Witch Monastery

A flicker of melancholy passed through Charles, but he shook his head, dispelling the unnecessary thoughts in his mind.

Forget it. I haven't even carved out a future for myself yet—how can I spare the energy to worry about others?

With a self-deprecating chuckle, he steadied his mind and turned his attention back to his attributes panel. Under the "Class" category, "Warlock" had now been replaced with "Hexblade." However, his Class Features remained largely unchanged, with only two new additions: the recently acquired "Hex Warrior" and the long-practiced "Hexblade's Curse."

The effect of "Hexblade's Curse" was to mark a foe within thirty meters. Every subsequent strike would resonate with the curse, dealing additional damage. And if the cursed target fell, their vitality would be siphoned, replenishing his own.

This was an ability he had mastered long ago. With the help of the scriptorium and Eyes of the Rune Keeper, he had fully grasped Sophia's teachings in under three weeks, unlocking the power.

Yet, even after mastering it, his class hadn't shifted to "Hexblade." Only now, after attaining "Hex Warrior," had his advancement finally been completed!

At any rate, his class progression was successful. He exhaled in relief, dismissed the system interface, and strode toward the side door.

He had deliberately adjusted the layout so that the training grounds adjoined the bath chamber. After a thorough rinse, he changed into fresh clothes, intending to visit the scriptorium for some reading before dinner.

But to his surprise, the moment he stepped out of the bath chamber, Ruth approached, bowing slightly with practiced deference. "Priest Charles, Ms. Porter is here to see you."

It was their habit—when outsiders were present, no matter how distant, they maintained a formal demeanor to avoid suspicion.

Hearing this, Charles' expression soured. "Why is there never a moment's peace…?"

Ever since that night he tamed Sophia, people had been coming to the monastery every few days: slum residents looking to sell their houses, clerks from the District Office, investigators from Force Grey Squad, and then there was Porter...

At least the first three had legitimate business when they came to the monastery, official matters to attend to. But Porter...

She came purely out of boredom, just to tease Charles for fun!

Every time this woman visited, she would either flick his chin, pinch his nose, or last time even went so far as to grope his backside - behaving exactly like a lust-crazed seductress, making Charles want nothing more than to keep her at arm's length.

This woman had the backing of a major company and got paid without having to do anything, while he was completely different - he actually had important matters to attend to!

Yet, this was a woman he couldn't afford not to receive...

Seeing Charles' distressed expression, Ruth moved closer, her face gradually turning serious, a glint of killing intent appearing in her eyes: "Master, shall I simply..."

She left the sentence unfinished, but her words already carried a murderous tone. To this, Charles waved his hand and firmly refused: "No no, Porter is after all an influential figure in our district, and we've had quite a bit of contact with her recently."

"If she were to die suddenly, the hard-won peace in South Harbor District would likely be thrown into chaos again, and we would definitely be among the primary suspects."

As he spoke, he somewhat headache-inducingly ran his fingers through his hair, deliberately making it look messy and unkempt, then said: "It's not worth offending the Amazons over such a trivial matter. I'll deal with her myself. Sigh, it probably won't take too long to send her away."

Having said this, he strode directly toward the doorway. Ruth stepped aside to make way, watching his retreating figure, lightly biting her lower lip, filled with unwillingness: "Master..."

Meanwhile, Charles walked straight to the main doorway, where he saw Porter - that typical Amazon woman with her bronze skin, tall stature, scorching figure and revealing clothing that made it seem she didn't feel the cold at all - who had somehow moved a stone block here and was now sitting on it, her long, muscular legs crossed in a completely unladylike manner as she basked in the sun waiting for him.

Seeing him emerge from the gates, the woman's crimson lips immediately curled into a radiant, enthusiastic smile: "Priest Charles, you've finally stopped clinging to those fair and lovely nuns of yours and decided to come see me?"

As she spoke, she rose from the stone block and walked directly toward him, like a hunting lioness approaching a helpless rabbit.

