He didn’t care. He idly stroked the curves of Nehen’s snow-white body. She was the most beautiful witch in the world... Of course, Hadjar would never say that in front of Serra. Now, in these rare hours of undisturbed peace, he could afford to relax and let his mind wander.
“My stupid General,” her hot lips growled in his ear almost wolfishly.
Hadjar shivered and goose bumps covered his skin. Everything below the belt tightened, and Nehen, feeling her man’s growing desire, leaned closer. She did so in a way that only experienced women could manage. In just one movement, they were able to make men lose their minds and ability to think clearly. It was neither magic nor secrets learned on the path of cultivation. Just a simple female trick. Sometimes, it could cost a naive fool his life, if he was someone accustomed to thinking with the wrong organ.
“Why do you call me stupid all the time?” Hadjar asked, keeping himself under control for now.
Nehen squirmed and bent like a cat. She played with him, checking how much longer he would be able to resist her charms. She stroked herself over rounded hills, and her fingers went down into their hollows, beckoning him to their warmth and pleasure. She breathed loudly, and for the first time Hadjar felt like prey.
“I don’t know, stupid General,” she whispered and then growled. “Maybe because I want to. Or maybe... because you’re stupid.”
“And yet...”
She didn’t let him finish, but he found that, in this case, losing a small battle could probably feel good.
Hadjar wasn’t mistaken.
***
Hadjar was torn away from these pleasant but distant memories by the sound of a hunting horn. Nero seemed to use it purely to annoy his friend. After the battle, if what had transpired between the General and the young noble could even be called that, the group had had to stay in the clearing for another day.
Not because of Hadjar’s wounds. Despite the apparent severity of his injuries, he merely had shallow cuts on his back and sides. Fortunately, neither his spine nor his internal organs had been damaged. Only the muscle tissue had been cut. Special ointments, left over from their time in the army, and his body enhancement Technique, had handled it quickly.
Alas, the Technique was at a very low level, otherwise, such attacks could never have hurt Hadjar at all. It was impossible to find knowledge about the higher levels of the Technique in a place like Lidus, or the special resources that were needed to attain them. No, the delay wasn’t due to Hadjar.
Oneg needed time to recover, so the group had set up camp. This camp looked richer than some of the cities Hadjar had visited when he’d been a traveling circus freak.
His energy and strength returned to Oneg pretty quickly, but his wounded pride... The fact that all those girls who’d recently been fawning over their idol now avoided him had only worsened the situation.
Izma and Oneg’s other friends shot mocking glances at the until recently unspoken leader of the aristocracy. As a result, Oneg avoided Hadjar, trying not to acknowledge the existence of his personal ‘nemesis’. At the same time, he took his frustration out on the servants, cooks, and beaters. They endured and looked at Hadjar with respect and admiration. It would’ve been easy to kill the aristocrat, but for people of such a rank, there were things worse than death. For example, living with dishonor. Well, relative to the warped form of ‘honor’ they believed in.
“Get ready!” Nero commanded and jumped on his horse.
He needn’t have bothered...
The camp was so huge that it took them a few more hours to get going. Therefore, they set off in the afternoon. The sun was shining lazily through the dense treetops, and the hunters moved deeper into the forest. Their strong, hearty mounts at the Stage of the Awakening of Power could travel long distances with ease, and by dusk, they reached the Mountain of the Kings.
On its northeastern slope, which was impossible to see from the plateau on which the hunters had stopped, stood the ruins of an ancient castle. Hadjar looked around, trying to remember where they were. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t remember these forests or the plateau.
Everything around him was unnervingly unfamiliar, although Hadjar, as a child, had explored everywhere. He glanced at the Princess, but Elaine immediately looked away. After the duel, her attitude had-
“Danger!” Nero exclaimed.
At that very moment, the horses neighed. Some of them reared up, dropping their unprepared riders. Hadjar jumped down, holding his horse’s bridle firmly.
Alas, it didn’t help much.
The ground beneath their feet trembled and stone geysers shot upwards.
“Damn!” Nero muttered.
Hadjar was inclined to agree. Three Earth Dragons had crawled out of the ground, a good ten yards tall. These smelly and slimy worms devoid of limbs weren’t related to actual dragons. However, they had fiery saliva and mouths decorated with thousands of yellow, sharp fangs.
The beaters immediately took up fighting positions, and the aristocrats grabbed their weapons. Hadjar also prepared for battle.
“Elaine!” Someone in the crowd shouted.
Hadjar and Nero turned as one toward the Princess. She was already rushing toward the bottomless, black abyss that had appeared on the plateau. The girl had clearly been overwhelmed and couldn’t control her horse.
The two friends simultaneously started riding after her, but Nero wasn’t destined to travel even a dozen yards. He was intercepted by one of the Earth Dragons. The battle was on.
Hadjar rushed after the Princess, but understood that he would be too late.
Her horse, not looking down because of its terror, was getting closer and closer to the brink of the abyss.
Hadjar thrust his hand forward.
Golden hair shone.
Elaine almost brushed her fingers against his own, but then disappeared beyond the edge of the cliff.
Nero, who was fighting the huge creature, just managed to see his friend jumping after the Princess, straight into the mouth of the hungry abyss.
“Stupid General!” could be heard coming from somewhere,
