Chapter 12: The Return… (Part 2)
The brief interlude at the beach had been exactly what I needed, but duty or celebration was calling again. As we walked back toward Kuo Kuana, the sounds of the city's heart grew louder.
The festival hadn't slowed in the slightest. Lanterns bobbed in the warm breeze, lighting the streets in gold and crimson. The air was thick with the scent of grilled meat, sweet fruit, and the faint salt of the sea. Laughter spilled from every alley, and music echoed from the square.
Before I knew it, my feet and the flow of the crowd had carried me back to the city's center.
Just like that night a few days ago, the great bonfire burned tall and proud, sending sparks spiraling into the starlit sky. I had to wonder, with a smirk, if it had ever gone out since then.
Yet instead of Chief Ghira's massive form greeting me at the front of the crowd, a softer voice spoke first.
"It's okay. I'll take it from here."
The guards immediately straightened. "As you wish, Chiefess Belladonna," one said before they bowed and withdrew.
I turned and met Kali Belladonna's knowing smile. The firelight danced across her features, lending her an almost regal glow. She had the kind of composure that made even rowdy soldiers instinctively hush.
"Chiefess," I greeted dramatically, inclining my head with a smile of my own. "Pleasure as always."
Kali's lips curved, catching on to my performance. "Likewise, Lord Samuel. Though after your many displays… I imagine the whole island's going to be talking about you for weeks."
We both chuckled softly before she suddenly leaned into me, her arms looping around my chest, her soft warmth pressing against me in a tight, unexpected hug.
"Ah—"
"It truly is so nice to see you again, Sam," she sighed, her voice low and full of genuine relief.
I hesitated for only a moment before returning the hug. I mean, come on—she was married, and she was gorgeous, and I wasn't about to look like an idiot stiffly standing there while a 10/10 woman hugged me. Even if… well, I may or may not also have had a tiny, annoying crush on her daughter.
Details.
"Whoa, hey now," I said with a lopsided grin, looking down at her. "I missed you too, but I was only gone for a couple of days!"
She pulled back, eyes still bright but now serious. "And I did warn you that the desert was dangerous. You're special to me, Sam. You're special to us." That tone was firm, motherly, and utterly disarming and unfortunately left no room for deflection.
"Haaa~ Alright~ Fine, I get it," I said, holding up my hands in surrender.
"Good!" she said with a pleased little hum. "I'll have you know you're already like a son to me."
I blinked. That hit me harder than I expected. The warmth in her words did something weird in my chest, it was something I wasn't used to feeling.
Kali must've noticed, because her expression softened immediately as her hand crept up to her heart. "Oh dear, I'm sorry. Did that make you uncomfortable?"
I waved both hands quickly. "No, not at all! I just… didn't have any parents is all."
Her eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. "So it didn't really make me uncomfortable—it's just… a new feeling, I guess."
"Oh… oh, my dear boy."
Before I could react, she sat down beside the fire on a long, sturdy log meant for seating, her ears flicking softly as she patted her thighs. "Samuel. Come, rest your head."
"Uhhh." My gaze darted from her lap… to the nearby Faunus still celebrating, laughing, and dancing under the lantern light… and back to her again.
The Belladonna matriarch caught my hesitation instantly. Her ears twitched once before she giggled, low and melodic. "Don't be shy now. You aren't the first person I've done this to."
Right. Totally normal. Just a friendly lap pillow from my boss's wife in the middle of a festival. Nothing weird about that at all.
After another cautious glance around and a deep breath for dignity's sake I stepped forward, sat down beside her, and carefully lowered my head onto her lap. The warmth of the fire mingled with her sweet scent, like fruit and smoke and something faintly floral.
The noise of the festival seemed to fade just a little. The cheers, the drums, the laughter. All of it all melted into the background hum of life. The world felt smaller. Softer even.
For once, I didn't feel the need to fill the silence. I just stared into the fire as it crackled, feeling the rise and fall of Kali's breath beneath my cheek.
"Comfy?" she asked with a smile I could hear even without looking.
"Yeah," I murmured, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. "It's… nice."
Her hand drifted to my hair, brushing through it gently. "Then rest for a while, Sam. You've earned it."
"...So you just give everyone lap pillows?" I asked, my words muffled slightly by the fabric of her dress.
Kali chuckled softly, the sound like a purr beneath her breath. "If the Chief is the father of the village, then that makes me its mother. It's no surprise that a child of Menagerie sometimes needs a shoulder to cry on or a lap to rest on. Even you."
She paused, fingers stilling briefly as she added, "It helps that I'm more approachable than Ghira. His size tends to… intimidate people, even when he doesn't mean to."
I chuckled at that, because yeah—she wasn't wrong. "This is really great and all, but what about Ghira?"
"He got busy wrangling the other chiefs and calming down the crowd." she said, smiling fondly. "You know, if it weren't for him, you'd have been swarmed constantly. You've got a lot of fans, Sam. Myself included."
I snorted, half flattered, half embarrassed. "I'll remember to thank him for that, then."
"I'll do that for you," she said with a wink. "Now hush."
"Yeah, sure." I said, then after a beat. "All right, mom."
For a second, I could've sworn Kali twitched.
"What was that?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to look up at her.
"What was what~?" she replied, her tone airy, playful.
So… probably just me then.
The fire popped softly, and I found my eyes growing heavier as the warmth sank deeper into my bones. Without thinking, I mumbled aloud what should've stayed in my head.
"I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me…"
There was a quiet beat. Then, so soft I almost missed it, I heard a murmur.
"…I think it has for me."
My eyes blinked open. "What was that?"
Kali smiled down at me, the kind of smile that could mean anything… or nothing at all. "Nothing~," she hummed.
I decided not to question it. The fire crackled softly, the night air cool against my skin, and her hand steady in my hair. I found myself sinking into what could only be called a comfortable silence where there was no silence, a rare peace in a life that rarely knew how to stop moving.
I truly thought I was going to sleep the night away again… until a voice called out to me.
"Mr. Sam!"
I blinked my eyes open, squinting at the figure jogging toward me through the firelight. A familiar wolf faunus boy, breathless and smiling from ear to ear.
"Hm? Oh, Jacob! There you are!" I said, straightening as I felt Kali's warmth retreat from beneath my head. I thought, just for a moment, that I saw her pout from the corner of my eye. "I hope the chickens haven't been too rough with you," I added with a grin, remembering the chaos that was Cream mentioned he got tangled up in.
"O-oh, I'm fine actually!" Jacob said, waving his hands quickly. "They were just… uh… playing. I didn't know they'd multiply that much after we fed them like you told us to!"
"Would you like me to take some of them off your hands, then? They won't multiply if I do that, but if it helps—"
"No!" he shouted so suddenly that even I blinked in surprise. A few faunus nearby turned at the noise.
Jacob's tail dropped instantly. "S-sorry, Mr. Sam! I didn't mean to shout. It's just… you're helping everyone on Menagerie with your chickens, right?"
I tilted my head. "...Yeah. That's right."
"Then this is fine!" he said, fists clenched, tail wagging behind him with determination. "With how many there are now, it's getting really hard, but… you've done so much for us already! This is nothing compared to that! So please, let us handle it!"
