inspire-indiana Chapter 217 Your Majesty, You Were Right
Chapter 217 Your Majesty, You Were Right
Chapter 217 Your Majesty, You Were Right
"Hiss, ah~"
Xi Ruien rubbed his head and sat up in bed. The soreness in his body and the intermittent images flashing through his mind gradually brought him back to his senses.
I think I was drunk last night?
As he pondered, a slender white hand encircled his waist, pulling him into the bed. Then, a warm, soft, and supple body entwined around him. Xireen suddenly stiffened, a series of images flashing through his mind:
There are scenes of him embracing Clarisse as they return home, and scenes of the two of them collapsing onto the bed, their clothes gradually being removed...
He could even clearly recall the slight tremor he felt when he reached out and stroked the other's body, the warmth of his fingertips, and the delicate feel of the touch. "I..."
Before he could utter a word, another mouth silenced him, and then his body, more honest than his mind, embraced and kissed the other.
Sunlight streamed into the room from the window, falling on Sirion's face and dispelling his last bit of sleepiness.
Clarice, with her long, glossy black hair casually draped over her shoulders, leaned against the window, admiring the rare sunny day in Backlund.
Noticing Cyril's gaze, she turned around and chuckled softly:
"Little guy, you did a great job last night. You were much braver than the last time we met."
"Young and passionate love should be bold and unrestrained; do what you want."
Is the phrase "do whatever you want" a verb?
He muttered something to himself, then asked curiously:
"Aren't you worried about being discovered by that magical artifact of the Steam Church?"
Clarice smiled smugly: "The 'Original' has given me protection. As long as I don't do anything conspicuous, neither the Steam Church nor the Church of 'Night' and 'Storm' will be able to find me."
She paused, then asked casually:
Have you discovered a white statue in the mirror world nearby?
"An idol?" Sirion pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
"No, although things from reality occasionally appear in the mirror world nearby, I have never seen an object as big as a statue."
Clarice shook her head slightly: "The statue wasn't big, only about the size of a palm. It was made entirely of white jade and depicted a very beautiful naked woman."
"If you see it, remember to stay away and tell me immediately."
"Okay." Sirien nodded seriously.
Clarice didn't dwell on the topic. She walked briskly to Cyril and placed a crystal-clear, rectangular amulet, as if forged from ice, on his bare chest.
"This is the Ice Amulet. It needs to be used in conjunction with the Mirror World. You can use it to send me messages or travel through the Mirror World."
"The former cannot exceed the coverage area of a large city, while the latter, although not of much use to you, carries my aura and can help you avoid most of the dangers in the mirror world."
"It can only be used once, so if you miss me, it's better to come see me in person."
As she spoke, her hand slid down along Cyril's chest and into the blankets.
Cyril stiffened for a moment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and enjoyment.
Just as he felt his desire being aroused again, Clarice suddenly pulled her hand away.
"It's a pity that I have to go find a stubborn old man today to continue the handover we didn't finish last time, so I can't continue to enjoy the sunshine of Backlund with you."
After saying that, she reluctantly walked to the full-length mirror in the corner, her figure quietly blending into it.
After watching Clarice leave, Cyril pulled the blanket over his face.
Holy crap! I've followed in the footsteps of Emperor Roselle!
But...it feels so good, I think I'm getting a little addicted.
No, she's a witch. She used to be a man like me.
But she is already a Sequence 3 witch, she has reconciled with her reflection in the mirror, and no longer possesses any masculine traits.
But what if she had chosen to enslave and seduce her reflection in the mirror?
As the image flashed through Sirion's mind, two tiny figures, one black and one white, were fighting and tearing at each other's wings, swirling around in his head and turning his thoughts into a jumbled mess.
A dozen minutes later, a thick gray fog suddenly appeared in his field of vision.
Then Klein's voice echoed in his ears: "This shouldn't bother you at this time, right?"
With a stiff face, Sirion replied, "No."
Klein: "That's good."
