Leveling Up by Defiling Milfs-Chapter 109: Ch: Nancesmith
Daniel used the remaining essence points to balance his newly gained stats.
He invested a little more into Intelligence, believing it would strengthen his lightning attacks—which was true.
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(Page: -1)
Name: Daniel Dikson
Race: Human
Companion: Veilintina [Lust Demon]
Exp: 7900/11500
Level: 26
HP: 2600/2600
Mana: 720/720
Charm: 24 [+]
Strength: 54 [+]
Dexterity: 20 [+]
Vitality: 20 [+]
Intelligence: 26 [+]
Essence Points Available: 00
Skill: {Voodoo Trap} {Pouch}
Ability: {Third Eye} {Incantation} {Eternal Eye}
Combat Arts: {Stepback}
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"Okay, it looks better now. Wait... I haven’t added any chant for the Eternal eye," he whispered, turning the page.
"Far," he said, placing his finger on the chant.
With that done, there was nothing more for him to do within the Grimbook.
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( Page: -9 )
Unlock at level 30
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He closed the Grimbook and slipped it back into his pouch.
Daniel turned onto his back, crossing his legs and folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the cemented ceiling.
After a moment, he closed his eyes and recalled the events of that morning.
’Don and Banick, those two doesn’t look strong at all,’ he thought. ’but that Jason guy looks tough and strong. I should target him first.’
He tried to recall Jason’s description, but some lines had already faded. The only thing he clearly remembered was that Jason worked at his family’s forge as a blacksmith.
*Knock-Knock*
From the door, Marnie stepped in with a wooden plate on her hands, as the knob wasn’t locked. Normally, she often checked on her son’s room, sometimes to wake him, sometimes to draw back the curtains and let the morning sunlight in.
But today, Daniel was already awake before her.
"Oh, Son. You’re already awake," she said with a warm smile.
For a few moments, they spoke calmly, their voices gentle in the warm sunlight that filled the room.
Marnie set the plate before him, warming up the leftover chicken curry and serving it with bread and a bowl of salad.
"Mom, what about you? Have you had your breakfast?" he said with a neutral expression.
Marnie shook her head softly. "No, Son. I eat only after the household chores are done."
He narrowed his eyes and gestured for her to sit on the bed; she obeyed without hesitation.
Daniel revealed his morning boner to her. Instinctively, Marnie’s eyes widened, her hand closing slowly around his shaft. Then shoved his cock deep into her mouth — claiming her wet heat for a slow, deliberate blowjob.
*Gwak-Slurp-Suck*
...
Half an hour later, she slipped from his room with a secretive smile, her lips still glossy, her movements calm as she carried the plate in her hands.
Marnie’s morning meal — hot cum gravy.
Daniel glanced at the window; the sun had already set. ’I think it’s time to hunt them before they hunt me,’ he murmured.
...
*Creak-Clang*
Daniel stepped out of the house, dressed in a brown tunic and cream-colored cotton pants, wooden clogs on his feet, and a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, a letter and a black cloth bandana tucked inside.
He walked toward the marketplace, where the blacksmith’s shop stood.
There were only a few blacksmith, carpenter, tanner, and weaver shops in the market, located across from the butcher and grocery stores.
Wagons rattled past him, and people hurried by as he made his way through the marketplace. Soon, he reached the blacksmith’s shop where a metal plate reading ’Nancesmith’ hanging from a wooden pole.
Daniel approached calmly, and knocked the wooden door.
*Knock-Knock*
Soon, a man in his early fifties opened the door—white hair, white mustache, broad shoulders, and a leather apron worn over a blue tunic.
"Yes, how can I help you young man?" the man asked, holding a hammer on his right hand.
"Status," Daniel whispered almost immediately and scanned.
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Name: Nolan Nance
Age: 52
HP: 3200/3200
Mana: 1500/1500
Description: A hardworking man who dreams of becoming rich one day and living a peaceful life. But after his parents died when he was young, he was forced to start earning at an early age.
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Daniel quickly confirmed that the man was indeed Jason’s father, then glanced behind him — there was no one.
"Uhm... is Jason here?" he asked with a neutral expression, though he already knew the answer.
Nolan shook his head gently. "No, but he should be arriving soon. Are you a friend of his?"
