Chapter 719
Chapter 719
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 719
Chapter Title: The Husband's Scent
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1.
The moment Lydia stepped out.
Si-woo tossed the thong panties she'd given him as a gift carelessly onto the bed and paced around the bedroom.
"Wow, this is pretty. Oh, this looks expensive."
To reiterate, riding the current situation to slip out of Hexennacht wasn't a good plan.
Escaping alone was one issue, and so was the fact that her trading partner was Duke Ererim—someone she only knew by sight.
Fundamentally, there was no guarantee Lydia would keep her word.
That was why Si-woo muttered nonsense while surveying the bedroom: to search the room without arousing suspicion of plotting an escape, even if there were surveillance devices.
"What's... this one?"
He slithered like a snake toward the desk.
Pretending to admire the dream capture dangling from the lamp stand, he snuck a glance at documents covered in elegant scrawls.
The mountains of papers stacked everywhere appeared to be ones requiring her approval as head of the Solidus Trading Company—ship numbers, cargo pickup port locations, and the like.
He'd already noticed she handled business in a wildly disorganized style.
Unfortunately, nothing useful caught his eye.
An industrial spy might have pocketed a few tidbits, but that wasn't his goal.
"......"
Still, who had she gone off to meet?
The question popped up as he headed obediently back to the bed, avoiding drawers that might raise her guard.
2.
Linne shared the critical information she'd uncovered with Lydia.
That Shin Si-woo was presumed to have killed Roger and fled.
Citing the dire urgency, she demanded immediate, discreet cooperation from the Solidus Trading Company.
It handed Lydia leverage, while serving as proof of Linne's desperation.
Lydia, who understood Linne's principles inside out, set her shock aside for the moment.
"If it's gotten that messy, I can't just roll over for you, right? You get it? I could end up branded a traitor for smuggling a Hexennacht criminal."
"I understand."
Instead, she seized the advantage, exploiting Linne's bind.
Lydia laid out two conditions.
Absolute secrecy.
And a contract to sell her Si-woo the instant they secured him.
It was all for show, of course—but Lydia's style was to wring every last drop of profit, so this much was necessary to avoid seeming off.
As expected, the cornered Linne nodded readily, though gravely.
"I'll request the search on those terms."
"You mean it? Sign this contract while you're at it, if you can."
"...Better than dying. He broke the rules, after all."
It was a raw deal for Linne, but she had no real choice.
"Don't worry too much. We'll nab him first."
"Thanks. I'll start searching right away too."
Lydia offered a light reassurance, then clicked her tongue at the door Linne exited through.
"Sorry about that."
Who would've thought she'd ever hear "thanks" from that stoic Linne?
This was exactly why witches shouldn't fall in love.
They turned into idiots overnight.
At any rate, the pesky interloper was out of the picture.
Tunnel-visioned Linne would comb Hexennacht for Si-woo without considering alternatives.
Just have four subordinates make a show of searching from here on.
"I'll take good care of Linne's dear husband."
With buoyant steps back to the bedroom, Lydia casually scanned the room.
Checking against her memory for anything disturbed.
Easy enough for her—she knew the position of every collectible down to the millimeter, clutter be damned.
Si-woo was just lounging on the bed, no signs of snooping.
"Waited long?"
"Who stopped by?"
"Just an important guest."
Situationally unchanged from before, yet Lydia felt her pulse quicken more than ever.
Confirmations were still needed, but she'd verified Linne's blind devotion to Si-woo firsthand.
Tame him right, and the Sword Witch could be more than a one-time alibi—she could wield her freely.
Profits all around, so a tune bubbled up unbidden, though her mind tilted toward raw lust.
The thrill of stealing another's lover wasn't just for men.
Netorare had enthralled audiences East and West since time immemorial, hadn't it?
Claiming in bed the man so precious supreme Linne would kneel and beg? Mental fuel enough to amplify every sensation.
Lydia untied her waist sash and shed her dress in one fluid motion.
"Come here."
"Pardon?"
"Mmmph...!"
She practically lunged into Si-woo's arms and mashed their lips together.
Tongues tangled amid lewd slurps.
"W-what's this?"
