Chapter 355: Chapter 354 – Finally Arranged Nurses for Wives

Vivian breathed, feeling warmth return to her chest after holding her breath. The silence hung thick between them and this man—Victor, he called himself. Gwen stood rigid beside her, bow lowered but hand still near the quiver.

The man’s purple eyes tracked between them, waiting. Blood continued trickling down his temple, but he didn’t seem to care. Just stood there with that slight smile playing on his lips, like this whole situation amused him.

Vivian cleared her throat. “By the way, what were you saying about the lord of this place—”

“Mother, stop.” Gwen’s hand clamped around her wrist, tight enough to hurt. “We should not—”

But the words hung in the air anyway, and Vivian saw something shift in Victor’s expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying them more carefully now. Really looking at them.

Viktor—because that’s who he really was, despite his playful deception—observed both women with a practiced eye. They were gorgeous. First time he’d actually seen elves in person, and damn if the stories didn’t do them justice.

Both had skin without a single blemish, smooth like porcelain that had never seen a crack. Hair that caught even the dim alley light and made it shimmer. Features so delicate they looked carved rather than born.

But unlike Elara, his succubus companion with her pornographic curves and body built for one purpose, these two had something different. Softer.

The kind of beauty that made you want to take your time, like savoring a meal instead of devouring it.

The mother especially—thick thighs pressed against the fabric of her worn dress, and breasts that strained the neckline with each breath she took. Heavy. Full. The kind that would bounce with the slightest movement.

Viktor felt his cock twitch, a pulse of blood rushing south despite himself. He pushed the thought away, jaw clenching. Not now. Not these two.

He turned, breaking eye contact. “You both should leave. Ktorian Knights are arriving today.”

Both women flinched.

The reaction was immediate, visceral. The daughter’s face went pale, hand tightening on her bow. The mother’s breath caught, eyes going wide. Even through whatever illusion magic they were using, he saw fear flash across their features.

Ktorian Knights. The dogs of the royal family. No—bulls was more accurate. Vicious, entitled bastards who wore the crown’s colors and acted like the world owed them whatever they wanted.

Vivian’s mind raced. Ktorian Knights. Here. She’d heard the name before, whispered among the higher elven tribes during their rare gatherings. The Eldoria Kingdom’s special forces, tasked with… what had the elder said? “Peacekeeping operations along the borders.” Flowery language for hunting down minorities. Beastkin villages burned. Refugees that never made it to safety.

The higher tribes—those with power, with strong warriors—they knew. They’d even tried negotiating with the border kingdoms, attempting to put pressure on Eldoria to stop. But capital politics was a snake pit, and the royal family had ways of making problems disappear. Just like they made people disappear.

She looked at Gwen, saw the same recognition in her daughter’s eyes. They’d heard the stories. The “bulls” who took what they wanted, when they wanted it. Young women from border villages who vanished. Bodies found weeks later, if they were found at all.

And they were elves, wearing flimsy illusion magic in enemy territory.

Viktor watched the understanding dawn on their faces, satisfaction curling in his chest. Good. Let them be scared. Let them run. He didn’t need complications, and two elven women with barely functional disguises definitely qualified as complications.

He started walking, boots splashing through a puddle. Time to leave before—

“Wait.”

The mother’s voice. Vivian had moved, stepping around her daughter who looked shocked at the interruption. “Are you not going to tell us about…”

Gwen grabbed her arm again. “Mother, what are you doing?”

But Viktor had already stopped, turning back with an expression that killed the question on Vivian’s lips. Not angry. Just… tired. Like he’d seen this scene play out a thousand times before.

“Why would I?” His voice carried none of the earlier playfulness. Flat. Matter-of-fact. “You both are just strangers to me. And who knows—from the dresses you wear, you both seem like some beggars, not from this place.”

Vivian looked down at herself instinctively. The threadbare dress, patched in three places. The dirt stains that wouldn’t wash out. Gwen’s clothing was no better, practical but worn from weeks of running.

Viktor’s eyes glinted purple in the shadows. “I personally wouldn’t want to become the center of attention of some knights due to two elves using illusion magic to hide their identity.”

Both women froze.

Gwen’s hand flew to her head, fingers brushing the space above her ears where the points should be. The glamour was still there—she could feel it, the slight tingle of magic against her scalp. Her hair too, dyed that muddy brown color instead of her natural silver-blonde. How the hell—

“Your ears,” Viktor said, like he could read her thoughts. “And the hair. Cute trick with the dye, but you missed a strand near your temple. Catches the light wrong. The glamour’s decent work, but you’re cycling too much mana through it. Makes the air shimmer if someone knows what to look for.”

