Chapter 429
Chapter 429
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 429
Chapter Title: Merry Christmas
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1.
The Harvest Festival was now just a day away.
Eloa's door burst open as Sharon, whom she'd been waiting for, strolled in with eager anticipation, sipping her drink.
"Duchess Tiphereth! I've arrived!"
Sharon's bright smile made anyone want to get close to her.
Tucked under her arm was a cardboard box, her mint-green eyes sparkling. The factory-stamped material and meticulously taped packaging immediately marked it as a modern-world item.
"I'm so glad you made it on time. End-of-year rush meant a backlog of shipments. I had to hound them endlessly to get it here..."
It was her first time preparing a gift for a man—a date, no less—for the Harvest Festival.
She had no idea what to prepare or what to do.
"Sharon, I'm always so grateful to you."
"Oh, come on. That's just how we live—helping each other out."
Sharon had been the one to actively assist Eloa.
The four from the Council of Fair Distribution shared a friendly rivalry, far from cutthroat competition.
Of course, she bickered oddly often with the twins, but Eloa's perpetual clumsiness at everything made Sharon want to help her out.
And so, Sharon had helped Eloa prepare her ultimate weapon.
Eloa's eyes gazed reverently at the box on the table.
Inside lay the surefire killer outfit they'd debated and selected for this special day.
The box, wrapped in plastic for waterproofing, was opened.
Revealed was a precious garment from across the sea and the barrier.
"This is..."
Sharon had already fully explained the gift's contents and purpose.
But the moment Eloa pulled out the clothes, she couldn't help doubting her choice.
They were far too unconventional to qualify as proper "clothing" for covering the body.
"The material looks amazing. Feels high-end."
"......"
The fabric was indeed top-notch, even by Eloa's standards, just as Sharon said.
But overall... it was a bit off.
A leotard fused with a waist-cinching corset, ending in a fluffy pom-pom tail.
Sky-high heels she'd never worn in her life.
A band left open at the shirt cuffs, paired with black pearl cufflinks.
Garters and over-the-knee stockings.
A ribbon shaped like bunny ears.
Let's be honest.
Eloa's special ultimate outfit was a bunny girl costume.
For reference, she'd agonized over Santa girl versus bunny girl before settling on this.
She'd seen the designs in the catalog and deliberated endlessly, but imagination and reality were worlds apart.
The exposure rivaled a swimsuit—lewd, embarrassing enough to stiffen Eloa on the spot.
"Sharon, isn't this... a bit much?"
"It turned out super cute, though? It'll suit you perfectly. Your hair and eyes are so beautiful, Duchess."
Sharon beamed as if it were her own gift.
Having lived with Siwoo in the modern world, she'd scoured the internet for dating and boyfriend tips.
Plus, media everywhere touted "bunny girl outfits fulfill men's fantasies," hence her reaction.
"......"
But Eloa was different.
Though she'd spent ages in the modern world, 99% was in harsh frontiers—no chance for such info.
She doubted Siwoo would like this bewitching getup.
Yet she couldn't ignore Sharon's goodwill—running around, deliberating on outfits just for her.
Showing dismay now would put Sharon in an awkward spot.
I'll just try it on.
With that, Eloa excused herself to the dressing room.
The Jemernai Count's guest rooms were practically mini-mansions.
The dressing room wasn't some simple closet—it was a boutique-sized space with storage rivaling a small shop, full-wall mirrors, and more.
Eloa stripped quickly, donned the garter belt, and struggled into the leotard.
She pulled up the stockings, clipped them, and was mostly done.
"Ah..."
Looking in the mirror, Eloa realized her mistake.
The leotard's crotch panel was way too narrow.
Her pubic bone and inner thighs were fully exposed, even the flesh where her legs folded.
Wearing her usual underwear made the panty edges poke out unsightly.
Hesitating, Eloa stripped those too for a perfect fit.
An aggressive isosceles triangle dug between her legs.
Her breasts, legs, and butt were squeezed so tight it felt two sizes too small.
"Ugh..."
Unfamiliar shame flushed her face.
Pathetic, age-inappropriate, undignified, lascivious—endless negatives.
It was that embarrassing.
And these heels? Ankle-sprainingly high, making her feel taller already.
No way she'd face Siwoo like this. Better strip than appear in this state.
