Chapter 263: Nieve Wants to Eat Lance

Chapter 263: Chapter 263: Nieve Wants to Eat Lance

To achieve this goal, he would have to change his strategy and start frantically stockpiling bombs.

If his Imaginary Number Dark Grid had been packed with hundreds, even thousands, of Goblin Alchemy Explosives during this fight,

then even if his opponent was a Level 5 Blast Master, he would have had enough firepower to leave them buried in these mines forever.

’Ultimately, the problem is that I’ve grown too quickly since I got here. My foundations are shallow, and I lack the resources that can only be accumulated over time.’

But now that he had a clear goal, Lance felt a new surge of motivation.

’I wonder how Bazzer is doing with that manuscript?’

Today’s battle had only reinforced his belief in the importance of the General Concept Reputation Value.

His failure to strip his opponent’s armor on the first try was because the Royal Armory’s check value was too low.

If he had been backed by a high enough Reputation Value, he could have stripped off that entire set of premium armor the moment the fight began. The rest of the battle wouldn’t have been nearly so difficult.

Shaking off his thoughts, Lance raised his right arm.

His High-Frequency Steam Chain Blade shot out with a WHIR, slicing a massive boulder blocking his path in two.

He followed the newly-cleared path through the rubble and soon found the large pile of Magic Material he had hidden with Nieve in a concealed crevice.

With a flicker of Telekinesis.

The Imaginary Number Dark Grid opened without a sound. Lance tossed all the spoils inside, then strode off toward the Public Safety Zone.

...

The Underground City’s Public Safety Zone.

Inside the same humble tavern from yesterday.

Nieve sat quietly at a table by the window.

She was still wearing the same suit of Light Armor she’d had on in the Underground City.

The surrounding Adventurers, busy drinking and boasting, would occasionally shoot curious glances toward the ice-blue-haired Snow Lady.

After all, she had been sitting there, completely motionless, for several hours.

A waiter in a vest, tray in hand, tried to approach and ask if she wanted to order anything.

But as he reached her table, before he could even open his mouth, he was repelled by the oppressive aura emanating from the young woman.

The waiter returned unsuccessful once again. He could only stand helplessly behind the bar, watching the Snow Lady and her vacant stare.

Nieve just sat there, her gaze fixed on the bustling crowd outside the window.

’Is Lance going to die?’

This terrible thought swirled constantly in her mind.

The sweet boy still hadn’t come back.

She lowered her head and glanced at the glass of plain water on the table in front of her.

At some point, the once room-temperature water had started to give off wisps of cold mist. A thin layer of frost had even formed on the glass.

This was simply how the Snow Lady race was.

When they were feeling down or sad, their bodies would uncontrollably release a frosty chill.

Just then,

the bell hanging on the tavern’s wooden door gave a crisp chime.

TING.

At the sound, the Snow Lady’s dull eyes instantly lit up.

She immediately turned her head to look.

When a familiar figure appeared in the doorway, the wooden chair beneath Nieve shot backward with a piercing screech.

She jumped to her feet and broke into a run, heading straight for the figure.

But as she reached him, she didn’t throw herself into his arms in an emotional embrace as the onlookers might have expected.

Instead, she stopped short.

She stood there quietly, her head tilted up to look at his face, not saying a word.

The person who pushed open the door was none other than Lance.

He had just washed the blood and grime off at an inn and changed into a clean set of black casual clothes before rushing straight over.

He knew that with Nieve’s guileless nature, she would be waiting right here for him.

"I’m back."

Lance looked at the girl before him, about to greet her with a smile.

But Nieve suddenly reached out with her pale hands.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her cool palms tightly against the carotid artery on Lance’s neck.

The sudden, icy touch made Lance flinch instinctively.

He only felt a ticklish sensation on his neck.

"What are you doing?"

Lance couldn’t help but laugh, not pushing her away.

Nieve still said nothing.

She just closed her eyes, silently feeling the strong, steady heartbeat under her palms and the living warmth radiating from his skin.

Her crystalline eyebrows trembled slightly.

After several long seconds,

she opened her eyes, slowly pulled back her hands, and let out a long, inward sigh of relief.

"Warm."

Nieve said in her flat but slightly relieved tone, "Lance didn’t lie to Nieve."

Feeling the girl’s genuine worry, Lance felt a warmth spread through his chest.

"See? I told you I was tough. A guy like that could never kill me."

Lance reached out and ruffled her long, ice-blue hair.

The two turned and walked back to the window seat and sat down.

Lance noticed that Nieve’s entire aura had changed, perhaps because she knew delicious food was on its way.

Nieve’s aura was completely different now.

The gloomy, oppressive air around her vanished, and even the frozen water in her glass began to slowly melt.

Lance waved over the waiter.

He knew Nieve had probably been looking forward to this meal for quite some time, so he went ahead and ordered a few of their signature desserts to start.

Things like a freshly baked chocolate lava cake and a strawberry mousse dusted with powdered sugar.

The waiter quickly brought the desserts to the table.

Nieve gazed at the fragrant lava cake in front of her and eagerly picked up her small silver spoon.

She carefully scooped a small piece and put it in her mouth.

But after a couple of bites,

her expectant expression crumbled.

It was tasteless.

Other than the soft texture, her congenitally dull sense of taste couldn’t register even a hint of sweetness.

Disappointed, Nieve silently put down her spoon.

’It really is because of Lance.’

Then she looked up, gazing at Lance with the pleading eyes of a kitten begging for a treat.

Seeing her crestfallen expression, Lance gave a helpless smile.

Of course, he knew what she meant.

"There’s just no helping you."

Lance could only extend his slender right hand and gently pinch a piece from the edge of the cake, dripping with chocolate sauce.

He reached across the table and brought it to Nieve’s lips.

Nieve immediately opened her mouth, taking the cake—and the tips of Lance’s fingers—into her mouth.

In the instant their skin touched,

his Sensory Overload Trait activated instantly.

An intensely rich, sweet chocolate flavor exploded in Nieve’s mouth.

The familiar, star-like sparkle returned to her eyes.

’Delicious! This is so delicious!’

Not wanting to waste a single drop of the wonderful flavor,

she even extended the soft tip of her tongue to slowly lick clean the stray drops of sauce from his fingers.

That damp, warm sensation traveled directly up his nerves to his brain.

’What a ridiculously awful Trait.’

Lance struggled to keep his expression calm, screaming internally.

’This is making me feel like a pervert.’

’If I stick with this system for much longer, my own kinks are going to get weird.’

Lance could even feel her unconsciously nibbling on his knuckles.

’This is not a good habit.’

A good while passed.

Only then did Nieve reluctantly release Lance’s fingers.

She licked her lips, savoring the lingering taste, as if still reliving that wonderful sensation.

Lance could clearly see that her eyes, usually so lucid, were now hazy with an expression of pure sensory bliss.

Only when the clamor of the tavern seeped back into her awareness,

did Nieve finally pull back from the wondrous gastronomic experience.

She sat up straight, staring seriously into Lance’s eyes.

"Lance, you’re so sweet."

The young woman’s voice trembled, her eyes full of expectation.

"Nieve wants to eat Lance..."

...

Just as Lance was reeling from these brazen words, the editors at Midnight Rose in the Royal Capital were arguing over the manuscript for Night of Melting Snow: The Fall of the Snow Woman.

Ultimately, the decision on the manuscript fell to the true master of Midnight Rose.

Marchioness Vesper.

Seraphina von Visper