{Chapter: 209: Valeera And Sarah's Deal}
A Day Later
In the heart of Mi, a city drenched in power and indulgence, inside the grandest suite of its most prestigious hotel…
The moans of the late morning were broken by a rhythmic knock on the ornately carved double doors.
Inside the room, the thick velvet curtains were drawn halfway, allowing golden sunlight to spill gently across the room—illuminating scattered clothes, overturned wine glasses, and bedsheets tangled like vines after a storm.
Dex, sprawled lazily atop a mountain of silk pillows, stirred beneath the half-naked form of a voluptuous elf. His hand, still resting on the lush curve of her rear, gave it a slow, possessive squeeze, like he was claiming her all over again.
"Go answer it," he murmured, voice hoarse from the night's indulgence, soaked in lingering satisfaction.
The elf — Valeera — let out a throaty, feline purr. She stretched with languid elegance, her bare body arching beneath the morning light like a sculpture carved from seduction itself. Her very long, sun-kissed golden-blonde hair spilled in thick waves down to her waist, a shimmering cascade of silk that framed the full swell of her breasts and the sharp, elegant slope of her waist.
Her glowing green eyes flashed with playful fire as she glanced over her shoulder, lips curled into a sultry smirk. "Hmph… it's your fault I can barely walk. You broke me last night," she purred, voice low and teasing.
She rose from the bed slowly, her full hips swaying with maddening grace, her thick thighs trembling just slightly with each step. Her large, perky breasts jiggled freely with her movement, still marked faintly by the pressure of his mouth. Her pale golden-tinted skin reflected light around. Her narrow waist only made her generous ass stand out more, a perfect hourglass — carved for sin.
Shredded pieces of her armor were scattered across the room like the remains of a battle — and in a way, it had been one. Her crimson and black leather bodice, tough yet form-fitting, lay in torn pieces where she had flung it just before Dex had ripped the rest from her body. Her twin thigh-high boots still stood by the edge of the bed like silent sentinels, while her armored gloves were tossed over the back of a chair.
Valeera's smirk deepened as she caught sight of the mess, grabbing a towel — barely enough to cover her curves — and wrapping it around her hips with a sigh of exaggerated annoyance. "Next time, try not to destroy my favorite set. That armor's not easy to come by."
She stepped toward the door, her hips rolling, hair swaying with each teasing motion. Dex watched her go, eyes trailing every inch, already hard again just from the sight.
Moving with effortless seduction, she opened the door just a crack and leaned into the frame, her ample chest half-exposed, lips still swollen from hours of passionate cries.
On the other side stood a stunning woman in luxurious attire, flanked by a group of formal-looking guards.
Valeera's emerald eyes flicked across them dismissively before returning to the leading woman's face. Her tone was slow and taunting, sweetly venomous.
"Hmm? Can I help you?"
Though the woman at the door—Sarah—was undeniably beautiful and carried herself with nobility, Valeera didn't flinch or shrink back. She had lived for nearly a thousand years, her beauty refined by time, and her strength sharpened to the level of legends. Compared to her, even the most pampered noble girls were nothing more than spoiled kittens.
Valeera knew what she was worth. More importantly, she knew who was sleeping in her bed.
She had long grown used to seeing women attempt to approach Dex—some tearful and desperate, others scheming and bold. She'd watched jealous rivals throw themselves at him, only to be tossed aside with a chuckle. She had seen men, powerful ones at that, try to broker deals through her—offering gifts or alliances in hopes of getting closer to the mysterious man whose strength eclipsed anything they'd known.
She found it all amusing. Pitiful, even.
So when she looked at Sarah, she didn't see a threat.
Just another woman too late.
Crossing her arms beneath her chest to push up her cleavage, Valeera arched a brow and said again, slower this time, "Well? If you're not here to polish my toes or bring me wine, state your business."
'You arrogant little slut…'
Sarah grit her teeth inwardly. That smug, half-naked elf made her blood boil. The way she draped herself on the doorframe, practically glowing from hours of carnal bliss—it was infuriating.
Still, Sarah forced a polite smile, though her tone was clipped and cold. "We've come to speak with Lord Dex. Please inform him. It's a matter of some importance."
