Grand Dad Is The Pervert God-Chapter 181: Snowfall Before the Storm

The morning sun crept weakly into the sky, veiled by the thick haze of snowfall that had blanketed the region over the last few days. Its light struggled against the clouds, casting a pale glow over the frost-covered land.

Before the entrance to the dungeon—its massive, rune-inscribed stone gates half-submerged in hoarfrost—two powerful forces gathered, facing each other with mutual tension.

On one side stood the might of the Almace Kingdom:

Lady Christiana WarEmbrace, radiant even in the biting cold, clad in her signature golden armor layered with winter fur. Her war sisters stood behind her like twin rows of statues, unmoving, their armor gleaming beneath the weak light.

Flanking them was William Icemake, expression ever-cold, his soldiers cloaked in pale blue armor, their breath misting like vaporized steel in the frozen air. Beside him was Luke Isaac, bundled in luxurious black furs, his crest prominently displayed. He was tense, checking often over his shoulder.

Behind them came Young Master Jan of the Ministry of Heavenly Judgement, walking barefoot on the snow as though it were warm stone. The monks who followed him were calm and unbothered by the cold, hands clasped in prayer, robes thin and flowing despite the temperature.

Opposite them stood Violet Saul at the forefront—blade sheathed, body wrapped in a dark crimson cloak, frost collecting on the tips of her wild violet hair.

Behind her, still wrapped in thick garments to ward off the cold, stood Alexis Isaac, her expression calm but resolute.

And just a step behind them stood three masked figures—Eros, Amanda, and Ngozi—draped in enchanted cloaks. The snow did not seem to stick to them, and a faint shimmer surrounded their bodies as though their presence disrupted the very air.

The tension cracked like static lightning between both sides.

It was Luke who spoke first. He took a theatrical step forward, pointing dramatically toward Alexis.

"So it was you, Violet! You kidnapped my wife! Give her back at once!"

But Alexis, despite her heavy coat and visible shivering, stepped forward with a strength in her voice that silenced the frosty wind.

"Violet did nothing to me," she said. "If anything, she gave me shelter when my own family locked me in a manor like some prized bird. Caged and ignored. You did not care that I was suffering... only that I stayed silent like some fuck-pig you wanted to mate and shit our children."

Everyone was shocked, and the murmurs began instantly.

Luke’s smile froze on his face, color draining as nobles and warriors alike turned to watch the scene unfold. Even William’s brow furrowed.

Luke tried to recover, forcing a nervous laugh. "You were sick, Alexis! I only wanted what was best for you. I and your grandfather–"

"Don’t you dare brjng my grand father into this. I wasn’t sick," she snapped. "I was poisoned during my cultivation... And none of you even noticed. At this point, I wonder if it was even you." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

With what Eros had told her, Alexis could not wrap her head around the thought that any other person except Luke would benefit from her condition.

She had no doubt in her mind that it was him that did this to her. The mere thought of it made her rage within.

Meanwhile, Gasps rippled through the assembly like an echo of thunder beneath the snow.

"You’re talking nonsense!" Luke shouted, panic rising in his voice as he stepped forward, his hand reaching to grab her arm. "You’re my wife, and I’ll take you back even if you don’t—"

But his hand never reached her.

Another hand caught his wrist mid-air—tight, firm, and immovable.

Eros.

Draped in dark robes, his mask staring blankly into Luke’s stunned face, Eros didn’t speak. His grip alone spoke volumes.

Luke instinctively activated his soul energy, veins glowing faintly beneath his sleeve as a torrent surged to break free from Eros’ grasp—

But it fizzled out like a dying ember.

He tried again. Another surge of energy.

Again... nothing.

His power was being snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane.

It wasn’t brute strength that kept him trapped—it was precision. Soul energy so precisely woven, so delicately timed, that it dismantled his power with surgical accuracy.

To the average onlooker, the moment was nothing but a strange pause.

But Christiana WarEmbrace and William Icemake both noticed.

And both silently acknowledged the masked man’s mastery.

Incredible, Christiana thought, her eyes narrowing. Not even I could suppress soul energy with such seamless precision. And this masked man. I can feel his soul rank. He’s... weaker than me? Who the hell is this man?

William Icemake narrowed his eyes, curiosity sharpening into interest.

Violet stepped forward, voice sharp and unrelenting.

"If you touch Alexis again, Luke," she said coldly, "I’ll personally make sure you never use that hand to grope another slave girl ever again."

A few nobles stifled shocked laughs.

Christiana raised her hand, voice firm.

"That’s enough. This... dispute can be resolved after the dungeon exploration. Luke, back down."

Luke, humiliated, yanked his wrist from Eros’ grip and stepped away. But the venom in his eyes as he glared at the masked figure spoke of a hatred born anew.

Eros didn’t flinch.

He stood there, his hand falling back to his side, Amanda and Ngozi just behind him. They had not moved, but even now, their fingers hovered near their weapons. Watching. Waiting.

At that exact moment, with the tension still heavy and the air cold enough to freeze breath mid-sentence, William Icemake turned his head toward Eros.

And Eros, still standing tall with his arms loosely at his side, returned the look.

Their eyes locked.

There were no words spoken—none were needed. In that fleeting instant, something ancient passed between them. A kind of mutual recognition. A primal kind of understanding between predators who had both walked alone, clawed through a special kind of battle ground, and mastered very forbidden arts.

It was the kind of silent acknowledgment that didn’t demand friendship, only respect.

Eros gave a faint, half-smile beneath his mask. Cool, restrained.

William, ever the ice-hearted noble, mirrored it with his own subtle smirk.

No one aside the two men noticed this.

Christiana WarEmbrace’s voice rang out like a golden bell, cold and commanding, "Make way. We enter."

At her words, the guards positioned before the dungeon’s sealed stone doors stepped aside. Their armor clinked faintly, the steel half-buried in frost. One of them pulled a lever bound with ancient runes, and the magic-infused mechanism rumbled like a waking beast.

The gates—grand, towering things carved with twisting runes and ancient mural-like figures—began to open.

Thick chains pulled apart, releasing the stone slabs that had held shut for a long time. A deep wind spilled out from within, smelling of old earth, iron, and something else—something hungry.

As both parties stepped forward, Eros’ eyes traced the murals engraved on the gate’s inner face.

There were depictions of figures in rather exotic, and erotic positions.

"So it’s that kind of dungeon," he thought to himself, a rare note of genuine intrigue flashing behind his mask.

All of them entered.

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