For a moment, I just stared at him. This kid, trying his hardest to stand tall in front of me and I couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped. "I can't say no to that, can I?"
Jacob's eyes went wide before his whole face lit up in joy. "R-really?!"
"Really," I said with a grin. "You've got this."
He looked like he wanted to jump in place, but then paused, squinting a little at something behind me. "Uh, Mr. Sam… what's that on your tail?"
"Hm? Oh, this?" I turned my tail around so that it curled into my lap, revealing its current state.
The sleek black surface was no longer sleek but was now covered in doodles, messy writing, stickers, and a few surprisingly accurate drawings of my face.
"When I was out in the desert, some kids at the outposts we visited couldn't help but decorate it," I explained, chuckling as I traced one of the little scribbles with a finger. "It started with a small mouse faunus who wanted to write 'Shark,' and… well, the rest followed once they saw it."
Jacob's sulked slightly. "Oh…"
I raised an eyebrow, already guessing the reason for that tone.
"...You want to put something on it too, don't you?"
His face brightened instantly, and behind me I could hear Kali's soft, amused laugh.
"R-really? Can I?"
"Sure thing. Just make sure it's tasteful." I winked.
Jacob grinned so wide his fangs showed, then darted off toward the tables. A moment later, a few other children spotted us.
"I want to put something on Lord Sam too!"
"Ooh! Ooh! Me next!"
"I've got stickers! I've got stickers for Mr. Shark!"
Before I could react, a small stampede of faunus children came barreling toward me, waving brushes, crayons, and glittery paper.
Kali laughed behind me, her voice soft but full of mischief. "You've really made a name for yourself, Sam."
I sighed, resigning myself to my fate as the kids surrounded me, tugging at my sleeves and tail. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just don't blame me when half of Menagerie's future art scene is plastered on my rear."
Her chuckle was warm. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."
And as laughter, chatter, and squeals of delight filled the night air again, I couldn't help smiling. For all the noise and chaos, there was something profoundly peaceful about it.
"Mr. Shark! What's this scary drawing?" Cream asked, tilting her head with her rlong rabbit ears flopped about as she tied a pink bow around my tail.
It was a stickman with a shark's tail on top of a scorpion's back, the scorpion sporting big X's for eyes.
"That's me," I said with mock seriousness, "beating the Sunpiercer to a pulp."
"Oh! And that's Big Sis Illy!" Cream pointed to another stick figure—this one with a ridiculously long line meant to be hair, a heart floating above it.
"It was that easy, huh?"
"Ehe~!"
"Lord Samuel, I have a question!" another child piped up.
"You can call me Sam," I said, smiling. "Go ahead."
"My momma told me you cracked open the monster like an egg and drank its blood, gaining the power of the desert. Is that true?"
"Uhh…" Before I could even start to process that, another kid blurted—
"My big sister said you're gonna have a hundred wives after freeing them from the Deathstalker's lair!"
"I mean, there was a lair, but I'm not sure about the hundred—"
Then came another: "My daddy said a million man-eating ostriches tried to eat your face, but you ate theirs instead!"
"Okay, stop." I raised both hands, the universal sign of surrender. The gaggle of kids went silent immediately, eyes wide and sparkling in the firelight.
"Now, would you like me to keep answering your questions…" I paused, lowering my voice into that storyteller's rhythm, "…or would you like me to hear how it really went in the desert?"
"Yeeeeaaaahhhh!" they chorused, jumping up and down.
Kali stepped in, smiling gently. "Children, it's been a long day and Sam just got back. Maybe we can have him tell the story tomorrow."
I waved her off lightly. "Nonsense, Mrs. Belladonna. I think I've got one more story in me before these little ones' bedtime."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing pout tugging at her lips. She didn't miss that I used her last name again. We were definitely on a first-name basis. I knew that. That's why I did it.
"I… I want to hear it too," said a faunus with long, twitching ears.
"Me too!" another voice called out.
This time, it wasn't just the kids. Adults, teens, and elders began gathering—forming loose circles around the bonfire. The night deepened, stars spilling like dust across the sky. The waves rolled softly against the sand, and somewhere behind me, Kali settled in with that same calm smile.
"Looks like the square's all yours again," Kali said, her tone a mixture of amusement and pride.
I took a deep breath, let the crackle of the fire fill the air, and began.
"Well then… there we were, on a dirt bike. Our metal steed roaring like a hungry beast as it tore across the dunes…"
[Adept Performance] was worth its weight in gacha tickets tonight. Every word seemed to catch the wind just right, carrying over the crowd as I painted the picture of our foray into the desert with me and Ilia against everything the sands could throw.
I told them about the chase first—the moment the Terrorbirds spotted us, shrieking from the horizon, their talons slicing through the air as they closed in. The crowd leaned forward, some holding their breath, others clutching their knees as I described the way our engine screamed in defiance while we weaved between their snapping beaks.
"They came at us like a sandstorm with wings," I said, my hand slicing through the air.
Then I told them of how it was Captain Wolf who sparked our charge against the Sunpiercer.
"And just when I thought the ravenous grimm were about to crash into us, Wolf, the brave captain of the Menagerie Guard, hefted her rifle and…"
"BANG!"
The children gasped, the adults laughed and cheered.
I also told them of the climax of the fight with the mutated Deathstalker.
"The dust, the feathers, the chaos. We both thought it was over until Ilia…" I paused dramatically, lowering my voice to a near whisper. "...got swallowed whole by the Sunpiercer."
A collective gasp spread through the crowd. Even the fire seemed to hush for a moment.
With a wave of my hand, water manifested in the air—clear, shimmering ribbons that twisted into the shape of a massive scorpion-like Grimm. The Sunpiercer's silhouette loomed tall above the crowd, its tail arcing menacingly overhead, glowing almost gold from the firelight. Gasps turned to awe.
I guided the water sculpture to reenact the battle—myself, a tiny blue figure, weaving against the beast's claws. Each motion was fluid, perfect and I knew [Adept Performance] was making sure of that. My gestures carried a rhythm, my voice the heartbeat of the scene itself.
"And then," I continued, "we found it. Beneath the dunes, buried in rust and secrets—the old facility. Cages of every size, still humming faintly with stolen life. That's where the Faux-nus began."
Silence. Even the youngest kids were still, their faces bathed in firelight.
"In fact," I said with a grin. "Right now out there, against the endless sand, they are hard at work, taming the viciousness of it all for the faunus of Menagerie…"
I raised my arm and with a sharp flick, a column of water shot skyward before crystallizing into a glittering bird of stormy blue light.
The Stormbird then soared above us in the sky, letting out a metallic, echoing screech that rippled through the square like thunder. Sparks scattered in its wake, dancing with the flames.
The crowd erupted. Cheers, whistles, applause, even laughter.
Kali's laughter rang clear and melodic above the crackle of the fire. "Bravo!"
I bowed with a flourish, taking in the applause, the cheers, and even a few wolf whistles that I chose to pretend weren't directed at me.
"Bravo indeed! Hahaha!" A booming voice rolled through the square, and the crowd parted instinctively.
