The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 86

“It’s already past midnight. Why should she have to drink with him?” An elderly woman with a walking stick emerged, indignantly confronting them.

“Shut it, old hag! Where’s Oda? The young lord fancies her,” the man sneered.

“No! Oda has already gone to sleep!”

“No? That’s easy to fix! The usual penalty, then: tomorrow, all the mine slaves will work an extra hour, with one less bottle of water and one less piece of bread. Oh, and with the unrest in the east lately, maybe we should send some of your guard over there to check it out, eh?”

“You... you are despicable!” The old woman coughed with rage, slamming her walking stick on the ground. The other women were furious, but numbness had set in, and none dared to resist.

“Aunt Helna, I’ll go,” said a gaunt young girl emerging from behind the lady of the house. Her face was pale and weary, showing signs of fatigue, yet she mustered a smile to comfort her kin.

Aunt Helna? Was she Aunt Helna?

Alavin stared incredulously at the weathered old woman. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and her chin was quivering with emotion.

Was this old woman his aunt? She was not yet fifty years of age! In his memories, she was regal and radiant, a woman of unrivaled beauty. How... how could this have happened...

The girl changed her clothes and gave everyone a reassuring smile before following the Cobalt Strike Protégé out of the courtyard.

The people in the courtyard were worried, but they lacked the power to resist, only able to watch helplessly as Oda was taken away.

The lady tapped her walking stick gently on the ground. “Go inform Lucan! That bastard from Cobalt Strike is up to no good!”

The young girl was Alavin’s sister, Oda. She was two years younger, and already a graceful and exquisite figure, with an air of refined beauty. But the long hours of hard labor had dimmed her complexion and left her spirits low. Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

She was led into the opulent manor next door. Her hands clenched unconsciously within her sleeves, and her eyes were filled with nervousness and wariness.

Deep within the manor, in a spacious courtyard, there was a scene of decadent affluence. The sound of a lute played, light and crisp. A group of dancers moved gracefully, their dance enchanting and their steps light. Each woman was scantily clad, with pale corsets and long trousers beneath thin red veils, revealing their perfect figures to the onlookers.

Many Cobalt Strike Protégés were scattered about, shamelessly admiring the dancers’ beguiling movements.

Though they danced with ethereal grace, their faces were expressionless, and their eyes betrayed fatigue.

In the courtyard, large tables and lounging chairs were set up, where a youth not yet twenty years of age was lounging. He held a delicate wine jug, and his head was lolling in drunkenness. Several pretty young girls knelt beside him, fanning him gently and massaging his legs while he half-closed his eyes in blissful enjoyment of the spectacle before him.

“Sir, Oda has been brought,” announced one of the Cobalt Strike Protégés as they ushered Oda into the courtyard, lingering to feast their eyes on the alluring dancers.

“Oda, go take a bath and change your clothes,” the young man said with a grin, beckoning Oda with his hand.

“What do you want me for?” Oda’s heart was filled with sorrow and anger every time she saw the scene in the courtyard. These women had once been maidservants of the Mallister family, tending to the household, but now they had been reduced to dancers and were forced to engage in shameful acts.

“What for? You are a servant of the manor, and I am its master. When I call, you come and do what I tell you to do.”

“Grennan, we of the Mallister family are hired help, not your slaves.”

“Take that up with the Grand Elder. Arguing with me is pointless. I don’t care what crimes the Mallister family has committed, nor what your status was. All I know is... you now must obey me,” Grennan declared, swaying on his feet as he drunkenly approached Oda. This little maid deliberately didn’t adorn herself, looking quite plain, but he could tell she was a beauty in the making, and ah... heh heh... just beginning to blossom.

“What are you going to do?” The lute players and dancers all stopped, stepping forward to stand before Oda, shielding their young mistress.