Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!-Chapter 137: Leonhardt’s plan - Preparation for the Goblin Village (I)

Meanwhile, in Arlet village, many people visited Erina and went about their daily business as usual. Today, Leonhardt wanted to see two people.

He would visit his partner and see if she wanted to expand their business, and arrange a meeting between the Minister of Growth and Veronica.

His first visit would be to The Sleepy Kobold.

*Jingle*

The first thing he noticed was the improved atmosphere, less rough, and the walls and doors seemed new. A dark, glossy wood that was smooth to the touch and a little warm.

"Welcome!" A young, beautiful voice echoed.

Leonhardt turned to the voice and gasped.

The short woman with long ears looked similar to Veronica, with fluffy blond hair and orange eyes that flickered in the sunlight. "Ah! It's the Master!" She called out in a loud voice, before covering her lips... a cute and rather sweet voice.

"Is Veronica here?"

He didn't know if she was Veronica's daughter or family, so he played it safe.

"Mm..." She tilted her head with a finger on her lips, the cute village dress and black and white apron bringing out her modest figure. "Aunt Veronica is in the cellar, can you wait a little for her to finish?"

'Honestly I don't need to rush, Lina told me that she would visit me tomorrow.'

[You just like looking at cute women, admit it!]

(Well, he's part arachne and Black Dragon... of course, his sex drive is high.)

Ifrit and Dravanna constantly spoke whenever he made choices or did something. One would complain while the other became excited.

They never agreed on anything despite being so old.

"Then can I get a chilled Papillon and something to eat?" he didn't mind ordering, since spending money was an experience he enjoyed.

"Of course! You're the Master."

The pretty young barmaid skipped back into the kitchen, while he sat down at a large table, spotless and new.

"Even the chairs are comfortable and soft now..."

It no longer felt like a village bar. Instead, it might even surpass a city bar or inn. He also noticed that the customers quietly drank and ate their meals. Rather than noise, it was a calming background sound.

Leonhardt couldn't explain it, but he enjoyed this human-like action and trait.

The rush he felt when buying the random goblin jobs and classes before meeting the council and deciding how to guide them made him excited.

He watched the gap in the kitchen and saw the young woman chopping vegetables and meat... it seemed she was cooking for him.

"it's rare to see the young miss making food, what a lucky man." An Elderly woman chuckled at the old man in front of her.

"Well, he's a good looking lad, and looks polite." Her husband grumbled.

The murmur of conversation mixed with the soft clatter of wooden mugs and cutlery.

A breeze wafted through the opened window, carrying the scent of herbs, baked bread, and a sharp citrus-sweet aroma—that was his Papillon.

Clack.

The small woman in the apron carefully placed a round wooden tray before him.

On it sat a small dish of golden, seared root vegetables with a drizzle of mushroom butter, a wedge of grilled white fish with sprigs of parsley, and beside it. The star—a glass of chilled Papillon. A pale lavender colour swirled inside the crystal, laced with soft golden sparkles that clung to the rim.

"Enjoy!" she beamed before bowing her head and flitting away like a squirrel with too much energy.

Leonhardt lifted the glass and took a slow sip.

Sweet at first. Like peach and honey kissed with a sun-warmed strawberry. Then came the familiar sharpness, that fermented tang of Crysta lemons, but it faded softly, melting into a mellow smoothness that lingered.

"Mmh."

[Stop making those noises or the girl will get the wrong idea.]

Ifrit's voice sounded with second-hand embarrassment.

(She already likes the sound, let him enjoy his wine, sourpuss.)

Dravanna's voice purred.

Leonhardt rolled his eyes mentally and picked up the fork, spearing a bit of fish. Crisp, moist, seasoned with dill and some spice he didn't recognise.

The meal was light but full of flavour—someone took care with this.

He looked again at the kitchen window. The girl was on her tiptoes, reaching for a spice jar, humming some old elvish tune out of key.

