Chapter 220: Chapter : 220 : Camouflage, Again!

Luna’s black wolf ears vanished, replaced by ordinary human ones that tucked neatly under her dark hair. Her fluffy tail dissolved into nothing, leaving only the crimson dress clinging to her newly human-looking legs.

Fangs retracted, claws smoothed into manicured nails.

Nayla’s sapphire skin faded to a rich, warm bronze. The golden lotus sigil on her navel disappeared beneath flawless human flesh.

Aethoniel’s delicate wings folded away into nothingness, her pointed ears rounded, skin tone shifting to soft ivory.

Arisha’s green skin turned pale, her goblin features softening into human—still strikingly beautiful, but undeniably human.

Lysandra’s already elegant features remained mostly unchanged, but any subtle draconic shimmer in her skin smoothed away. The change is in her skin color and her pointy ears.

Nivara’s purple skin paled to a creamy peach, horns retracted completely, leaving only her sharp and long black hair.

Xylendra’s horns and markings disappeared, her skin tone warming to a sun-kissed gold.

Valeforia’s horn retreated and her skin color turned human and her markings diasppeared.

Thristle’s hobgoblin sharpness rounded out—red skin fading to olive, features humanizing while still keeping her fierce attractiveness.

Venya’s dragon traits smoothed away—skin tone evening to warm beige, horns gone, wings and tails retreated, eaving her looking like an excited young noblewoman.

Selvara’s obsidian horns retracted, pale skin staying but her demonic markings fading to nothing, leaving her looking like a striking silver-haired beauty.

Nyxion’s dark skin remained, tail disappeared and the predatory edge in her posture softening just enough to pass as human.

They all looked… ordinary.

Gorgeous, yes—impossibly so—but ordinary.

No tails. No horns. No wings. No fangs. No glowing eyes or unnatural skin.

Just twelve breathtaking human women in expensive, daring dresses, sitting in a carriage with one very dangerous man.

Aiden exhaled.

“Better,” he muttered.

A beat of stunned silence followed.

Then—

Luna blinked.

Once.

Twice.

She lifted both hands, patting the sides of her head. “…Huh?”

She leaned forward, eyes crossing slightly as she tried to look where her ears should have been. Her hands moved lower, sweeping behind her hips.

“…Master,” she said slowly, disbelief creeping into her voice. “My tail is gone. Again.”

Aiden nodded. “Temporarily.”

Luna gasped. “It’s really gone.”

She twisted at the waist, nearly tumbling into Seraphina as she checked again. “I don’t feel it at all!”

Seraphina laughed softly. “You look cute without it too.”

“That’s not the point,” Luna protested, cheeks puffing. “It feels weird!”

Thristle snorted, flexing her fingers and then touching her face. “Tch. My fangs are gone too.”

She rolled her jaw a few times, then grinned sharply. “Huh. This is uncomfortable. I like looking dangerous.”

Nyxion lifted one brow, slowly running a hand down her side where her tail had been. Her fingers paused.

“…I don’t hate this,” she admitted. “But it’s unsettling.”

She glanced at Aiden. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He smirked. “A little.”

Nayla examined herself with open fascination, turning her wrist, then her shoulder, watching how the candlelight reflected off her now-human skin.

“Oh my,” she murmured. “How quaint.”

She pressed a palm to her stomach, then to her cheek. “No sigils. No glow. No pressure.”

She smiled at Aiden. “You’ve made me… subtle.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Selvara muttered.

Selvara herself looked down at her hands, flexing them slowly. The faint markings she was so accustomed to were gone, leaving smooth, pale skin.

“…Hmph,” she said. “This will make infiltration easier.”

Venya bounced slightly in her seat, nearly vibrating. “Venya looks like a normal person!”

She leaned toward Vaara, eyes wide. “Do I look normal?”

Vaara nodded quickly. “Yes! Very normal. Very—very pretty.”

Venya beamed. “Yay!”

Aethoniel sat very still.

Too still.

Her hands hovered just above her back, trembling slightly, as if she expected her wings to be there and wasn’t quite ready to accept they weren’t.

“…They’re gone,” she whispered.

Aiden turned toward her immediately. “Temporary,” he repeated gently. “You’ll get them back when we leave.”

