Black Sun was a Prime Guild—Rank II—one of the oldest in Gatehaven. Their long history was filled with records of victories in S-Rank Dungeon Raids, and their reputation was usually enough to make other guilds keep their distance.
However, today, inside the main meeting hall of their own guild building, that respect was completely absent.
At the head of the long table sat a woman with soft golden hair that fell like strands of light. Her golden eyes reflected a cold gleam, and every time her gaze shifted, the ten people before her tensed as if the very air in the room was thinning. The aura she emitted seemed to make the floorboards groan softly.
She was Delilah, the Star Witch.
Orville Rutherford—a middle-aged man with black hair beginning to gray at the temples—stood at the very front. Partly because of his status as Master of the Black Sun Guild, and partly because Delilah had earlier ordered everyone else to step back from him.
Orville's face was strained, sweat streamed from his temples, and he couldn't even keep his voice steady.
"I-I will do everything… everything as you command, Lady Star Witch," he stammered. "And Alex… my son, I will make sure he apologizes sincerely to your son. He will receive appropriate punishment for his insolence."
Delilah leaned back in her chair. Her movement seemed relaxed, but it only thickened the tension in the room.
"Make sure you do," she said slowly, yet every word felt like a threatening incantation rumbling in the depths of the heart. "Because if not… I will destroy your guild down to its very roots."
No one dared to breathe too loudly. The ticking of the wall clock echoed, far louder than usual. Some of Black Sun's executives bowed their heads even lower, as if hoping their own shadows could hide their existence.
.
.
.
After the impromptu meeting with the guild leaders about the mysterious structure discovered in the south, I was now in Ruth's car heading towards the Hunter Trade District. My goal: to buy something to suppress this raging libido.
Throughout the ride, my mind was filled with internal conflict. I'd been trying to hold back, but the temptation was so strong and distracting. How could I think clearly when my body was constantly screaming with lust? Especially right now, with Ruth sitting next to me driving with intense focus.
She wore a simple black hoodie and tight jeans that perfectly outlined her curves. Her casual yet elegant look made her strikingly beautiful. Her dark blue hair, usually tied loosely, was now partly undone, adding to the mysterious air that always surrounded her.
She wasn't beautiful in a sweet way like Angeline, or sensual like Delilah. Her beauty was sharp. Like a freshly honed sword—shining, dangerous, and lethal.
And down below, between my thighs, my cock throbbed viciously, hard to the point of pain beneath the fabric of my pants. This cursed arousal burned through every corner of my mind.
My gaze wouldn't leave her upright profile, then drifted down to her slender neck, then to the hands gripping the steering wheel. I imagined parking this car somewhere secluded. I imagined hitting the button to lower her seat, pushing her slim body back, ripping those tight jeans, and…
'Damn it,' I cursed inwardly, trying to turn my face toward the window. But the glass reflection just showed an image of the two of us, which didn't help at all.
I could do it, of course. With [Time Stop] and my cheat skills, I could have her whenever I wanted. But for some reason, with this woman, I didn't want it to end with her just becoming a sex slave like the others.
Why was it different with her? With Gwenneth, with Delilah, even with Charlotte—there was no hesitation. I wanted them. I took them. I dominated them. But Ruth… something was different.
Maybe because she was exactly the kind of woman I liked most. And, above all, she was stunning—beautiful in a cool, confident way—and she had never looked down on me or treated me poorly.
This strange feeling… was this… respect? Or perhaps a different kind of attraction? Not just wanting to sleep with her, but wanting to conquer her in a different way. I didn't want her to just be an obedient slave. I wanted… her to stay Ruth.
Those thoughts spun wildly, growing hotter from the pressure in my groin.
"Adam," Ruth's voice cut through my reverie. She glanced over briefly, her sharp eyes scanning my face. "You okay? Your face has been flushed for a while."
"Ah, yeah. I'm fine," I answered quickly, trying to hide my restlessness. "Just… a bit hot in the car."
Ruth raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but she didn't press further.
Instead, I changed the subject.
"By the way, what about the progress on your investigation into the person who killed your father? Any developments?"
Ruth looked at me through the rearview mirror, her expression turning more serious. "Why the sudden interest? Do you feel like you're being followed or have met anyone suspicious?"
"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Just curious. So far, while I've been acting as the Iron Knight, everything's gone smoothly. No strange people have approached me or anything. So I was wondering… did you already catch the killer and deal with them quietly?"
Ruth let out a small, scoffing laugh.
"If only it were that easy." She paused for a moment, then continued, "But it is strange. The killer hasn't reappeared even though they've seen the Iron Knight is still alive. Why do you think that is?"
I took a breath, trying to concentrate even though blood was still rushing powerfully to my lower body. "Maybe… because they know."
"Know what?"
"That the real Iron Knight is already dead," I replied, looking straight into her eyes. "They're the one who killed him. So when a new Iron Knight appears, they don't care. Because they know it's just a replacement. A puppet. No point hunting it down again."
Ruth was silent for a very long time. Only the sound of the engine and the song from the radio filled the cabin. Then, very slowly, the corners of her thin lips turned up, forming a small smile that held no warmth at all.
"That… makes sense," she murmured softly.
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