Chapter 133: Oakheaven City
They cruised through the lower cloud layers for another twenty minutes before the dense sea of white parted beneath them.
Sprawled across a verdant plateau below was a sprawling, fortified settlement built from pale timber and polished grey stone, Oakheaven City.
Azriel recognized the layout immediately from the tactical maps and trade routes Rosalind had briefed him on during his strategic studies.
It was the premier hub situated closest to the Verdant Hollow dungeon, serving as the main staging ground for expeditions into the Irida Woods, one of the continent’s most ancient, monster-dense primeval forests.
Before dipping below the canopy line, Vesperia halted their descent upon a secluded cliff shelf overlooking the valley road.
Reaching into her dimensional storage, she retrieved a sleek, intricately engraved bangle crafted from frosted silver alloy and handed it to him.
Azriel turned the metal over in his palm, feeling the faint, hum of sensory-warping enchantments etched into the inner rim.
"Oh, an illusion band," Azriel remarked, slipping it onto his wrist.
Vesperia smiled faintly, taking out an identical silver bracelet for herself.
"Indeed. I despise crowds and if a single sentinel or guild scout recognizes my face, the mayor, the garrison commanders, and every high-ranking noble in the district would swarm us within minutes to pay their respects. It would be insufferably tedious."
She paused, clasping her band into place before tilting her head curiously.
"Though... where did you get to know about the Illusion Band?"
"Rosalind gave me one just like it when she took me out on our date in the capital," Azriel replied casually.
At the word date, Vesperia’s fingers froze mid-clasp.
\A sudden, faint rose blush dusted the tops of her pale cheekbones, her golden slit pupils darting aside for a fraction of a second before she regained her composure.
Seeing that rare, flustered crack in her armor, Azriel’s lips curved into a wicked, teasing smirk.
Stepping directly behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding his right hand down to firmly grasp and knead the lush, leather-clad curve of her rear.
"Oh? What’s with that face, Ves?" he whispered directly into her pointed ear, feeling her breath hitch.
"Don’t tell me you thought we were sneaking off for a secret date of our own?"
[LIVE CHAT]
[Sadistic69] (Red): SHE GOT FLUSTERED OVER THE WORD ’DATE’! HAHAHAHA!!
[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): The way he just casually grabs her waist from behind mid-convo... he really owns every room he walks into
[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): Rosalind took him on a date with an illusion band, and now he’s putting one on with her mother... the poetic irony is unreal
[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): He’s teasing her so naturally now. Look at her tail twitching!
Vesperia let out a soft, trembling exhale as his fingers worked against her hips, though she didn’t swat his hand away.
Azriel leaned closer, his voice dropping into a smooth, low murmur.
"A real date with a woman like you deserves proper time and effort, Ves. When we do our first official one, I’ll make sure it’s unforgettable."
Vesperia turned her head slightly, her golden eyes softening with a warm, genuine smile.
"I’ll hold you to that, daddy~."
She tapped the silver band around her wrist.
A shimmering pulse of aether enveloped her figure.
Her striking white hair darkened and shifted into rich, honey-blonde tresses, and her sharp golden slit eyes shifted into warm, hazel irises.
Her facial contours softened slightly, molding her into a drop-dead gorgeous, mature noblewoman with breathtaking curves that tested the seams of her traveling dress.
With a flick of her finger, she sent a wave of illusionary aether washing over Azriel.
His striking mane like black hair shortened to inches, his sharp jawline softened into an unassuming boyish charm, and his glowing violet irises muted into a plain, deep brown.
Examining their disguises, Vesperia offered an approving nod.
"Adequate. Let’s see what this frontier city has to offer."
Side by side, they stepped off the cliff ledge, blending seamlessly into the steady flow of carriages and armed hunters entering the towering wooden gates of Oakheaven.
Passing beneath the monolithic ironwood gates, the sheer scale of Oakheaven City unfolded before them.
The architecture struck a fascinating balance between ancient fortification and sleek, aether-powered modernization.
Broad cobblestone avenues were lined with towering, multi-tiered timber manors, but embedded into every stone post were glowing, neon-esque mana-conduits that powered street lamps and public directional displays.
Armored personnel transports and sleek, mag-rail carriages humming with runic engines shared the wide boulevards with heavily armed mercenary platoons and lumbering, tamed war-beasts.
Because of the city’s direct proximity to the Irida Woods, which harbored endless erratic spatial rifts alongside The Shattered Labyrinth, one of Gorgorath’s three permanent S Rank dungeons, Oakheaven was an absolute haven for elite hunters.
Every corner of Oakheaven buzzed with raw combat power, but beneath the commercial veneer lay a far darker, unrestrained cruelty that stripped away whatever delicate etiquette existed in the capital.