"All dressed?"
"Sh-Sharon! Don't come in!"
"It's fine—I have to check it out."
Sharon entered despite protests.
Her eyes widened, sparkling.
Eloa always wore practical, loose clothes—even dresses were baggy ones.
This bunny girl getup was a brain-melting transformation, stunning even for Sharon as a fellow woman.
And, not that she should say it, adorable.
"Duchess! It suits you perfectly!"
"Thanks for all your help, Sharon, but... I don't think this works..."
"Huh? Why? You're so cute like this!"
"It's just so... pathetic? I wonder if I can even call this clothing..."
"That's how these outfits are! It's a special event."
"Even so..."
Eloa fidgeted, listening intently to Sharon.
"Outfits like this are a surefire hit with guys."
"Why on earth?"
"The cute and sexy combo, maybe?"
"Is that so?"
Lacking prior knowledge, Sharon's praise quickly bolstered her.
Eloa eyed her outfit half-dubiously.
Sharon's words cut through her value clash with new info.
"Yeah! And Siwoo will love it."
"Siwoo would?"
"Yep!"
The clincher: Siwoo would like it.
Sharon, longest by his side, was credible.
No matter the embarrassment—if he liked it, she'd wear it.
"...Really think he'll like it?"
"Absolutely. Trust me on this."
"......"
After a moment's thought, Eloa nodded slowly.
"Thank you, always helping me. How can I ever repay you...?"
"Hehe. No biggie. My master always said witches should help each other."
Sharon grinned back.
2.
After the steamy mishap with her twin mothers-in-law.
Unlike the modern world's chaos, days in Gehenna flowed peacefully.
Casual magic research with Sharon, playing with the twins, sparring with her master—lazy days.
Time slipped by until the big event loomed.
The Harvest Festival Siwoo had secretly awaited as a slave started tonight.
Invited to dine with the Jemernai Count, he'd join the feast.
Attendees: Jemernai Count, Odil, Odet, Sharon, Eloa, Siwoo.
Arriving early, only Deneb Jemernai sat at the table.
Siwoo and Deneb had shared a hot night just two days ago.
For verification, sure—but memories lingered of losing themselves.
Awkward to face her now.
But with eyes met, fleeing felt off.
Siwoo bowed politely.
"An honor to be invited."
"Come on in."
Deneb would normally greet with elegant poise.
Today, her face was stiff as hard bread.
He'd hoped for mature handling from a countess—wishful thinking.
"......"
"......"
Was there a more uncomfortable spot?
No clue what to say, silence equally awkward.
"Siwoo."
"Yes, Countess."
"Well... never mind."
Deneb stared at the tablecloth.
Glancing at Siwoo intermittently, then down again.
Looked like she had tons to say—hoping he'd prompt her.
"Feel free to speak if you have something on your mind."
"Yes, actually. I've been mulling it over for days."
Her grave tone, as if she'd waited for his cue, stirred inexplicable unease in Siwoo.
Was she retracting the verification now as meaningless? Telling him to leave the twins?
Her ultra-serious face screamed bad omens.
"We... did it, right?"
"Yes."
"I showed you some embarrassing sides then. Quite unseemly."
Context mattered.
Thankfully, his dread missed the mark.
Deneb seemed mortified by the memory—he'd smooth it over.
"No, it was purely for verification..."
"No, that's not what I mean. I want you to realize you're misunderstanding something."
"Misunderstanding?"
Deneb continued calmly, like reciting a thesis.
"Truth is, I was acting that night."
"...?"
"Wasn't that pleasurable, but I played along so you wouldn't lose confidence. Reflecting, I realize I caused a huge misconception—like I was utterly enraptured."
"Ah, yeah, sure."
"White lies lubricate relationships, but correcting resultant errors is right."
"I see."
"It wasn't that great for me. But don't despair too much—not zero pleasure, so no need to doubt your manhood. Just needs work."
"Got it. I'll keep at it."
Siwoo nodded along, grasping her intent.
Deneb, pleased her explanation landed, hid smug satisfaction behind a gentle tone.
"That's all from me. We've prepared a finer feast than usual—enjoy."
"Thank you."
They say daughters resemble mothers.
Seeing this no-better-than-nothing excuse, Siwoo inwardly mused the twins and their countess mom weren't so different.