"Yes," Daniel nodded quietly. "Sir, could you please deliver this letter to Jason?"
Daniel swiftly pulled the letter from his satchel and handed it to him. Nolan’s eyes narrowed, then returned to his normal expression.
"Okay, young man. I’ll give it to him," Nolan replied warmly.
"Thank you, sir," Daniel said with a respectful nod.
He left the Nancesmith shop and wandered around for a while, until his eyes fell on a weaver’s shop.
"Oh, I forgot I ran out of wool," he murmured, heading toward it.
On one side, he was buying wool; on the other, his gaze lingered on the blacksmith’s shop in the distance.
The Nancesmith shop was a single-story, rustic wooden structure, sitting humbly on a dusty plain, its chimney drifting smoke beneath a black stone roof.
A wide porch sheltered the glowing brick forge, an anvil, and steaming water barrels. Rusty tools hung from the beams, while firewood and a cartwheel lay scattered in the dirt yard.
"Give me a cheapest white ball of wool," Daniel said, leaning on the counter.
"Sure, that’ll be five copper coins," the man replied in a steady tone.
...
While Daniel passed the time at the weaver’s shop, a horse-drawn wagon rumbled into the Nancesmith. Jason stepped down, lifting metal bars cradled in his arms, and walked steadily from the wagon to the shop.
’There he is," Daniel whispered under his breath.
Daniel watched him load the metal bars while standing near the weaver’s shop. Once he finished, his father handed him a letter.
Jason wiped the sweat from his forehead and unfolded it to read.
...
The moment Jason approached his father and began speaking, Daniel set off, continuing on his way to his destination.
—
At the graveyard gate,
"Where the hell is kyle..." Jason muttered as he moved toward the graveyard.
He reread the letter and continued forward.
"Kyle! Kyle!" Jason shouted, but no one answered.
When he reached the graveyard, he was surprised to find the gate standing open. Assuming Kyle was inside, he stepped through without hesitation.
"Kyle!"
"Behind you," Daniel said, in a low voice.
Jason turned and saw him, half his face concealed beneath a bandana.
"Kyle? You’re not kyle..." Jason said, his expression twisting in confusion.
Daniel nodded softly.
Jason looked him over.
Compared to Daniel, he was broader and more muscular. Studying Daniel’s lean frame, he saw no real threat — just another guy trying to look tougher than he was.
His eyes swept over him once more, searching for a weapon, but found none. In Jason’s mind — there was nothing to fear.
"Who are you? Show your face," Jason demanded, his voice firm.
"Who do you think I am... Jason," Daniel replied, his tone deepening.
Hearing his name from a stranger, Jason felt a jolt of surprise. His gaze hardened, and his fists curled tightly at his sides.
’How does he know my name?’ he thought. ’Is he the one who wrote the letter? If that’s true, then he knows about my friends. Which means... wait, was he the one who beat Krin this morning?’
Daniel walked forward slowly, closing the distance between them. Jason didn’t move an inch, his eyes fixed on Daniel as he analyzed his body language.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Jason asked, unfazed.
"You’d better run if you don’t want to get beaten, until you beg for your life by kissing my feet," Daniel said, his voice low and deep.
Jason chuckled softly. "Are you talking about yourself? Heh..."
The path was cracked and uneven, scattered with loose stones. Cemented crosses rose among weathered coffins on either side. It was a narrow way, and Jason stood in the middle of it. If he wanted to leave, he would have to get past Daniel.
But Jason lowered his center of gravity and slipped into a fighting stance, ready for a fight.
’Haah... it’s been a long time since I’ve had a real fight,’ Jason murmured under his breath.
Daniel lunged forward, his wooden clogs striking sharply against the cracked stone as he closed the distance. His fist shot out in a straight line toward Jason’s face.
Jason shifted to the side at the last second, and dodged punch. A slow smile spread across his face.
"Heh... poor guy, trying so hard just to land a punch," he whispered.
A moment of silence settled between the as they circled each other.
"Let me guess, you’re the one who beat our friend, and now you want to beat me?" Jason said in a steady tone.
Daniel didn’t say a word, nor did he have any intention of backing down. He charged again, throwing another punch. But to his surprise, Jason caught it midair.
*Thap*
"Fool," said Jason.
