CHAPTER 123

“Lady, I like you for my son,” said Ilorde right after she chucked her son away from harm by intercepting the fist with her shadow-coated tail. Ilorde’s voice vibrated the swift rancid air of the Nether World since her voice deepened whenever she talked using her shapeshifted body. Her plan was to trash the fucker from her son, plain and simple. But a horned and winged Halfling, like her son, stepped forward among the three onlookers she saw right after she arrived. The lady who rescued her from the dungeons with only one condition: to beat the shit out of her husband. Apparently, this lady was also the special someone of her beloved son – though Ilorde only discovered it by hearing the pounding of the Halfling’s heart as they dashed to save her son from the fucker. ‘Speaking of the fucker.’

“Who are you? Wait,” said Michael the Loyal as he maneuvered his wings from them. “Blue scales. You are Ilorde from the elusive