Chapter 20
It was an order from the new guest, but her tone was whiny. And deep in her eyes, there was an unmistakable tremor she couldn't hide—a mix of shame and anxiety, like what if he refuses?Hmm. I never thought I'd say this, but she actually looked kind of cute. I glanced at Mirien awkwardly, then let out a sigh.
Her face stiffened slightly at my words.
"Is it unpleasant for you?"
"No. I'll tuck you in. A good night's sleep is important, right?"
At my response, the queen extended both arms again. I carefully embraced her. An exotic scent wafted from her body—unfamiliar, yet pleasantly soothing. I held her close and pulled the covers over us. Unlike my rigid stiffness, Mirien's body was melting into relaxation.
"This feels good. So reassuring."
"I'm dying of discomfort here."
"Shut that mouth and hold me tighter."
I did as she commanded. We stayed like that in bed for a while, me in a back hug position. As our bodies warmed up, the drowsiness I'd just been chased away by came rushing back. Was Mirien tired too? Her breathing grew steadily softer.
"Thank you."
She suddenly expressed her gratitude.
"For heeding my whims."
"I understand the life you've lived."
"You understand."
Mirien turned her head slightly to look at me. She really was beautiful. Don't look at me like that. It keeps stirring up weird thoughts.
"You're the only one who understands me."
"There will be more. As long as you don't forget the advice I gave you."
I let out a long yawn. I was truly exhausted. I buried my head in the pillow and closed my eyes.
"Please hurry and remove the Blood Oath mark too. Got it? What if word gets out?"
"I don't want to remove it."
"Don't be stubborn."
"And what if I am?"
"Value yourself more. You're a grown woman—you can't just volunteer to be a sex slave or whatever."
This was really my limit.
"I'm out. Good night, Mirien."
For some reason, Mirien's body twitched briefly at my words, but I was already drifting off before I could fully register it. After that, I remembered nothing.
The next morning, Mirien was gone from my bed. But that evening...
"Come. Tuck me in again."
Mirien appeared in my room once more.
A few weeks remained until the fortune-telling shop's opening. The Sun's Tear was steadily being produced by the alchemy guild, and the tax issues—as well as the shop operations and expansion—had been resolved in one fell swoop thanks to Count Yurtel. I had nothing to do. I just lounged around the house leisurely, ordering room service for meals and enjoying my idle time. It was sweet heavenly recompense for the hellish busyness of the past few weeks.
"I have come."
And that heavenly time had an uninvited guest. Every night, an unauthorized visitor showed up. I didn't have separate errands or appointments, and having someone to talk to wasn't bad—but wasn't this a bit much, coming every single day?
Mirien's sudden visits and demands were utterly absurd.
"Tuck me in. Hold me tight again this time."
Whining like a baby in her majestic royal tone.
"I'm hungry. Do you know how to cook anything? Make something for me. Even simple fare would be fine if you cooked it."
"Then room service..."
"I want something you cooked yourself. Can't you?"
Insisting on my personal cooking instead of room service.
"Brush my hair before bed."
Requesting a hairbrush.
"Apply ointment to my back. They say it prevents scars when used with the antidote."
Asking me to do what spirits could handle easily.
"An onsen, is it? I want to try bathing there. Won't you join me?"
Pestering me to bathe together.
After these trivial things together, she'd fall asleep beside me at night. And in the morning, she'd vanish, only to reappear in the evening. Surprisingly, as time passed, I began looking forward to her visits.
"That massage you did last time felt good. Rub my legs after the onsen."
Her tone was commanding, but she'd notice immediately if I seemed uncomfortable.
"If your hands tire, no need to force it."
Then she'd back off right away, giving me that pitiful look begging not to be chased away.
"No conversation tonight."
"Yes."
"Perhaps... my presence here bothers you?"
"No."
"I knew it. Surely even you can't escape the allure of my beautiful body?"
"Correct."
"Then stroke my hair."
"Pardon?"
"My hair. Stroke it. It helps me sleep when you do."
Sticking right by my side, refusing to leave, and demanding more skinship.
"Wh-where are you going?!"
Waking from half-sleep to head to the bathroom, only for her to jump up and grab my sleeve.
Where had that initial sexy, sensual allure gone? She was slowly turning into a massive pet lounging at home. And honestly... it was adorable. Like adopting a stray cat that never learned how to bond, gradually growing close. Of course, for a stray, her breasts were too ample, and her dark skin with long hair was excessively sexy.
"So. When will you remove this sex slave mark you engraved on me?"
Mirien, who appeared around 10 p.m., lay on the bed after her onsen bath. As I massaged her calves at her leg-shaking request, she chuckled softly.
"The trials are all over. Why haven't you removed it yet?"
"Isn't it fun? Keeping a thrilling secret you can't tell anyone."
"Not thrilling."
"I don't want to remove it. Without it, instant-traveling to your room every night would be hard."
"Then don't come."
"I can't sleep without you. And the massages feel great."