"Chief Ghira!" someone called out as the towering cat faunus strode forward, flanked by Menagerie Guards and—oh hey—Captain Wolf herself. Her blonde tail flicked once, and for a heartbeat her composure slipped when our eyes met. Then she straightened, adopting her usual stoic air and gave me a polite nod.
"You must think I'm a terrible host to have left you earlier," Ghira said, his tone both apologetic and amused.
"Not at all," I waved it off with an easy grin. "Kali told me you had some important 'chiefly duties' to check off the list. I get it."
Kali crossed her arms with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Though we might need to have a talk about suddenly having your wife fill in for you."
Before the chief could respond, she reached up and tugged his ear.
"Ow! I give! I give!"
The crowd broke into laughter—some clapping in delight. Even I couldn't help but snort.
Once the cat matriarch finally released him, Ghira rubbed his ear with a mock pout before regaining his usual composure. Then he spread his arms wide, his deep voice carrying effortlessly over the bonfire's hum.
"Brothers and sisters! Tonight, we celebrate more than a victory. We give thanks for another day together!" His tone grew softer as he placed a hand on a nearby young dog faunus, who giggled at the gesture. "Let us also give thanks to the Lord who watches over his children."
He turned toward a tall statue I hadn't noticed before. It was half-hidden behind the firelight and was carved from pale stone, depicting some sort of stag faunus with proud antlers and a serene, almost knowing expression.
"The God of Animals," Ghira said reverently, bowing his head. The rest of Kuo Kuana followed suit, their voices quiet, respectful.
Ah. So they did have gods here. Should've guessed. Every world read about seemed to have a few divine figures hanging around somewhere. And honestly, after being isekai'd, I wasn't about to rule out the idea that some of them were very, very real.
When Ghira straightened again, his voice rang out once more. Proud, commanding, but brimming with joy.
"And how could we forget to thank the presence of this miraculous young man, whom we honor tonight!" He gestured toward me with a wide smile.
The cheers returned, louder this time. Some clapped, some bowed, a few even called out my name in chant.
I laughed, scratching the back of my neck. "I just did what felt right."
At first, it had just been about winning a bet, about scratching that gambler's itch but now, standing here under the firelight, surrounded by faces full of gratitude and pride…it felt like something else.
Something bigger.
A bonus, sure, but a damn satisfying one.
"As humble as ever," Ghira said with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Tomorrow, Kuo Kuana and all of Menagerie will welcome you as one of her own but for tonight…"
He raised his arms high, his voice booming with the confidence of a born leader.
"Let us be merry! Let us dance to the music of our forefathers! Let us sing the songs of our stories!"
The crowd roared in answer. Then came the rhythm. Deep, earthy, and alive.
Drums struck like thunder. Stones clicked together like castanets. Hands clapped and feet stamped in wild syncopation. The air pulsed with life as the bonfire flared higher, painting everything in molten orange.
The faunus of Kuo Kuana moved as one like each beat a heartbeat, each cheer a breath. Laughter filled the night sky as strings, flutes, and improvised instruments joined in, creating a music that was both ancient and alive.
Amid the celebration, Ghira made his way to me, a tankard already in hand. "Sam, my boy! What do you think?"
He didn't wait for an answer, tipping the tankard back and downing its contents in a single, heroic gulp that made me blink.
"First of all—woah."
He burst into a deep, belly-shaking laugh that turned a few heads nearby.
"Second of all," I said with a grin, "it's great. No words can describe it. Thank you."
"All of this wouldn't have been possible without you, Sam."
"Please," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, "it was nothing at all."
Ghira snorted—a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest. "Nothing, he says." He turned toward the fire, watching sparks spiral upward into the warm Menagerie night. "First, you beat back a band of Grimm that had been terrorizing our farms when you arrived. Then, a few days later, you dove beneath the sea and came back with enough fish to feed the city for weeks."
He arched a brow at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. "And let's not forget what you've been up to in the desert. And you still think that's nothing?"
"Huh." I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of his words. "I guess you're right."
Maybe it was time to stop pretending I was ordinary. For all my fish lungs and gambler's luck, I'd been trying to play it cool like I was just another wanderer. But maybe Ghira had a point. Maybe it was time to start acting like one of the exceptionals.
The music around us softened. Some of the drummers slowed their rhythm, sensing the shift in mood. The laughter and chatter faded into a gentle hum beneath the stars. Ghira's eyes glimmered in the firelight as he spoke again, voice quieter now—almost reflective.
"You know," he began, "you remind me of myself when I was younger. A time before the titles, before the duties."
He paused, his gaze lingering on the flames. "There's an old song my father used to sing. He was the last chief before me. He'd sing it whenever things got hard. He said it reminded him that everything we do, in some way, serves a greater purpose."
Then that knowing grin returned. "I think it suits the night, don't you?"
Before I could respond, Ghira handed his empty tankard to a nearby guard, stepped closer to the fire, and let his deep baritone carry across the square.
"A single thread in a tapestry,
Though its color brightly shines…"
The crowd hushed. Even the fire crackled quieter, as if listening.
"Can never see its purpose,
In the pattern of the grand design…"
The instruments picked up gently—wooden flutes, soft drums, and the rhythmic tapping of feet.
"And the sand that sits on the very top,
Of a dune's mighty face…
Does it think it's more important,
Than the ones that form the base~?"
Ghira turned toward me, grinning wide enough to show teeth, and strode over, still singing.
"So how can you see what your life is worth,
Or where its value lies~?"
Before I could even process what was happening, the massive chieftain pulled me in by the shoulder, nearly lifting me off my feet. His laughter rumbled like a drumbeat against my ribs.
"You can never see through the eyes of man—
You must look at your life…"
He raised his arm toward the sky, where countless stars shimmered like scattered silver dust.
"Look at your life through Heaven's eyes!"
My eyes widened as the music surged back to life with a joyful roar. The Faunus sang out, clapping to the beat, their laughter ringing through the air. Some linked arms and spun around the fire, their shadows dancing wildly against the sand.
"La-la-la, lee-lai-lai-lai. Lai-lai-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai-lai. Lai-lai-lai-lai, lee-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai~!"
The chieftain had already left my side, swept up by the energy of the crowd. His deep voice boomed as he sang along, his heavy steps shaking the earth in rhythm.
I felt a tug on my pant leg.
It was Cream—her big eyes glowing with excitement. "C'mon, Mr. Shark! Dance with us!"
My heart did a little flip at that. "Oh, no. I don't dance…" I said, nudging her gently toward the others.
"D'aww…" she pouted before skipping off anyway, joining the ring of Faunus twirling around the bonfire.
I chuckled, settling back down on a log and clapping along instead. "You'd think with how in-tune they are, you'd guess this song gets sung a lot," I said to no one in particular.
"It does."
I turned to see Captain Wolf sitting beside me, the firelight catching in her blonde hair. She had a tankard in one hand and that usual air of composed aura about her.
"Captain! Sorry I was late earlier today—you probably had to cover for me."
"Think nothing of it." She took a sip, smirking. "But if you really want to make it up to me, you can get Whisper to delete that—"
"Yeeah… no chance in hell." I grinned.
