Extra: Yandere Milfs Obsessed with me!

At Sky City

This city suspended kilometers above the ground was bathed in filtered sunlight that gave every stone an aura of purity.

The air there was fresh, charged with such a pure concentration of arcanic mana that it seemed to tingle the skin of those who were not used to it. Eleanor wandered through the paved streets, her nonchalant gait inevitably attracting the gazes of the passersby.

She had just left Neon.

Her slender silhouette was molded into a dark fabric corset, tightened by leather straps and silver buckles that highlighted her incredibly thin waist before flaring out over generous hips and round buttocks that rolled with each step with provocative confidence.

Her ebony skin, typical of the dark elves of Babylon, contrasted with her short blond hair, from which a thick lock fell over her face to hide her left eye.

Her right eye, a deep black streaked with golden flecks, swept the surroundings with a cold intensity, ignoring the murmurs of the citizens who stepped aside as she passed. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

In a way, if one stared at her fixedly, one could see a similarity with a certain cowboy.

She headed without hesitation toward the Holy Cathedral, the most imposing building in the city.

The structure was a masterpiece of white marble and gold, a fortress of faith that dominated the entire urban landscape. As she approached the massive doors, Eleanor noted the presence of many believers coming and going, their faces marked with a devotion she personally found pathetic.

’Look at these idiots worshipping a whore,’ she thought while involuntarily listening to the conversation of two faithful.

The Paladins of the cathedral, recognizable by their sparkling armors marked with the sacred seal, patrolled with martial regularity, their gazes scrutinizing every corner of the environment.

Eleanor crossed the threshold without slowing down. The interior was vast, flooded with light from the high stained-glass windows that drew multicolored shapes on the black marble floor veined with gray.

Massive columns supported vaults adorned with celestial frescoes representing the miracles of the Seraphs and the victories of the Millennial War. Everything here reeked of extreme narcissism.

The air was saturated with the smell of incense, a perfume that seemed to want to numb the minds of the faithful. She crossed the nave, ignoring the rows of benches where commoners prayed for a better life after death, alienated by the teachings of the Church.

She headed directly toward the back of the building, where access was normally forbidden to ordinary mortals: the Holy Place. The guards posted in front of the entrance hesitated for a moment upon seeing this dark elf advancing with such audacity, but the pressure of her aura, dense and charged with mana, instinctively forced them to get on their guard but just before they could react.

"Enough! She is my guest,"

The soft but authoritative voice of Her Holiness rang out, stopping them dead in their movement. An expression of embarrassment suddenly appeared on their faces as they apologized.

Eleanor paid no attention to that and entered the holy place, a space where the atmosphere changed radically. Here, the arcanic mana was so concentrated that it formed a luminescent mist floating in thick swirls, making the air almost liquid.

In the center of this circular room stood the Saint. She was seated with an ethereal grace, protected from direct gazes by a long translucent silk veil stretched between two pillars of marble veined with gold.

Even through the fabric, her slender and sculptural silhouette was perfectly discernible, evoking a divinity descended among men. The most striking detail was her hair: long golden filaments, so shiny that they seemed woven from threads of liquid sunlight, escaped from under her veil to cascade to the floor in a perfect waterfall.

Eleanor stopped a few steps from the veil, her heterochromatic eyes fixing the indistinct shape behind the fabric. She showed no mark of respect, did not kneel as Julius Dantalion did at each visit, and kept an upright posture, almost provocative.

"So, Siel... Still hiding behind your silk curtains?" Eleanor launched in a drawling voice, tinged with a hint of mockery.

A slight shiver ran through the golden filaments of the Saint, as if an invisible breath had just agitated them. Her voice, soft but imbued with millennial authority, resonated directly in Eleanor’s mind.

"Elisabeth... Your insolence remains the only unchanging thing in this perpetually changing world," she replied, using a name that the dark elf had not heard for an eternity.

Her Holiness turned her head imperceptibly, her hidden gaze seeming to probe the soul of her interlocutor.

"So you have obtained what we coveted so much? The grimoire... the Key of Saint Peter?" she asked, her tone becoming slightly more insistent.

Eleanor sketched a mocking smile, the one she always wore when she knew she was in a position of strength. She plunged her hand into a hidden pocket of her corset and took out an ancient-looking book, whose cover seemed to absorb the arcanic light of the room. She twirled it negligently between her fingers.

"It is here. The legendary grimoire capable of opening the gates of paradise and summoning the celestial armies," she declared while looking at the object. "I have fulfilled my part of the deal, despite the risks. You should do the same, my beautiful Saintess."

At these words, the silhouette behind the veil froze. A heavy silence settled, broken only by the distant crackling of the mana that saturated the space. Then, Eleanor saw the veil stir gently as the Saint sketched a smile...

"You are impatient, Elisabeth. But loyalty and efficiency deserve to be rewarded," murmured Siel while contemplating the object in the woman’s hands.

She knew the kind of person Eleanor was, or rather Elisabeth, she also knew the dangers it could represent for her to fulfill her part of the deal.

The deal Eleanor was talking about was nothing ordinary. What she demanded in exchange for the Key of Saint Peter was a sample of the purest and most forbidden substance in this world: a little of the Saint’s own blood. For a witch from the Tower of Babylon, expert in DNA manipulation and organ grafts, this blood was an invaluable resource.

Eleanor watched Siel raise a delicate hand behind the veil, ready to seal their dark pact, while the shadows of the cathedral seemed to stretch toward them. She knew that this blood would not serve only her personal research; it was the final ingredient for those projects she had been following for decades... Obviously she was not only in her twenties, she was older... Much older...

"Do it now, Siel. Before your faithful paladins realize that a heretic has soiled their Holy Place with the blood of their Saintess..."