On the first of many unrelated notes, I turned 15.
Six and half months have elapsed since the last time. I have been living in my new home with Shizuka. After that night, we ended up deciding on dating each other.
Although, unlike Japan, the elongated system of dating first for a long time and then marrying doesn't exist here, we still decided on doing it.
People dated here, of course, just the "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" terms weren't all that common. Nonetheless, that is the general gist of things. Due to this, we had to do a few things to remodel the house.
She shifted permanently into my room and due to that I had to change the orientation of my room. Well, I didn't change it. She did anyways since she said that staying for elongated time in the room stuffed so much boredom in her head that she felt like dying.
So the few changes that took place were the couches. We ended up completely discarding them and buying new ones since the previous ones.... Well, they weren't in the condition to be used even after thorough washing.
The bed sheets changed from completely white to floral and other kinds but I don't really mind as long. As long as I have a place to sleep, that is all that matters.
The book rack now had a few other things like some novels and stories dedicated to women and some other articles on women's clothes.
After one month, there was some other change she made. The change was rather a request, more than an order---to copulate only 3 times a week. Since her resilience is low, she wasn't able to walk for 2 days after our first night together. And due to doing it daily, she was completely crippled.
Although, it is her who breaks her own rules every night. Not my fault she has been cooped up in the same room for the last 5 days due to her having no restraint on herself.
As for myself, the sensation of fornication was something that felt extremely new at the start. And despite doing it almost every day, it doesn't seem to lose its effect on the mind. It's almost as if the body's hunger for the serotonin during sex is increasing day by day.
Strange. Most of my curiosities died out after one or two times of experiencing those things, but this was different. Maybe it was just puberty and a result of my negligence towards controlling myself. After all, I was striving to act... or even better, become something like a normal human this time around.
The result was as good as disappointing, but I think I have experienced a few things. Despite these feelings coming as a bonus package with this body and even though they weren't my own, I still experienced them. And most of all, I didn't get tired of them.
Well, progress is still progress at the end of the day..
Looking up from the human anatomy book of this world, I saw her sitting on the bed, wearing an oversized black shirt---mine, as she smiled at me.
"What?"
"Nothing. You're just looking too handsome today." She replied, placing her face in her hands as she rested them on her knees.
"Uhh, ok. Thanks." I replied, flipping the page as I reached on the part I was looking for. The human brain. "Would it be too much to wear something beneath too?" I asked before I started reading, looking at her bare thighs as she swung them back-and-forth.
And it wasn't just her thighs that were visible. The motions certainly showed more than what an oblivious eye would see.
"Hm? I should? But don't you like me like this?" She replied, placing her finger on her cheek, "I've seen you gawking at them all the time. So I thought why not!"
Uh... well, she wasn't wrong. If I had to choose something that enticed me the most, it most definitely would be the thighs. Not to say that the other parts of a woman's biology were unattractive, but to each their own. Preferences varied from person to person and there was no "ideal" thing.
Ignoring her question, I looked back towards the book. There are a few records of the brain being meddled with; they are too few. Only a scant few delved into this aspect and even fewer emerged out of it with any tenable, syllogistic results.
The most advanced form of tinkering was when a mage from a few hundred years ago extracted only a diminutive amount of information. But I've heard from Orsted, there exist people who can peer into other's memories. Maybe it was just him using his innate powers to make his way into big names of researchers.
Such things weren't all that uncommon.
While I was reading, Shizuka stood up and walked over to me, pushing herself through the gap between arms which was formed due to me holding the book. She snuggled up to me, burying her face into my chest as her arms cocooned me into a hug.
"Hm?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to get a bit cosy." She replied as she rose up and rubbed her cheek against mine before leaving a small peck on the cheek. She sure has gotten quite bold.
For the first week, every day, without fail, she would make a fuss and wouldn't show her face for hours as she used to hide inside the blanket. But since 10 days, she has gotten blisteringly wild and lippy.
There were a few complications in the start and she had a few fears. For example how she suffered from too much bleeding during the first time. The first theory that she thought was because maybe it was regenerating, so we had to check again....
Anyways, that wasn't the case. She was ageless, but not immortal. If I cut her hands or fingers, it won't grow back. Just like that, once her hymen was gone, it was gone for good.
A shame, but never mind.
"Get ready later in the evening." I spoke as I placed the book away and covered my lap and her in the blanket that was beside the couch.
