Chapter 160: Mirielle
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In the large bedroom of the manor, the lights had been dimmed to half. Mirielle sat leaning against the body pillow printed with Erik’s image, the silk blanket pulled only up to her hips.
On the bed, several portraits of him were carefully arranged around her: one sharp front view, one side view, one of him holding a spear, and a close-up of the eyes she loved most.
She wore only a thin robe. Her two large nipples had already stiffened, standing high like two peach blossoms just blooming in the early mist, the tips of the nipples full and glistening under the warm light.
Her full body swayed lightly with each breath, her slender waist curving in, the lower abdomen rising and falling slightly. The scent of desire rising from between her thighs was thick and sweet like honey mixed with the sandalwood fragrance in the room, spreading until she herself had to blush because of it.
Mirielle held Erik’s photo close to her face. Her right fingers had already slipped down long ago, slowly rubbing evenly around the soft, wet flesh.
The tip of her finger glided over the two half-closed flower petals, lightly touching the small swollen bean, then pressing down a little deeper. Each stroke made her body tremble, her hips lifting slightly then lowering like waves embracing the shore.
“Erik… Erik…”
Her voice moaned softly, her breath already breaking. She looked at the eyes in the photo, imagining they were real eyes looking down at her from above. Her legs closed then opened again, her inner thighs trembling lightly.
Her middle finger slid into the wet slit, circling slowly, drawing out tiny wet sounds. Clear fluid stuck to the tip of her finger, stretching into thin threads each time she pulled out.
“I want… want that thing of yours…” Mirielle whispered, eyes still fixed on the photo. “Want him to touch this place… want him to thrust in… deeper…”
She bit her lip, the moan swallowed in her throat. Her fingers sped up, rubbing harder on the swollen red bean, while another finger pushed inside, curling to find the sensitive spot.
Her full body twisted harder, her large breasts bouncing with the rhythm, the two pink nipples like peach blossoms standing straight and trembling with each stroke. The scent of desire grew thicker, mixing with the warm scent of her own skin.
“Erik… ah… Erik… I want that thing of his… want him inside…”
Her body suddenly clenched tight. Mirielle arched her back, head tilting back, eyes still on the photo. A warm stream of fluid gushed from between her thighs, soaking her fingers and seeping into the silk blanket.
She trembled in waves, a long moan escaping her lips, calling Erik’s name in a daze. After the climax passed, she was still panting, cheeks flushed red, eyes hazy as she looked at the face in the photo.
She did not want to stop yet. Her fingers still rested between the wet flower petals, lightly stroking as if inviting one more time. She raised the photo closer and whispered:
“Erik… give me one more time… I still want…”
At that moment, a knock sounded from outside.
“My lady, the image signal from the outpost has been restored. Moreover, we just saw Lord Erik.”
Mirielle froze. Her fingers were still between her thighs, fluid still dripping. She looked at the photo in her hand, lips parting slightly, then slowly withdrew her hand and pulled the blanket up to cover herself.
“Erik? What is he doing there?”
“My lady, he is fighting.”
The photo in her hand nearly fell onto the blanket. A second later, the door burst open. Mirielle rushed out with her hair still messy, the robe only loosely draped, one foot still in a house slipper, the other hastily shoved into a high heel.
“QUICKLY TAKE ME TO SEE!”
The butler hurried after her, at the same time signaling the maids to prepare chairs and soft cushions. She had served her mistress long enough to know what a piece of news related to Erik could cause.
In the reception room, the large magic screen had just restored connection with Laviana’s Snake Eye. Dark Mist had interfered with the transmission earlier, but part of the image temporarily stored by the magic eye remained intact. The system was replaying the interrupted segments one by one, then connecting to the live feed.
Mirielle had barely stepped in when she saw Erik slowly stand up amid the ruined watchtower. Multicolored elemental particles spun around his body, reflecting on his blood-stained face. His black hair flew in the wind, cold eyes looking toward the female Succubus facing him.
“So beautiful…”
She raised a hand to her chest, tilted, and fainted.
The butler caught her mistress before she could fall to the floor.
“Again.” The female butler sighed, then calmly signaled the servants. “Bring warm water.”
But Mirielle woke the moment she heard a loud explosion from the screen. She immediately sat up and saw Erik throw the broken spear shaft at his opponent, then switch to fighting with his left fist. One punch came down, and the massive Dark Mist axe shattered.
“Heavens! He can do that?!”
Mirielle stepped close to the screen, then suddenly saw his right arm clearly. The sleeve was torn open, blood flowing nonstop from a wound so deep that white bone was visible.
The smile on her lips vanished at once.