"The magical items from Mr. Hanged Man, the 'Spirit World Chronicles' paid for by Ms. Magician, and the two extraordinary items you purchased from me—when do you plan to collect them?"
"And also, can't those two extraordinary items really be priced higher? 1600 pounds isn't even enough for you to have dinner like last night a few more times."
Cyril: "Let's do it around noon. Also, there's no going back on your bid."
"If you had drunk the Assassin's Potion, I would still hesitate even if it were £16000, let alone £1600."
...Thanks for the invitation, but I refuse the "Assassin" potion.
Muttering to himself, Klein suddenly remembered a page from Russell's diary he had read before and joked:
"It seems you've already experienced the pleasures of Emperor Roselle, how was the taste, 'Witch'?"
Cyril looked up at the figure high above the gray mist and sighed:
"Before I learned about him, I thought Rosell the Great's happiness was empty, but after learning about him, I realized I was being simplistic. Rosell the Great was genuinely happy!"
Klein's lips twitched slightly above the gray fog; he realized he had overestimated the other's sense of shame.
After leaving behind the words "You have fallen," he left the gray fog.
...
After lying in bed until noon, Xi Ruien finally got up, rubbing her still sore lower back.
After taking a shower and changing her clothes, Xireen looked at her refreshed self in the mirror and rubbed her cheeks.
"Your Majesty, I've discovered you were right."
"Furthermore, the 'Apprentice' path provides too little physical enhancement. The last time I improved my physical abilities was during the 'Magic Master' stage, and I almost ended up needing to lean on the wall to walk."
Back in the bedroom, he found the screaming painting at the very bottom of a pile of clothes scattered on the floor.
The distorted figure in the painting was curled up with its back to him, seemingly trapped in a deep state of self-isolation.
After gazing at it for half a second, Sirion reached out and patted the scroll twice.
The distorted figure, who had been curled up in a ball with its back to him, finally emerged from its self-isolation and returned to normal on the painting, though its distorted face looked utterly dejected no matter how you looked at it.
"Hmm~~"
"My great master, I think I'm sick."
"Achoo!"
As they were talking, the distorted figure in the painting started to sneeze.
Sirion frowned as he looked at it. This thing was not only a creature in the painting, but also a magical object. Even if it was sick, it should be a disease unique to creatures in paintings.
Soon, a figure appeared in his mind: "The Ageless Witch" Clarice.
He paused, then asked in a deep voice:
"What do you want to do before you get sick?"
The distorted figure in the painting held its head in its hands, pondered for a long time, and then said:
"Great master, I... I wanted to warn you to be careful of that woman's allure."
"But after I got sick, my head was foggy and I forgot about it."
"I'm sorry, Master, I failed in my duty."
"Charm..." Cyril frowned, then offered words of comfort:
"It's alright, she meant no harm, otherwise I would have noticed the problem without you reminding me."
...She's just lusting after my body, and probably also wants to use me to digest some "ageless" potion.
After casually hanging the scroll on the wall and tidying up the room briefly, he didn't rush to find materials to set up the ritual for requesting blessings. Instead, he directly began chanting the name of "The Fool":
"A fool who does not belong to this era, a mysterious ruler above the gray fog, the king of yellow and black who holds the reins of good fortune."
Soon, a thick gray fog spread before his eyes, and Klein, the "Fool" seated atop it, lowered his gaze, his voice echoing leisurely in his ears:
"What's wrong now?"
Cyril raised his head and said calmly:
"Take me to the top of the gray fog to disinfect my spiritual body. It might be a bit slow if I do it myself."
Klein:
After a moment of silence, he still pulled Sirion onto the gray fog.
The moment he appeared in his assigned seat, Cyril suddenly felt a sense of relief, as if he had been freed from a heavy shackle.
He closed his eyes and quickly reviewed his own condition in a meditative manner.
After confirming that there were no problems, he opened his eyes and recalled Clarice's image in his mind.
It was noticeably different from before. Although he was still amazed by her beauty, he no longer felt that familiarity, intimacy, or infatuation.
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