"He thinks you're a demon that has me under your spell? How ridiculous!" Lyka laughed after I explained what had happened as we walked out of the kitchen, my body being jostled around between the large, plus pillows on her chest.
"Yeah, right…totally not under my spell," I replied, feeling bad at how I unintentionally put her in the infatuated state.
"Well, what shall we do now? Did you want a tour of the castle?" Lyka continued. "I mean you will be living with me, right? I feel like that's the best idea, because—
"Actually, I saw your father being summoned to the dungeon because the goblins from last night really wanted to talk to him. I wanted to head there myself," I answered. "Even though they were trying to hold you and your friend hostage, I feel kind of bad for them since they did come in handy at the last second."
"Ew, I was already in the process of getting those smelly goblins out of my head," the young woman shuddered. "Who cares? They'll probably be put in a labor camp in Tundra anyway."
Upon asking, I learned that Tundra was apparently a large, desolate province to the far north that one apparently would not want to go to. It didn't take much convincing, however, to get Lyka to take me anyway upon my insistence, where she replied with a "yes Master".
When we left the Belle mansion, which ended up being a wide, albeit short beige-colored brick castle, I got my first real look of Carverstead. It looked like a medieval European town that you'd see depicted in movies or TV, with simple wooden-stone houses all clumped together closely along winding streets of chipped cobblestone. Although visibly disgusted, Lyka allowed my cockroach vessel to ride on her shoulder so that I could retain my senses and see where we were going. It was admittedly pretty interesting to see the town, where every direction I looked had something different to look at.
Best of all, with so many people in close proximity, it was a buffet of kernel energy for me, where I'm sure I would have trembled if I could while I gorged myself at the steadily-flowing vitality that everyone was passively emitting.
Fashion-wise, the people looked very similar to the medieval peasants that they'd show in our history books, although with maybe more color to their outfits. They definitely looked a bit dusty and dirty depending on where they went, perhaps a symptom of the lack of modern technology. Or just a lack of bath houses.
After ten minutes or so of walking, we turned a corner and arrived at a large, solid, single-story castle-like structure that was off on its own away from the rows of houses. It was dark, dingy, and the iron bars across most of the windows revealed to me its purpose. Two guards were standing outside the building's double doors, and Lyka in a very Lyka fashion, intended to barge her way in.
"Move aside, I need to see my dad," the bratty young woman demanded, only for the soldiers to hesitantly block her way.
"Yes, Miss Belle, but the dungeons are no place for a young lady like yourself," the copper spearman insisted, unable to stop himself from leering at the corncob lodged in her breasts. "Your dad just got inside himself, he's probably—
"Move, or else I'll take off my clothes and push by, and then you'll have to touch my naked, dainty figure if you want to stop me," Lyka teased, before reaching down and threatened to pull her purple gown over her head.
"Ughhh," both now-blushing soldiers groaned, before one of them moved his spear out of the way. "Just pretend we didn't see you come in."
Nodding her head in thanks, Lyka skipped her way past the solid doors. I couldn't help but find her blatant entitlement entertaining. At least she was willing to go to lengths to get what she wanted.
Inside the dungeon itself seemed to be a simple building, with several large holding cells that were dark, damp, and left with only small piles of straw as a comfort to the prisoners inside. With a half dozen people seemingly sharing each cell, the grizzled, tough-looking convicts glared at us in the darkness as we walked by, with some even leering at the gorgeous young woman as her form-fitting gown stuck out in the dingy place. Moving deeper inside, I recognized the back of Soundov Belle's brown cloak, where he was flanked by two guards. From the cell in front of them, I heard some familiar voices.
"Mayor Belle, in the flesh," Dirx laughed, before his smirk became a more serious expression as he gripped the iron bars in front of him. "Now like I've been telling your scrawny guards over here, your whole town is in danger if I can't get in contact with my boss! You have to take me back to the highway by Red Sprout, I have a crystal ball hidden in a buried stash. He was expecting some form of payment by this morning, and he's going to be PISSED if he thinks I'm holding out on him."
"Yeah like c'mon, you do not want to get that fat-head angry!" Krissy added. "Did we mention he's a hobgoblin?"
"My green friends, I don't care if your boss is a hobgoblin or even a swamp dragon," Soundov replied calmly. "Carverstead has a garrison of 150 soldiers, that should be more than enough to take down any brute."
"50 at the moment, sir," one of the guards piped up. "The Capital called 100 ranks back over for redeployment. The military is having certain funding issues."
"Again?! Why am I just hearing of this now?" the mayor groaned, rubbing his temples. "That's fine. 50 men still should be enough to defend our town from one ugly hobgoblin."
"Human fool. Don't underestimate what some of us are capable of," Dirx said sternly, his shaggy dark hair almost trembling. "He knows where we are. Our big noses aren't for show. He'll find us even if he has to tear your town apart looking."
Referencing elements of fantasy back in my own world, I knew that a hobgoblin was usually just a larger, tougher goblin. I hoped that the mayor's confidence in his troops was correct, because I wasn't sure if I'd be able to take something huge in a "fight", but then again, I'd absorbed a lot of kernels…
"Daddy, we need to talk with the goblins," Lyka piped up, suddenly making her presence known.
"Lyka! Darling, what are you doing here in your pajamas?" Soundov chuckled, before his eyes bulged upon looking down. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING DOING THERE!?"
Oh yeah, he'd just noticed a familiar corncob nestled in the bosom of his beloved daughter.