"For what?" She asked, as she revealed her face from under the blanket, looking at me like a curious kitten.
Cute.
"We are going to the slave market."
"A girl?"
"Preferably a boy. But the girl works too." I replied as she sat up.
"But what for?"
"I'll tell you when we get there."
"No, no. Tell me noooow~" She nagged, trying to tickle me in the neck.
"You know I am not this thin-skinned."
"Well, I'll go as long as we go for some more shopping."
"Shopping? What for?"
"Clothes! And... shoes! and.... jackets? And.... some more furniture!"
"No."
"But why?"
"I don't know. But we aren't shopping."
She pouted and receded back into the blanket.
Somehow, I felt the zip of my pants open.
(***)
The market square was a chaotic mosaic of colours, smells, and sounds. Tattered banners and makeshift stalls lined the cobbled streets, their wares put on display for the highest bidder.
Buyers, mostly nobles adorned in lavish robes, haggled fervently with merchants, their voices carrying through the air like a discordant symphony.
But my attention was drawn to the centre of it all, where the heart of this morbid spectacle resided–-the slave market.
Slaves of every kind stood upon raised wooden platforms, bound in chains or ropes, their expressions ranging from resigned despair to fiery defiance.
There were beastfolk, their animal-like features betraying their lineage––feline eyes, lupine snouts, avian wings.
A lot of Elves—generally a very proud and free race were now reduced to chattel, their fair features a stark contrast to the grime that marred their skin.
Demons, their horns and tails concealed by tattered garments, their eerie eyes revealing a torment that transcended the physical.
My eyes flitted to a group of halflings, their short stature and round faces setting them apart. They huddled together, trying to shield themselves from the prying eyes of potential buyers.
Much to my own surprise there were mixed breeds too. Mixed breeds—bearing the lineage of both humans and other beings, were also on display, their existence a testament to the interesting entanglement of bloodlines.
Not so surprisingly, half-breeds were the most in demand.
I watched the demon women. Although they had animal heads, their physical beauty was leagues above normal humans.
"What are you looking at?" Shizuka mumbled, covering her face with the robe while pouting at me.
"Just appreciating her proportions. Nothing much." I replied and walked away from there.
"Hey! Wait... for me." She ran after me. Generally, she doesn't like crowded places due to the fear of foreign pathogens, but since other than mana there is no difference between humans, there aren't a plethora of things that can affect her.
Anyways, my gaze then shifted to a beastfolk woman, her feline eyes locked onto mine for a brief moment. There was a silent plea in those eyes, a spark of hope that flickered amidst the desolation.
I averted my gaze. There was no acknowledgement of the vulnerability in her expression for me. Emotions were a weakness. And other's plight of all things was something that would never sway me. Only what was of use to me held any true significance.
Or not.
The bidding for a group of elves had begun. Nobles raised their hands, signalling their interest in these once-proud beings. The auctioneer's voice rang out, his words a macabre melody that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy cloud.
The elves, each of them bearing the ethereal beauty of their kind, stood in a line, their heads held high. It was a stark contrast to the fear and desperation that lurked in their eyes.
I couldn't help but be drawn to a young elf, a girl of perhaps seventeen, her long golden hair cascading down her back like a shimmering waterfall. She was different, not because of her beauty, but because of the determination that blazed in her eyes.
She has a strong psyche.
Despite the chains that bound her, she refused to bow to her circumstances. There was a fire in her spirit, a spark of defiance that intrigued me.
A noblewoman, her jewelled fingers adorned with opulent rings, won the bid for the group of elves.
The auction continued, each lot of slaves finding new owners. It was a relentless cycle of suffering and despair, a reminder of the brutality of the world in which we lived.
But it has always been the same. The survival of the fittest. The only difference between my current one and this one was that there were different kinds of moral compasses for people. And even though slavery is looked down on, many people are serving under others in a way that is way worse than slavery.
Women forced into sexual acts or taken advantage of and men being stripped of their everything. The ones with the iron hammer and the intellect to use it properly were always the one who had the last laugh.
This simple fact has never changed. It has just gotten hard to accept over the years. On earth, people had started to deteriorate, the simplest of things meddling with their brain and even the slightest of resilience towards an opinion was met with harsh criticism.
Reason being the humans had become too soft.
But well, we are not on earth anymore.
As the day wore on, my curiosity remained, but it was tempered by a growing sense of unease...