"...Master or not, this is dangerous," he muttered with a half-smile, taking another bite.

From the stairs leading to the cellar, heavy footsteps approached. The voices fell quiet, and then—

Click. Creak.

Out stepped Veronica.

"Now now, what's this I hear about the Master being served by my niece?" Her voice carried smooth and warm, like silk dragged through honey, with just a hint of teasing smoke.

Leonhardt turned and took her in.

Veronica had filled out more than he remembered—thicker in the hips, her top tight with the kind of weight that came with age and luxury. She tied her golden hair back in a relaxed braid, a few strands framing her sharp cheekbones and glinting gold eyes.

"And you're looking more… expensive," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh my, then would you care to buy me?" Veronica chuckled, walking over with that slow sway she always had—intentional, like every step was to remind someone she knew what she was worth. And more.

"Your wine money talks, darling," she said, slipping into the seat across from him. Her fingers idly drummed against the wood. "The new walls, the tables, my sexy figure and even the new menu—it's all Papillon-powered. Your fruit and my wine? A goldmine."

"And yet you didn't pour yourself a glass."

She smirked. "If I drank every time I made money, I'd be under the table." Then she leaned in, eyes narrowing slightly. "So, why's the tough mercenary himself visiting a sleepy little inn and not spending time with his cute young girls?"

Leonhardt matched her gaze. "Sometimes, something charming with maturity and experience is best to admire."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mmm. So what is it? If you want to sleep with me, then sign this." In her hand was a marriage document, already filled in with a 50% split on all finances.

[Hahahaha!]

(This woman is quite amusing.)

He couldn't deny that it was rather tempting not to sleep with her, but to bind her to him. Leonhardt didn't care for the laws of elves and humans—if he wanted to marry, he would, and if not, then he wouldn't.

"No, I need your help and have an offer to make."

"Oh, and offer?" she leaned closer, sliding her chair with a squeak, as their thighs touched. "Tell me your offer, if it makes money, I'm all yours."

Leonhardt couldn't help but admire the mental fortitude of this woman. "Well, do you accept a binding oath, so you cannot speak to anyone about it?" His hand extended into the air before pulling out a golden parchment.

"I see..." Veronica watched him carefully, but didn't decline. "If it isn't going to harm me, or that girl, I will."

He didn't waste time and sliced his thumb, and pressed it against the contract. "Here."

Veronica took it and looked over the terms, "It's just to keep me quiet and nothing else, you really are the best business partner." She couldn't help but remember the number of times humans tried to swindle her.

She grabbed his hand, using his sharp nail to cut her thumb and pressed it into the oath.

Immediately after the contract burned into two flames, one black, the other golden, as the golden one entered Leon and the black entered Veronic, information filled their minds... secrets and information they held back in the past.

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"Oh... you... Ack—!" When she tried to state his identity, her head jolted with an electric shock

"Haha, don't worry. I won't kill you or abuse your trust."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mmm. So what is it? A second Kobold? A mobile wine cart? An inn inside a cave?"

"A small branch inn inside the village outskirts. Near the east walls. You'd run it, build it as you like. Quietly. You get profits and full control—my goblins will protect the place, but you never say the dungeon's name. Not once."

"Well I can't do that now anyway, right?" Her lips curled into a deep, seductive smile. The look in her eyes became different.

A flame burned inside them, her appeal more... serious.

Veronica tapped her lip in thought, the nail glinting gold. "And the humans? What happens when some poor traveller drinks a bit too much and starts screaming about the 'monster bar'?"

"I'll let the monsters eat him."

She gave a throaty laugh.

"Gods, you haven't changed." Her hand slipped under the table and brushed his thigh—not sexual, just familiar. "You're still dangerous in a very bad way."

"Is that a yes?"

Veronica leaned forward, her cleavage softening against the edge of the table. Her voice dropped lower, playful.

"I'll think about it… if you pour me a glass and call me Mistress."