Following the success of the rescue operation Ethan had carried out alongside Doran, Goldenveil’s population grew even further, reaching around five thousand two hundred people. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Of these, one hundred thirty-four were elves and twenty-seven were dwarves.

At first, the newcomers struggled to adapt to their new surroundings.

As the days passed, however, with the help of the elderly elven couple Ethan had rescued from the first goblin camp he had attacked, the integration moved forward without major complications.

Soon, a month had passed.

Population growth had dropped to almost zero, and Goldenveil’s general education school finally opened its doors, welcoming the first group of children who would begin their studies.

The parents had been a bit hesitant at first, since the little ones would no longer be helping with their work, devoting themselves instead to their books.

In the end, however, they had no choice but to accept it.

It was their lord’s wish, and no one in Goldenveil would dare question it.

In any case, that winter offered little work to be done.

Only on the slightly warmer days did construction continue. The rest of the time, the men trained with the guard and stayed at home, waiting out the freezing season.

That day, the last of the first month of winter in Goldenveil, was especially brutal.

At dusk, with the temperature plunging past thirty degrees below zero and a heavy snowstorm swallowing the dark sky, no one in their right mind would venture outside.

Well, almost no one.

From the heart of that darkness, a shadow emerged, drifting a few feet above the ground.

It moved in absolute silence, the howling wind parting around it without the slightest disturbance, until it came to a halt some two hundred meters from the gates of Goldenveil.

From the shadow stepped a pair of pale, delicate feet, sinking softly into the fresh snow.

They remained bare for a brief moment before, from the same darkness shrouding the rest of her body, a pair of black high-heeled shoes materialized around them.

Next came a pair of black pantyhose, sliding slowly upward along incomparably sensual curves, hugging the long, smooth legs all the way up to a pair of wide, voluptuous hips that flared out from her narrow waist.

Finally, the rest of the woman’s body took complete form.

A tight black skirt clung to her silhouette, the fabric stretched taut over the swelling curves of her ample backside, the round cheeks pressing against the cloth with each subtle shift of her hips.

A white top, clearly too small for the size of her huge tits, left ample portions of her cleavage exposed to the freezing air. Mounds of white, succulent flesh threatened to spill out of the strained neckline with every breath she drew, the heavy orbs bulging above and pressing hungrily against the overworked fabric.

With a sensual smile curling her red lips, she gripped the hem of the top and tugged it upward, barely managing to cover the pink areolas that had been peeking out above the fabric.

Her breasts surged inside the strained fabric with the sudden pull, the massive globes leaping upward before crashing back down with their own weight, sending fleshy ripples cascading through the soft, succulent tit-flesh as they settled into a slow, hypnotic wobble that took several long seconds to subside.

From inside the neckline, she fished out a pen and tucked it into the elegant bun of black hair gathered at the back of her head.

Adjusting her glasses on her small nose, she let out a soft sigh, the breath escaping in a curl of white mist from between her painted lips.

She was Ophelia Vaelor.

Convincing her son to let her come here had been no easy task, but in the end, she had managed to make him understand.

She did not fail her missions.

This would simply be the last one before her retirement.

Eyes fixed on Goldenveil, she set off toward the city with confident strides, her heels sinking rhythmically into the snow at every step.

At first, she had thought of disguising herself as a dirty beggar, revealing her beauty to Ethan and ending up in his arms.

But that wouldn’t work.

Golden Lords could see other people’s levels. Even if she suppressed her power as a shadow mage, Ethan would at the very least realize she was a third-stage warrior.

Still, she was far from helpless.

She had finally made contact with her agents from Earth, who were now playing Tales of Estria nonstop.

She had ordered them to gather every scrap of information they could find on this Ethan Goldenveil.

After all, she knew each and every one of the thousand Golden Lords, and Ethan should not have been among them.

Through her newly formed intelligence network, it hadn’t taken long to discover the truth: Ethan Goldenveil was, in fact, Ethan Darkwall, son of a powerful mage on the verge of reaching the fifth stage.

At such a critical moment, Ethan’s actual mother could not possibly maintain contact with him.

Ethan would naturally grow suspicious of a third-stage specialist throwing herself into his arms for no apparent reason. But what if that specialist had been sent by his own mother?

In that case, combined with Ethan’s degenerate personality, things would become far simpler.

Ophelia’s smile widened as she brought both hands up to cup her enormous pale breasts, her long, slender fingers coming nowhere near to fully encompassing such incomparable size and beauty.

She gave them a slow, appreciative squeeze, the impossibly soft flesh swelling out between her digits, the milky skin so plush her fingers all but vanished into it.

She was bigger than Elena, and her tiny waist looked far too narrow to bear the full weight of those voluminous orbs straining against her top.

With a gentle motion, she brushed away the snow gathered in the deep valley of her cleavage, the pale skin glistening damply where the flakes had melted against her warmth, droplets sliding slowly down between the heavy mounds.

At last, she reached the gates.

"Who’s there?" a voice echoed from the other side of the wall, unmistakably that of a guard.

"Just tell your master that his mother sent me," Ophelia replied sweetly.

With the slightest push, she sank into the shadows and reappeared on the opposite side of the gate in the blink of an eye.

Powerful murderous intent rained down on her at once, swords drawn in perfect sync, the sharp ring of steel cutting through the icy air.

The men’s eyes widened as they took in her stunning beauty and revealing attire.

Wasn’t she afraid of that hellish cold?

"What are you doing here?" one of the guards demanded, his voice tense, knuckles white around the hilt.

"Didn’t you hear me? Go fetch your master. His mother sent me," Ophelia smiled, letting her gaze wander over the surrounding town with an impressed expression.

It was far more incredible than what the spies planted in Goldenveil had described. No...

There was no comparison whatsoever to that pitiful cluster of walled houses her son called a village.

As she took everything in, Ophelia’s gaze fell upon a figure approaching on the horizon, flanked by a guard.

Her body trembled, and her eyes widened.

That couldn’t be the Lord of Goldenveil, could it?