Witch's Embrace

"The Witch's Convent" by DaoistaHADNk

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Hawthorne couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy but quickly shook his head, casting aside the unnecessary thoughts in his mind.

Forget it, I haven't even carved out a future for myself, so how can I afford to think about others!

With a self-deprecating laugh, Hawthorne refocused and continued to look at his attribute panel. The "Warlock" in the occupation column had changed to "Spellblade," but the occupation characteristics hadn't changed much; he had only gained two new abilities: one was the Hexed Warrior he had just acquired, and the other was the Curse of the Spellblade he had learned before.

The effect of "Curse of the Spellblade" is to curse an enemy within thirty meters. After that, each time you hit him, the curse would trigger a resonance, dealing extra damage to the enemy. If the cursed target is killed, the curse would also absorb their vitality and return it to you.

This ability was one he had mastered long ago; with the help of Study and Eyes of the Rune Keeper, he fully understood what Die had explained in less than three weeks and then learned this ability.

However, even after learning this thing, his occupation did not change to Spellblade until today; only after he had fully mastered both the "Hexed Warrior" ability could he finally consider his advancement complete!

In short, his occupation had successfully advanced. He sighed in relief, closed the system interface, and then headed toward the side door.

He intentionally adjusted the position of the building, so the bathroom was right next to the Training Ground. After taking a refreshing shower, he changed his clothes and intended to read in the Study for a bit before having dinner.

However, what he didn't expect was that just as he stepped out of the bathroom, he saw Yuta walking over, respectfully bowing slightly to him: "Hawthorne Priest, Miss Portel is looking for you."

It was their habit that whenever there were outsiders present, regardless of how far away they were, they had to maintain a formal demeanor to avoid revealing any signs.

Upon hearing this, Hawthorne's expression visibly changed: "Why is it that I can't find a moment's peace every single day…"

Since the night he subdued Die, there had been visitors coming to the convent every few days: some were Slum residents looking to sell their houses, some were clerks from the district hall, some were investigators from the Gray Hand team, and then there was Portel...

The first three groups had legitimate reasons for visiting the convent; they were business-like, but Portel, when she came over...

She was purely bored and came to tease Hawthorne!

Every time this woman arrived, she would either stroke his chin, pinch his nose, or last time, directly grab his butt, displaying the mannerisms of a lecherous woman driven by lust, making Hawthorne want to keep his distance from her.

This woman, backed by a big company, received a salary while doing nothing; he, on the other hand, had plenty of things to attend to!

However, he couldn't refuse to host this woman...

Seeing Hawthorne's troubled expression, Yuta came closer, her face growing more serious, a hint of killing intent appearing in her eyes: "Master, should I just..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but the tone of her words was already filled with a chilling intent. In response, Hawthorne waved his hand and firmly refused: "No, no. No matter what, Portel is quite a figure in our district, and she has had quite a bit of contact with us recently."

"If she were to suddenly die, the South Harbor District, which has just calmed down, would probably be thrown into chaos again, and we would surely be among the key suspects."

As he said this, he scratched his head in mild frustration, trying to make his hair look messy and unkempt. Then he added, "It's not worth offending the Amazons over such a trivial matter. I'll go deal with her; sigh, it shouldn't take too long to send her away."

With that, he walked straight toward the door. Yuta stepped aside to clear the way, biting her lower lip slightly as she watched his back, feeling very reluctant: "Master…"

Over there, as Hawthorne reached the entrance, he saw Portel, with bronze skin, towering stature, a fiery figure, and dressed lightly—like a typical Amazon woman who seemed completely unaware of the cold—sitting on a stone stool she must have brought from somewhere, with her strong long legs ungraciously crossed, basking in the sun as she waited for him to approach.

Upon seeing him walk out the door, the woman's bright red lips broke into a warm and radiant smile: "Oh, Hawthorne Priest, you're finally willing to come out and see me instead of guarding those lovely nuns!"

As she spoke, she stood up from the stone stool and walked straight toward him, resembling a hunting lioness approaching a pitiful little rabbit.

Hawthorne instinctively took a half-step back, intimidated by her overwhelming presence. He swallowed hard and mustered his courage: "Miss Portel, I remember… it shouldn't be after work hours yet?"

The Amazon Fisheries Company typically closed at six in the evening, but in such a vigorous company, overtime was often quite severe. After all, securing another deal could mean more money, and employees were happy to work late into the night.

The sun had begun to set in the west, but its rays were still intense. No matter what, it couldn't possibly be the time to finish work yet.

In response, Portel let out a light laugh: "I'm the director of the information department, and coming to check on an old friend's recent situation and gather information is part of my job, after all."

As she said this, she suddenly stepped forward, leaning slightly, her face almost touching his: "Your situation is very important to me."

As she spoke, her warm breath brushed against his face, causing Hawthorne to instinctively take a half-step back, his heart racing: "Uh… I'm just an ordinary priest; I probably am not that important. Do you have any matters to discuss? I still have my work to attend to, so if not, I would kindly ask you to…"

He turned to leave, but Portel immediately grabbed him and pushed him against the wall nearby. Then she suddenly raised her long leg, placing her foot against the wall next to his shoulder—

Bang—

Thus, Hawthorne was pinned against the wall, unable to move.

"Uh…"

Hawthorne turned his head away, trying not to look at her bare foot, which was only wearing one sandal, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple: "This... this isn't very appropriate, Miss Portel. If outsiders see this, they might get suspicious…"

His body was tense, and he was extremely nervous. It wasn't that he hadn't seen women before; it was just that this woman's fierce aura completely suppressed him. Her unabashedly greedy gaze seemed as if it wanted to swallow him whole!

So, with this, Hawthorne could only tremble.

What he didn't realize was that the more he acted this way, the more adorable he appeared to Portel: "I'm not afraid; what are you scared of?"

Her heart raced, filled with an endless desire that burned fiercely within her.