She nodded, swallowing. “I-I know. It’s just… quiet.”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re doing fine.”

Arisha glanced down at her arms, then at her reflection in the polished brass trim of the carriage window.

“…I look different,” she said softly.

Lysandra leaned closer, studying her. “You look elegant.”

Arisha blinked. “I do?”

“Yes,” Lysandra said without hesitation. “Very.”

Arisha’s flushed. “…Thank you.”

Xylendra brushed her fingers along her head, where her horns had been. “This is strange.”

Valeforia nodded in agreement. “But effective.”

Nivara tilted her head, running her fingers through her hair. “No horns. No markings.”

She glanced at Seraphina. “Princess, do I still look intimidating?”

Seraphina smiled. “You look mysterious.”

Nivara flushed faintly. “I’ll take that.”

Her new dress was a masterpiece of restrained seduction: deep amethyst silk that clung to her newly human-toned skin like a second layer, the high collar rising regally around her throat while the bodice plunged into a daring keyhole cutout at the center—framing the generous inner curves of her full breasts without quite revealing them.

The fabric was so smooth and fitted that every breath caused a subtle shift and gentle quiver across her chest, the soft weight of her breasts pressing upward against the delicate amethyst material, nipples faintly outlined when she moved just right.

Gold embroidery traced elegant, swirling patterns along the neckline and down the sides, drawing the eye to her narrow waist before the dress flared into a long, flowing skirt with thigh-high slits on both sides—revealing long, toned legs with every subtle shift of her crossed thighs.

The carriage rolled to a near stop.

Outside, muffled voices, the clink of metal, the hum of a crowd—filtered through the walls.

Then he reached into the small velvet pouch at his belt and pulled out the masks—colorful, ornate, each one covering the upper half of the face.

They were beautiful in a sinister way:

Luna’s was crimson with black lace trim and silver filigree, cat-eye shaped.

Seraphina’s pale silver with sapphire accents, delicate and regal.

Nyxion’s deep burgundy with gold inlay, sharp and predatory even in human form.

Thristle’s emerald green with black thorns.

Selvara’s midnight black with violet runes.

Arisha’s forest green with gold leaves.

Lysandra’s deep crimson with subtle dragon-scale texture.

Nivara’s amethyst with silver horns etched along the brow.

Xylendra’s sapphire blue with silver fox-tail motifs.

Valeforia’s violet with pearl inlay.

Venya’s shimmering gold with ruby accents.

Aethoniel’s pale green with silver vine patterns.

Serica’s Deep midnight blue-black with subtle iridescent green-black sheen.

Vaara’s Rich blood-red velvet with matte black undertones.

Aiden handed them out one by one.

“Upper face only,” he reminded them. “No one sees your full expressions. That’s the point.”

Luna took hers eagerly, pressing it to her face—now human—and tying the black silk ribbons behind her head.

The crimson mask framed her newly features perfectly.

Seraphina tied hers on with practiced grace, the silver mask accentuating her soft features and making her look like a mysterious noblewoman.

Nyxion slipped hers on slowly—smirking beneath it—burgundy mask turning her into something almost vampiric.

One by one, they donned the masks.

When they were done, the carriage felt different.

Dangerous.

Seductive.

Anonymous.

Aiden tied on his own—matte black with silver edging, simple but menacing.

He looked around at them—all masked, all stunning, all his.

“Remember,” he said quietly. “We’re just another group of wealthy degenerates looking for rare goods. No powers. No fighting unless I say so. No one dies unless they deserve it.”

Luna’s masked face tilted toward him, voice playful beneath the crimson.

“And if someone tries to touch what’s yours, Master?”

Aiden’s smile was hidden, but they all felt it.

“Then we remind them why masks are a good idea.”

The carriage rolled to a stop.

Zerra’s voice filtered through the door—calm, human-sounding.

“We’re here.”

Aiden stood first, offering his hands to Luna and Seraphina.

They took them.

The rest followed.

Luna leaned into his arm again instinctively. “Yes, Master.”

Thristle cracked her neck. “Let’s see what kind of trouble this place sells.”

Nyxion smirked. “I already like it.”

Nayla’s lips curved in anticipation. “Same.”

Aiden glanced around at all of them—human, hidden, dangerous.

“Welcome to the east,” he said calmly.

The carriage door creaked open.