"What if I use this mark on you someday?"
At my words, Mirien looked at me with a strange expression. In an instant, the half-melted giant pet cat from bath and massage transformed into a sensuous beauty.
"If you use it, I won't refuse."
Anticipation. Lust. Temptation in an erotic smile. No matter how virginal, a dark elf was a dark elf. Truly... promiscuous. No one fit "virgin bitch" better than Mirien.
I met her gaze with calm, subdued emotions.
"Do you love me?"
She couldn't answer. The lust faded, replaced by confusion.
"I don't know."
"Then I don't want to."
"Why?"
"I told you. I want it with someone I love—someone who loves me back, and I love them. Mutual feelings. Purely physical relations feel empty to me."
"It doesn't suit you."
"Why?"
"In dark elf society, exceptional men keep multiple concubines. In Kaien, you could have assembled an army of them."
I chuckled.
"I prefer not just physical pleasure, but a friend-like bond where we open our hearts."
Mirien stared blankly into space for a long while.
"A friend. That's difficult. For me, purely physical is easier to understand."
"That's why I don't want to with you, Mirien. We're total opposites."
She gave a playful smile.
"Then... if I sort out my feelings and truly come to love you, would you?"
"If you understand love that well, you'll find someone even better than me. Who knows what fate brings? Choose a partner you truly love with your heart. Don't fixate on me."
"Slippery eel. Others of my kind would have ravished me by now. So picky."
"I'm not a dark elf. Alright, that's enough for today! My hands are tired."
Mirien lifted the covers.
"Come in and hold me."
I slipped under and embraced her tightly. She sighed in relief, nestling into my arms.
"Am I fated to be a wise ruler? Divine the future."
"I can't see your future anymore, Mirien."
"What?"
"Our futures have intertwined. I can't see my own, so yours is blocked too. Stop relying on me. Live by your own strength, as you wish."
I stroked her hair.
"Sleep. Tomorrow, I probably won't have time."
"What do you mean?"
What else? The moment I'd been waiting for had arrived.
"The shop opens tomorrow, Mirien. I might be busier than you."
While tumbling around with Mirien for weeks, my long-awaited fortune shop was finally complete.
The opening ceremony was grand. Yurtel promoted it massively across the entire dimension. Flyers were posted everywhere, and the count invited droves of reporters from broadcasters, newspapers, and magazines to widely announce the great sage's fortune shop opening.
And then... it exploded.
"...You're saying all those people are here for me?"
A pitch-black mountain of humans was crammed densely outside the window. To my dazed question, Knight Captain Marco nodded.
"So many that most of Yurtel's police and knights are mobilized for crowd control. Impressive, Great Sage."
"I can't see that many alone today."
"No need. They're not waiting on the street—they came for number tickets. Even if it takes a day or two, they'll fill the pockets of hotels, theme parks, and restaurants. Souvenir shops too."
"What if they miss their turn while sightseeing?"
"The tickets have mini-magic comm chips linked to the shop's system. Real-time wait counts displayed—no worries."
I let out a hollow laugh.
"The count really sharpened his knife, huh?"
"Of course. Just focus on consultations, Great Sage. Settle accounts at month's end."
Relieved, I took a deep breath, straightened up, and headed to the consultation room. Not flashy, but upscale and calming.
"Great Sage, shall we open?"
Well-trained staff waited to assist. I nodded.
"Open up."
And daily life resumed.
Reading target's information!
I read the info, combined it wisely, and gave needed advice. Customers knew their turns in advance, so no chaotic crowds. I ate meals leisurely, rested weekends, and clocked out on time. The count's arrangements made operations smooth; customers were happy without street-waiting ordeals.
"Hey. I'm dumping my life savings at the casino tomorrow. You see the future, right? Predict every card the dealer holds and write 'em down. If it's bullshit or wrong, you don't know what I'll do. Got it?"
Troublemakers appeared occasionally. And those were...
"Wh-what the hell! What is this?!"
"Sir, please step outside. Do you like soup? We'll give you a unique experience—soup through the nose."
"N-no! I was wrong! Wait, just a—..."
Knights and police waiting inside snatched them faster than light.
"No joke. Not some cheap local joint. Recited my past like a book."
"Said my mom had a disease, she'd die soon—checked, and it was true. Still gives me chills..."
"Makes you reflect on life. Worth every 500 runes."
My shop paved a smooth road. Daily crowds at the door; Yurtel screamed in tourist bliss.
Newspapers and media spread the word; my fame rapidly blanketed the Cardran Empire. And around then...
"Great Sage, weekends off?"
"Yes, Count. Why?"
"Available then? Secretly, at your royal suite."
"I prefer resting weekends. Nonstop weeks are grueling."
"Please make time. The Nine Towers' Tower Master requests a consultation. Wants to meet you covertly."
"...A Tower Master?"
"Yes."
Tower masters, celebrities, and self-made tycoons who had earned their noble titles began seeking me out.