That photo was a treasure. Where else was I going to get a picture of my superior officer drunk off her ass, trying to arm wrestle a fisherman?
"I thought so…" She sighed, but her smirk returned. "Can't blame a girl for trying."
She leaned back, eyes half-lidded as she watched the dancers. "As for the song—it gets sung every now and then, but…" Her voice softened. "Never like this. Not this lively."
"Why's that?" I asked.
"Because tonight, everyone believes." She glanced at me with a faint, knowing smile. "Believes that everything we've done, everything we've lost, led us here. Some might even think…" She gestured with her tankard. "…that it led to you."
I opened my mouth to reply, but she smirked again and tilted her chin toward the fire. "Don't look now. Here he comes again."
And sure enough—Ghira was back.
"No life can escape being blown out by the winds of change and chance…"
His shadow loomed large as he sang, that grin of his wider than ever.
"And though you'll never know all the steps—"
"Wha—wait—" I started to protest, but he was already closing in.
"And though you'll never know all the steps…"
"Ghira, I don't dance!"
"You must learn to join the dance! You must learn to join the dance~!"
Before I could dodge, the chieftain's massive hands clamped down on my shoulders and shoved.
I braced for impact—feet skidding, heart jumping—
—but instead of crashing into someone, I was caught.
"Dance with me?"
I blinked.
Ilia stood before me, smiling shyly beneath a wreath of woven flowers. Her sundress had been traded for something lighter and tropical, its colors soft against the firelight.
"I—uh…" My brain short-circuited. "Yeah. Sure."
I took her hand.
"La-la-la, lee-lai-lai-lai. Lai-lai-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai-lai. Lai-lai-lai-lai, lee-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai-lai, lai-lai-lai~!"
The drums rose again, laughter rippling through the night like waves. The dirt shifted under our feet as I moved awkwardly at first. I tried to mimic the rhythm, failing spectacularly.
Turns out [Adept Performance] didn't cover dancing. Well, maybe it did if I was trying to impress a crowd.
But I wasn't.
Not right now.
Not when the only person I wanted to impress was her.
I stumbled once, twice—then, with a subtle flicker of the Sharingan, I found the rhythm as the world slowed just enough to catch the flow of her steps…alongside the sway of her hips, the warmth of her smile.
"You're cheating…" she said coyly, catching my hand mid-spin. Her tone was teasing, but her amber eyes sparkled with just the right amount of accusation.
"I guess Whisper told you?" I smirked, easing her back into the rhythm.
"That," she admitted with a huff, "and some other things…"
Her skin flushed a soft pink that crept all the way to the tips of her ears. I blinked, trying not to grin too wide.
"Oh? Other things, huh?" I said as I twirled her, the hem of her skirt catching the firelight. "Can I ask what it was about?"
The spin ended and instead of falling back into my arms, Ilia stopped dead. The music and laughter carried on around us, but for a moment it felt like the world had gone still.
She curled into herself slightly, fingers brushing her arm as if weighing something heavy. Her breath trembled once before she exhaled, gathering the courage to look up at me.
"How about…" she began softly, almost swallowed by the crackle of the fire, "…we show you instead?"
"Show me?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
Her only response was a nervous little squeak before she took a few steps back, her tail-like hair flicking once in the firelight. Then she turned, glanced over her shoulder with a look that sent a jolt through me as if half daring and half uncertain and ducked into one of the narrow alleyways leading away from the square.
I stood there for a moment before my curiosity (and something warmer) urged me to follow.
"Oof!"
I toppled backward with a surprised grunt, the plush comforter of her bed swallowing me whole.
I blinked up at the ceiling, my long shark tail twitching in confusion against the rumpled sheets. My gaze dropped to see both women standing over me. Ilia, her long brown hair framing a face set with flushed, and a cute but determined focus. And Whisper, her tanned skin glowing in the low light, a pair of alert blonde wolf ears twitching atop her head with a mischievous, knowing smile playing on her lips.
"Before we met with Blake and after the beach, me and Whisper spoke about a few things…" Ilia said, her voice a low, steady thrum that went straight to my core. She wasn't asking. She was stating a fact. A glorious, unbelievable fact.
Whisper's giggle was a soft, husky sound. "A lot of things, really."
My mouth opened, then closed. I was a fish out of water…or a shark in a very, very interesting net. "Talked about… what, exactly?"
Ilia leaned over, one hand resting on the bed on either side of my hips, caging me in. Her hair brushed my cheek. "Whisper?"
The wolf faunus crawled onto the bed with a fluid, predatory grace, her movements eerily silent. She settled on her knees beside me, her ears giving a happy little wag that thumped softly against her head. "We want a repeat performance," she purred, her blue eyes gleaming. "Don't look so surprised. I told Faunus can get freaky."
Then their hands were on me. Ilia's, familiar and possessive, sliding under my shirt, her nails scraping gently up my stomach. Whisper's, newer, more exploratory, tracing the line of my jaw before threading into my black hair. A low groan rattled in my chest, my hips giving an involuntary jerk.
Ilia's mouth found mine, her motions were soft and questioning. Her tongue swept into my mouth, tasting of mint and heat. At the same time, Whisper's lips were on my neck, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that quickly turned into a gentle, teasing bite that made me gasp into Ilia's kiss.
My hands, which had been frozen at my sides, finally got the message. One fumbled for Ilia's waist, pulling her closer. The other found the base of one of Whisper's ears, scratching lightly. She moaned against my neck, a deep, vibrating sound, and pressed her entire body against my side.
"Mmmph."
They worked in tandem, a perfect, devastating team. Ilia pulled my shirt over my head while Whisper's clever fingers made quick work of my clothes. The clack of the buttons to the shush of my pants being tugged down my hips—every sound was amplified, a symphony of anticipation.
Whisper's head dipped, her blonde hair tickling my stomach. Her tongue, hot and wet, traced a line from my navel down to the waistband of my boxers. I arched off the bed, a strangled sound catching in my throat. Ilia just watched, her eyes dark with desire, her fingers pinching and rolling one of my nipples, sending sharp, sweet jolts through me.
"I think he's ready for us, Illy," Whisper murmured, her voice thick.
Ilia just smiled, a wild, beautiful thing, and hooked her fingers into my boxers, pulling them down in one smooth motion. The cool air hit my heated skin for just a second before Whisper's mouth replaced it.
Oh, fuck.
My head slammed back against the pillows. Her mouth was an inferno of wet, silken heat. Her tongue, impossibly agile, swirled around the head of my cock before she took me deep, her throat opening up without a hint of hesitation.
"Glrk."
The sound was obscene, perfect just like last time.
"Fuck, Whisp," I hissed, my hands immediately found tangling in her hair.
She took me deeper, learning my shape, my texture, with her mouth. She lapped at the bead of moisture that gathered at the tip, a tiny preview of what was to come, and it was euphoric.
It was like she was consumed by the need to get more, to drink me down.
My grip on her hair tightened, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. Ilia was perfectly still, a statue of intense observation, and I knew she was witnessing her friend's complete and utter unraveling.
"I'm close," Sam warned, his voice strangled. "So close."
Yet she didn't pull away. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, and took me as deep as she could, her invitation clear.
