Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 99: Eclipse’s first attack

Chapter 99: Eclipse’s first attack

He slammed into her, his rod filling her, her moan loud, desperate, her cave clenching, the bed rocking with his thrusts, his pace relentless, her legs trembling on his shoulders, her golden hair wild across the pillow, the orbs’ faint hum a distant pulse.

"Oh, fuck, Alex!" Sylra moaned, her voice breaking, her cave pulsing around his rod, his thrusts deep, steady, her moans a frantic rhythm—high, needy, filling the room.

"Don’t stop," she gasped, her hands reaching for him, nails digging into his arms, her body arching, the lamp’s light casting her flushed face in stark relief, her climax building again, her moans peaking, raw, her cave clenching as she came, her body shuddering, her moan echoing, long and satisfied, her golden hair a tangled halo.

Alex groaned, his voice rough, his rod throbbing, her cave’s heat pushing him over the edge, his thrusts faltering as his climax hit, his moan deep, ragged, his release intense, the room’s warmth holding their shared high, the bed creaking one last time as he slowed, her legs sliding off his shoulders, her body soft, spent, the cedar scent grounding their moment.

He collapsed beside her, breaths heavy, his grin lazy, her golden hair brushing his shoulder, the lamp’s glow casting their flushed faces in soft light, the hold’s quiet a world apart from Starhaven’s bustle.

A sharp chime rang in Alex’s mind, the system’s voice crisp: [1 lustful session, +20xp].

Sylra glanced at the window, her golden hair catching the soft glow of the crystal lamp, she saw that the day was already darkening slightly.

"Oh no!" She said and sat up, straightening her tunic, her voice a little shark "I need to head out," she said, a quick smile flashing, her hands smoothing her hair. "I have assignments to do."

Alex groaned, his body heavy with post-climax fatigue, but he hauled himself up, his red eyes blinking as he rubbed his neck,

"Yeah, I’ll walk you," he said, his voice low, a lazy grin spreading, the heat of their moment lingering like a spark.

They dressed quickly, Sylra slipping into her pants and tunic, Alex pulling on his clothes, the air cool against their skin, their movements swift but easy

They headed downstairs, the Elaris hold’s foyer softly lit, stained-glass windows casting violet hues across the stone floor.

Stepping outside, the night air was crisp, the hold’s shimmering gardens quiet under starlight, the market’s distant glow drawing them forward.

As they left, Alex caught Inolda’s sharp gaze from a window, her silhouette stark against the hold’s warm light, her expression unreadable but heavy, a fleeting shadow in the night.

He brushed it off, his focus on Sylra, her golden hair swaying as they walked, the cobblestone path crunching under their boots, the market’s hum growing, vendors’ calls, laughter, the scent of grilled spices and nectar filling the air.

They reached the market’s edge, stalls aglow with orbs, elves bustling with baskets, when Sylra stopped short, her hand grabbing Alex’s arm, her grip firm.

"Wait," she said, her voice low, urgent, her golden hair catching the orb-light as she scanned the crowd, her body tensing, picking up on a wrongness in the air, the market’s pulse suddenly sharp. "Something is wrong"

Before Alex could speak, she pulled him sideways, yanking him into a dark, shuttered shop, its interior cluttered with crates and dusty shelves, the air thick with old wood and wax.

They stumbled, crashing into each other, Alex’s shoulder hitting a crate, Sylra’s golden hair tangling as they hit the floor, their breaths quick in the cramped space, the market’s noise muffled through the walls.

A massive explosion shook the shop, the ground lurching, heat and thick smoke flooding through the door, screams erupting outside, the air heavy with ash and panic.

Alex coughed, his eyes burning, his hand finding Sylra’s, their bodies pressed low, the shop’s shadows hiding them, the heat intense, screams piercing, elves shouting, sobbing, running.

Shelves rattled, crates shifted, the stench of charred stone choking, the market’s chaos roaring beyond.

"What the hell was that?" Alex whispered, his voice rough, squinting through the smoke, his heart racing, the system’s hum a faint anchor, the shop’s darkness a thin shield.

Sylra’s whisper was steady, her golden hair brushing his cheek as she leaned close, her body poised.

"I don’t know," she said, her voice calm but taut, her hand squeezing his, her other braced on the floor, smoke swirling, screams a chaotic backdrop, the heat pressing in.

She slid in front of him, shielding him from the door, her stance ready, her golden hair a faint gleam, the shop’s clutter a maze.

Alex bristled, his voice low. "I can handle myself you know ," he said, fingers flexing, the system flickering as he activated Inflicting, power surging, the smoke stinging, screams relentless.

"Oh be quiet ," Sylra said, her voice firm, no-nonsense, her focus on the door, smoke curling in, heat heavy. "I’m a higher level elf , Alex, I’ll take care of us."

Her tone was protective, unwavering, her readiness cutting through the chaos, the shop’s shadows a tense haven.

Footsteps crunched outside, heavy, deliberate, voices slicing through the screams, a man’s gruff tone, a woman’s sharp one, their words fragmented. "Where’d they go?" the man growled, boots scraping debris.

"Swear I saw them," the woman snapped, annoyed. "This damn smoke’s a pain," the man muttered, their voices nearing, footsteps louder, the shop’s door a flimsy barrier, smoke thickening, screams softening into panic.

Alex and Sylra stayed low, breaths shallow, muscles tense, Inflicting humming in Alex’s veins, Sylra’s hand gripping his, her golden hair brushing his arm, the shop’s shadows their cover.

The footsteps closed in, boots just outside, voices hushed, searching, the tension razor-sharp, smoke choking, heat unbearable.

Then, slowly, the footsteps faded, voices trailing off, a fragile calm settling, the screams quieting, the market’s chaos ebbing.

Minutes later, the smoke thinned, starlight piercing the shop’s cracked windows, the air still heavy but breathable, ash lingering.

Alex and Sylra stepped out, boots crunching on debris, the market’s devastation stark under flickering orb-light.

A deep, blackened trench scarred the road’s center, surrounded by shattered stalls and collapsed buildings, wood splintered, glass scattered.

Injured elves groaned, some aided by survivors, their faces smudged, clothes torn, the air thick with grief, the market’s vibrancy crushed.

Alex’s gaze snagged on a tattered banner hanging on a half-ruined wall, its words bold:

Eclipse: the change is now.