And the night rushed in.

Zerra was already there when they stepped down from the carriage.

She stood just beyond the door, half-turned toward the empty street, posture loose but alert—exactly like someone who belonged to the shadows of the eastern district. The mask hid the upper half of her face, matte black with jagged bronze accents, shaped to look more like a predator’s snout than a noble’s ornament. It left her mouth visible, lips curved in a knowing smirk.

Her outfit was practical—but deliberately styled to pass as a daring rogue’s fashion rather than armor.

A cropped white blouse clung to her torso, the fabric pulled taut across her chest and tied at the center just beneath it, exposing a toned midriff that gleamed faintly under the lantern light. Brown leather suspenders ran over her shoulders and down her sides, buckled snugly to a fitted skirt that hugged her hips before ending high enough to show strong thighs.

A wide leather belt cinched her waist, reinforced with small metal rings and pouches—nothing that screamed weapon, but everything that suggested preparedness.

Knee-high brown boots laced tightly up the sides completed the look, worn and scuffed just enough to look authentic.

No goblin ears. No green skin.

Just a sharp-looking human woman who looked like she knew how to survive bad streets.

She looked out of place in her attire.

The mask she is wearing is: Glossy jet black with molten orange-red and gold gradient streaks running through it.

Zerra glanced over her shoulder as they approached, then straightened and gave Aiden a short nod. “You took your time.”

Aiden snorted. “You know how it is. Getting everyone dressed is a battle on its own.”

Luna leaned in close to him, mask brushing his shoulder. “We were ready fast.”

Nyxion’s voice followed, amused. “You were ready first.”

Zerra’s smirk widened as her eyes flicked across the group—counting, assessing, approving. “Lead the way, Hero.”

Aiden scanned the road.

The eastern district was quiet in the way dangerous places often were—too quiet. Shops shuttered, lanterns dimmed behind smoked glass, alleyways yawning open like waiting mouths. No crowds. No music. Just distant murmurs and the occasional echo of boots far away.

“Empty,” Venya whispered. “Venya doesn’t like empty.”

“That’s because it means people are watching,” Selvara replied flatly.

Aiden raised one hand slightly. “Stay close.”

They moved.

Boots and heels whispered over stone as the group flowed forward. To anyone watching, they would look like wealthy thrill-seekers—exactly the kind of people the eastern auction catered to.

Thristle leaned in toward Aiden as they walked. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

He didn’t look at her. “I know who knows.”

“That’s not an answer,” Lysandra said lightly.

“It’s the right one,” Serica added.

They turned sharply into a narrow alley between two leaning buildings. The smell changed immediately—oil, damp stone, old incense, and something faintly metallic. Lanterns hung low here, their light yellow and uneven.

A hooded man stood halfway down the alley, back against the wall, arms crossed.

He didn’t look surprised to see them.

Aiden stepped forward alone.

Luna’s fingers tightened around his arm. “Master—”

“I’ll be right here,” he murmured. “Eyes open.”

He approached the man calmly, stopping close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. From the outside, it looked like a brief greeting between acquaintances.

Aiden leaned in.

His words were too quiet for anyone else to hear.

The hooded man stiffened.

Just slightly.

Then he turned his head enough to glance at Aiden’s mask, eyes narrowing in recognition.

A pause.

Then the man uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall. “Follow. No mistakes. No noise.”

He moved deeper into the alley, turning through a narrow side passage that shouldn’t have been there.

Luna leaned in again. “Master… I don’t like him.”

Nyxion’s voice was smooth, confident. “That went very smoothly.”

Nayla hummed thoughtfully. “His charm works on everyone.”

They followed.

The passage opened into a hidden courtyard—wide, circular, surrounded by crumbling walls etched with old symbols that had been scratched over again and again.

At its center stood a reinforced door of dark iron, guarded by two figures in heavy cloaks.

The hooded man raised a hand.

One of the guards stepped forward, eyes sweeping the group. “Show.”

Aiden lifted his chin. “Membership?”

Aiden produced a small sigil from his sleeve—black metal stamped with an unfamiliar crest—and pressed it into the guard’s palm.

The guard inspected it, then nodded once and stepped aside.

The door creaked open.

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END OF Chapter : 220 : CAMOUFLAGE, AGAIN!

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