Oh, Iyer! Iyerpol! – Chapter 48

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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A soft sigh escaped her lips as the girl, her damp hair wrapped in a towel, emerged from the bathroom.

Steam billowed out behind her.

Beads of sweat clung to her skin, and her pale complexion was flushed a delicate pink.

Normally concealed beneath her leather armor, her naked form was surprisingly delicate, like a finely crafted porcelain doll.

A certain blind young man had once remarked that she resembled a swift animal in her armor, but stripped bare, her arms were slender, her waist narrow.

Perhaps it was a characteristic of the Dragonewt race.

She seemed too fragile to possess the superhuman strength they were known for.

Only the faint outline of abdominal muscles hinted at her rigorous training.

And above her waist, unexpectedly full breasts defied expectations, a volume hidden beneath her usual attire.

If she were to walk around like this, she would undoubtedly draw the attention of every man she passed.

She bent, meticulously drying her body with the towel, the fabric becoming damp with sweat and residual water.

Once dry, Guinness slipped into a thin cotton outfit, a simple short-sleeved shirt and shorts meant for lounging in her room.

The mirror reflected the image of a young woman in her late teens, her development well underway.

The only unusual features were the magnificent horns adorning her head and the tail swaying gently behind her.

Satisfied with her appearance, she began drying her hair with the towel, turning to head back to her room.

But her steps faltered as she reached the staircase leading down to the first floor.

She hesitated, then turned, descending the stairs towards the dining area.

There, at the entrance, she encountered the young man with the black cloth covering his eyes.

“Iyerpol.”

“Guinness. You’ve finished your bath.”

His face was slightly flushed, suggesting he, too, had just bathed.

Guinness averted her gaze.

Since acknowledging the feelings she held for him, looking directly at his face had become difficult.

Fortunately, her own flushed cheeks were easily attributed to the bath.

He wouldn’t know the true reason for her blush.

“What brings you to the dining area?”

“Just… because.”

Because I hoped to see you here.

She swallowed the words, unable to voice the truth.

He seemed unconcerned, a fact that stung slightly.

“What about you?”

“I wanted a pleasant drink before bed.”

True to his words, he held a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other.

He’d intended to return to his room and drink alone.

Seeming to sense her gaze on the bottle, he lifted it slightly, a smile touching his lips.

“Would you like a drink, Guinness?”

“What?”

“Haha, just kidding.”

He laughed, dismissing his offer when she didn’t immediately reply.

He turned to the counter, selecting a snack to accompany his wine.

If she didn’t speak now, he would leave.

And then… she would return to her room, and tomorrow, they would resume their journey in the carriage, the three of them together, yet apart.

Her hands clenched and unclenched, betraying her inner turmoil.

Then, with a newfound resolve, she closed her fists.

“I’ll have a drink.”

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An impromptu drinking session commenced.

The snack was chopped walnuts, the drink a local wine from the innkeeper’s hometown.

They sat on a small, two-person sofa in the dining area, a window open to the cool night air.

The sofa was old and creaky, but its small size brought them closer than usual.

The conversation flowed easily, Iyer leading and Guinness responding.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“What is it?”

“You said you came on this expedition because you owed Wagner a favor. What kind of favor?”

Guinness’s mind flashed back to the incident with Wagner, a wave of shame washing over her.

She’d never considered it embarrassing before, but now, facing him, the words wouldn’t come.

His silent, expectant smile only added to the pressure.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

“I got into a fight with an adventurer from out of town…”

“And?”

“I… knocked him out…”

“Ah, you knocked him out.”

It wasn’t just the adventurer.

She’d also taken down the guards who’d tried to intervene, and even their captain.

But she couldn’t bring herself to admit the full extent of the brawl.

“It almost went to trial…”

Normally, her reputation for dealing with thugs earned her leniency.

But attacking the city guard, protectors of Tillasden and affiliated with the Feiler family, was a different matter.

She’d been on the verge of being arrested.

“Wagner intervened on my behalf. Saved me from a jail cell.”

“Sounds like something you and Wagner would do.”

Iyer chuckled, finding the story amusing.

Guinness covered her face with her hand, embarrassed.

She hadn’t wanted to share this with him.

As the night deepened, their conversation grew more intimate.

They refilled each other’s glasses, the number of shared drinks increasing.

“So that’s how you became an adventurer?”

“Pretty much. I grew up near the mountains, so hunting came naturally. Being an adventurer suited me. I traveled around, met Wagner, and settled in Tillasden.”

“Me too.”

“How did you end up here, Guinness? I thought Dragonewts lived far from Kalak.”

Guinness’s hand froze mid-pour.

He’d asked this before, by the river.

Back then, he’d been a stranger.

Now…

She hugged her knees, burying her face.

After a long silence, she spoke.

“I was raised by a human noble, from a very young age.”

“A human… noble?”

“It was a fad back then. Raising young Ains and beastmen.”

