Chapter 27: I’m A Special Case, My Lord

Chapter 27: Chapter 27: I’m A Special Case, My Lord

"I heard that a village discovered a dungeon somewhere in the forest."

The moment those words were spoken, several members of Ironfang became interested.

"A dungeon?"

Darian’s eyes narrowed slightly. The guard remained silent.

That silence alone was enough to confirm that there was some truth behind the rumor.

Another adventurer leaned forward.

"Leader, we should go."

The woman beside Darian nodded.

"I agree. If the mayor is personally summoning us, this probably isn’t something minor."

A large man sitting at the end of the table rubbed his chin.

"And if the rumors are true..."

His eyes began to shine.

"A new dungeon could mean a lot of money."

One of the archers laughed.

"You’re thinking about treasure already?"

"Of course."

The large man grinned.

"Why else would I risk my life?"

Darian shook his head with amusement.

"At least you’re honest."

He then turned his attention toward the guard.

"How long has the mayor been waiting?"

"Not long, sir. He instructed me to bring you immediately."

Darian glanced around the table.

The excitement that had been present only moments earlier had completely disappeared.

Everyone now understood that their ordinary evening had just taken an unexpected turn.

Darian slowly stood.

"Very well."

He picked up his sword and fastened it securely around his waist.

"We’ll go."

The guard nodded.

"Thank you, Sir Darian."

Darian looked toward his companions.

"Everyone, finish what you can. We’re leaving."

One of the adventurers stared at the half-eaten roast in front of him.

"Can I take this with me?"

Darian gave him a flat look.

"We’re going to meet the mayor."

"I know."

"Then why are you worried about the meat?"

"Because it’s expensive."

The table erupted in laughter once again.

Darian sighed.

"Fine. Take it."

The man immediately wrapped the remaining meat in a cloth.

"Best leader."

As they walked toward the entrance, Darian glanced back at the guard.

"One question."

"Yes?"

"Is the dungeon confirmed?"

The guard hesitated for a moment.

Then he nodded.

"According to the information brought by the hunter, yes."

Darian’s expression became thoughtful.

"And do we know its tier?"

"No."

That answer immediately caught his attention.

"Unknown?"

"The mayor is currently determining that."

Darian exchanged a glance with his companions.

One of them quietly muttered,

"An unknown dungeon..."

Another smiled.

"Now I’m interested."

-----

Back inside the dungeon, Ragnar was still seated upon his throne.

The throne room had become considerably different since Veyra had appeared. The room itself remained as quiet as ever, with only the faint flickering of magical light illuminating the dark stone walls, but Ragnar could no longer enjoy that peaceful atmosphere.

Because Veyra was staring at him, and she had been staring at him for hours now.

Ragnar slowly lowered the system window he had been examining and glanced at her.

Veyra was standing several steps away from the throne, her crimson eyes fixed upon him with an intensity that made Ragnar feel as though she could see straight through him.

Her expression was calm, but the faint smile on her lips made it obvious that something was going through her mind.

More importantly, there was an almost ridiculous amount of affection in her gaze.

If hearts could literally appear in someone’s eyes, Ragnar was fairly certain that Veyra would have several floating around her head at that very moment.

Ragnar sighed.

"Veyra."

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

Veyra tilted her head slightly.

"Because you’re very handsome, my lord."

"That’s not an answer."

"It is the answer."

She smiled.

Ragnar rubbed his forehead.

Ever since the moment she had been summoned, Veyra had behaved like this. She was respectful and completely obedient, but at the same time, she seemed determined to stay as close to him as possible.

Then Veyra suddenly stepped closer.

"My Lord."

"Hm?"

"Can I sit on your lap?"

Ragnar stared at her.

"...Again?"

Veyra’s smile became even more charming.

"Is that a yes?"

Ragnar looked at her for several seconds.

Veyra continued smiling innocently.

In the end, Ragnar said.

"Fine."

Veyra’s crimson eyes immediately brightened.

"Thank you, My Lord."

She walked toward him without the slightest hesitation and carefully sat down on his lap, making herself comfortable while resting against him.

Ragnar stiffened slightly.

He had expected her to simply sit there.

Instead, the moment she settled down, her body naturally leaned against his chest, and the faint, sweet scent surrounding her reached his senses.

It wasn’t overpowering.

It was a subtle fragrance, warm and strangely alluring, mixed with the faint scent of magic that seemed to naturally cling to her body.

Ragnar’s expression became increasingly complicated.

"You’re really comfortable, aren’t you?"

"Very."

Veyra answered immediately.

She adjusted herself slightly before looking up at him.

"I’ve decided that this is my favorite place in the entire dungeon."

"Your favorite place?"

Her flirting was becoming increasingly shameless.

Ragnar could only look toward the ceiling and silently pray that his self-control wouldn’t completely abandon him.

He had a dungeon to manage, and a monsters to organize.

He had a newly summoned Level 30 subordinate sitting on his lap.

And somehow, the last problem was becoming the most difficult one.

Ragnar took a slow breath.

"Veyra."

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Tell me something."

"What would you like to know?"

"What’s your story?"

Veyra’s expression changed slightly.

The playful smile remained, but a trace of seriousness appeared within her crimson eyes.

"My story?"

"Yes."

Ragnar rested one hand against the armrest while the other remained carefully positioned so that he wouldn’t accidentally make the situation even more awkward.

"You weren’t an ordinary demon, were you?"

Veyra shook her head.

"No, My Lord."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"Before I came here, I was the leader of a demon clan."

Ragnar raised an eyebrow.

"A demon clan?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"A third-rate clan."

Ragnar looked surprised.

"Wait."

He frowned slightly.

"I thought demon clans usually didn’t have female leaders."

Veyra chuckled softly.

"They generally don’t."

"So?"

"I’m a special case, My Lord."

She turned slightly in his arms, looking at him with a playful expression.

"Nobody in my clan could defeat me."

Ragnar blinked.