The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 108: The Dungeon Monopoly (And the Dragon Who Wanted More)

Chapter 108: The Dungeon Monopoly (And the Dragon Who Wanted More)

"Of-of course...hehehe...."

Celeste, with no clue who Adil is, melted into the compliment. "Uncle Demond still was the same...ah, just paired with two delicious-looking dumplings."

"Freeze that mouth of yours, or I’ll do it for you." The Witch chortled.

"Can’t blame me~being absolved me of all responsibilities!" Celeste held a bear (the bartender reluctantly brewed) and raised it high. "Cheers for Uncle Demond! You finally find yourself...a...well, two women! Yeah! Never in your 80 years of life, old man!"

"This brat..."

A Dragon held back her chuckle, the Witch’s fingertip glowed an aggressive blue.

"Hm..." The hooded 911 blinked as she examined Celeste. "An...elf?"

"In the flesh, yes!" Celeste dunked the mug before blurping. "Surprised that you know! Wanna see my ears? We are kinda of a lost species for a long time~"

991 glanced away. "No, thank you."

"Aw~and here I thought I could find someone to brag to again..."

Celeste, who was about to brush aside her hair to reveal her ears, purred.

"In any case, glad you’re still doing well." The smiling Witch petted Celeste’s head, who giggled. "At least your sharp tongue still held."

"Hey! I’m not sharp...I use a spear!"

"...I have no idea what you said just now."

"Me neither." The female bartender focused on wiping a glass. "Honoured guests. Are you here to merely visit an old friend in Celeste?"

"Sorta." The Witch leaned back. "There’s no reception here?"

"It’s-"

"It’s Setre’s idea!" Celeste swung her arms. "Wha-cha-ma-call...cough cough."

Celeste took a deep breath. "Adventurers should always be free and unbound, so let us have a drink instead of frustrating over request boards or receptions...RIGHT?! I remember every word of it! Hehe..."

"To laugh at me, yes." Setre dryly chuckles. Clink. Another plate done. "My motto remained, yet it is a mere speech of flair. Many came because of their livelihood. Celeste is the exception."

"I also do! Won’t advancing deeper through the floors yield us more gold?" Celeste pouted. "The Latest gears have dropped in price already! The Nobles are losing interest, so it’s time!"

"The opposite. The Price Drop is because of...well..."

Setre eyed the tavern, then the Dragon.

"Go on," Adrei smirked. Despite many being unaware of her true identity in her human form, the diplomat in her was careful when discussing politics.

"Well, it’s not a secret." Setre chuckled. "Malorne Forsak decided to monopolize the auction of the Dungeon’s items himself. Nobles and the church called it reckless and embezzlement of funds, Malorne simply stated it is for the town."

"Oh?" Adrei held her chin, just as the Witch furrowed. "May I ask for more details?"

"That would need a small fee, but for Celeste’s friends? Take this as a treat." Setre remained expressionless. Clink, another plate to clean.

"In truth, no embezzlement, no corruption. There was a small protest by the nobles, but the auction remained successful. Malorne is a capable governor."

"That’s it?" The Witch’s brows loosened.

"That’s all. May not be much, but you can trust this Guildmaster." Setre nodded. "That man is merely too obsessed with keeping this town alive that he took a risk, and it paid off."

"As expected of that cunning old fox’s brother...is it?"

But why hide the report from Elsara? The Witch tapped her chin. Something is off, but she lacks information.

"Eh~don’t be such a dunce with politics and stuffs~" Celeste hiccuped. "It’s boring, and I like showing swinging instead of just yapping!"

"Keep the Waraker’s spirit, huh?" The Witch pinched Celeste’s grinning cheek. "How are you doing here? Good?"

"Absolutely!" Celeste threw her arms, the empty chug flew away before Setre casually caught it. "The Infinite Dungeon is the best!"

"Not so infinite if you can only reach the 10th floor, huh?"

"That’s because no one wants to party with me anymore..." Celeste pouted. "Deeper floor means more difficulty, and more difficulty means more time, more money, and...more lives sunk. Adventures aren’t as free as you and Setre claimed, after all."

"Do you regret it then?"

"Far from it." Her grin grew larger. "Far from....it..."

Celeste’s head hung.

"Lasted 29 minutes this time, huh?" Setre eyed the closed eyes of the young girl, then turned to the guests. "For my courtesy, here."

She pocketed a few keys with labelled numbers. "Numbers by the rooms upstairs. Room 2 is where Celeste lived, and rooms 5 and 6 are empty for your rest. The former double bed, the latter single."