“His arm…”
She fainted again.
The butler sighed and helped her mistress back to the chair. A maid worriedly asked if a Healer should be summoned, and was told the invitation had already been sent the moment they heard Erik had appeared on the battlefield.
When Mirielle woke again, the image on the screen had shifted to the moment Erik had a chance to strike the female soldier’s neck. But he deliberately changed the direction of the punch, only destroying the Dark Mist strands clinging to her shoulder. That decision made him take another blow to the side.
This time Mirielle did not faint immediately.
She watched for a long time, then slowly asked: “Why doesn’t he strike quickly and end the fight?”
“That female soldier seems to be controlled, my lady.”
Mirielle was stunned. She watched Erik continue to stand in front of Elowen, trying to break the black tendons without killing the host, then unconsciously raised a hand to wipe her tears.
A man only needed to make a request and countless Succubi would volunteer to risk themselves for him. Yet Erik was putting himself in danger to save a strange female soldier.
“Fool…” She choked. “Is it worth enduring all this?”
On the screen, Erik suddenly accelerated with Lightning element. New traces of blood appeared at his mouth, nose, and ears.
Mirielle clutched her chest and leaned back for the third time.
The butler immediately raised a hand to support her.
“Another cushion.”
…
At the same time, conversations among the noble ladies in Silver Moon had almost completely changed.
A beauty at a tea party dropped her cup. Someone else had replayed the scene of Erik using his fist to smash the Dark Mist weapon until she forgot the servant standing and waiting. Some were entranced by his appearance, but the women who had been on the battlefield looked at the wounds on Erik’s body with pale faces.
They understood what he was enduring.
On the livestream, comments raced so fast they nearly covered part of the screen.
[Wait! He just smashed that axe with his BARE HANDS?!]
[I saw it! And he’s left-handed!]
[His right arm is seriously injured. Can anyone contact a Healer at the outpost?!]
[Nonsense. This is definitely a fake video. How could a man endure those wounds?]
[What kind of illusion magic creates elemental fluctuations like that? Do you even know what you’re saying?!]
[Were you there?]
[Were YOU there?]
The argument had not even settled when another account began sending harsher comments.
[A precious man throwing himself into a fight like a mercenary. Does he think that’s something to be proud of?]
[He should have let the female soldiers protect him. This kind of man who likes to play hero only causes more trouble for others!]
[Look at that arm. Getting injured serves him right.]
The comments immediately exploded.
[SERVES HIM RIGHT?! What did you just say?!]
[He’s protecting someone else! Are your eyes just for decoration?!]
[He’s trying to avoid hitting the female soldier’s vital points. Anyone with combat experience can see that!]
[You lot have lost your minds over a pretty face.]
[Fine! Tell me where you are. I’ll come meet you in person!]
[Take me with you! I want to see if she dares say that in real life!]
[Meet at the arena. I’ll take on anyone who dares insult him!]
[Can you all stop challenging each other to fights?! Erik is injured!]
But the advice was almost drowned among thousands of new comments.
[You people are deifying him. So what if a man knows how to fight? Risking his life for a strange female soldier is just stupid, isn’t it?]
[You have the right to worry about him. But don’t mock his kindness!]
[I’m not mocking. I’m just stating the truth.]
[The truth is you only know how to treat men like precious objects to put on a shelf, not as people who have the right to decide their own lives.]
That comment received agreement from countless people.
At that moment, the recording shifted to the instant the black-haired female soldier briefly regained consciousness. She cried and begged for help. Erik immediately stopped his punch, lowered his voice to soothe her, even while he himself was still heavily injured.
A large number of viewers fell silent.
[I used to think I was used to protecting men. But today, for the first time, I wish someone would protect me like that.]
[He’s not just handsome…]
[I want to kneel and thank him on behalf of that female soldier.]
[This is a miracle. I’m starting to believe he’s a god.]
Some continued to object to such excessive wording, but the mockery gradually lost its persuasive power when the image of the controlled female soldier appeared clearly on the screen.
In the manor, Mirielle had just woken when she read the insults directed at Erik. She slowly wiped her tears, her expression turning cold.
“Butler.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Record every account that just insulted Erik. Including those deliberately spreading false information.”
“Should we also record login history and IP addresses, within the range the system can verify?”
“All of it. I will review it later.”
The butler bowed and signaled the information department to handle it immediately. Mirielle had just lifted a sip of tea when, on the screen, Erik was struck by Dark Mist once more. He staggered, blood flowing from the corner of his mouth down his collar, yet he still forced himself to stand in front of Elowen.
The teacup slipped from Mirielle’s hand.
“No… no…”