NOVPUB
Chapter 35 - Meeting The Hotties!
Needless to say, what followed was straight out of a stupid comedy movie.
The horse neighed like it had seen the ghost of its ancestors, jerked forward, and poor Celeste—unprepared, unsuspecting, and standing too damn close—toppled backwards like a porcelain statue knocked off a shelf.
Thud!
Ass-first into the grass, legs flailing in the air, her pristine white gown flipping up just enough to bless Rae and Alex with an accidental front-row seat to paradise.
Milky thighs. Snowy panties. Heaven, interrupted.
Both men froze like deer in divine headlights, cheeks turning red like they'd been caught stealing fruit from the gods' own kitchen.
Rae nearly swallowed his tongue.
Alex looked away—too late—his ears practically steaming.
And the other heroes just lost it.
Laughter erupted like someone had cast a mass tickling spell. One hero doubled over, another was slapping their thigh, and a third was making choking noises from laughing too hard.
Meanwhile, a flustered goblin woman darted over to the fallen celestial being, scurrying like her whole paycheck depended on it, and began patting Celeste down like a panicked maid fixing a royal wardrobe malfunction.
That's when Alex realized his mistake.
He dismounted so fast it looked like he was trying to win an Olympic medal for guilt.
"Celeste! Are you alright?! I—I don't know what got into this stupid beast."
He said, offering a hand like a man trying very hard to pretend he hadn't just seen God's gift to cotton lace.
Celeste blinked, cheeks pink but composure holding strong.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Just caught off guard, that's all."
She took his hand with grace, rising like a queen from the battlefield of embarrassment.
The little goblin at her feet gently dusted off her gown, muttering something soft and reverent like she was polishing a divine relic.
Rae, meanwhile, sat atop the horse, holding back laughter so hard his ribs ached. He leaned forward just a little and whispered to himself:
'Round two, goblin. Round fucking two.'
"Man, we haven't even entered the forest yet and you've already lost a fight?"
Second mage of the group, Adrian, smirked.
"Ufff... Not a good look, Celeste."
"Shut it, Adrian."
Alex shot daggers with his eyes at the annoying man.
But Adrian just raised his hands in faux surrender.
"Relax, big guy. Just saying, she's already twitchier than a squirrel on espresso with all this mission pressure, and now this? You're not exactly helping."
Before Alex could bite back, another woman stepped in—tall, muscular, and carved out of sarcastic calm. She dusted off her arms, then gently helped Celeste readjust her gown.
"Don't mind the idiot brigade," Lyra muttered. "They're all mouth, no brain."
And then came another voice.
"Oh baby, are you alright?"
The voice was soft, sweet, like someone's favorite aunt who also happened to be hot.
Melissa, the party's archer, glided forward with that motherly concern mixed with the grace of a woman who could shoot an apple off your head while sipping tea.
Celeste, still dusting herself off, nodded with her usual grace, but Rae wasn't listening.
No, Rae was busy ogling.
Not in a pervy way—okay, maybe a little—but more like a tourist at the Louvre seeing living masterpieces and realizing damn, they don't make 'em like this back in the goblin pits.
He had memories of them, sure—Old Rae had met these women a lot—but this Rae?
This was like meeting celebrities in HD. In person. In silk. With gravity-defying curves and legs that could write poetry.
Celeste was... composed. Polished. A proper lady to the last bone.
Her figure was straight out of a sculptor's fever dream, but she dressed like someone who wouldn't even show ankle without a signed permit.
Modest. Elegant. Always calm, always diplomatic, lips pursed like she was holding back the secrets of the universe—or the urge to slap someone. Hard to say which.
She was the kind of woman who never raised her voice, never acted out, and definitely never gave away what she was really thinking. Until, of course, she snapped.
And judging by the twitch in her eye?
That snap was coming.
The second woman—Lyra—was a certified muscle mommy, no questions asked.
Tanned, strong, and always grinning like she just won a drinking contest and the prize pig.
Her outfit looked like it was stitched by a very confused blacksmith with very horny hands: a slitted leather skirt that rode high—real high—giving the occasional peek at the dangerously cute panties beneath.
And the top was a sleeveless chestplate hugged her like it had a crush, with thick straps running over her broad shoulders.
It even dipped slightly at the chest, a subtle V that teased just enough cleavage to make Rae nearly bite his tongue.
She wasn't just eye candy though. Rae could feel the power in her. Her thighs alone looked like they could suplex a troll.
One flex, and his goblin skull would be mulch.
He gulped. Respectfully.
Then came Melissa—the third woman and the archer of the group. And oof, Rae wasn't ready for the milf energy this one radiated.
Sure, she was the same age as the others, but her vibe was pure mom-next-door: soft eyes, warm smile, hips that didn't lie.
She wore a long green dress that blended into the woods like she was part shrub, part goddess.
Her every step whispered elegance, like the forest itself made way for her.
'Damn... these women...'
Rae thought in his head, thankful—deeply, deeply thankful—that he'd put on underwear this morning.
He looked skyward and gave a solemn nod.
'This test shall be mighty, o Lord...'
Still, he made a mental note: Avoid Celeste for now.
The way her icy gaze could castrate a man from twenty feet away told him she was not one to toy with casually.
That one required strategy.
Just then, a deep voice called out from across the path.
"If you're all done over there, let's move. We can't waste any more time. We need to wrap this up before sunset."
The voice belonged to Bryce—Lyra's husband.
Tall, striking, annoyingly handsome in that "protagonist of a romance novel" way.
He was tending to his horse the whole time, completely unfazed by Celeste's fall. Typical.
Rae immediately didn't like him.
He was also the man who'd screwed up months ago and let the Big Bad escape.
Guilt still clung to him like a wet cloak, but he wore it well—stoic, focused, and brooding like he was auditioning for a tragic backstory.
Rae blinked.
Wait... this man fumbled the final boss and still kept the wife with the thighs of Olympus?
Life wasn't fair.