"You are more tired than usual today, hehe." She commented, peeking from the hood of the robe.
"Who's fault is that?"
"You did enjoy it though."
"Hmmmm."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the market square, I turned towards the place that I had in mind.
In a world where the concept of value was often measured in wealth and power there was no place for empathy and compassion.
"This place feels suffocating." She complained as she looked around, visibly abhorred and a look of grand amnesty etched over her face. Usually she didn't care much about such things.
"We'll go back in a while." I reassured, walking ahead of her as I entered a shabby looking shop. It reeked of human wastes mixed in the metallic tinge of blood and the pungent smell of urine.
"You alright there, lad? Ya fancy something?" A rather good looking man spoke as he emerged from the shadows. He had dark violet hair draped over his left eye. The right eye was golden in colour, sharp and piercing. It had a slit in it.
Half breed.
"A young one. Someone with an affinity for sword or magic preferably." I replied, looking around at the scared faces in some cages while the others had a completely empty look in their eyes, the struggle to fight completely vanished from their eyes.
"Aye. This way sire." He directed me towards the innermost part of the shop. We walked down a spiral staircase with a rather narrow passageway.
"I'm claustrophobic."
"You're just mentally sick."
She huffed but instead of her usual grumpy expression, she stopped, huffing out loud.
Looking back, I saw her chest heaving up and down violently.
"Go back. I'll be back in a jiffy."
Without saying something, she turned around, placing a hand on her mouth and ran back up. Claustrophobia can cause panic attacks but nauseous feelings are unheard of. Guess I'll have to check later.
"Is your wife not from here?" The man asked, holding the lantern in his hand as he moved ahead of me.
"She's not my wife. Although yes, she's not from here."
"Oh? That's a shame. Well I guessed so since the lass doesn't look a dime like the blokes in these parts yeah."
"Mhmm."
"So? What are you looking for, sire?"
"I just told you."
"Nah, I meant, for what purpose. Ya looking for someone to serve ya instead of your... whatever the lass is to ya."
"No. Not for that."
"Alrighty. Well, then this one will do." He said as he hopped from the remaining 15 stairs or so and bolted towards a specific cage.
As we cautiously approached the cage, the cacophony of scratching noises assaulted our ears, each screech echoing through the damp, dimly lit place.
It was as though a deranged beast, driven to madness, relentlessly raked its claws against the cold surface of the stone wall.
The sound, initially distant and eerie, grew steadily louder, reverberating through the very core of the room, setting the nerves on edge.
The cage, bathed in the sallow glow of a flickering lantern, came into view with an ominous aura. Its iron bars, rusted and twisted with time, resembled the gnarled fingers of a malevolent specter, imprisoning whatever lay within.
Deep gouges and scars adorned the metal, evidence of countless attempts that teetered between desperate captives and the impending doom.
Every scrape, every agonized screech, painted a vivid picture of torment and confinement, intensifying the sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the air.
"Aight pal, here you got him. Her name is... Uhh..." The man said as he looked at a piece of paper.
It was a beast girl. However........
My attention was drawn to something... or rather someone else.
"What's in that cage?" I asked as my hand extended, pointing towards the wretched cage that emanated an overwhelming stench of excrement and decaying flesh.
The air around it seemed thick with the foul odors of despair and suffering.
The cage itself was an abhorrent structure within this dismal place, seemed to cower in the presence of its own malevolence.
The iron bars, once cold and unyielding, had surrendered to the corrosive influence of time and torment. They glistened with a sickly sheen, coated in a slimy residue.
My question hung in the air, a tremulous whisper amid the oppressive stench.
"Oh? This one? He has no name, but he showed some resilience and sword skill when our men tried to capture him. He is a half breed of human and demon race as you can see. Normally he would've fetched a high price for being the last of his kind but there are a few complications."
"Complications?"
"Well, you see the kid is mentally sick. He was found stuck in a crystal in a dungeon. The silver haired demons are supposed to have ended a few hundred years ago. This one is more of a mindless beast than a rational being. He's not worth it. As I was saying, this beast girl—-"
"Take his leash off."
The boy seemed to be 7 years old.
His physical condition, though marred by a bandage that clung to his shoulder and arm, spoke of resilience and defiance.
It was evident that he had been injured during his capture, the bandages still fresh and clinging to his small frame, a testament to the recentness of his ordeal.