Professional assessment. Clinical. The kind of observation that came from experience spotting hidden things.

Vivian felt her stomach drop. They’d been so careful. The glamour had taken Gwen three days to learn properly, and the hair dye had used up the last of their coin. And this man had seen through it in seconds?

Viktor turned again, done with the conversation. Time to actually leave before—

*Thwip.*

Instinct screamed. Viktor’s head snapped sideways, the arrow whistling past close enough to feel the fletching brush his ear. It slammed into the wooden wall behind him with a solid *thunk*, shaft still vibrating.

He looked at the arrow. Looked back at the women.

Gwen had her bow raised, string still quivering from the release. Her face was set, jaw clenched, eyes hard with determination that didn’t quite hide the fear underneath.

“Now that you know our identity,” she said, voice shaking slightly but words clear, “I cannot leave you alive.”

Silence.

Viktor stared at her. Blinked once. Twice.

Then he started laughing.

Not a chuckle. A full, genuine laugh that echoed off the alley walls. He bent forward slightly, hand pressing against his stomach, shoulders shaking. “Oh fuck,” he gasped between laughs. “Oh that’s—that’s perfect. That’s fucking *perfect*.”

Gwen’s expression flickered with confusion. Vivian looked between them, heart hammering.

“Do you…” Viktor straightened, wiping at his eyes where tears had formed from laughing so hard. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve read that exact scene? Like, word for word?” Another laugh bubbled up. “It’s one of the most garbage plot devices in any webnovel. Girl reveals identity by accident, immediately decides murder is the only solution. Classic.”

He shook his head, still grinning. “Except this time it’s happening to me. Un-fucking-believable.”

“Mother,” Gwen said, not taking her eyes off Viktor, another arrow already nocked. “Get behind me.”

“Gwen, wait—” Vivian reached for her daughter’s shoulder.

“He knows what we are!” Gwen’s voice cracked slightly. “If he talks, if he tells anyone, we’re dead! Do you understand? They’ll hunt us down like the traders did, like our own tribe tried to do!”

“Your daughter tried to kill me,” Viktor said, voice dropping back to that flat, dangerous tone. The amusement had vanished like smoke. “That’s a problem.”

“Please,” Vivian stepped forward, hands raised. “She’s just scared. We’ve been running for weeks, barely eating, barely sleeping. We’re not thinking clearly. Just let us—”

Viktor moved.

Ten feet. The distance between them collapsed in less than a blink. One moment he was standing near the wall, the next his hand was a blur arcing toward Gwen’s neck.

The chop landed perfectly, just below her ear where the nerve cluster sat. Precision strike.

Gwen’s eyes rolled back, bow tumbling from suddenly nerveless fingers. Her knees buckled, body going limp as unconsciousness took her before she could even process the pain.

Viktor’s arm moved, catching her before she hit the ground. His hand closed around soft flesh, fingers sinking deep into the heavy weight of her breast as he gripped her to support her weight. Full, firm, the kind of weight that filled his palm and then some. Her body was warm against his arm, completely limp, head lolling back.

He adjusted his grip, actually kneading the soft flesh through her dress as he shifted her position, treating her like game he’d just hunted and caught. One-armed hold, showing off strength that shouldn’t be possible for his lean frame.

“Your daughter tried to kill me,” Viktor said again, turning toward Vivian while holding Gwen’s unconscious body in that possessive, almost casual grip. His fingers were still buried in her breast, thumb brushing over where the nipple would be through the fabric. “As the law says, should I kill her?”

Vivian’s breath caught, eyes locked on her daughter’s limp form. “Please,” the word came out strangled. “Please don’t—she’s all I have left.”

Viktor tilted his head, studying the terror on Vivian’s face. Those wide eyes, the way her hands trembled, hovering in the air like she wanted to reach for Gwen but was too afraid to move. The mother’s chest heaved with panicked breaths, making her own generous curves strain against the worn fabric.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Just held Gwen’s unconscious body, fingers still groping her breast almost absently, like testing ripeness of fruit. The silence stretched, broken only by Vivian’s ragged breathing and the distant sounds of the town beyond the alley.

Then Viktor smiled. Not the playful one from before. Something sharper. More dangerous.

“Sigh, but I heard Elves are good at caretaking and nurturing?” Viktor said as he looked towards Vivian, who flinched while looking at her daughter, showing maternal warmth that endeared Viktor even more, but he simply wanted to make it entertaining, as today Ktorians would be coming, since Rusty had already pinpointed their location.

“Wh-what?”

“I have a few pregnant wives; can you nurse them until they give birth?”

“Sorry?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep