The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the tangled mess of sheets and bodies in Oliver's room. The air still carried the musky scent of their night's debauchery, a mix of sweat, cum, and the faint tang of potion-fueled exertion. Oliver stirred first, his muscles aching but sated, the weight of Isolde's petite frame pressed against his chest and Serena's voluptuous curves sprawled across his legs. He groaned softly, blinking against the light, his mind replaying the wild threesome that had left them all wrecked.

Isolde shifted beside him, her white hair a chaotic halo around her face, a sleepy smirk tugging at her lips as she nuzzled closer. "Morning, master," she murmured, her voice husky from the night's screams. Her hand lazily traced circles on his chest, brushing over the faint red marks her nails had left.

Serena stirred next, her massive boobs heaving with a deep breath as she rolled onto her side, her thicc thighs rubbing together. Her wild hair was a mess, and the bushy patch between her legs peeked out from under the tangled nightdress. "Fuck, I'm sore," she chuckled, her voice a throaty rasp. "You really gave this milf whore a workout, hero."

Oliver smirked, sitting up slowly, the sheets sliding off to reveal his lean, rune-marked body still marked with bites and bruises. "You two asked for it," he said, his tone teasing but tired. "Didn't expect the landlady to turn into such a cock-hungry slut."

Serena laughed, swatting his thigh playfully, her hand lingering. "Blame that stamina potion. Now I know why you're such a beast in bed."

Isolde sat up, stretching her arms above her head, her busty tits bouncing free as the nightgown slipped down. "He's our beast," she said with a possessive edge, leaning in to kiss his neck. "But we should clean up before the inn wakes. Serena, you've got customers to tend to."

"True," Serena sighed, rolling out of bed with a groan, her huge ass swaying as she stood. "Though I'd rather stay and ride that cock again." She winked at Oliver, then sauntered toward the door, her nightdress barely covering her curves.

Oliver watched her go, then turned to Isolde, pulling her close. "You're not off the hook either," he murmured, his hand sliding down to squeeze her ass. "Last night was insane, but I'm not done with you."

She grinned, nipping his earlobe. "Good. But first, let's face the day. Isn't your new 'friend' coming by soon, remember?"

"Shit, right," Oliver muttered, the memory of their agreement snapping him back to reality. He swung his legs off the bed, wincing as his body protested. "Gonna need a bath and a miracle to look presentable."

Downstairs, the inn was just stirring—Serena already behind the counter, her apron tied over her nightdress, serving a bleary-eyed traveler. The clatter of mugs and the smell of fresh bread filled the air, a stark contrast to the night's chaos. Oliver and Isolde descended, cleaned up but still carrying the faint flush of their exploits, drawing a knowing smirk from Serena.

"Morning, lovebirds," she teased, sliding a plate of bread and cheese toward them. "Sleep well?"

"Too well," Oliver shot back, grabbing a piece of bread. "You're a bad influence, landlady."

Isolde chuckled, taking a seat beside him. "She's not wrong. You're distracted today."

Before Oliver could finish, the door opened with a gentle creak. The morning sunlight spilled in, outlining a familiar silhouette.

Ariana stepped inside.

Her auburn hair shimmered as the light caught it, her violet eyes alert and bright. She looked every bit the mage she was — a neat robe of pale blue with silver trimming, a staff strapped to her back. The calm confidence in her posture drew a few glances from the tables nearby.

"Good morning," she greeted warmly, walking toward them. "I hope I'm not too early."

Oliver quickly stood up — or tried to, suppressing the ache that shot through his legs. "Not at all. You're right on time." He gestured between them. "This is Isolde, my party member. Isolde, meet Ariana — the mage I told you about."

Isolde's expression didn't change much, though her gaze sharpened ever so slightly as she studied the girl. Then she smiled politely. "So, you're the one who helped him survive that goblin mess. My thanks — you saved me the trouble of reviving his corpse."

Ariana laughed softly. "No, no — it was him who saved me. I was the one about to die."

"Ha. And that recklessness nearly got him killed," Isolde replied evenly, though her tone carried faint amusement.

Oliver groaned. "And if it ended well, can we not drag it up again?"

"Fine," Isolde said, smirking. "Then let's talk about something useful. I heard you wanted to join our party?"

Ariana nodded, her expression turning serious. "Yes. My previous party was wiped out in that goblin den… I've been looking for a new one since. If you're willing to have me."

Isolde crossed one leg over the other, her demeanor subtly shifting to that of a teacher evaluating a student. "We'll need to see your skills first. If you're as capable as he says, then I have no problem adding you."

"That's only fair," Ariana said easily.

"Good," Isolde said, leaning forward slightly. "So tell me — what's your specialty? Offensive? Elemental?"

Ariana smiled modestly. "Support type. I can use multi-heal, high-grade healing, rejuvenation, stamina and vitality restoration, and some basic buffs — strength boost, speed boost, resistance, that sort of thing."

Serena, who had been pretending not to listen, whistled low. "That's a handy woman to have around. You keep collecting strong ones, Oliver — what's next, a dragon tamer?"

Oliver grinned. "If one shows up, I'll let you know."

Isolde's lips twitched. "Hmm. Support magic, though… that'll be useful. Especially since someone tends to attract trouble like a magnet."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Hey, I don't attract trouble. Trouble just happens to find me."

Isolde leaned back, smirking. "That's exactly what someone who attracts trouble would say."

Then her tone shifted, a little sharper. "But talk is cheap. Let's see if what she says is true or just empty words."

Ariana blinked. "You mean right now?"

Isolde stood up, dusting off her hands. "No better time than the present." She turned to Serena. "We'll borrow the back training yard for a while."

Serena grinned knowingly. "Try not to blow up my fence this time."

"No promises," Isolde replied dryly as she strode toward the rear exit.

Oliver gave Ariana an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, she's not as scary as she looks. Well— most of the time."

"I heard that," Isolde called over her shoulder.

The Training Yard — Behind The Velvet Hearth

The yard was enclosed by a wooden fence, a wide dirt space used by adventurers staying at the inn to practice sword swings or low-level spells. The morning sun had just climbed high enough to cast a warm glow over the area.

Isolde stood in the middle, her white hair glinting in the light, a small smirk curving her lips. "Alright then, Miss Support Mage. Let's see what you can do."

Ariana nodded, taking a few steps forward. "Do you want me to demonstrate my healing spells first?"

"Show me everything," Isolde said. "Start with buffs — then restoration. I want to see efficiency, duration, and how well you control your mana output."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ariana planted her staff into the ground lightly and began to chant. A soft, green glow enveloped Oliver first.

"[Stamina Rejuvenate]."

Instantly, the dull ache in Oliver's body faded, his fatigue evaporating like morning mist. He blinked, surprised. "Whoa. That's… actually really effective."

Before he could comment further, another layer of magic spread across his skin, faint blue patterns shimmering for a second before fading.

"[Speed Boost]."

Oliver flexed his fingers, testing it. "Huh. I feel… lighter."

Isolde nodded, her analytical gaze sharp. "Good control. No wasted mana overflow. Your incantation is concise. You've had real training, haven't you?"

Ariana smiled faintly. "I did study at the Royal Academy… before things went downhill."

"Right," Isolde said flatly, though her tone softened after a beat. "Show me your healing next."

Ariana stepped closer and waved her staff toward Oliver again, focusing. "[High Heal]."

A golden aura enveloped him. The faint scratches left from his earlier sparring vanished instantly, replaced by a soft warmth.

Isolde tilted her head, impressed despite herself. "Advanced-tier healing. You could easily pass for a high-level support mage."

Ariana looked relieved. "So… do I pass the test?"

Isolde crossed her arms. "Not yet. I need to see how you perform under pressure."

"Pressure?"

Isolde snapped her fingers. A sudden burst of mana filled the air — the ground trembled slightly as multiple magic circles appeared around her. "Defensive reaction time. Let's see it."

Ariana's eyes widened. "Wait, what—"

Before she could finish, a burst of wind magic shot toward her.

Ariana barely reacted in time — slamming her staff into the ground, conjuring a shimmering dome of translucent light. The gale struck the barrier and scattered harmlessly.

Oliver's jaw dropped. "You're seriously testing her like that?"

Isolde smiled, unbothered. "Calm down. I'm not using full power."

Ariana exhaled, lowering her barrier slightly — sweat glistening on her brow. "That… was a little warning would've been nice."

Isolde's smirk softened into approval. "Good reflexes. And that barrier — stable, strong core formation, no distortion. You're better than I expected."

"So… that means I pass?" Ariana asked hopefully.

Isolde finally nodded. "Yes. You'll do fine."

Oliver clapped his hands together. "Well, that settles it. Welcome to the party."

Ariana smiled, visibly relieved. "Thank you… I won't let you down."

"You'd better not," Isolde said with mock sternness, though her expression was relaxed now.

Serena's voice called from the back door, "You're done blowing up my backyard yet?"

Oliver grinned. "Almost!"

Isolde turned back to Ariana, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Get ready. Tomorrow, we take our first mission together."

Ariana laughed softly. "I'm looking forward to it."

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