It had been a twisted trend among the nobility, raising children from other races until adulthood, ensuring their complete loyalty.

These children, knowing no other world, would naturally obey their noble masters, providing valuable and devoted servants.

Guinness had been one such victim.

Once she started, the words flowed freely.

The forced education, the brutal punishments for failing to understand, the ten years confined to a tiny room…

Iyer listened silently, unable to offer his usual playful responses.

The strange thing was, despite reliving these painful memories, she felt a sense of joy, knowing he was listening, that he cared.

“Even for a Dragonewt, childhood trauma leaves scars.”

She looked at Iyer, her face half-hidden behind her knees, and slowly lifted her shirt.

“Want to see…?”

“If you’re comfortable.”

She pulled her shirt up, revealing smooth, pale skin.

Then, turning her back, she exposed the horrific scars that covered nearly half of it.

Whip marks.

Iyer stared, speechless, then reached out, his hand gently tracing the scars.

“I’m sorry, Guinness.”

He apologized, though he’d done nothing wrong.

It was this kindness that drew her to him.

She imagined his eyes, hidden behind the cloth, filled with sadness.

“Iyerpol.”

They were close, their bodies almost touching as he examined her back.

Guinness reached up, her hands gently cupping his face, feeling the soft hair and the rough texture of the cloth.

“Can I… remove this?”

Her voice was hesitant, afraid of rejection.

She had opened her heart to him, but she didn’t know if he felt the same.

To her relief, he didn’t resist.

A simple nod gave her permission.

She carefully traced the edges of the cloth, her fingers finding the tightly tied knot at the back of his head.

With the delicate touch of someone handling fragile glass, she untied the knot…

The black cloth fluttered to the floor.

“Iyerpol…”

She’d heard rumors.

That he wore the cloth to hide the horrific scars on his face.

The rumors were true.

Multiple, deep gashes marred his eyelids, the malice behind them palpable.

But instead of pity, she felt a sense of kinship, a shared experience of pain.

“Poor Iyerpol…”

She leaned closer, wanting a better look.

They were so close, she could feel his breath on her skin.

She was practically on top of him, her fingers gently tracing the scars.

His pain, her pain.

The shared experience felt like destiny.

For the first time, she felt a strange affection for the scars on her own back.

Her face drew closer.

Close enough to feel his breath, close enough for their noses to touch, close enough for their eyelids to brush.

Gently, she pressed her lips to the scarred skin above his eyes.

A strange, unfamiliar sensation.

Foreign, yet warm.

She pulled back, then kissed him again, her lips moving from his eyelids to the bridge of his nose, then to his cheek.

Soft, almost illicit sounds filled the room.

Her lips continued their descent, finally settling on his.

A silent kiss.

Not a passionate embrace, not a hungry exploration, but a simple acknowledgment of each other’s presence.

A shared moment of quiet intimacy.

It felt like an eternity, though she couldn’t be sure how much time had passed.

The rough, warm feel of his lips against hers, a sensation she couldn’t forget.

Finally, she pulled away.

“I’m sorry… if you didn’t want that.”

“Guinness…”

She opened her eyes, a sad smile touching her lips.

He couldn’t see her expression, his eyes still closed, but she sensed his unease.

Her joy, his unease.

The disparity in their emotions saddened her.

She wanted him to feel the same.

“It was a mistake… Forget it.”

She was on the verge of tears, but it was alright.

He couldn’t see.

Fighting back the tears, she pulled away.

Or tried to.

His hand gently cupped the back of her head, holding her in place.

“I… Iyer…”

He held her wrist with one hand, his other hand still cradling her head, and drew her closer.

Before she could speak, his lips met hers again.

This time, it was he who initiated the kiss.

And this time, it was different.

Not a gentle press of lips, but a deep, passionate kiss.

He held her firmly, his lips exploring hers with a newfound hunger.

He licked her upper lip, nibbled gently, then slipped his tongue between her lips, searching, exploring.

Her tongue met his, entwining, responding.

Her hands found their way to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

They clung to each other, lost in the moment.

She was lying on the sofa now, he hovering above her.

Like travelers lost in the desert, they sought solace in each other’s embrace.

“Iyerpol…”

“Guinness.”

Their lips parted, a thin strand of saliva connecting them.

Her arms still wrapped around his neck, she spoke, her voice trembling.

“Is it… alright… even if it’s me…?”

Her voice was filled with insecurity, a childlike fear of rejection.

Iyer looked down at her, a small smile touching his lips.

“Call me Iyer, from now on.”

Her eyes widened, tears welling up.

But these weren’t tears of sadness.

Her face radiated pure joy.

Her voice, thick with emotion, whispered his name.

“Iyer…!”

They embraced again, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

The sounds of their lovemaking, illicit yet beautiful, drifted out the open window.

Then the window closed.

The room, now their private sanctuary, filled with the creaks of the old furniture and the sounds of their lovemaking.

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[YESSSSSSSSSSS HOT LIZARD SEX WE WIN THESEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE]