My Mansion of Gorgeous Maids in Another World
Chapter 51: Who?

Chapter 51: Who?

Eleonora shimmered into view, the carriage lamps catching on skin, steel, and scandal. Her outdoor‑maid skirt swept low, yet the loose hem looked ready to rip away at a cruel tug. Her belt‑cinched waist flexed; the long skirt murmured over her boots in a hush of starched pleats. She’d swapped the usual blouse for a crisp suit shirt, its tails and the skirt both tucked into her belt.

The mash‑up looked eccentric, exactly as she intended. Mia had balked at first, saying it mirrored Jett’s own clothes, so Eleonora compromised on a black suit shirt that matched the maid dress’s darker tones.

With a sword hanging at her hip, she resembled a knight‑maid, a striking counterpoint to Noctlisa.

As much as this situation won’t let me soak it in the way I’d like... Jett raked his gaze over Eleonora from head to toe. She’s gorgeous! Jett’s pulse thumped in his ears—the same cadence the carriage wheels had kept, only faster, rougher.

Silver hair framed a striking face, every line elegant yet lethal. A single lock slid across her cheek as she breathed. Her argent eyes were vast and inquisitive, yet ready to dole out ruin to anyone who threatened her master. The borrowed shirt stretched indecently over her cannon‑sized curves, pearly buttons straining like teeth on a zipper.

Yet again, Jett grasped that he now traveled with women who eclipsed every celebrity back on Earth—Mia, Noctlisa, and now Eleonora.

Eleonora pressed a hand to her breast and dipped into a shallow bow, her tone a poised alto. "I am—" she drew in a measured breath, the shirt quivering "—ready for your swiftest command, Master."

Jett nodded, the air seeming to cool as business reclaimed them. "I’m counting on you with this Skia mess. Think they’re still holding out?"

"Indeed," she replied. "Though years have passed, I’m confident my family has kept the capital’s defenses in peak condition—perhaps even improved them. The dragons may have accounted for those mechanisms, yet their rage and arrogance leave them blind."

Jett nodded again. She sizes things up fast—nice. She’s probably right—those lizards must’ve dismissed the Stormcloud Dukedom. That buys us time to reach them before the whole nation gets dumped into the catacombs.

Maybe it was mere faith in her bloodline, but Jett prayed she was right. He quizzed her on every defense rune and killing field around the capital, then shared what he’d uncovered so far; waiting in the carriage left him little else to do. A fresh set of eyes might spark a new angle.

Truth be told, I might run dry on mana for the first time in combat instead of in bed. Kinda thrilling.

...

Two days later, the first signs of the war between humans and dragonslayers stained the horizon.

Metallic blood‑scent seeped in with the crimson light, and silhouettes of wheeling dragons clawed the horizon.

A coppery stench flooded the carriage’s upper deck, making Jett’s nostrils flare.

A lot of blood’s been spilled.

Most people would’ve retched at the scent, but Jett and his maids never flinched. They sat at razor‑sharp attention, prepared to take on anyone or anything.

"No telling how this shakes out, but we stick to the original plan," Jett said, the carriage soaked in crimson light.

"As you command, Master Jett." Mia bowed.

"As ya say, Master!" Noctlisa barked, fist over heart.

"As you command, Master." Eleonora’s affirmation was smooth and warm.

Tension thickened as the Dark‑Ink Steeds pushed on, the blood‑scent turning nearly solid and slowing them to a crawl.

Jett tracked the dark outlines of dragons circling overhead; each talon swipe against the unseen ward sparked a curtain of shimmering ripples.

Closer now, he saw the beasts clinging to a see‑through dome that wrapped the capital’s stone walls. Talons, jaws, and searing beams hammered the barrier without pause.

High above, squadrons of dragons strafed the barrier in staggered waves; breath geysers of emerald fire and sheets of crackling frost bled together like a shattered rainbow, turning the sky into a living apocalypse. Their very presence made it feel as though Judgment Day had come for humanity—and nothing could stop it.

Meanwhile, lesser lizards flooded the main gates and poured deeper into the city. Though dwarfed by the dragons, their coordinated rush, combined with sheer numbers and recklessness, made them a critical strategic asset. The swarm kept Skia’s defenders constantly on edge.

"It seems the ward repels dragons yet allows the lesser creatures through," Eleonora said calmly. "By doing so, it conserves mana and prolongs the barrier’s endurance."

Had she known the current lord sometimes baited a dragon inside—despite having only one dragonslayer under his command—and then flattened the beasts, she would have cheered.

Jett nodded, gaze locked on the hovering dragons. "All right—time for us to crash the party and wrap this up. I’m sick of watching those reptiles play in the clouds."

"Understood, Master." Eleonora smiled; the cue was given. She slipped onto the window frame and sprang out, landing on an invisible foothold that rippled once. Then she rocketed upward, her body a silver beam that instantly drew every dragon’s eye.

Bestial pupils tracked her arc, howls tearing after her. High above even the circling brood, she drew her sword and held it aloft at a diagonal; the tip burned like a lone silver star.

"Converge!" she cried, though the roar of dragons swallowed her command.

Even so, razor winds from every direction slammed into her figure, dragging clouds from the far corners of the world. The once‑clear crimson sky puffed up, layer upon layer of white rolling in like an onrushing tide.

Soon, clouds swept in, their bellies stained the same pale crimson.

A dignified, razor‑edged voice sliced through the tumult, reaching every soul on the battlefield.

"Cerven."

For a heartbeat, the world froze; humans, lizards, and dragons alike turned to stone. Then they somehow saw his silhouette.

...

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