That was all it took. With a guttural shout, I came. The first pulse was a shock of heat and that incredible, indescribable feeling was concentrated and melting.
Then came the second pulse. Then the third. Then fourth. All the way to the lucky seventh.
She continued to drink me down, swallowing greedily, her body seemed to be convulsing with her own silent, overwhelming orgasm just from the taste alone.
She collapsed onto my stomach, spent and trembling, lapping gently at my cock, as if savoring the last traces.
Illia shivered from her spot on the bed, her eyes gleaming. "Whisper? Was it really that good?" She gulped as her gaze fixed on Whisper's blissful, satiated face.
She managed a dazed, happy hum, nuzzling on my stomach. "Babe, for some reason his spunk is delicious. You've got to try this."
"Actually, I just figured out how to do it just this morning."
"I say again, 'What can't you do?'"
However, Ilia's wide, gray eyes were fixed on my length, her full lips slightly parted. She licked them, a quick, anxious flick of her tongue.
"You don't have to," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
She shook her head, a quick, sharp movement. "I want to." Her voice was barely a whisper. She reached out, her fingers hovering just above my skin, trembling. The anticipation was a physical thing like a tight coil in my gut.
Christ, the hesitation is fucking hot.
Her fingertips finally made contact, brushing the base of my shaft. It's the lightest touch, a ghost of a sensation, but it made my entire body tense. She was exploring, her touch impossibly gentle as she traced the thick vein along the underside, her eyes wide with a kind of reverent curiosity.
Ilia's tongue darted out, a shy, tentative lick from base to tip. The flavor must have hit her then as her eyes fluttered closed for a second, and a soft, surprised sound escaped her—a little oh of pure, unadulterated discovery.
…
What followed was delicious depravity made manifest.
"Ilia…" I gritted out.
She understood but instead of pulling away, she redoubled her efforts, her mouth working me with a furious, desperate intensity. Her sucking became more forceful, her tongue lashed at the most sensitive spot just below the head.
That's all it took.
The climax tears through me with the force of a detonation. A guttural roar is ripped from my throat as I come, my body bowing off the comforter. The first pulse this time was like a blinding shock of pleasure, and I felt her swallow instinctively, her throat working around me. The second, the third—she took it all, drinking me down with a soft, desperate noise that is half-moan, half-sob.
…
"Fuuuck~!" Whisper cried out, her voice was like a sharp, happy bark. My hips began moving immediately in a frantic, animalistic rhythm that had her nails digging into the flesh of my back for purchase. Every slap of my skin against hers was a loud, wet smack that echoed in the room.
Plap. Plap. Plap.
A few more minutes and I felt my rhythm begin to fracture. My movements became jerky, uncontrolled and her inner muscles fluttered around me, a rapid, rhythmic pulse that became her undoing. A high, sharp whine escaped her throat, climbing into a full-throated howl as her orgasm slammed into her.
Her body clamped down on me, trembling violently, milking me, demanding everything I had.
It was the final trigger as the coil in my belly snapped and with a roar that felt like it came from the deepest part of me, I buried myself as deep inside her as I could possibly go and let go. There was no respite, no cooling off. My release was a torrent, a relentless, pumping splurt deep within her depths. I pulsed again and again, filling her, my body shuddering with the force of it.
"Uouugh~" was the blonde wolf's only response as we collapsed together in a heap of sweaty, heaving limbs.
…
I settled between Ilia's thighs, cradled by the heat of her. Her eyes fluttered shut as I filled her, a low, trembling mmph escaping her lips. She was so wet, so ready, her body welcoming me with a familiar, clutching heat.
Schlllp.
"Sam," she whispered, her voice cracking on the single syllable.
I leaned down, capturing her mouth with mine. The kiss was deep, soulful, a stark contrast to the building tempest in our joined bodies. I tasted her, the unique flavor that was purely Ilia, and it fueled me as my hips pistoned a little faster, a little harder.
Thap-thap-thap.
A single, perfect tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing a path through the faint blush on her cheek. It wasn't a tear of pain. It was of feeling. Of being so utterly overwhelmed by sensation that her body has to express it somehow.
"Oh, gods," she choked out, breaking our kiss to gasp for air. "Don't stop. Please."
"More," she begged, her voice rising in pitch and another tear followed the first. "Please, Sam. I need… I need more."
Her legs locked around my waist, her heels digging into the small of my back, pulling me into her with a desperation I've felt from her that night a few days ago.
I gave her what she asked for as my pace turned frantic and possessive. I plunged into her, my own control beginning to shred at the edges. The coil in my gut was a white-hot knot, tightening with every choked sob that falls from her lips. Her nails scraped down my back with a frantic, gripping need.
"Yesss~" she hissed, her head thrashing on the pillow. "Right there! Right there!"
The muscles in her stomach quivered and her inner walls started to clench around me in a rapid, rhythmic spasm.
Pulse-pulse-pulse.
The sensation was exquisite, a milking pressure that threatened to end me.
"I'm… I'm gonna…" she cried, her words dissolved into a wordless, keening wail.
The coil snapped. My vision whited out as my own release crashed over me, a roaring, unstoppable tide. I buried myself to the hilt.
Splurt. Splurt-splurt.
A hot, pumping rush emptied into her, each pulse wracked my body with a shuddering jolt.
"Guh… unh… ah!" The sounds were torn from her, guttural and raw.
…And that was only the first hour.
…
"Haa… haa…"
My back hit the bed as I sank into the comforter, the softness swallowing me whole as I reveled in the sweet exhaustion. The night had been long as laughter, music, and dancing still echoed faintly from the square outside. Now, only the quiet hum of a dust-powered fan and the sound of our breathing filled the room.
Whisper was the first to drop beside me, her skin red in exertion and slick with sweat, hair wild and golden against the pillow. "Fuuuuck," she panted out in exhaustion. "I thought…we'd be up…all night."
"Do you… still want to?" I breathed out with a smirk.
Ilia mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, muffled by the pillow she clung to.
Whisper chuckled weakly. "Illy's right. You wore us out…again."
Technically, I could've kept going with [Carnal Engine]. It was ready to push me past the limits of regular stamina…if it had something to do with sex. What it did not do was help with the stamina that was already lost after everything that happened today.
"The body's willing," I sighed, rolling onto my back, "but the spirit, at the moment, is weak and spongy."
That earned a soft laugh from both of them. Whisper draped an arm over my chest and let out a sigh, her ears flicking lazily before going still. "Way to go and blow a woman's self-confidence." she murmured, voice slurred with sleep.
"I didn't mean—"
Before I could finish, she reached up and flicked my chin. "Relax," she whispered, smiling. ""I'm just joking. Good night, Sammy~
Her breathing evened out soon after, slow and deep. She was fast asleep before I could even reply.
"Sam?"
I turned my head to see Ilia peeking out from her pillow, her hair a tangle of pink and brown under the moonlight streaming through the window. Her eyes were soft — the kind that made you forget there was ever danger or pain outside this room.
"Yeah?"