Charles reflexively took half a step back, intimidated by her overwhelming presence. He swallowed hard and forced himself to muster some courage: "Ms. Porter, if I recall... shouldn't you be at work right now?"

Amazon Fisheries Company's official hours ended at six each evening, but in such a vigorous company, overtime was common. After all, every extra deal secured meant extra pay, and employees were happy to work late into the night.

The sun was already dipping westward, yet its rays remained scorching. By no means could this be considered quitting time.

To this, Porter gave a light chuckle: "As Director of the Intelligence Division, checking in on old friends and gathering information falls squarely within my job description."

As she spoke, she suddenly stepped forward, leaning down until her face was almost touching his: "Your situation happens to be very, very important to me."

Her warm breath washed over his face as she spoke, forcing Charles to retreat another half-step, his heartbeat accelerating: "Er... I'm just an ordinary priest, hardly that important. Was there something else you needed? I have my own duties to attend to, so if there's nothing else, perhaps you could..."

He turned to leave, but Porter immediately grabbed him, pinning him against the nearby wall, then abruptly raised her long leg to plant her foot on the wall beside his shoulder -

Thud -

Trapping Charles against the wall with no room to move.

"Ugh..."

Charles averted his gaze, desperately trying not to look at her bare foot clad only in a sandal, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple: "This... this isn't appropriate, Ms. Porter. If anyone saw us like this, they might suspect..."

His entire body tensed, nerves stretched to breaking point. It wasn't that he was unaccustomed to women - this one's ferocious aura completely overwhelmed him. Her undisguised predatory stare made him feel like he was about to be devoured whole!

All Charles could do was tremble.

What he didn't realize was that the more he reacted like this, the more endearing he became in Porter's eyes. "I'm not afraid," she purred. "What are you so scared of?"

Her heart pounded wildly, feeling nothing but boundless desire roaring through her veins.

Ah, how I want to press him down right now, pinch his delicate cheeks, and mercilessly play with his body…

How I want to mount him, claim him, wring every drop of his essence, and see what glorious life our union would create…

No, she had to restrain herself. He was already wary enough - if she pushed further, she might genuinely earn his dislike...

Thinking this, Porter forcibly reined in her burning desires. Before Charles could voice a second refusal or rebuke, she withdrew her thigh and stood properly, then found a legitimate excuse: "Alright, enough joking, Priest. I did come here on actual business this time."

"I heard you're preparing to build houses for sale?"

Charles blinked, swallowing back the righteous criticisms he'd prepared: "Ah, yes, that's correct. As you know, our Church of the Goddess of Life has been struggling financially in recent years..."

He wasn't surprised Porter knew about this. The nuns had been openly purchasing land and bribing officials at the District Office to streamline procedures - none of which could escape the Amazons' notice.

These women had been colluding illegally with the District Office to reap massive profits for ages. As Intelligence Division Director, Porter's primary job was gathering intel - she'd naturally know all about such matters.

"Truth be told, some of our warriors are interested in buying property in South Harbor District," Porter said seriously. "So if the price is right, we might make a bulk purchase."

"Speaking of which, what quality are these houses? And what's your asking price?"

She wasn't lying - though the matter wasn't nearly this urgent, with few currently interested. It certainly didn't warrant a daytime visit.

Her true target remained Charles himself - she'd merely suppressed her urge to molest him.

Charles nearly quoted a price, then hesitated and gave an inflated figure: "Market rate, I suppose. This is our first venture, so we're not experts. Probably... eighty square meters, two bedrooms, at ten gold per square meter... roughly."

Porter's eyebrow arched: "That cheap? What kind of houses are you building? If they're slum-quality shacks, we won't buy."

This was practically bargain-basement pricing. Between land, blueprints, construction materials, labor costs, and bribes to officials - each represented significant expenses.

With inevitable complications and troubles, ten gold per square meter would surely mean losses.

"Certainly not that shoddy," Charles said, pointing toward the stone houses on District Office streets nearby. "More like those."

Porter looked surprised, then smirked: "At that price, don't come crying later."

