Chapter 591: The Girl's Temptation
South of the Radiant Mountains lies the capital of the Kingdom of Thrace, the so-called "City of Sunrise"—Augustin.
Even though the war with the Kingdom of Kassander continued, and the southern borders of Thrace had become scorched earth with displaced people and broken families—
—Augustin, as the royal capital, seemed entirely unaffected, remaining as prosperous and decadent as ever.
Especially in the Upper District where the Thraycian nobility resided: carefully manicured lawns, lifelike sculptures, elegant Thraycian spires, and colorful stained-glass windows—
Compared to the ravaged south, this could indeed be called a paradise.
Sunlight spilled onto the cobbled roads, the fragrance of flowers lingered in the gardens, and opulent carriages passed by fountains, with elegance and extravagance on display everywhere.
The luxurious mansion of the Foster Family was located in the southeastern corner of the Upper District, known as the "Tulip Residence" due to its lavish gardens.
Count Donald Foster was steward to the Third Prince, responsible for amassing wealth for the royal family. Though his title was not of the highest rank, he held a special status and knew many secrets.
"Did you hear? Lord Donald brought back another beauty." In the tulip garden, the gardeners whispered while trimming the hedges.
"I personally watched that young and beautiful lady go inside," said the younger gardener with exaggerated expressions. "That face, that figure—tsk tsk, like a tender flower bud no one could bear to pluck."
The older gardener only sighed. "Indeed. One can only envy such men. To marry a beauty like that would be worth a lifetime."
"Forget marrying—I'd be content just to touch her once. Too bad she's destined to be Lord Donald's mistress," the younger gardener lamented.
The lady looked very young, and to submit herself to a man over fifty, infamous for his greed and lust, was indeed a shame.
"But if Madam finds out—"
"So what? From what I know, Lord Donald has more than just one mistress. Rumor has it he has over thirty illegitimate children and still lives freely."
"Ah, the life of the nobility."
At that moment, a woman's coy teasing and a string of silvery laughter echoed from the mansion. "Ah, my lord, not so fast—we have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves."
The gardeners held their breath, their imaginations running wild.
But they dared not peek into the earl's private affairs, only pretending to prune hedges while eavesdropping intently.
Inside the spacious bedroom, a woman who appeared to be in her twenties lounged on the bed, long black hair spread over the sheets.
Her figure was shapely and alluring, wrapped in sheer gauze that accentuated her graceful curves. Her chest exposed a vast expanse of snow-white skin.
"My lord, please don't rush... I... I'm still a bit nervous. Could you bring me some wine?" The woman's eyes drooped, her fair face flushed like a ripe apple.
"Yes, yes, of course! Miss Leia, wait here like a good girl. I'll be right back." Count Donald was overcome with desire, eyes fixed hungrily on Leia.
"Yes, my lord. Where could I possibly run to?" The woman wore a seductive smile.
Turning away to fetch the wine, the count was eager to drink and indulge with this "Miss Leia."
Count Donald appeared over fifty, fat and jowly, but dressed extravagantly. Three solid gold teeth glinted in his mouth.
Humming a tune, his cheeks were flushed with excitement. The thought of the pleasures to come made him tremble.
"Miss Leia" was a noblewoman he met at a banquet—supposedly from a foreign land, a refugee in Augustin, now only eighteen, at her most enchanting age.
Not only was she beautiful, but her unusual attire—known as "stockings"—drove the count into a frenzy.
Desire burned uncontrollably in his heart.
So, at Leia's request, Count Donald went into his wine cellar to carefully choose a fine bottle.
Once he left the bedroom, "Miss Leia" immediately began to gag, her face darkening. "That fat pig almost made me throw up."
A familiar voice came from the earring: "President, endure it—our plan is almost complete!"
"We will remember your sacrifice, President..."
"By the way, you actually look great in drag. That's Tifa's face model, right? Let the brothers enjoy it again sometime?"
"Piss off." Leia muttered irritably, lying back on the bed.
"I hear footsteps. Target is returning to the room!"
"Team A, activate spell warding, soundproofing, and anti-scrying.
Team B, be ready to counter any danger and protect the President at all costs!"
Leia immediately resumed her coy demeanor, propping herself up with slender arms and gazing toward the door.
"Miss Leia, I'm back." Count Donald pushed open the door, panting, clutching a finely packaged red wine. His flab jiggled with every step.
Leia twirled her hair with a finger, giving him a sultry gaze. "My lord... you're back."
Under the count's lustful eyes, Leia lazily rose, picked up the bottle, and poured the wine into a crystal glass.
But the count didn't notice the white powder slipping from Leia's slender fingers into the glass, dissolving instantly.
Perfect!
Leia was delighted inwardly but didn't realize Donald had already grabbed her wrist, trying to push her onto the bed.
Donald inhaled her scent, stroking her smooth skin and dark hair as if caressing a treasure.
"Miss Leia, my little canary... your beauty moves me. Your hair is like silk, your skin like the finest satin..."
He whispered what he believed to be romantic lines, leaning his bloated, ugly face close—reeking of cologne and body odor.
Leia's skin crawled, forcing an unnatural smile while pushing the count away.
"My lord, wait..."
"What are you waiting for, Miss Leia? My patience is limited—"
Impatience appeared on the count's face. Lust had overtaken him; he couldn't wait another moment.
Why was this foreign woman so troublesome?
But that mystery only made her more alluring to him.