She hesitated, then leaned in and pressed a small kiss to my cheek. "Thank you… for everything," she murmured. Her voice trembled just a little. "I—"
But the words caught in her throat. She blushed, hid her face in my neck instead. I felt her breath against my collarbone — warm, shaky, real.
I chuckled quietly, resting a hand on her head, gently running my fingers through her hair until her breathing slowed.
Words had already been said and we understood.
Feat Achieved!
You've seduced the younger sister of the Menagerie Guard's captain into your budding harem!
Reward: +1 Silver Familiar Gacha Ticket
Feat Achieved!
You've seduced Ilia, a top-tier operative of the White Fang, into your budding harem!
Reward: +1 Gold Familiar Gacha Ticket
I blinked.
Then narrowed my eyes at the audacity of the floating text shimmering above my head. The gentle quiet of the room with two sleeping girls curled up against me was suddenly tainted by the smug glow of the system window.
"Really?" I muttered under my breath. "You're ranking them now?"
Whisper murmured something incoherent in her sleep, nuzzling into my arm, while Ilia's fingers tightened ever so slightly against my chest.
I sighed.
The thought gnawed at me though. Why was Ilia worth Gold while Whisper was only Silver? What, was there some kind of arbitrary emotional value system? Political importance multiplier? A hidden SSR personality stat?
I rubbed the bridge of my nose and forced the irritation out with a long breath. Getting worked up over divine RNG wasn't worth it.
Instead, I looked down at the two peacefully resting beside me. Whisper's ears flicked once before settling, while Ilia's hair had gone back to its natural hue, framing her face like soft brushstrokes.
Leaning in, I pressed a kiss to the crown of each of their heads — one after the other.
"Gold, silver… doesn't matter," I whispered, smiling faintly. "You're both priceless to me."
The system stayed quiet like it always did but even it seemed to respect the moment.
…
Spinning the Chaos Gacha…
Well. Better put these pulls to good use.
Congratulations!
[Skeleton Band]
|Common Familiar|
This band is bad to the bone. It is a conglomerate of skeletons capable of playing any instrument with fair skill and supplied with full band equipment. They are completely incapable of combat or harming but are also incapable of being targeted by harm. Just summon them and choose the jam they should sing and dance to. If they get hit by an attack they will fall apart comically before reforming to perfect condition in less than a second and resume their song without interruption.
A soft chuckle escaped me. Only Whisper's ticket could possibly give me this. It should help me a lot alongside my [Adept Performance].
Now for the other one—
Congratulations!
[Grimm Wyvern]
|Epic Familiar|
RWBY - A gigantic Grimm Wyvern, as a Grimm the Wyvern can sense and track negative emotions. Its gigantic size makes it a powerful mount strong enough to sink warships. In addition, it can release Grimm fluid that spawns lesser Grimm that it can command.
…
…There were dragons in Remnant?
A few hours later into the night…
It had been a few hours since the celebration ended. The rhythmic drumming and laughter of the festival had faded into the distant hum of the sleeping city, leaving only the soft crackle of fire to fill the silence within the Belladonna abode.
Ghira sat behind the heavy wooden table, a half-empty mug of amber liquor in his hand. The flames painted his broad frame in flickering shades of gold and shadow, reflecting the weight of what he'd just revealed.
Across from him stood the captain of the Menagerie Guard, Wolf. Her arms were crossed, her expression tight, but the subtle twitch in her brow betrayed her irritation. She'd been quiet as Ghira spoke, but now that the story was laid bare, her patience had finally run out.
"Seeing as you've seen him in action the longest," Ghira began, voice low but carrying the weight of command. "Tell me your honest opinion… Is he who we think he is?"
Wolf didn't hesitate. "If it stops you from doing something this insane, then no—he isn't."
Ghira's eyes closed. "Wolf… if that's your answer as my old friend, then what's the answer of my Captain?"
The wolf faunus sighed heavily. "You really want it straight?"
He gave a firm nod.
"Fine. His power set is… chaotic," she said, pacing a slow line in front of the fire. "Random, even. The kind of random that makes you think someone up there's rolling dice just to mess with him. The most interesting thing, though, are his eyes."
"I've read about them in your reports," Ghira said. "The ones that grant him control over hellfire?"
"That and more." Wolf's tail flicked back at the memory. "A few hours. That's all it took him to copy me and my team's fighting styles. A single glance, and he reads you like a book. It's like he can see a punch before it even leaves your shoulder."
Ghira leaned forward, his expression grave. "Incredible…"
"And that isn't even half of it." She crossed her arms. "Every day, he grows stronger. Every day, he learns something new. The last ability I saw? He started making cement. Cement, Ghira. The man looked me dead in the eye and built a wall mid-fight."
"Cement," Ghira echoed, blinking. "That's… oddly specific."
"Yeah, and the kicker?" Wolf jabbed a finger toward the table. "He's not even using aura when he does it. None of it. I had a faunus with a sensory-type semblance scan him. Nothing. Sam's are invisible to aura perception."
Ghira hummed deeply, both impressed and disturbed. "Nothing at all?"
"Not a blip." She shook her head. "I watched him as he made the first in-road from Oka Waiwao to Outpost Four. He bent the sand, the earth, the rocks and our sensor stayed blank."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then perhaps the stories aren't so far-fetched after all…"
"Don't start with that again," Wolf muttered.
"Any weaknesses?" The chief of Kuo Kuana asked as he leaned forward.
Wolf raised a brow…then shook her head with a smile before it disappeared. "He's just as reckless as you when you were young."
Ghira chuckled deeply.
"He fights like a young man, with nothing held back. Admirable, but mistaken."
She continued. "Even with those eyes, I still managed to trip him up once. But only once. Try the same trick again, and you'll eat dirt. He learns fast. Scary fast."
Ghira nodded. "Limits?"
"I've noticed he could only use two abilities at once, max. Five minutes before he can swap to it again. I called him out on it when I thought he was just pissing us off by holding back, and he admitted even he doesn't know why. It's like he's bound by some internal rule he can't break."
"Hmm." The chief's expression remained observant. "Anything else?"
"His stamina is terrible." Wolf said bluntly, downing half her drink. "Though he's improved in just a few days, if he fights too many at once, he burns out fast. Still, his area-denial tricks make up for it. You just have to pray you're not the one in the area."
"And one-on-one?"
Wolf met his eyes over the rim of her mug. "If you face him alone… and he finds his rhythm? You're done for."
Ghira didn't flinch. "Then so be it."
The crash of glass filled the tent as Wolf slammed her mug against the floor, shards scattering. "The hell it is! Ghira, you've got a family! A wife, a daughter! Why throw that away for this?"
"Because this is bigger than me!" Ghira roared, standing tall, his presence filling the tent. "Bigger than any of us!"
Wolf stared up at him, unshaken. "For what? Some half-remembered legend?"
Ghira's tone softened, but his eyes were firm. "Our legend, Wolf. The story of our people. The only thing humanity couldn't take from us."
She snorted. ""Well excuse me if I find it hard to believe that God kills his followers after they resigned to his 'Judgement'."
Ghira exhaled slowly and sat back down. "No matter what you believe, His Will… will come to pass."
Wolf crossed her arms, tail flicking in irritation. "I could tell him, you know. Warn Sam. Maybe he'll walk away. Maybe that's what he needs."
