Chapter 521: Chapter 392 The Taste of a Witch... Wait, What Kind of Development Is This?

「One minute ago.」

After taking a bath tonight, Violet changed into a white silk nightgown, a couple’s set matching Byron’s. Her delicate, bare feet, with brightly painted blue toenails, slipped into a pair of pomelo wood slippers as she returned early to her bedroom. The room, nearly transformed into a laboratory, was where she continued her work.

She was working through the night, researching and analyzing the Whale Oil technology extracted from Bonaparte’s mind.

Her main focus wasn’t on the core of the Whale Oil revolution, the "Whale Oil Power Furnace"—that wasn’t her area of expertise—but rather on another subject: "Whale Oil Military Technology."

Her project on "Fulminate of Mercury," previously assigned by Byron, had encountered difficulties. Its stability wasn’t up to par, and she had yet to achieve any results.

Stimulated by Jacqueline’s exclusive BGM, "Katyusha," she was also eager to make a breakthrough from another angle: to create something that would complement this auxiliary battle song, achieving the dream effect Byron described as invincible with my exclusive background music.

Moreover, as a Gunsmith on the verge of promotion, Violet knew that a breakthrough in military technology could allow her to advance to the Fourth Order on the spot.

Under the light of the Whale Oil Lamp, her shimmering silver hair was tied into a cute bun at the back of her head, and tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose. Her sparkling eyes, as adorable and harmless as a deer’s, starkly contrasted with the words that revealed her identity as the Calamity Witch:

"The technology tree of Whale Oil technology is just like the ranks of the Ladder of Glory, split into many paths.

Even though we are at the forefront, having the advantage of early access, one’s personal energy is limited. Choosing which path to climb is of the utmost importance.

If one chooses the wrong path, decades of effort might go down the drain.

Besides, if military technologies are developed well, isn’t our neighbors’ technology also my technology?

Let me say, the new title they’re using for Byron should also be changed.

A pioneer of the whale oil power revolution? Wrong!

A pioneer of the whale oil military revolution? Right! Hehe..."

Under the bright light, the girl’s white nightgown took on a misty, semi-transparent quality, outlining her figure in a delightfully perfect silhouette.

Simply admiring her back view was a supreme delight. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Suddenly, a sea breeze blew in from the window. It seemed the experimental equipment sourced from the island was of questionable quality, as a test tube clamp suddenly loosened.

Violet, perhaps too engrossed, failed to notice in time. By the time she realized, it was almost too late to do anything herself, so she instinctively... pinched her own ears.

Another gust of wind then blew in from the window.

THUD! Byron, lunging forward in an almost prostrate position, successfully caught the falling test tube before it hit the ground.

PHEW!

He let out a long breath and climbed back up from the floor.

Immediately afterward, he was surprised to find the test tube contained a completely colorless, transparent, and somewhat sparkling clear liquid—clearly not the dangerous Whale Oil.

Just as he was about to bring it to his nose to smell, the Sailing Logbook indicated that this was saliva from Violet in her Whale Girl form, so he hastily stopped his action.

Turning his head, he saw other test tubes on the table containing blood, seawater, lard from the ship, and a bottle containing several fat-sucking mosquitoes and leeches. She was clearly conducting comparative experiments in preparation for a future painless oil extraction technique.

Seeing the tense expression on his face, Violet lowered the small hand pinching her ear and giggled.

"You didn’t think I was making explosives in my bedroom, did you?

Alright, alright, relax. Like you, I’m scared to death too. How could I possibly do something so crazy?"

Byron stepped forward, carefully replaced the test tube, then playfully tapped the girl’s upturned nose with his finger.

He truly had been scared by those groups of "mad scientists."

Glancing at the thick stack of research notes on the table, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her relentless, sleep-depriving work ethic.

He gently wrapped his arms around the girl’s seemingly delicate waist—which was actually as strong as steel—and looked into her eyes with concern.

"My dear lady, you can take your research slowly. If it doesn’t work out, we can just go and steal it. But what will we do if you wear yourself out?

If the Whale Hunter saw you, he might think I was exploiting your labor.

You don’t need to work so hard; I’m always here for you."

Seeing Byron’s handsome face so close, Violet stuck out her sweet pink tongue at him and laughed, her eyes curving like crescents.

"Because the things I like are expensive, the places I want to go are far away, and the person I love is super perfect!

I’m three years older than you and two years older than Catherine. Catherine and I clearly agreed to be your older sisters and protect you with double the love.

But after all we’ve been through together, it’s always been you protecting us.

Even though my thighs aren’t thick enough for you to hug, I don’t want to hold you back.

Looks alone won’t feed me, and I don’t have many other skills. Only Alchemy is something I’m decent at. How could I not try hard to catch up with you?

I must become a Tier 4 Hero Artisan before you, so this time, I can be the one to protect you!"

Byron actually wanted to say: Although your thighs aren’t thick, you have... many of them! Eight legs, all in black and white ripped stockings—I’d like that even more.

Yet, when their eyes met, he caught a whiff of the fresh and pleasant scent of gardenia from the girl. He suddenly found his mouth dry and his tongue stiff.

In the past, burdened by a deep-seated blood feud, Byron hadn’t been in much of a mood for romance.

But now that he had successfully retrieved the Blue Dragon King from the belly of the Old Gods, a great weight had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders.

In such a state, a strapping young man of about eighteen or nineteen with a non-human physique would be abnormal if he didn’t have some amorous thoughts.

He’d be almost like that Incompetent one from the Kingdom of Castile.

Thus, he suddenly found this Little Witch—so spiritually attuned to him, with whom he had faced life and death many times—incredibly alluring, a fragrance that emanated from her very core.

