The spires of Silverport rose against the late-afternoon sky like jagged teeth, glinting in the sun. From the hilltop overlook, the city sprawled in magnificent chaos—white-stone walls three stories high, dotted with watchtowers—a bustling harbor to the south where tall ships rocked at anchor and districts radiating outward like ripples—merchant quarters with colorful awnings, noble estates on elevated terraces, and the ever-present adventurer's district marked by the massive guild hall dome.
Eron reined in the horse, letting Mira and Sylva take in the sight. Both women pressed tighter against him, awed. Mira had never left Oakridge in her life. Sylva had only visited once as a child.
"It's… enormous," Sylva whispered, her raven hair whipping in the breeze.
Eron's hand slid possessively over her bare thigh under the cloak—neither woman wore anything beneath their dresses now, per his command. "And soon, parts of it will belong to us."
The road grew crowded as they descended— merchant caravans, adventurers in gleaming armor, farmers with produce carts, even a chained line of new slaves escorted by grim-faced handlers. The sights stirred Eron's blood—opportunities everywhere.
At the massive eastern gate, guards in silver-trimmed tabards checked papers and collected tolls. Eron dismounted, helping his women down. Mira and Sylva flanked him like devoted consorts, heads high despite their secret lack of undergarments.
A bored sergeant waved them forward. "Purpose in Silverport?"
"New adventurers," Eron said smoothly, flashing a confident smile. "Here to register at the guild and seek fortune."
The man eyed the two stunning women, lingering on their curves. "Lucky bastard. Toll's five silvers for three."
Eron paid without haggling—loot from Grom's house covered it easily. As they passed through the archway, the city's energy hit like a wave— shouts of vendors, clang of blacksmith hammers, laughter from taverns, the distant roar of a crowd at some arena.
First priority, secure lodging and register at the guild. Eron led them toward the central district, following signs for the Adventurer's Guild. Streets teemed with diversity—humans dominant, but elves with pointed ears bartering jewels, burly dwarves hauling ore, even a few beastkin with tails or ears drawing stares.
They found a reputable inn near the guild—The Gilded Griffin, three stories of polished wood and hanging flower baskets. The common room buzzed with drinkers and off-duty adventurers. The innkeeper, a plump woman named Greta with sharp eyes, quoted rates.
"Best room on the top floor—private bath, big bed, ten silvers a night."
Eron negotiated down to eight with Charm and a subtle whisper, then paid for a week upfront. Greta's gaze softened appreciatively as she handed the key. "Holler if you need anything… extra."
Upstairs, the room was luxurious by this world's standards—a massive four-poster bed that could easily fit five, a copper tub behind a screen, wide windows overlooking the city. The moment the door closed, clothes hit the floor.
Eron claimed them against the window first—Sylva bent over the sill, dress hiked up, as he fucked her from behind while the street bustled unaware below. Mira knelt beneath, licking his shaft and Sylva's clit with every thrust until both women came hard, Sylva's juices dripping down Mira's chin.
Then on the bed, Mira riding his face while Sylva bounced on his cock, their tits pressed together as they kissed sloppily above him. The Dual Cultivation skill amplified everything—essence flowed in waves, pushing Eron to Level 9 and unlocking a new passive:
[Pheromone Emission (Low) – Males in vicinity feel subtle intimidation; females experience increased attraction and wetness.]
By the time they finished, all three glistened with sweat and satisfaction, the room thick with the scent of mating.
Cleaned and redressed—Mira in a practical green dress that hugged her MILF curves, Sylva in a borrowed blue one that accentuated her youthful perfection—they headed to the Adventurer's Guild just before closing.
The guild hall was a fortress of marble and steel banners. Inside, hundreds of adventurers milled— posting quests, drinking at bars, sparring in side arenas. A massive board listed requests—goblin extermination, herb gathering, escort missions, even high-rank dragon hunts.
They joined the registration queue. The clerk, a stern half-elf woman with glasses, processed newcomers efficiently.
"Name?" she asked Eron.
"Eron Vale. Party of three."
She raised an eyebrow at the two beauties. "Classes?"
"Close-combat specialist," Eron lied smoothly—he'd figure magic later. "Mira—support healer. Sylva—archer scout."
Standard beginner roles. The clerk pricked their fingers for a drop of blood on crystal orbs, registering mana signatures.
"Rank F to start. Complete five F-rank quests or one E-rank to advance. No killing fellow adventurers in city limits. Break rules, get blacklisted."
She handed bronze tags and a starter guide. "Welcome to the madness."
As they turned to leave, a commotion drew eyes to the main board. A new quest had just been posted on thick parchment with a noble seal:
[URGENT – Escort Mission]
[Client: Lady Isabella Veyron, wife of Count Veyron
Details: Escort Lady Isabella's personal carriage to the resort town of Azure Springs. Bandit activity reported on route.
Rank Requirement: E or higher party preferred, but exceptional F-ranks considered.
Reward: 50 gold, plus favor of House Veyron.
Special Note: Female adventurers especially encouraged for comfort.]
A portrait miniature was pinned beside the description—Lady Isabella, late twenties or early thirties, with golden blonde hair, sapphire eyes, porcelain skin, and a figure that even the modest portrait gown couldn't hide— overflowing cleavage, tiny corseted waist, hips made for bearing heirs.
The crowd murmured. "Count Veyron's wife? She's famous—most beautiful woman in the province."
"And untouchable. They say the Count's paranoid jealous."
Eron's system lit up like fireworks:
[Elite Target Detected: Isabella Veyron]
Age: 31
Status: Married (Arranged, Loveless)
Loyalty to Husband: 20%
Libido: Extremely High (Severely Suppressed)
Seduction Potential: God-tier
Conquest Rewards Projected: Massive Essence, Noble Influence, Potential Territory Gain]
Mira and Sylva noticed his predatory grin.
"My lord?" Sylva asked softly. "That quest?"
Eron nodded slowly. "We're taking it. But not as escorts."
Mira's eyes gleamed with understanding. "As conquerors."
They approached the posting clerk—a different one handling high-profile jobs. "We'd like to apply for the Lady Veyron escort."
The man laughed. "You? Fresh F-ranks? She wants experienced parties."
Eron leaned in, activating every charm skill. "Tell her personal representative that Eron Vale guarantees her… complete satisfaction and safety. Mention I travel with two female companions who can attend her every need."
The clerk blinked, swayed. "I'll… pass it along."
As they left the guild into the twilight streets, Eron allocated his latest stat points—pumping Charm and Libido higher—and checked the updated system:
[Level: 9
Stats: Strength 18 | Agility 20 | Mana 12 | Charm 45 | Libido 80
Skills: Seduction Whisper, Essence Drain, Dual Cultivation, Arousal Aura (Low), Pheromone Emission (Low)
Harem: 2 powerful, devoted members]
Tomorrow, they would meet Lady Isabella.
And Silverport's true conquest would begin.