Did he notice she was stalling? Leia worried silently and quickly donned a coy expression, grabbing his arm and pouting: "My lord, that's not what I meant..."
"Then what did you mean?"
Leia hesitated, then whispered, "In my homeland, lovers must drink first... before enjoying each other."
Donald's expression softened. "Alright, whatever my canary says, I will do!"
Patting his swollen belly, he confidently prepared to drink—but Leia held the glass to his lips instead.
"Come, my lord. Let me feed you."
Donald melted, nodding vigorously as Leia poured the wine down his throat.
He drained the glass, wiped his lips, and slurred: "Excellent... now we can begin, right?"
"Leia... I'm coming..."
He staggered toward the bed, but his vision blurred.
Reaching for Leia's body, he could barely see her face.
Was this wine that strong?
That was Count Donald's final thought.
Then, with a soft "thud," he collapsed onto the velvet bed like a dead pig, landing just inches from Leia's body.
"Leia... Leia..."
Even in sleep, he murmured her name.
What he drank was a special draught called "Ecstatic Dream," which induced sleep and vivid hallucinations.
Leia finally let out a breath. "Damn, that was close."
She even kicked him in the face. Seeing no reaction, she relaxed, collapsing on the bed.
"This fat pig dared to make a move on me?"
That sweet and feminine voice suddenly dropped, becoming distinctly masculine.
Then came something even more disturbing: with a squelch, Leia's flawless skin began peeling like a snake shedding, and the delicate face melted.
In the end, a handsome blond man in robes lay on the bed, beside a folded, transparent robe—[Mimicry Morph Robe].
Indeed, the "Miss Leia" who resembled Tifa was none other than the president of Magic Coin Guild, Archmage Charlotte!
The whole story of a foreign noblewoman named Leia was a trap set by Magic Coin's players, exploiting Donald's lecherous reputation.
"Good thing this fat pig had a taste for romance—or I'd be the second guy in Alexia's gaming history to get pegged."
"If anyone finds out, how could I, a noble guild master, live with myself?!"
"Leia... Leia..." Donald moaned, likely reaching some unspeakable climax in his dream.
Hearing this, Charlotte shuddered with disgust and kicked him several times, cursing.
"You damn pig, I'll show you ecstasy! \\\\\\!"
A stream of expletives flowed freely—even the normally refined Charlotte lost control.
Unbeknownst to him, loyal guildmates had recorded everything with a memory stone, hoping to make it a legendary moment.
Charlotte removed the earring, annoyed. "Alright, come out. He's out cold."
At once, Magic Coin players revealed themselves—emerging from flower beds, curtains, and even chandeliers.
Vice President Moonlight clapped, suppressing laughter. "Brilliant, President. You got Thrace's earl just like that."
Charlotte shot him a glare. "Enough. Search his body and grab the key. I'm done with this dump."
OnlyLoveMage picked up the [Mimicry Morph Robe], asking, "Didn't we have a real witch? Why did you have to go, President? Got a thing for this, maybe?"
Charlotte barked, "Scram. Have you seen her? One Lightning Bolt before the bait is set, and it's over."
"Hehe, no way would President let me do something like that."
Witch on Broom shrugged and stuck out her tongue playfully. "Not my thing."
Charlotte pointed at the sleeping count. "Only a man knows what another man truly wants!"
OnlyLoveMage was speechless, awed by the president's madness.
At that moment, EuroLuck hugged Charlotte's leg, grinning. "President, let us see your girl form again!"
"Get lost!"
Charlotte kicked him, adding a force field to the blow.
"BANG!"
EuroLuck flew ten meters, crashing into a wardrobe.
Moonlight paled. "Stop! That was too loud—our noise-warding spells might not hold!"
"Ow—"
EuroLuck crawled out, clutching his dented chest and coughing blood. "President... you almost killed me!"
Charlotte groaned. "I sacrificed so much, and this is how you repay me?!"
Witch on Broom chuckled, trying to defuse the tension. "Alright, let's pack up the loot and info. We can't linger."
"Yeah. Forget this clown."
"Jackpot!"
"Damn, Thrace's earl is loaded! He's got legendary jewelry!"
Magic Coin players swept the room like locusts, looting everything.
Gold, jewels, fine furniture—nothing escaped their greedy hands. Only players truly understood the joy of looting.
As punishment, EuroLuck had to search Donald's body for the secret chamber key.
"Leia... Leia..."
In his dream, the count moaned passionately, drenched in sweat, clothes soaked.
EuroLuck pinched his nose, digging through the drunken, sweaty, foul-smelling garments.
He gritted his teeth. "This is revenge, I swear!"
"My lord—"
A girl's moan drifted from the bedroom, but no erotic scene awaited—just a pre-recorded clip by the Magic Coin players.
In the garden, the gardeners sighed. "Whew, Lord Donald plays hard."
A guard asked quietly, "Should we check inside?"
"SMACK!"
The captain slapped him. "Mark, are you trying to die? Lord Donald said no matter what noise comes out, we don't go in! Even if someone dies, we wait for his command!"
The guard nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. I'll stay put. Wouldn't dare ruin Lord Donald's fun!"
"Good. See you remember that."
The guards stood dutifully, imagining what was happening inside.
Unaware that inside, the earl lay naked—hanging from the ceiling.
It was a horrifying sight: the thick rope strained under his weight.
Across his fat, bare back, a message was scrawled: "Mage was here."