Yet, despite his physical wounds, it was the haunting malnourishment that caught my eye. His body fat was practically almost non-existent.
His countenance had been hollowed by deprivation, his cheeks sunken and eyes shadowed by the relentless torment of hunger.
In his bright red eyes, however, there gleamed a frantic intensity, a glimmer of wild, feral instinct.
His short silver hair, now disheveled and matted with filth, spoke of the countless days spent in captivity.
The crazed look in his eyes was something that despite seeming like he was crazy, carried a feeling. The urge to not lose hope and carry on. To conquer and demolish, despite what life throws at him.
He was like me.
"Take his leash off."
The boy's fiery gaze, unwavering and defiant, locked onto me, burning with an intensity that defied his tender age.
My gaze dropped, and there, in the dim light, I beheld the grotesque evidence of his tenacious struggle. His nails had grown into nightmarish talons, grotesquely elongated and twisted into gnarled claws.
They seemed to have evolved into weapons, honed to deadly precision.
The enigma of the scratching noises that had haunted our approach was now unveiled. The boy had been using his nails, scraping them relentlessly against the coarse texture of the stone floor.
"I'll take this kid, How much is he?"
"Well, he's actually for 20 gold coins but for you good sir, I'll do 18." The man said as he checked the paper again. "But If you would buy another one, I could lower the price for both a bit more. After all, this one is useless"
He tried to get me to buy another one. His eyes seemed to have changed into a Gold Coin for some reason.
"No, I'll just get this one, Release him."
The man looked surprised for a second. "Are you sure? He is a fighter." He said a few seconds later.
"Yes, release him.."
The man shrugged and extended his hand, "Pay up first. Don't want any complications."
I threw a pouch of coins towards him. "Keep the rest."
"Yes boss." He bowed and then obliged and as soon as he opened the cage the little boy launched at me at a rather slow speed, but still an incredible one for a kid his age, even if he was of mixed race.
He immediately crouched in a lower stance.....like an animal. With his legs uncoiling like springs, he jumped at me, trying to slash me with his honed claws.
[Neutral]
His claws touched the thin sheen of space between us, scratching at nothing. Without wasting a second moment, he spun and kicked me with his shin.
Disabling the barrier, I blocked the blow with my bare hand. The bones in my arm seemed to rattle and I felt my eyes widen.
The explosive strength in his body was abnormal. He continued to attack like a wild animal. Based on pure physical stats, the kid was superior to Rudeus. And his magic reserves were much higher than mine despite not yet reaching the age of 10.
He went towards the corner, trying to mix his presence in the shadows.
"Don't you see how hopeless your situation is." I spoke as I turned around, seeing his grime laden face next to mine as I looked into his scarlet eyes.
My hand gently coiled around his neck and with a heavy thud, I pinned him to the ground. A guttural cry left his throat, however I inserted my middle and ring finger into his mouth and down his throat, muffling all sound.
"Stay still." I commanded as I brought the other hand towards his head.
[Derivative Magic-Memory Manipulation]
The tumultuous storms of his memories crashed against the boundaries of my own consciousness like a tsunami.
Hm.
(***)
After a brief session, I walked back up with the boy in tow. He had a rather vague look on his face, his expressions sullen yet determined. While it was said and assumed that the silver haired demons had gone extinct, it certainly wasn't true.
Eva was a prime example. However, there were a few things to consider. Eva was a half demon—-the same as this boy.
"Took you some tim—oh? Who's this young boy?" Shizuka asked, stooping down to his eye level.
"I ended up buying him." I replied as the boy averted his gaze from her, looking down as his fingers curled into fists.
"Aww, he's shy." She spoke and stood up. Good thing she got away before he scratched her face. Although there doesn't seem to be any hostility in him.
"Mhmm."
"How much did you buy him for?"
"18 gold."
"That's a bargain." She nodded looking at his dirt laden face.
"There was some trauma issue with him. That isn't much, although there seems to be a tumour inside his body." I broke the news as her eyes widened.
"Tumour? As in cancer type of tumour?"
"Mhmm. It can be removed though. There is a tumour in his colon but it hasn't matured yet. It's still on stage I."
"Is that bad? I mean... how does a kid even get cancer?"
"He's not a kid." I replied as she tilted her head. "Even though kids can get cancer as well."