"Haa, haa... I'm soaking wet already... More kisses, hurry. Chuup, chuuup..."
Deepening the sloppy kiss, she teased his cock erect between her sleek thighs.
Her hand seized the searing shaft, and in tight woman-on-top, she impaled herself.
"Haaang...! Aaang...!"
"Did you down some weird potion on the way?"
"No, just... suddenly so horny..."
To paint her arousal in terms a man could grasp...
Like ravaging at will the wife of that annoying coworker (Lindol)—with Lydia gripping both carrot and stick, leaving the wife zero say.
"Why?"
Lydia ground down atop him, hips pistoning with a husky moan.
"Haa, aaang... Linne dropped by. Looking for you like crazy."
"Me? Yeah, figures."
"Impressive, getting Linne that smitten. Hehe, and calling you 'husband'? I nearly died laughing."
"......?"
Overwhelmed by frenzy and the cock zapping her novel pleasure spots, Lydia blurted info that planted seeds of doubt in Si-woo.
"Should I call you husband too? Or maybe 'hubby'?"
"Whatever feels right."
"Haa, hubby... Then let's kiss some more..."
Linne showing up tracked.
Disciple vanished—she'd naturally poke around.
But the "husband" bit raised flags.
Right then...
Linne, fresh out of the Almak Club, headed straight for a mansion in Arcana Town.
"......"
No need to hunt for Shin Si-woo's whereabouts.
Her faith-fueled hunch had already yielded ironclad proof.
She knew exactly where he was.
Back during the tense standoff with Lydia.
Linne's keen nose caught a faint—but unmistakable—scent.
Her husband's aroma, diluted but present.
From Lydia, who claimed total ignorance of his disappearance?
Whatever followed was moot.
The picture crystalized, and Linne bowed to Lydia on the spot.
She even spilled that he was her intended groom—and the suspicion he'd killed Roger, handing over her weakness.
Playing the clueless desperate fool, gaps and all.
To Lydia, she'd look like a gullible idiot wasting time on lies.
But it was calculated to drop Lydia's guard toward her completely.
If the Solidus Trading Company—greedy Lydia especially—had Si-woo, no way they'd yield him meekly.
Her blatant fib to Linne screamed it.
"Just wait a little."
Of course, Linne had zero intention of abandoning Si-woo.
3.
"Fucking hate this... Work's a drag... Wanna take vacation..."
Randa Sylphid, who'd clashed with Si-woo at the tavern before.
She'd dragged Dorothy along to chew him out, only to flee humiliated.
Yet Randa nursed the grudge without truly honing a blade of revenge.
A low-rank witch not even Archmage couldn't claim prime public perks without talent and grind.
No bandwidth for lowlife time-sinks.
Gulping booze, she fudged ledgers to launder on-world funds, ruffling her hair with heavy sighs.
Third day straight without a proper bath, buried in work.
Strong whiskey was mandatory to prop up her frayed sanity.
"M-more... alcohol..."
Dazed, her hand groped blindly for the glass.
Even then, her eyes stayed glued to papers—until an odd noise hit her ears.
-Puk
Unease bloomed simultaneously.
Her hand... wasn't responding right.
Puzzled, she looked down—and gasped in awe despite herself.
A breathtaking blade cleaved the moonlight spilling from the window, standing ramrod on the desk.
More precisely...
"Uh..."
It had pierced straight through the back of her hand—ignoring her autonomous defenses—nailing it to the table.
Blood bloomed belatedly across the white paper beneath her palm.
Pain lagged even further.
"Uh, uh... Kyaa..."
About to shriek at the horror, a silvery edge propped her jaw.
The figure parting the shadows: Linne.
Short sword gripped reverse-thrust into the hand, longsword extended—she stared icily, wordless.
Scream, and die first.
"...Ghkk... Khuk...!"
Gritting molars to choke down agony, Randa gawked at the impossible scene.
Violence had never scarred Hexennacht before.
The city thrived under ironclad, meticulous, absolute rule.
"W-what the hell are you..."
Yet crimson welling on her hand snapped reality home.
"Report the Solidus Trading Company's—and Lydia's—schedule."
Linne had made her call.
"Lie, and you die."