Unaware he had special methods to slash costs, she chuckled: "Then I'll return later to discuss details. Oh, and remember - bulk purchases deserve discounts."

Charles' lips curled slightly as he nodded: "Certainly."

Both believed they had the upper hand.

As they spoke, from the slums' direction, Hattie and Sephera rounded the corner together, approaching slowly.

At the sight of the two, Porter let out a faint sigh. She knew they disliked her—and worse, they were sharper with their words than she was. Last time, Sephera had mercilessly mocked her, every syllable striking a nerve, leaving her speechless and unable to retort.

She knew she had to leave, but slinking away in defeat wasn't the Amazon way.

Her eyes glinted with mischief. In a flash, she leaned in—before Charles could react—planted a bold kiss on his cheek, then threw her head back with laughter as she strode away, leaving him stunned.

Charles stood frozen, but the Amazon was already too far to catch. Then, he noticed Hattie and Sephera approaching, their beautiful eyes brimming with murderous intent as they glared at Porter's retreating, towering figure.

They had naturally witnessed Porter's brazen act. Now, Sephera gritted her teeth, resentment thick in her voice. "That woman keeps coming here, yet never has real business. She's definitely up to no good!"

"We must find a way to teach her a lesson!"

"Absolutely. She needs to remember her place!"

Charles, suddenly awkward, coughed. "Uh, actually, no. She did come for a reason this time. She asked about our housing project's pricing—said her people might buy in bulk if the numbers work..."

Sephera blinked. "Ah... Oh..."

She knew the monastery needed funds for upgrades. Still, her eyes flicked to the lingering lipstick on Charles's cheek. A thousand questions burned in her mind, but she chose to pretend she hadn't seen it. "Well... I suppose I misjudged her this time."

Her gaze, however, remained restless. Meanwhile, Hattie stepped forward, pulling out a handkerchief. With gentle motions, she wiped the lipstick and saliva from his face.

Charles felt a surge of gratitude—until she softly asked, "Master, have you grown tired of us? Is that why you're... sampling other women now?"

A chill shot up his spine. Though he knew the witches would never harm him, her words made his hair stand on end. He shook his head frantically. "No, no! Impossible, Hattie! Don't overthink it. I respect Porter as a formidable female warrior—nothing improper!"

Hattie lowered her lashes, her voice tinged with melancholy. "I wasn't talking about her..."

Charles stiffened. Then, the girl began recounting past grievances, her tone haunting. "That day... Lady Anno visited you. You two stood at the doorway, talking for ages. She laughed so brightly."

"And you, Master... I'd never seen you so happy before..."

His scalp prickled. His mind flooded with the memory—Anno's pure, radiant smile under the sunset, her shyness laced with admiration as she'd arrived in casual attire, her usual armor absent.

Guilt twisted in his chest. Cold sweat drenched his back; his heartbeat roared. "N-No, Hattie, you've got it wrong! I was just... handling her..."

He cared for the witches as deeply as they cared for him. He cherished them, naturally unwilling to let them feel even a hint of bitterness or wronged emotion.

Even if it wouldn't shake their loyalty.

Struggling for words, he glanced around the deserted streets, then pulled both Sephera and Hattie into the courtyard. Shutting the gate, he drew them close, arms around their shoulders, and whispered, "I was only flattering her. Force Grey is clearly investigating us. I had to play along, to avoid Blackstaff Tower's scrutiny."

"Believe me, my dears. I respect Anno—paladins who uphold justice—but nothing blasphemous crosses my mind..."

Hattie's expression softened slightly.

Then, Sephera suddenly spoke. "Master, why do you always call Anno's team 'Force Grey'?"

Charles looked confused. "Because... that's their name? Blackstaff Tower's operational branch."

Racking his memory, he recited the game's lore: "After the Goddess of Magic disappeared, Blackstaff Tower couldn't produce enough mages capable of 3rd-level spells. To maintain combat strength, they formed Force Grey—to serve their interests and recruit talented members as reinforcements..."

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