(***)
3rd Person Perspective
Julian and the other two reached home after the sun had fully disappeared. Once they were inside, Julian pulled the boy with him to the bathroom. He—the boy, was exceedingly smelly and dirty, drenched in his own blood and body waste. As he pulled him, Julian felt him tremble in his grip.
For some reason, he seemed to be extremely scared of him after he looked into his memories. The reasons behind doing so were vague to Julian, but eh, never mind that. The little promise made to the boy is enough to get his fidelity towards him.
Reaching inside the bath, Julian directed him to get into the tub but the boy's response was far from cooperative. Instead, he began to flap his limbs in a wild frenzy, as if the very thought of entering the water filled him with dread. Looking down at him, Julian made a decision that was perhaps too hasty.
Nah, just a LITTLE hasty.
Without warning, Julian submerged the boy into the water, a low growl escaping his lips. It was a stark reminder of the boy's fear, as he hissed and struggled against the force that held him.
But it was not anger that fueled Julian's actions; it was a misguided attempt to cleanse the boy of the horrors that clung to him.
After all, Julian wasn't the best at expressing himself.
Nanahoshi's arrival in the bathroom disrupted the tense atmosphere. Her voice, laced with concern, cut through the turmoil. "Julian! Stop scaring the boy," she admonished, her hand delivering a sharp, yet well-intentioned, slap to Julian's arm.
"He needs a bath," Julian responded, his tone unyielding as he pointed towards the trembling boy, now submerged in the water.
Nanahoshi's determination was unshaken, and she addressed Julian sternly. "You," she pointed directly at him, "get out, now. I will take care of him."
Julian complied, departing from the bathroom with his usual stoicism as he shrugged his shoulders. "Be careful though. He bites," he cautioned, offering a glimpse of a scratch mark on his hand as evidence of the boy's defensive instincts.
With Julian's departure, Nanahoshi turned her full attention to the boy who cowered in the tub. To say her heart ached for him would be a stretch but she felt bad.
But she knew that the road to trust and recovery is always long and arduous—especially in this case. But she was determined to make the first step, to wash away the physical and emotional scars that clung to him.
Gently, she knelt beside the tub, her voice a soothing melody as she spoke to the boy. "Hey there," she began softly, her words carrying a warmth that was meant to reassure. "I promise I won't hurt you. You're safe now."
The boy's response was a hiss but looking at the sincerity in her eyes, it morphed into a nonvocal nod of his head, his eyes wide with trepidation.
It was a small sign of acknowledgment, a fragile thread of communication that Nanahoshi would patiently nurture.
Nanahoshi dipped a soft cloth into the warm water, its comforting temperature meant to ease the boy's trembling. She began to gently cleanse his soiled skin, her movements deliberate and gentle. As she worked, she continued to speak to him in a soothing tone.
"You're going to feel so much better after this bath," she assured him, her fingers deftly navigating the contours of his small body. "Make sure you're clean and comfortable after this. You should know how to bathe yourself."
The boy's fear began to wane slowly, replaced by a glimmer of trust in Nanahoshi's kind intentions. He allowed her to wash away the grime and the stains, as if he understood, on some level, that this was an act of care and not cruelty—unlike the white haired monster.
Nanahoshi took her time, making sure that every trace of dirt and grime was cleansed from the boy's fragile form. She rinsed his hair with gentle care, her fingers massaging his scalp in a tender, almost motherly, manner.
With each passing moment, the boy seemed to relax, his rigid posture giving way to a subtle sense of relief.
As she completed the bath, Nanahoshi wrapped the boy in a warm, fluffy towel, cocooning him in a comforting embrace. She cradled him in her arms, mindful of his fragility.
"You're safe now," she repeated, her voice a soothing lullaby. "You're with us, and we'll take care of you...." she paused before remembering how Julian is, "....well, at least I will." She said with a nervous chuckle.
The boy's eyes met hers, and in that moment, there was a glimmer of something more than fear—a spark of trust.
The boy felt safe in her presence. Although, at the same time, a thought crossed his mind. What is such a kind soul doing with someone like him? To the boy, the difference seemed like heaven and hell.
"Come on now, Julian's waiting."
(***)
"Well then, your name is Sullivan." Julian decided.
"Haaah? So strange. No."
"Alexander?"
"No. Too weird."
"Napoleon?"
"Are you serious?"
"Changez Khan?"
"Take it seriously, Julian."
"Kim Jong Un? Donald Trump? Joe Biden?"
