Supreme Magus novel Chapter 3611

"I'm serious. I've never seen her naked. I only heard this story because she asked for my help while trying to figure out a way to control the different muscles in her body.

"She knew Rezars can change the angle of their scales and hoped my technique would work for her as well, and it did. Or so she says." He rushed to add.

"And why is this the first time I hear about this?" Friya tapped her foot in fury.

"Because it was a humiliating experience for Tista, and she asked me to keep it a secret." Nalrond replied with a snort. "Unlike someone I know, I can keep my mouth shut."

"What do you mean?" Now it was Friya's turn to feel pressured.

"I wasn't going to throw it in your face, but since you are asking for it, I will. Someone told Quylla about Mister Longclaw and she told Morok, who in turn told me."

"I can't believe she's such a gossip!" Friya gasped in horror. "It was supposed to be secret."

"Our secret." Nalrond pointed out. "And you betrayed it first by telling it to your sister, Kamila, Selia, and the gods know who else."

"It was a confidence!" She knew how ridiculous her words sounded the moment they escaped her lips. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"As I said, I believe you." Nalrond stood up and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her passionately. "Does this count as an answer?"

"It does." Friya felt the tenderness of his touch and the tension in his lower body.

"Okay. Now that's settled, let's move on to the second point of our agenda. Saving the Agni bloodline from extinction. Can I count on your help?" He asked with a stern tone and a serious expression that made her giggle like a little girl.

"Yes. Anything for you."

***

Verendi Continent, at the same time.

Akhton the Bastet looked at his beloved country and despaired. Over the centuries, the Susha Republic had bloomed and withered since it had been founded almost eight hundred years ago, like a plant facing the passing of seasons.

It had gone through peace, war, revolutions, and attempted coups, but it had always endured. Until now.

Akhton looked at the capital city of Susha, Syndri, as the fires of magic set it ablaze and the cruel blades of the invading army painted it red with the blood of its citizens. The Bastet knew that most of the Verendi continent was in the same situation, but he drew no pleasure or consolation from it.

Akhton had been born 524 years ago in Syndri, back when the Republic was experiencing a golden age that everyone hoped would last forever. The Bastet had left the city when he was barely twenty and Syndri at the apex of its splendor.

Even though the capital had lost most of its beauty in the next three hundred years, Syndri had always held a special place in Akhton's heart. He could still see the bazaar where his mother, Ileza, bought him sweets and taught him the ways of humans.

He could still hear the laughter of the kids playing in the streets and the excited talks about the better future their parents believed was waiting for them. They had been wrong.