However, Miss Witch clearly found him even more alluring!

A deep blue tentacle crept out from underneath the girl’s nightgown, quietly wrapping around his steel-hard calf and caressing it gently.

GULP!

Byron’s body shuddered, and he couldn’t help but swallow hard.

He saw Violet’s deep blue, star-like eyes slightly hazed as she teasingly breathed into his ear like an orchid’s fragrance.

"Byron, Big Sister wants to treat you to a shot of tequila. Want one?"

His throat was parched, and he thought a drink to cool his ardor wouldn’t be bad. He was still looking around dumbly.

"Tequila? It’s a bit strong, and I haven’t seen any here... Mmph."

The next moment, Violet’s arms, as white as jade, wrapped around his neck. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her cherry-pink, translucent lips against his, silencing him.

There was, of course, no tequila in Violet’s room, but on the root of her tongue was a tequila-shaped Curse Seal: ’Eloquent Words.’

More intoxicating than any fine wine.

Byron reacted quickly, his hands immediately scooping up his beloved girl, supporting her beneath her hips, elevating her to his eye level.

The girl looked delicate and slender, but only when holding her close could one truly appreciate what ’thin where it should be thin, plump where it should be plump’ meant; the touch was wonderfully sublime.

After Violet’s bloodline ascension, her figure had matured unexpectedly, yet her height hadn’t changed much, remaining at only 165 cm.

As long as she didn’t assume her Whale Girl form, she was shorter than Byron by more than a head. As he picked her up and kissed her, her feet suddenly left the ground. Her translucent toes involuntarily straightened, and her pair of pomelo wood slippers CLATTERED to the floor.

Her heartbeat sped up in an instant, feeling as if all her strength was being drained by Byron, this Prince of Night Demons.

However, after a moment, using her own ’Eloquent Words,’ she turned the tables, making Byron’s eyes widen involuntarily.

Too busy with their mouths, they were reluctant to let their first kiss end too quickly, and their Spiritual Radiance mingled.

Violet’s somewhat puzzled voice then resonated in Byron’s mind:

Byron, you’re not using your ’White Frost’ anymore, are you?

Byron was also confused. Why would the girl suddenly ask about the utterly irrelevant ’White Frost’ when they were in the middle of something important?

No, I’m not. Why?

The girl seemed a bit uncomfortable and wiggled her body.

"The hilt of your sword is poking me, and it’s getting worse."

What sword hilt...

Confused, the two reluctantly parted their lips. Under the bright Whale Oil Lamp, a glistening thread of saliva still connected the corners of their mouths, both their cheeks inevitably blushing.

They looked down slowly together.

"AH—!"

Having just shared their first kiss, the young couple, though they had spent considerable time together, had never gone beyond holding hands and hugging—and that too mostly during battle, with little amorous feeling.

This time was evidently different.

Violet instinctively let out a soft exclamation.

Yet, she truly lived up to her title of Bay Citizen Princess, her courage far surpassing that of sheltered noblewomen.

Though her flawless, jade-like face burned with a crimson blush, she was not only unafraid, but her bright, large eyes also held a hint of eagerness.

She looked up into Byron’s eyes, regaining the icy beauty demeanor she showed to outsiders, and said seriously:

"Byron, for a sailor to perform his duties properly, he needs to master at least fifty different knotting techniques to quickly repair damaged rigging during battle.

In battlefields where dark clouds obscure even moonlight, lighting lamps is out of the question, so this skill also has to be honed to the point where one could disassemble and reassemble firearms blindfolded.

A day without practice, hands and feet grow clumsy; two days without, skill is halved; three days without, you become a rank amateur.

We need to practice this skill frequently in the future.

So, how about we start tonight?"

As she spoke, the tentacles from beneath her skirt not only didn’t loosen their grip on Byron but also multiplied, coiling tighter and sliding slowly up his pant leg.

Side effect of ’Prince of Night Demons’: "You will exert a powerful attraction on certain Humans, non-Humans, Bizarre entities, and Evil Spirits. This is equivalent to a reverse Succubus constitution. During intimate interactions with a partner of the opposite sex, you will gradually strengthen their Life Essence, leading to a series of miraculous effects such as perpetual youth, enhanced physique, and spiritual growth... If your partner lacks strong willpower, they are highly likely to become insatiable, developing an urge to completely drain you. In short, your scent is incredibly nourishing; it’s simply to die for!"

That’s what the Sailing Logbook said, and Miss Violet, the Witch, clearly felt the same at this moment.

While she maintained a serious expression, her deep blue eyes twinkled like stars, with a faint, seductive pink glimmering through.

Byron swallowed hard. The Witch’s taste still lingered on his lips and in his mouth, tantalizing, but the situation had suddenly escalated far beyond his expectations.

Are we going for something this thrilling right off the bat?

Although he wasn’t averse to getting closer to Violet—or rather, after their relationship was confirmed, he had been particularly looking forward to this day.

But to escalate this much, right off the bat? Fifty kinds of knot-tying techniques? And it seemed he was the one about to be trussed up in fifty ways. Byron felt he wasn’t quite ready yet.

This wasn’t just a Tentacle Girl; this was clearly a spider’s den.

He might just be devoured, bone and marrow, by Miss Violet the Witch tonight.

The days of clutching his aching back, muttering, "UGH... HISS... HISS..." seemed to be beckoning him.

Just as Byron hesitated, wondering whether to resist or to indulge...

WOOF! WOOF!

Suddenly, two deep, wolf-like barks echoed from the shadows.

Byron’s expression turned serious. He quickly caught Violet’s small hands, which had begun to wander over his sturdy chest.

"Let’s pause for a moment. We have uninvited guests on the island!"