"Bruh."
"Yoshide Suga?"
"Okay stop. I am losing brain cells listening to you."
"But they are good names."
"Can you not think of weird dictator and president names?"
"Hitl–"
"Just stop."
"Uh, ok."
Nanahoshi placed a finger under her chin as Julian looked at the boy, his curious eyes darting from him to Nanahoshi. His hair was quite a darker shade of silver, now combed to the side neatly instead of the rough bangs that he had before.
He was looking at Julian sceptically, thinking if he was holding her hostage. However, hearing them talk made him wonder otherwise.
"How about Adam?" Nanhoshi spoke, suddenly smacking her fist into her palm.
He looked at the boy, "What do you think?"
He nodded his head furiously, "Hm. Hm." He agreed.
"Well then, Adam. Hm. Work with me." Julian announced as Nanahoshi smiled, pulling the little boy's cheeks. "Now, go to bed, Adam. I have some business with her."
Both of them looked at Julian—an innocent look from Adam and a confuzzled Nanahoshi. "You forgot to finish what you started in the afternoon."
"Oh...crap."
|----------------|
Rudeus trudged through the knee-deep snow, his feet sinking into the icy abyss with each step. He wondered if this was some cruel test of his commitment.
After all, only a man madly in love would venture to the land of sword-sword sanctum covered in snow to meet his fiancée, Eris, in the dead of winter.
His breath puffed out in frosty clouds, and his cheeks turned a shade of red to rival Santa Claus. Rudeus thought about his own wish list: a roaring fireplace, a cup of hot cocoa, a teleportation spell that could whisk him away from this frozen hellscape and an Eris dressed in a bunny suit.
But alas, he had none of those.
"Maybe she's trying to toughen me up," Rudeus mumbled to himself, his teeth chattering in protest. "Or perhaps she thinks our love is so hot it can melt the polar ice caps, ehehe."
The Sword Sanctum loomed ahead, its towering spires glistening with icicles that threatened to skewer anyone daring to approach. Rudeus could only imagine Eris standing at the gates, clad in the light clothes and a fur-lined cape, looking like a warrior queen of the tundra.
He felt like a princess meeting her lover.
But just as he was about to reach the entrance, a gust of wind swept him off his feet, sending him tumbling headfirst into a snowbank. He emerged, sputtering and covered in a fresh layer of frost, looking more like a snowman than a princess.
"I hope Eris hasn't lost her sense of humour," he muttered as he finally stumbled into the sword sanctum's biggest inn.
And there she was, Eris, standing at the centre of the hall, her expression a mixture of amusement and fondness. She was standing in her usual stance—legs wide apart, shoulder length and arms crossed.
She approached Rudeus with the speed that seemed like the ultimate technique as she tackled him to the ground. He felt his teeth almost break as she pinned him down, kissing him in front of everyone like a wild animal devouring its prey.
Oh lord... my "embarrassment" kink is coming to life.
Rudeus tried to respond, but his frozen lips only managed a feeble moan. Eris smiled and got off him and pulled him to his feet and into a warm embrace, melting away the chill that had settled in his bones.
The ones present—-Ghislane chuckled while the certain blue haired girl blushed, looking the other way. "How obscene." She mumbled.
"Rudeus! You finally came!" She spoke in a loud tone, looking at me from up to down.
"Ah, yes...." Rudeus let out a laugh, scratching the back of his head as he looked away from her.
"Uh, Eris.... can we talk in private? I have something to tell you."
Eris' excited expression suddenly turned grim. It meant only one thing. If Rudues was this sulky and afraid of telling her something, it only meant one thing. She grabbed him by his collar, "You better have a good excuse for this one." She said through gritted teeth and pulled him into the nearby room.
"Haah? What was that?" The blue haired girl, Nina Farion asked, looking at the closed door that was the source of the loud noise of wood splintering and then at Ghislaine.
Ghislaine shrugged her shoulders, "Just him being his father's son."
(************)
Author's Note - Well, this is it for this chapter. I don't like adding OC's but this one had it's purpose. Since Rudeus bought a slave—albeit not for himself, I wanted Julian to have one too, for some security reasons.
This chapter was kind of the build up for what's to come later on. So don't whine if it wasn't worth the wait (ik already it wasn't)
Anyways, see ya all in the next chapter. Join discord if you want.
https://discord.gg/xUnbFDxM3N