Galaxy's First Ruler

Dungeons didn't just pop out of nowhere in the world of RECORD.

Every Dungeon had a story, lore, and a legend about it. One could find it documented in holy scrolls or whispered by word of mouth from the distant past to the foreseeable future. Those who were yet to leave the shell called Barren Earth wouldn't know about these well-known facts.

"I have never heard of this God before!?"

Christin asked with a curious look in her eyes. Tomislav rolled the piece of parchment and put it back in his pockets.

"Neither have I. But that is not the point to wonder about."

"Huh? Then what is it? Tell me, tell me?"

Christin started to playfully jump around Tomislav. Her sports bra did a pretty good job of securing her boobs from flailing about. Unfortunately, the tightness of her pants couldn't handle the torture it was being subjected to.

Rippppp!!!

With a massive tearing sound, her pants got ripped apart from just under her hips. As the rest of the pants fell, only a part of them stayed around her hips. It looked as if she was wearing low-rise ultra shorts.

"How… How many times have I told you not to do that?"

Click!

Tomislav rebuked Christin and snapped his fingers. The fell-down part of the pants vanished without a trace and the milky thighs with a pinkish tinge got revealed for the pleasure of many eyes.

"So… Sorry Captain!"

Sniff!

"Oh, come on! Don't cry over it."

"Sniff! Okay!"

The redness in Christin's eyes was unbearable for Tomislav, so he couldn't help but continue with his explanation.

"The thing to wonder about is not the Dungeon itself, but how the Lord of an entire Planet from a distant Kingdom got to know about it."

"Oh!"

Christine, on the verge of crying, got taken aback as she heard Tomislav's words. A ponderous expression appeared on her face and she narrowed her eyes. But soon, the ensuing headache from overthinking forced her out to reality.

"You might someday overthink yourself to death."

"Hehe, I am sure the captain would be there to bury me if that happens."

Christin leaped towards Tomislav and wrapped her arms around his big biceps. A slight smile came upon his face, but then he looked at her thighs. The dust had done little to bring down the air of lust around them.

'Sigh! This might become a problem.'

A thought passed through Tomislav's mind as they entered the mayor's house. The guards standing outside didn't mind the two incomers and let them pass as if they were air. Tomislav and Christin took a turn into a long corridor and, at its entrance, they found a man leaning against the wall.

The man had sunken eyes, cheeks, and nose. His white-strips-like clothing made him look like a wrapped mummy. Even weirder were the few bugs that kept coming out of his ears and crawled back into him from his mouth.

"What are you doing here, Berb?"

Tomislav looked at the last member of his small team, who was supposed to remain around the young Viscount.

Buzz! Wheee!!!

The corridor rang out with the rattling of many insects and whistling of crickets as Berb approached his captain and gave a reply.

"I couldn't handle…"

"What you couldn't handle?" Christin asked as soon as Berb paused at the end of his sentence.

He gave her an annoyed look, and the bizarre buzzing noise intensified around him.

"… it anymore."

"It's that bad, huh!"

Tomislav took a deep breath and carried on to the end of the corridor, with both of his teammates following him. A loud noise of laughter and music came out from the door on his left. Tomislav paused for a bit before taking a step in.

The scene within the dining hall had changed little before he had left for the tavern. Sprawled over a sofa, surrounded by many girls, was the Count's son. A girl, with an obviously higher status than others, was on his lap. One of her hands kept caressing his red hair and feeding him grapes with the other. His white coat had an image of a red rose over his left chest pocket. The red rose had a drop of green liquid about to be dropped from one of the many thorns.

That was the insignia of the House Venomous Rose.

And the young man in the whtie attire was Viscount Trifon Goranov, son of Count Drago Goranov.

"Ah! You have returned Tomislav."

The Viscount looked at the newly arrived group, and his eyes chanced upon Christin's thighs. The black-haired beauty on his lap brought a few grapes towards his mouth, but he slapped her hand away.

Tomislav saw the lecherous look in Trifon's eyes and secretly let out a breath of helplessness. He took off his hat and his shoulder-long blue hair fell like a waterfall.

"Greetings, my lord. I have found some information. We can start the journey as soon as you command."

Trifon was still staring at Christin's perky ass and her thighs. The visible noise of swallowing his saliva came out from him as he looked away from her. Tomislav noticed the incredible hate in the eyes of the beauty on his lap as she looked at Christin. And the fat mayor on his side shared that look because that beauty was his daughter.

"Ah yes, yes. I am getting bored here, anyway."

The mayor lunged towards the Viscount and said to him, trying to hide the panic in his voice as much as he could.

"My lord, my lord. You have just come. Why not stay for the night and go in the morning? I have brought some gifts for you."

"Yes, my lord. I… I too have prepared a gift for you."

The mayor's daughter followed her father's lead and whispered in Viscount's ears, forcing a grape down Viscount's throat.

"Hmm! Ok, we will go tomorrow then."

Tomislav couldn't help but shake his head. He didn't blame the father and daughter for their shameless behavior.

If he were to be in his place, he would have also grabbed every chance to get out of this damned place called the Death Separation.