessly revealing the pale skin beneath.
— Come with me for a second, I have one last instruction to give you before you go downstairs, — she said smoothly.
Alaster observed her closely. The woman exuded an alluring maturity, and Joseph was no saint, regardless of how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.
«What the hell does she want now? I thought she rejected me by saying she was married». He shrugged mentally. «It's just an instruction, no big deal». He nodded.
Mila smirked and took him by the arm again. This time, Alaster had zero doubts: the woman's fingers were moving over his bicep in a deliberate, constant caress. She guided him into a completely deserted, dim side corridor. In a fluid motion, Mila spun around and gave him a light shove.
Alaster took a step back, his shoulders meeting the cold stone wall of the hallway. Before he could react, Mila's breasts flattened firmly against his chest. Her hands swept up and gripped the elf's neck tightly, forcing him to tilt down a bit due to their height difference, as her heels made up for some of the gap. Alaster felt her entire anatomy pressing against his body.
The woman's delicate face leaned in close to his ear, her warm breath sending goosebumps down the nape of his neck. Joseph's body responded automatically to the stimulus. His hands instantly abandoned the weight of the books, wrapping around the woman's waist to pull her flush against him. Mila let out a small gasp of surprise, a light tremor rippling through her entire frame at the sheer firmness of his grip.
— If you want... to have some fun, beautiful elf, look for me after next Thursday, — the sensual woman purred into his ear, giving his earlobe a subtle, wet nip.
Mila's heart was galloping wildly against her ribs. «I haven't felt this alive in years! This elf is absolutely scorching hot... if he really wants to...» She felt the pressure of Alaster's hands tightening on her hips.
The elf, his voice strained with desire, replied with a whisper that sounded to her like a deliciously indecent proposition:
— Let's do it now. Right here, in one of these empty offices.
Mila let out a shaky sigh, feeling her legs give out completely in her heels. The tremendous rigidity of the elf's member pressed firmly against her abdomen through his trousers, unleashing a wanton fire inside her. However, making a herculean effort of willpower, she managed to restrain herself.
— No... not until next week, — she whispered, pressing even closer to his body. — I promise I'll let you do whatever you want to me... But you have to be patient.
Mila nimbly stepped back a few paces, straightening her shirt and instantly reclaiming her professional tone of voice as she heard distant footsteps in the main corridor.
— Well, rookie! Those are all the Guild regulations. You can seek guidance at the counter if you ever happen to need... as-sis-tance, — she concluded, emphasizing the last word with a suggestive wink before turning on her heel and clicking away.
Alaster picked up the heavy bundle of books from the floor, his face flushed and his breathing still somewhat erratic.
«Damn... that woman is definitely carrying a lot of frustration from her marriage and wants to vent it all on me», he thought with gritty realism, readjusting the tunic Mila had nearly unbuttoned completely. «In the end, I don't care. As long as nobody gets hurt and I can benefit from it, it works for me».
He turned around and walked with firm strides back toward the main Guild hall, hauling the heavy texts that represented his direct ticket to financial freedom—and finally, the long-awaited end of his economic dependence on the elf.
Crossing the threshold into the bustling lobby, he spotted Arya. The archer was still seated at the corner table, maintaining her usual air of superiority, but the moment she saw him approach, her posture stiffened slightly.
Alaster neared the wooden table, and before he could say a word, she raised her blue eyes and spoke with an unusual softness:
— Alaster... can you sit down for a second?
The elf didn't think twice. He dropped the stash of books onto the table with a heavy thud that made the wood vibrate. Arya blinked in clear surprise and, piqued by curiosity, stretched her slender fingers to shift the volumes, stealing a quick glance at the bundle's contents.
— My... — the elf murmured, arching an eyebrow. — It seems the Master gave you plenty of study material.
Alaster leaned back in his chair, thinking to himself that, apparently, the Guildmaster hadn't been the only one providing "material" during this visit. The receptionist had also left him with an erection of biblical proportions; one that, much to his chagrin, he would have to cool down later with a good bucket of cold water in the stable.
— What did you want to talk about? — the elf asked, cutting straight to the chase.
Arya froze in her tracks. She stopped snooping through the heavy grimoires and slowly straightened up in her chair. In her mind, the archer rallied herself not to lose her composure: «Come on... it's just an apology, it's not the end of the world. Do it mostly for your own peace of mind».
— It's... regarding what you probably overheard this morning, — she blurted out, locking her glassy gaze onto him.
Alaster, who had been slouched with utter nonchalance in his seat, bolted upright immediately, adopting a serious posture.
— Uh... right, — the elf acknowledged, crossing his arms to signal that he knew exactly what she was talking about.
— Well... I don't want you to keep dwelling on it. It's just... you know, I ran my mouth with Mirage, — she explained, averting her eyes to hide her discomfort. — I don't actually think you're a big, clumsy baby.
Then, breaking all distance, Arya extended her pale hand across the table and touched Alaster's. The contact was brief but firm.
— I... was immature.
The elf's face was completely serious. Alaster scrutinized her with his violet eyes; there was no trace of mockery or condescension in her features.
«It looks like she genuinely regrets saying those things, or at least feels terrible knowing I caught her red-handed. Either way, it's not like I hold a grudge», Joseph thought, relaxing his shoulders.
However, the elf wasn't done. She released his hand with a swift motion, pulling back as if she'd been burned, and Alaster watched in absolute astonishment as the beautiful archer's cheeks flushed a vivid, bright crimson.
— And the truth is... you're not bad-looking, — she added, dropping her voice to a bare whisper while letting out a small, fake cough to clear her throat. — I'd say... you're quite a bit handsomer than the average common elf.
Alaster's eyes practically popped out of his head. Not just from the unexpected impact of the declaration, but from the brutal contrast between how red her face was and the rigidly serious expression she was trying to maintain.
«No way! She's completely serious!»
Noticing the young man's shock, Arya rushed to add, her face burning hot but her gaze locked steady:
— Don't misinterpret me! I am strictly saying you are physically attractive. It does not mean I like you or anything of the sort at all.
She was still serious. Incredibly serious, and ridiculously red.
A smug smirk began to carve its way onto Alaster's lips. In an instant, his masculine self-esteem was catapulted straight into the clouds, erasing any residual doubt from his mind.
— I understand, — he finally replied, holding her gaze with a radiant smile. — I appreciate your honesty, Arya. You really are a great person.
«Much better than me, certainly», Joseph admitted to himself, remembering his old self from Earth. «I'm not sure I'd be able to swallow my pride and apologize like this if I were in her shoes. Either way, this elf saved my life; I never intended to hold a grudge against her».
Arya, finding herself cornered by the elf's massive, confident smile, abruptly stood up to cut the tension.
— I told you what I had to say, so I am leaving, — she declared, regaining her sharp tone. — Furthermore, you are still a massive idiot.
She spun around with an elegant twirl of her cape and took off at a brisk pace toward the Guild's exit.
«Bipolar...», Alaster diagnosed mentally, but the amused smile didn't fade from his face.
He rose from the chair in a single motion and grabbed the heavy stash of books by the rope handle, feeling lighter than ever. Now that he had the favor of the Master, the interest of a sensual mature woman, and the approval of the most beautiful elf in the place, the world didn't seem like such a hostile place anymore.
«Right, now to track down something sweet to eat before I forget», he thought optimistically, walking with firm strides toward the Guild doors.