Deadmeat Saga

In Grand Burgheress Prisca al Mutaism's mansion-

An exquisite pair of mother and daughter were playing a game of chess while talking.

"Mother, is there any news of that otherworlder?" A beautiful young lady with poisonous eyes asked. She was Domentzia, Prisca's most favored daughter.

"He entered Droham with Princess Libania and started diving into the dungeon. He went on quite the killing spree on the way. He has a few nails loose, to be sure." A cold and mature beauty emotionlessly said, her every move calculated and precise.

After Ma Yang's high-profile display, almost everyone in the city knew about the maniac. The king's behavior was more than odd. He wouldn't even spare his children if they did something as outrageous as Ma Yang's murder spree. And yet, that ruthless king only slapped Ma Yang on the wrist before exiling him from the city, not even the kingdom, accompanied by Princess Libania, one of his best daughters. With some digging, anyone with knowledge or connections knew what he was- an Otherworlder, a dangerous person with strange powers and high growth potential.

"Good riddance. Hopefully, that trash with a death wish won't throw any more tantrums before he gets hacked to death." Domentzia said with a hint of disdain.

She viewed Ma Yang as a narrow-minded man-child with a false sense of self-importance. Such people died fast. No matter how talented, if the person was like that, then he should better become extinct as nature intended and not spread his seed. Otherworlders had the favor of the gods, but the gods had their limits. The more he performed poorly or abhorrently, the more the gods would abandon him, and the worse his luck would be, eventually resulting in his death. And Ma Yang did exceptionally poorly with his antics. It was likely the gods already stopped smiling at him, perhaps frowning.

Prisca didn't admonish her daughter, sharing this view with her. Instead, she asked, "How is your search for a spouse going?"

"Not well. Those men are either overly authoritative, machismo, ambitious, too old, or flirtatious. The rest are not up to standard." Domentzia said with discontent.

The Al Mutaism family is several centuries old, with the dominant force always the women. When the ruling matriarch passed or resigned, the first to take the family head was the most suitable daughter, sister, or niece. Even if there were none, they would adopt a talented female into the family through marriage with a son. Such were the traditions that continued the family's prosperity.

While the other women were exempt from this rule, the next matriarch was required to be independent, selecting the most talented yet easy-to-handle spouse to produce elite offspring and be her backer. Domentzia, the unquestioned next head of the house, was required to follow this rule.

"That is indeed troubling. Finding an A-rank that suits all your needs is difficult. That is why I never married a man and instead have a lover." Prisca said with a lukewarm look.

"I would rather not lovelessly embrace a man for seed and protection." Domentzia frowned, unhappy with the thought.

Although she wanted control, she also wanted a proper love life. As cold and ruthless as she was, she still wanted long-term companionship. She knew well who her biological father was. Although mighty enough to make even the king careful, she rarely saw him except when he taught her his skills. She knew her mother had more of a business relationship with her father than companionship.

Prisca merely smiled and didn't comment further, instead turning to look at the door. Domentzia also looked at the door, sensing the approaching presence. Moments later, the door opened, and a maid holding a letter approached, "My Lady, Young Miss, a new report."

Prisca extended her hand, the letter floating from the maid's hands to her own, and opened it. The maid silently left the room and closed the door. After reading the letter, Prisca was amused, "Silly fellow. Quite the dark sense of humor."

"Is it about those Youvamorian Dungeon Explorers with questionable backgrounds?" Domentzia asked.

"Yes, read it for yourself," Prisca said, giving the letter to her daughter.

Domentzia took the letter and read the report, "Havre the Sword Champion is acceptable, Qold the Dreamy Temptress is a bit slutty but perhaps suitable, and- Gerhart the Deadmeat?" Her expression turned odd, "Wow, this man does have a dark humor. Or at least he doesn't care about what they call him."

"What do you think about him, daughter?" Prisca asked.

"He has suitable talent and passable looks, but that is all. He has a harem of powerful women, dominant and authoritative, and is a drifter. Unsuitable." Domentzia gave her judgment.

"Indeed. If we talk about Gerhart, he is indeed unsuitable for you." Prisca nodded before smiling. "However, I was not speaking of him."

"Hm?" Domentzia raised an eyebrow and scrutinized the report before finding two other men.

"Calvin, B-rank Dungeon Explorer and in his early twenties. A warrior under Gerhart's group and likely an A-rank. Handsome, confident, a drinker, and a womanizer who flirts with women unrelated to Gerhart. Shows hints of noble behavior and suspected to be from gentry or low nobility background- pass."

"Ray, a B-rank Dungeon Explorer and in his late teens. A rogue under Gerhart's group and likely an A-rank. Handsome, meek, socially awkward, and acts like a curious bumpkin, likely from laborer, slave, or serf origins. Hm..."

Domentzia narrowed her eyes, locking on Ray. Ray met all her requirements as a spouse. He was an easy-to-control spouse who she could mold as she wished. Such men were not random drifters, often subservient to those above them. She didn't care about education since she could teach him everything he needed, slowly cultivating love. In due time, he could be the ideal husband, the father of her children, and the sword in her hand.

"Ray is perfect... But the only problem is that he is under Gerhart." Domentzia quickly realized the problem and frowned.

"Precisely. Although Ray perfectly meets your requirements, such men are like loyal dogs, tame and obedient to their owners. If you can get him first, you have a loyal and competent dog, but if others have him, you must negotiate with the owner." Prisca said. But then, she narrowed her eyes, "However, this Gerhart is not simple. So many A and B-ranks are gathering around him at a young age. Furthermore, there are no known adventurers like them in the Youvamore Kingdom. I suspect he is a young master from one of the major nations or even three superpowers."

Domentzia couldn't help but frown. "Do you think he is here because of the impending Civil War in the Youvamore Kingdom?"

"Perhaps. King Antoine's health is deteriorating. The 1st prince and 2nd princess are gathering power and supporters, and Nephew Carten is no different. Only the 7th princess is being passive, continuing her adventuring career. I fear that by winter, the civil war shall begin the moment His Majesty Antoine can't hold the throne. After the Youvamore Kingdom gets weakened, many nearby forces would likely join the bloodbath." Prisca said.

"And what should be our stance?" Domentzia asked.

"We follow family traditions, of course. Show some support, but avoid getting too involved." Prisca said. "Now, let us resume our game."

"Yes, mother." Domentzia nodded and continued their game.