"You won't."
"Oh?" she challenged. "And why's that, Chief?"
"Because if you do," Ghira said quietly, "I'll have no choice but to remove you as Captain of the Guard…until after the ceremony and place you under house arrest."
Her jaw tightened. For a moment, the firelight caught the tears in her eyes before she turned away, clenching her fists. "You know what? Fine! Go ahead and get yourself killed! See if I care!"
She wiped at her face, then straightened, fire back in her voice. "You're looking for volunteers, right? Then you're looking at her."
"You're being unreasonable—"
"No, you are!" she snapped. "I trained that boy. I know him and I know for a fact that he doesn't have a single bone in his body that would let him murder someone in cold blood."
"I know," Ghira said gently. "But there's something else—something you and I both saw in him. Something that tells me what drove him to fight and get where he is now."
Wolf's expression froze. "Oh hell, no! You are not dragging my sister or my niece into this!" Though not related by blood she considered the chameleon Faunus as one of her own.
"W-what!? Of course I'm not! How could you possibly come to that conclusion!" Ghira sputtered quickly. "This is something different."
"Then what?" she demanded. "What could possibly push him that far—?"
Her words died on her tongue as the realization hit her.
"Oh," she whispered. "Oh no."
Ghira's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "You see it too."
"Tell me you're not serious," Wolf groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"I've already spoken to the Administrators," Ghira said, leaning back, hands clasped. "The plan is in motion."
Wolf's tail flattened. "And what did they say?"
…
"He's lying," one of the Albain brothers said, his tone sharp and certain.
"This we can be assured of," the other continued, voice dripping with that trademark twin smugness.
Across the dimly lit chamber, Sienna Khan's tail ears in restrained agitation. The firelight painted her amber eyes gold as she leaned forward on the table. "So he's not what we think he is?" she asked, her tone edged with something dangerously close to hope.
"Oh no," the first brother replied with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "He really is the real deal."
Sienna's expression hardened. "Then what did he lie about?"
"That little story about his amnesia," the second said, tracing a lazy finger along the table's surface. "He wasn't being completely truthful."
"Not in the sense of losing memories of Remnant," the first clarified. "It's more likely he never had any memories of it to begin with."
Sienna's voice turned low, wary. "How can that even be possible?"
Both brothers exchanged a glance—one of those silent, unsettling communications that always made people feel like they were the butt of an inside joke. Then, as one, they smiled.
"He's a god, Khan," said the first. "A being far older and stranger than anything that crawls or flies on this world."
"In his mercy," the second continued seamlessly, "he chose to walk among the people he created, reborn with only a shard of his former power—perhaps to understand them, or perhaps to test them."
Sienna's hands clenched into fists against the table, the sound of her claws scraping wood barely audible under her voice. "And how can you be sure?" she growled, her patience thinning.
The twins looked at each other again. Then, in perfect unison, they gave that same cryptic smile that always seemed to mock both question and questioner.
"It's like we've said time and time again…"
"We have an approximate knowledge of many things."
The fire crackled, punctuating their words like divine irony.
Sienna exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting toward the shadows beyond the torchlight. The flicker of the flames danced across the walls of her headquarters, casting long, shifting silhouettes that looked far too much like ghosts of choices past.
She had been hard at work all week—coordinating the extravagant luau thrown earlier that evening, overseeing the re-armament of the Vale branch of the White Fang, and now… preparing for the ceremony tomorrow.
That cursed ceremony.
She never imagined that a simple meeting at the start of the week would spiral into this web of omens and obligations. And yet, here she was, sitting in the quiet aftermath of it all, preparing herself to be judged by something far greater than any council or government.
A hollow laugh nearly escaped her throat. Judged. By him.
It was clear she was deader than dead.
She couldn't even muster anger at the Albain brothers for their earlier… proposition. It had been vile, manipulative—and yet, in a small, shameful part of her heart, she almost wished Sam had accepted it. At least then, her end might have been more gentle. Merciful.
And now she was being told that the shark Faunus was the genuine article—a god, walking among them.
What else could possibly go wrong?
I could run away, a small, desperate voice whispered inside her mind. Disappear before dawn. Start again somewhere far from all this madness.
"And don't think about running away with your tail between your legs, Khan," one of the Albains said smoothly, the faintest smirk curling his lips as if he'd plucked the thought right out of her head.
"His Will is absolute, of course," the other added, his voice low and reverent.
A shiver ran through her despite the warmth of the fire. Their timing, their perception—it was unnatural. Always was. And yet, anger quickly chased away the fear, burning through her veins like venom.
"Why can't I have you two take my place then?" she hissed, glaring at them through half-lidded eyes that gleamed in the firelight.
The brothers chuckled softly in eerie unison.
"You are the High Leader of the White Fang," one said, as though explaining something obvious to a child. "The one chosen to reach for the equality between Faunus and Man—just as the God of Animals once did."
"It is tradition," the other added smoothly. "And besides… someone must ensure that all goes well."
Sienna's tail lashed once against the floor. "And the Chief of Kuo Kuana?"
"Will serve as Menagerie's representative," came the calm reply. "The Father of Faunus, standing beside the Mother of Revolution."
"If only you shared his zeal," the first Albain murmured.
"Indeed," echoed the second, almost like a reflection in a cracked mirror.
Sienna's jaw tightened until her teeth ached. The firelight danced on her bronze skin, throwing shadows that looked far too much like shackles. The air was thick as if scented with incense, smoke, and something that felt like judgment.
She exhaled, long and tired, letting her shoulders slump. "What is it that I have to do again…" she muttered, sounding more like a condemned soul than a leader.
"Young Samuel will most likely not go ahead with the ceremony," said one brother, his tone smooth as oil.
"Not with his disposition," the other added, hands clasped behind his back. "That's where you come in."
Before they could elaborate, the doors burst open with a loud crash.
Adam Taurus stormed in, his boots slamming against the floorboards. His coat was torn, his face sported a fresh, angry scratch, and his aura of indignation filled the room before his voice even did.
"High Leader Sienna! This is a waste of time!" he barked, gesturing wildly.
"You could say that again," she muttered under her breath, though no one seemed to hear.
The Albains didn't flinch. Sienna didn't even look up.
"What is it, Operative Taurus?" she asked, her voice calm in that weary way that only exhaustion allows. "Can't you see you've interrupted a very important meeting?"
Adam's jaw clenched. "My apologies, High Leader… Administrators. But using precious time and resources to search for a useless toy? It's unbecoming of the Fang!"
The twins exchanged a look that could only be described as amused pity. They smiled like patient teachers watching a child throw a tantrum over spilled milk.
"Mr. Taurus," began the first Albain.
"That 'toy' you're referring to," continued the second, "is a prototype—the prototype—of the Clentaminator. A tool capable of purging Grimm corruption at its source. Worth a hundred operatives, easily."
"And since it went missing shortly after Operative Amitola's presentation here," the first added smoothly, "the honour of recovering it falls to you."
"Unless…" The second let the word linger like a knife. "…the future branch head of Vale finds the task too difficult. In which case, perhaps Ms. Belladonna would be up to the challenge?"