Here on the lawless frontier, the matriarchal hierarchy ruled with an iron, unforgiving grip.
Azriel’s brown, illusion-masked eyes scanned the crowded thoroughfare with sharp, calculating focus.
To his left, a squad of scarred vanguard female hunters marched past in heavy runic plate, their polished boots thudding against the cobblestones.
Flanking their formation were two leashed Iron-Plated Saber-Boars, their metallic tusks sparking violently against enchanted muzzle-plates.
Yet what caught Azriel’s attention wasn’t just the beasts, it was the line of battered, barefoot men trailing behind the column.
Clad in filthy, torn rags, their wrists were bound in heavy, mana-suppressing iron manacles, iron slave-collars locked tight around their bruised throats.
They dragged massive carts of heavy timber and bloodstained monster carcasses through the mud, heads bowed in absolute terror.
Whenever one stumbled, a female hunter cracked a barbed whip across his bare back without breaking stride, the wet crack drawing indifferent, bored glances from passing noblewomen.
In the capital, the female supremacy carried an air of refined, possessive decorum, here in the shadow of the primeval woods, men were treated as disposable beasts of burden, broken and degraded out in the open like filthy cattle.
Overhead, the massive wingspan of a Gale-Feather Wyvern eclipsed the sun, casting a fleeting shadow across the glass-paneled storefronts as a high-ranking matriarch scout circled the central dispatch tower.
Nearby, a wealthy guild mistress rolled past in an ornate carriage.
In tow behind her wheels was a caged, docile Phosphor-Stag, its glowing crystalline antlers pulsing with soft, fragrant healing aether that briefly masked the heavy stench of sweat, iron, and rotting viscera rising from the slave pens across the avenue.
Azriel watched the grim spectacle in silence.
For over an hour, Azriel and Vesperia strolled through the sprawling trade districts.
Eventually, they arrived at the upper commercial plaza, stopping before an opulent, reinforced stone structure adorned with polished brass gears and glowing runic crests.
The Gilded Vault Exchange & Atelier.
Azriel had a very specific objective in coming here.
Glancing down at the silver ring glistening on his left ring finger, the spatial band Rosalind had given him with such possessive love and quiet tenderness, a subtle smile tugged at his lips.
He possessed the sleek black imperial credit card Rosalind had slipped into the ring, an artifact with an essentially limitless balance capable of buying half a district.
Yet using her money to buy a ring meant for her felt fundamentally wrong.
He wanted to buy her gift with wealth carved entirely out of his own blood, sweat, and dungeon kills.
Pushing open the heavy reinforced glass doors, they stepped into a climate-controlled hall bathed in warm, luminous crystal light.
Polished display cases of enchanted glass stretched across the showroom, housing everything from ward-etched jewelry and aether-infused sidearms to sealed phials of high-grade alchemical draughts.
As they approached the elevated marble transaction counter, a sharp-eyed female merchant in an impeccably tailored velvet coat adjusted her runic monocle.
Recognizing the effortless, commanding posture of the stunning blonde woman, the appraiser bowed with practiced, deferential grace, completely bypassing the unassuming young man at her side.
"Welcome to the Gilded Vault, Madam," the merchant greeted, offering Vesperia a polite, calculating smile.
"Are you seeking acquisition, liquidation, or high-tier appraisal today?"
Vesperia offered an amused, dismissive wave of her hand, stepping back half a pace to yield the floor.
"Speak to him," Vesperia said smoothly, "My companion will be handling today’s business."
The merchant raised a subtle brow but her professional mask snapped back into place instantly.
"Selling raw materials," Azriel said evenly, taking the center of the counter.
With a fluid sweep of his hand, Azriel opened his storage ring, unloading the heavy spoils of his recent dungeon conquests directly onto the appraisal scale.
THUD. THUD.
First came the severed, iridescent Alpha Shadow Core and the curved horns of the Dread-Fang Wolf Alpha.
Then, the counter groaned under the weight of four glistening sheets of Flawless Corrosive Membrane, the two heavy Calcified Toad Horns, the Mire-Walker’s Ring, and the venomous Caustic Bone-Dagger harvested from the Mire-Toad.
The merchant’s eyes widened, her practiced composure instantly shattering as she adjusted her runic magnifying monocle.
"D-Rank Alpha components... and peak E-Rank boss drops with zero harvest degradation?" The appraiser swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she leaned over the display. "These corrosive membranes are entirely intact, not a single sign of weapon scarring or structural decay."
She rapidly keyed values into her glowing aether-terminal, running the valuation runes across each pristine piece before composing herself with a polished, commercial smile.
"For the complete lot, the boss equipment, the pristine drops, and the Alpha core, I can offer a full market valuation of fifty thousand credits."