"Thank you, Miss Setre." The Witch bowed.

"It is my thanks instead." Setre sighed deeply. "Poor girl can’t stop yapping at me about how miserably lonely she is. I’m sure honoured guests...understood what this humble bartender means, right?"

"Of course." Adrei watched as 991 carried Celeste into her arms. "We have our reasons to enter the Infinite Dungeon as well."

"Then you’re fully welcomed here." A rare smile curled up on Setre’s face. "Come to the bar if you need anything. Arrangements are a matter of a few words."

"We’d be glad to receive the patronage." The Witch smiled, extending her arm.

"With pleasure."

A handshake. A gesture of friendship. A gesture of normality.

If only Setre knew how this gesture had started a series of events that would flip the town upside down, she would have asked for payments instead of patronage.

------------

"Ah...finally a proper bed..."

A plop. A squeeze of cheek on the pillow. The Witch hat was now hung on a nearby stand by the caring Husband.

991 dismissed herself by carrying Celeste to her room. So in this double room, only Adrei and Demond remained.

Adrei swooped onto the bed. "We’re partying with Celeste, aren’t we, my wife?"

"Of course." The Witch leaned into the embrace as natural as a bee to a flower. "Ah I forgot to introduce you and 991 in my excitement."

"Care to elaborate more now?"

"Mhm." The Witch’s smile could reach the ceiling. "Celeste Waraker. From an ancient lost Elf tribe after the event of Dragonsong War. Her father, Aragorn Waraker, is the second last party member who joined us before Zero."

"Hm...do you mean the lousy one with a spear that is tinted gold?"

"That’s...his trademark." The smile now grew a little tighter. "He’s a sorta...well there’s no way around it. He’s a little too corny for a teammate, but a damn reliable one."

"Indeed. And I would have assumed an elf would have taken a bow instead of a spear."

"The Waraker Tribe is the exception." The Witch nuzzled her cheeks further. "Strong-armed. Hot-headed. Talkative. A physique that fits a light weapon rather than a heavy one. A spear ended up the deadliest in their hands."

"I would assume his daughter inherited the talkative part." The Dragon carrassed the Witch’s cheek.

"Obviously. Little brat has grown. Even Selene has to learn a thing or two from her." The Witch chuckled as the Dragon’s nail tickled her cheek.

"Adil’s daughter would sulk again with your jest, I’m afraid." Adrei watched in amusement how the Witch giggled under her touch.

"That brat just didn’t refuse to face challenges. She had room for growths, provided she had the guts for it."

A silence. Gazes met each other again.

"Growth..." Adrei chuckled, before her hand crept down. "Would you claim the same for yourself to?"

The Witch’s eyes blinked, then glanced away. "I am pretty experienced myself already, thank you very much."

"Shall we test it then?"

A flip onto her back. A Dragon’s shadow hunched over the Witch’s.

Passionate stare looked down upon the dark blushes.

"Adrei..." The Witch hitched a breath. "I...my lips is still dry..."

"Then I shall keep it moist till our sleep, shan’t I?"

"We still haven’t bathed..."

"We shall after we dirtied ourselves with sweat..."

"And...and..."

The Witch’s finger clung to the Dragon’s waist. "I-I’m just-a tiny, little embarassed..."

"Then allow my shamelessness to envelop your shame, Demond."

The Dragon leaned down, hot breath tickling. "Would you like a warm-up first?"

Adrei’s neck craned, and her lips met the Witch’s neck.

One tap. Two taps. Third is small bite. As gently as a bee when extracting honey.

"Stop...teasing..."

"I won’t." Adrei glanced up as she licked the red mark. "I wish only to leave a trace you won’t forget."

"Cheesy..."

"If only my wife hates it," the Dragon carrassed her blushing cheeks. "I would have have stopped a long time ago."

The draconic gaze threatened to burrow into the Witch’s soul. And Demond...was the one to yield.

"Don’t..." She tilted her head, attempting to hide her blush behind hair locks. "Just...try to be moderate, okay?"

"I would try."

They both knew they would forget this promise.

And so, the Dragon’s lips crashed into hers again, her claw reaching to the collar of the Witch’s robe.

With a fervantness that a hunter would to her prey, she peeled it down.

Tongue darted out and danced. A usual gesture. Something Adrei has been long used to.

...if not for the desperate whimper as her scaled arm reached for the bare skin.