The audible grind of Adam's teeth filled the room. The veins on his temple pulsed visibly.
"Speaking of," one Albain said lightly, "you might have approached the afflicted woman with a bit more… gentleness."
"It is that time of year for her," the other mused, smirking. "Her reaction makes perfect sense given your… rough approach."
Both of them chuckled, clearly aware of what had caused the scratch marring Adam's face.
"Perhaps," the first finished, "you should take a few notes from young Gatsby. His methods seem far more… productive."
For a long moment, Adam said nothing. His head dipped forward in a stiff, mechanical bow. "I'll take that into account," he said through clenched teeth, the effort of restraint visible in every muscle.
When he rose, his eyes burned with restrained fury before he turned and stormed out. The doors slammed shut behind him, the echo reverberating like a gunshot.
Silence followed, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire.
"Well," one Albain said mildly. "Now that's been dealt with."
"Where were we?"
Sienna said nothing. She simply reached for her glass, drained it in one long swallow, and muttered—mostly to herself—
"Straight to hell, most likely."
I'm back with the milk…
Regarding the radio silence, I took some time for myself again.
Also, because I wanted to release my 200th message on this site to make it special! Yipee! (I'm totally not making up an excuse that I just spent all that time playing gacha games…)
First off, what does everyone think about switching to the 'Classic Familiars' setting (no more 'named' summons in the gacha)? I'll put up a poll if you guys want it.
Secondly, I'm sorry if the smut has low quality. I'm not sure why but I honestly makes me feel a bit disgusted, burns me out and makes me very tired when I write smut…which doesn't make fucking sense because I've read the most degenerate smut here and there in my down time. Honestly, it'll be a compliment if you think it's just mid.
I still want to keep writing it though to follow tradition as this is an NSFW site and just because I want to.
Also, the next chapter is the arc end. I told you in the last chapter that it was a 'maybe'.
P.S. …I'm still wondering how the fuck did I dupe a little over 5000 people into watching this…thanks a lot.
…
Oh, here's one more for the road!
Meanwhile in the Familiar Inventory…
…
"Alright! Alright! I give up! You win!"
The CEO of Hell sprawled flat on the floor, her once-elegant red-and-black maid uniform reduced to tatters. Her now messy white hair clung to her pale sweat-slicked face, and her breath came in ragged gasps that would have embarrassed any self-respecting demon lord.
On top of her head stood the victor.
"Bok."
A simple cluck, simple yet absolute, echoed through the sterile, endless white of the familiar inventory space.
"I-I won't say that…" Lucifer grumbled into the ground.
"...Bok?"
A talon lifted meaningfully over her face.
"Okay! Okay!" She flailed her hands weakly, eyes squeezed shut in surrender. The talon tapped her head twice and Lucifer groaned. "I can't believe this. I lost Hell to an angel… and now I lost a fight to a chicken."
"Bok!" came the imperious reply.
"I, Lucifer, wi—"
"...Bok!"
"How did you even—?! Ow! OW!" The chicken tugged her hair sharply, making her kick her legs like a tantruming child. "Fine! Fine! I, Lucifer Morningstar, hereby swear to adhere to my master's will to the letter—without complaint or comment!"
"Booook…"
Lucifer's eye twitched. "And… and… I resign from any and all attempts to claim Bok's position as leader of our master's familiars."
Only then did the chicken lower its talon, giving an approving cluck before hopping off her head with a satisfied flutter. Lucifer stayed where she was for a moment, face pressed into the cold floor, questioning every decision she had ever made.
She had truly believed she'd caught a break after escaping that feathered birdbrain and the disaster Hell had become. Finally, no more pretending to be some celestial's glorified maid. Freedom at last…or so she thought.
Then came the flash and then the summoning circle. The rush of foreign energy and knowledge being jammed into her mind. Her new "status," her new "master." It was humiliating.
But then she saw him.
Not some robed lunatic or obese basement warlock. No—her new master was handsome. Disarmingly so as he was dressed in expensive looking silk. Worse, he was capable. Competent. Though he looked like the kind of man who shouldn't have been able to summon her at all. Yet for one delicious moment, she wondered if perhaps this arrangement might not be so bad.
He even knew about her weakness for sweets!
But Lucifer Morningstar was not meant to serve. So she began planning immediately. Bit by bit, she siphoned her master's energy from within this space, probing the edges of her binding spell, plotting to twist it and free herself while offering her own two cents in controlling those black flames of his. It was an easy request that required no effort on her part.
And she would have succeeded—if not for one little clause.
Only the designated leader of the familiars had access to the control she needed.
She'd assumed it was the hulking golem polishing its absurdly luxurious limousine in the corner. It even gave off an aura of quiet authority. But when she asked, the creature simply shook its head and pointed behind her.
That was when she felt it. An overwhelming pressure that chilled her bones. It reminded her, horribly, of her father's presence.
She turned.
And found herself staring at a square-shaped chicken pecking lazily at the ground.
She tittered then—loudly, mockingly even. She almost surely believed this was just some joke. A prank from Heaven.
She was still laughing when she incinerated it in hellfire, leaving nothing but ash.
Then the ash moved.
In the next instant, her vision exploded into white—feathers, claws, beaks, everywhere. Lucifer's shrieks were drowned by furious clucking as the storm of poultry descended upon her. Fire, more fire, all the fire but it didn't matter. The bird was everywhere at once, pecking, scratching, even tugging at her hair and her clothes in ways that would haunt her pride for eternity.
It was like being trapped in a living blizzard of vengeance.
And now here she was. Flattened, defeated, and swearing fealty to a bird.
Lucifer groaned, rolling over and glaring at the chicken perched smugly nearby. "You know," she muttered, "when I seduce our master and I will, I'm going to have him build a whole department dedicated to exterminating chickens."
Bok tilted its head.
"…Starting with you."
"Bok."
The chicken hopped up, its talons clicking softly against the apparently white dirt as it began scratching at the ground with deliberate movements. Lucifer braced herself, wincing as just a minute ago, those claws had gone for her shins without mercy.
But after several seconds of nothing, curiosity got the better of her. She cracked open one eye.
The chicken had scratched a message into the dust in perfectly legible English:
You may try but I highly doubt that would be my end.
But if that is to be my fate then so be it, for our master's word is law.
Best remember it.
Lucifer blinked, then stared at Bok as though seeing it for the first time. "You've got to be kidding me—"
"Ow!" she yelped as Bok's beak darted forward, pecking her sharply on the forehead.
A single white feather then floated down between them, catching the artificial sunlight as it drifted lazily before landing on her brow like a benediction…or a warning.
Lucifer sighed, blowing the feather away. "…Maybe I should've just stayed in Hell."
"Bok?"
She smirked faintly. "Good point,"
"Better the devil I don't know… than the one I'm already sick and tired of."
"Bok."
Edit: Bronz updates the instruction manual that I only check once in a blue moon so yes, I now know familiars are obedient but I wrote this before that sooo…
Yeah… Just take this as a Bok upscale…or something.Last edited: Yesterday at 1:47 PM Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:kffs, Poisinousbow, Scraint and 467 others