Valeera didn't immediately answer. Instead, she tilted her head, pretending to think, letting the silence draw out just long enough to be irritating. Then she turned slightly, her back to the door, giving Sarah a full view of her flawless backside as the towel clung teasingly to her hips.
With a sultry laugh, she called over her shoulder in a voice that oozed mischief:
"Mmm, darling handsome boy~ there's a new guest at the door… and she's quite the prim-and-proper type. You know the kind—tight smile, straighter posture than a blade. But I wonder... maybe under all that composure, she's hiding a deliciously wicked streak. Should we invite her to join us? Just like that wild one from two nights ago... gods, what a surprise she turned out to be."
After spending a few days together, she already knew Dex's age, so she used to address him this way in playful sultry times.
Sarah flinched slightly, her cheeks reddening despite herself.
Inside, Dex's voice drifted out like warm smoke—casual, effortless, and commanding. "Let them in."
That voice—it wasn't loud, yet the moment it reached their ears, Sarah and her guards felt something odd.
Their muscles loosened. Their breathing slowed. Their hearts fluttered. It was as if the voice bypassed logic entirely and spoke directly to their instincts, tugging at something primal and submissive within them.
Their eyes glazed for a brief second.
Just as Sarah's pupils began to dull, her arms suddenly flared with magic—a burst of radiant light that cracked like electricity. The mental haze shattered.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as she blinked rapidly. Gritting her teeth, she turned and began kicking her guards, one by one, snapping them out of the hypnotic daze.
Valeera chuckled behind the door, clearly enjoying the scene.
"You really should warn people," she said with a playful sigh. "Using that voice of yours so casually… someone might think you're trying to start a cult."
From inside the suite, Dex laughed—low and intimate, the sound curling around the room like heat from a slow-burning fire.
He ran a hand through his disheveled blood red hair, golden eyes glowing with lazy amusement. Turning toward Valeera, he said with a husky smirk, "Can you blame me? After the way you begged last night—'harder, deeper, ruin me'—I guess I lost track of how much power I was letting out."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the silk robe on his body falling just enough to reveal the deep lines of his sculpted chest.
"And let's be honest…" His voice dropped into a whisper, hot and indulgent. "I love it when you scream for more."
The elf's breath hitched slightly, her cheeks flushing as a devilish grin spread across her lips.
Dex's charisma was dangerous. Even restrained, it overflowed, bleeding into the room like a thick perfume. He wasn't just strong—he radiated power. And when he spoke without holding back, ordinary people weren't just charmed… they were enslaved by his very presence.
Thankfully for Mi Ling world, he had no interest in followers.
If Dex ever chose to become a god, he wouldn't need priests or temples—only his voice.
When Sarah and her entourage finally stepped into the room, the heavy aroma of sex and luxury assaulted their senses. Scents of lavender oil, crushed petals, sweat and love juices lingered in the air.
And there, sitting like a king in a lair of silks and shadows, was Dex.
Half-dressed. Barefoot. Reclining on the edge of a plush velvet sofa with the morning sun illuminating the sharp edges of his body.
And smiling at them as if he already knew their every secret.
---
At this very moment, even though Sarah loathed Dex's shamelessly flirtatious playboy lifestyle and was still fuming over the hypnotic trick he'd pulled—whether accidental or deliberate—she couldn't stop herself from acknowledging a certain truth:
Dex looked utterly divine.
He didn't need to speak. He didn't need to move. Just sitting there lazily on the luxurious velvet-lined couch, half-buttoned silk pajamas hanging off his shoulders, his presence alone created a gravity well around him—an irresistible pull, like a star drawing everything into orbit.
Those glowing golden eyes, slitted like a predator's, held unfathomable depths. They shimmered with wicked secrets, ancient amusement, and the dangerous promise of power used without mercy. A woman could lose herself in those eyes… and perhaps never come back the same.
His languid posture didn't disguise the sharpness of his body—he had the kind of musculature carved not through vanity, but through violence. Dangerous, indulgent, and dripping with dark appeal. He was a monster who knew it… and didn't give a damn.