I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Seraphine’s eye twitched slightly, clearly not appreciating being circled and examined like merchandise. Lyanna’s hand had drifted unconsciously toward where her weapon was concealed and Cassandra had taken a small step backward, uncomfortable with the attention.

The crocodile-man didn’t seem to notice their discomfort.

“The blonde one! Such regal bearing! Such perfect features! Like a goddess descended from the heavens!” He pointed at Seraphine, who looked like she was seriously considering whether it would be an issue to punch him.

“And this one!” He gestured at Lyanna. “Such fierce beauty! Such strength in those eyes! A warrior’s grace combined with feminine perfection! Magnificent!”

“And the quiet one in the back!” Cassandra flinched as his attention focused on her. “Such delicate features! Such mysterious allure! Like a winter flower—cold and beautiful and untouchable!”

He spun back to Julian, his tail nearly knocking over a nearby merchant’s display of pottery.

“Who are these women, stranger? Your companions? Your guards? Your—” His eyes suddenly widened even further. “Surely not your slaves? We don’t allow slavery in Hermes Kingdom, oh no, not at all!”

Julian smiled—genuinely amused by this creature. He stepped slightly forward, placing himself subtly between the crocodile-man and his daughters.

“These are my wives,” he said simply.

The crocodile-man froze completely, his mouth hanging open. His eyes somehow grew even larger—Julian hadn’t thought that was physically possible.

“Your… your… your WIVES?” The squeaky voice had gone up an octave, becoming almost a whistle. “All three of them? THREE wives?”

“Yes,” Julian confirmed, his smile widening slightly at the creature’s reaction.

“But… but… but…” The crocodile-man seemed unable to form coherent sentences. His clawed hands were gesturing wildly, his tail thrashing behind him. “You’re human! Just a regular human! And they’re… they’re…”

He gestured helplessly at the three daughters, who were watching this exchange with varying levels of amusement and annoyance.

“How?” the creature finally managed. “HOW? What possible… I mean, what could you possibly… they’re so far out of your league that…” He trailed off, seeming to realize he was being incredibly rude.

Seraphine, despite her earlier irritation, couldn’t help but laugh at the creature’s complete breakdown. “Are you asking how my husband convinced us to marry him?”

“YES!” the crocodile-man nearly shouted. “Exactly that! Because no offense, sir, truly no offense intended, but you look like… well, you look fairly ordinary! Handsome enough, sure, but these three could have literally anyone! Kings! Princes! Powerful mages! Wealthy merchants! They could marry anyone they wanted!”

Julian’s smile became slightly more dangerous, though still friendly on the surface. “Perhaps I’m more than I appear.”

The crocodile-man stared at him for a long moment, his reptilian brain clearly working hard. Then his eyes widened again.

“You’re rich!” he declared. “You must be incredibly, fantastically, absurdly wealthy! That’s the only explanation! You’re some kind of merchant prince traveling in disguise!”

Lyanna snorted with laughter at that. “Not exactly.”

“Then what?” The creature was genuinely confused now, looking between Julian and the three daughters like he was trying to solve an impossible puzzle. “Magic? Are you a powerful mage? Did you enchant them?”

“I did not enchant them,” Julian said firmly, a slight edge entering his voice. “And they chose to marry me of their own free will.”

Cassandra stepped forward slightly. “Our husband is exceptional in ways that have nothing to do with wealth or magic tricks. Perhaps you should judge less by appearance.”

The crocodile-man blinked rapidly, clearly taken aback by the soft-spoken woman’s sharp response.

“I… yes… of course… my apologies…” he stammered, actually looking embarrassed for the first time. “I meant no disrespect to you, beautiful ladies, or to your husband. It’s just… surprising, you understand? Unusual!”

“Everything about us is unusual,” Seraphine said dryly. “You’ll find that out quickly enough if you keep talking to us.”

The crocodile-man seemed to consider this. Then, suddenly, his entire demeanor changed—from flustered and embarrassed to shrewd and calculating.

“You said you’re hunters,” he said, his squeaky voice dropping to a more normal pitch. “From the wilderness. Tracking strange creature for days.”

“That’s right,” Julian confirmed.

“But you don’t have any of your hunt with you,” the creature observed, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly. “No meat, nothing to trade. Odd for hunters who’ve been out for days, don’t you think?”

Julian kept his expression neutral. The creature was more observant than his silly demeanor suggested.

“We stored our kills,” Julian lied smoothly. “Too heavy to carry into town. We’ll retrieve them later if we decide to trade here.”

“Mmm-hmm,” the crocodile-man hummed, clearly not entirely convinced. “And your weapons? I don’t see any weapons. What do you hunt with? Harsh language?”

Lyanna grinned, liking this creature despite his earlier rudeness. “We keep our weapons close. Just not visible.”

“Ah! Hidden weapons! Very wise, very wise indeed!” The creature’s enthusiasm returned. “Can’t trust everyone, especially not in border settlements like this! Smart travelers, you are!”

He circled them one more time, but this time his movements were less performative.

“Tell me,” he said, coming to a stop in front of Julian again. “What are your names? If you’re planning to trade in our market, people will want to know who you are. I’m Skreek, by the way. Skreek the merchant. I deal in information, introductions, and interesting opportunities.”

Julian considered his options. False names? Partial truths? Complete honesty?

He decided on a middle path.

“I’m Julian,” he said. “And these are my wives—Seraphine, Lyanna, and Cassandra.”

Skreek’s eyes widened again. “Just Julian? No family name? No title? How mysterious!”

“Just Julian,” he confirmed.

“And your wives share your mysterious nature, I see!” Skreek’s tail swished back and forth. “Well, well, well! This is interesting indeed! Mysterious hunters with impossible-to-believe beautiful wives, no visible weapons, no visible game, and no family names!”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to what he probably thought was a whisper but was still quite audible.

“You’re not actually hunters, are you?” he asked. “You’re spies! Or assassins! Or fugitives! Oh, how exciting!”