From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem-Chapter 39: Curves That Could Kill!

Alice rifled through her wardrobe like a woman on a mission—or a woman preparing for war. A war against time, age, motherhood... and maybe her own sense of decency.

She was looking for that dress.

The one she had vowed to never wear again. The one responsible for more church scandals than heresy.

The one that could turn even the most pious priest into a drooling blasphemer.

Her fingers brushed against something silky and familiar. Her heart sank.

"...Found you, damn it."

With a sigh of defeat, she pulled the old garment out and laid it on the bed like it was a sacred relic.

She smoothed out the folds reverently, then took a step back to admire it. It was still beautiful. Still dangerous.

"Haa... This is gonna be tight. Very tight," she muttered, eyeing the way the fabric seemed to shrink just by existing near her. "Damn these post-mom hips..."

But it wasn’t like she could get a new one tailored overnight.

Blessing an outfit with divine protection took weeks, and she didn’t have weeks.

This dress was going to have to bear the burden of both her curves and her holiness.

She pressed the outfit against her body and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her cheeks flushed pink.

Her waist was still trim, her breasts full, and her hips... well, let’s just say her hips had entered a new dimension.

The dress hugged her like a jealous lover, and every curve she thought time had dulled was now boldly present and accounted for.

"Oh, Saints help me," she whispered, "This is going to cause problems."

This dress had started bar fights. Made adventurers fail quests. Turned confessions into very awkward therapy sessions.

She distinctly remembered those days—those sinful, delicious days—when Alex would follow her like a dog in heat, tripping over his own feet just to get a glimpse of her curves in this very outfit.

Yes... those times.

A lifetime ago. Before motherhood, before battles, before disappointment settled in their marriage like dust in an empty chapel.

Now?

He barely even glanced her way. No lingering stares. No wandering hands. Just polite nods and marital silence.

Like all her beauty had been signed off, archived, and quietly buried.

Until, of course... a certain goblin gremlin came along. A menace with wandering eyes, twitchy ears, and enough raw lust to make a succubus blush.

She looked down at the outfit.

A "standard" church uniform, they said. Pfft. If this was standard, then goblins were gentlemen.

Black and white, tailored tight for maximum mobility and minimum modesty.

A slit ran up the side like a holy invitation to temptation—purely for practical movement, of course. Uh-huh. Sure.

She sighed, smoothing it down over her hips.

"No choice. Time calls for my help... and unfortunately, so does this outfit."

She looked in the mirror one last time and struck a pose.

Still got it.

Maybe a little softer in some places, a little heavier in others—but age had only refined her.

She was no longer the naïve holy maiden—she was a seasoned, dangerous woman.

Then came the thought.

That damn thought.

’Will the other guy inside Rae come out the moment he sees me in this? What would he do to me then...?’

Her heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in years. A little thrill. A little fear. A little hope.

...

"What do you think about his chances of survival?"

Alex muttered, arms crossed, eyes glued to Lyra’s tent like it was a warzone.

He had crawled out the moment she led Rae away.

He wasn’t sleeping—just pretending, the way you do when you sense a natural disaster approaching in heels.

He’d heard the legends.

He wasn’t the only one. Adrian, Melissa, and all the goblins had migrated outside under the guise of casual loafing.

Even Celeste sat silently by her tent, pretending to read—but everyone knew her ears were locked in. frёeωebɳovel.com

Bryce looked up at the cloudy sky.

"Twenty."

"Twenty what?" Adrian asked.

Bryce didn’t look at him.

"She took twenty health potions with her."

The silence hit like a lightning strike.

Goblins gasped. Alex looked physically ill. He had been the one to casually suggest Rae to Lyra. In hindsight, that may have been a war crime.

"Twenty?!"

Melissa whispered like she’d just seen a demon crawl out of the ground.

Adrian blinked.

"How do you even shag that thing?"

Everyone stared.

"What? What?! Don’t give me that look—we’ve all wondered!" he snapped, pointing fingers. "I just had the guts to say it!"

And... fair. They had all wondered. Lyra was, objectively, hotter than hell and twice as dangerous. The kind of woman who’d make a man cry with pleasure and beg for a priest.

They all looked toward the tent.

A flash of light flickered through the fabric.

Someone whimpered.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Bryce sipped from his canteen, stone-faced.

He looked up at the clouds again, like he was praying for divine mercy—or at least a tactical lightning strike.

"She once told me that lewd things like... hand-holding... should only happen after marriage," he muttered.

"And like a dumbass, I thought, ’Wow. A pure, noble woman. Not like the others.’"He sighed the sigh of a broken man. "Oh, how young and stupid I was."

The camp went quiet.

Then he added:

"I’ll tell you all a secret. One I swore I’d never admit—but I know none of you could’ve done better. So here it is."

Everyone leaned in like they were listening to a sacred prophecy. Even Celeste subtly tilted her head to catch every word.

Bryce’s ego was legendary—if he was about to eat humble pie, it was going to be delicious.

"To this day... after years of marriage..." he exhaled sharply, "the only intimacy I’ve had with her... is jacking off while staring at her back."

"HOOO!"

Collective gasps echoed around the fire. Even Adrian, who usually couldn’t keep his mouth shut, was struck speechless with sympathy.

Melissa clutched her bosom like she’d just heard a tragedy.

"You mean... she’s...?"

Bryce nodded solemnly.

"Still an eternal virgin. I mean, come on—she’s half succubus, half vampire. She got the worst of both worlds."

The group shuddered.

No one said a word for a moment. They just looked at the tent, where Rae had willingly—stupidly—gone in.

Then Alex, pale-faced and guilt-ridden, whispered,

"...Maybe we should start praying now."

"She’s like ice cream on the hottest summer day," Bryce muttered, staring into the distance. "Only... if you even think about touching her, you better have a warehouse full of health potions."

He gulped. The others didn’t blink.

"She’s always sour after every adventure. And I can’t even give her a massage unless I’ve got a full stack of potions on standby."

The first drops of rain started to fall, gentle but heavy, like the universe was preparing to mourn.

Celeste quietly folded up her chair and retreated into her tent.

Bryce glanced at the tent where poor Rae had entered. Then he made the sign of the cross, again.

"God bless your companion, Alex. God bless that poor bastard."

With that, he stood, patted Stool on the head, and disappeared into his tent. Thunder and Grumpy followed with a grunt of solidarity.

The others, one by one, began to slip into their shelters. The rain was only getting worse.

Alex lingered, eyes on Lyra’s tent. He shook his head and muttered under his breath:

"Alice is gonna murder me if that idiot dies tonight."

Meanwhile, inside the tent...

Rae gasped like a drowning man, his limbs twitching. Red warnings filled his vision like angry pop-ups from a cursed system admin:

[WARNING! Your health is at 2%. You will die in 20 seconds.]

He couldn’t remember what exactly had gone wrong. One minute, he’d reached out to give Lyra a relaxing calf massage like she asked, and the next...

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What do you guys think her powers are?