Take Up the Cross – Chapter 32: Preparations With Purple ☆

(Was there… always a table here…?)


Joining Cethran behind the pillar, a small table visible from the Spiraling Flesh’s entrance doesn’t seem familiar.

Shaking his head, Adris blinks away the heaviness in his eyes before looking back.




A tall figure in resplendent purple vestments looms before him, far closer than before. An arm covered in black bone seeks to claim him.




Before he can react, her grip on his shoulder is stronger than even Kol’s. A feeling of danger subsides only with her swiftly moving her free hand, making odd gestures by rhythmically folding her fingers.


{Aware are you, of the elaborate net of sorceries placed upon your presence? No, would that not be likely, as you move so incautiously with them left intact?}


(That shouldn’t be possible, right!? Magic upon me has always failed…)


Examining his body for errant details, no hidden object is found. When Cethran grips his hand with one of her patented, dismissive smiles gifted, she then points it towards the wall.

Where his shadow is to be found.


(A shadow isn’t considered a part of you!?)


Withdrawing her hand, she makes more coy gestures.


{This cross you bear, is it not antithetical to magic? If I said that your shadow is a door to deeper places, something that is cast by you but not a part of you, yet is still intrinsically linked, how would you… respond?}




Kneeling down while tensing, he demonstrates for her.


“Oh my, young boy, for what reason do you move your cross in such a manner?” Smiling conspiratorially, red eyes glitter with humor. Her long, braided hair swishes as she turns from him, silently laughing as she departs from his revenge.


(Already shifting all blame to me, are you!?)


With a great windup, he slams his shadow with the cross.


The tool unexpectedly dips into the darkness cast on the floor, the surface of his shadow rippling out like water when struck.

Crashing thunder punctuates him striking something within this darkness. An instant later, his shadow snaps back into a solid, unwavering shape, leaving the cross resting on the stone.




A scream rings out.

“EH!? Still, what’s wrong!? Why are you rolling on the ground!?”

A honeyed voice full of deep concern and fear for her idol coincides with a loud ruckus on the other side of the pillar.


(Fucking Still! Of course she knew as much as she did! She didn’t even have to “interrogate” anyone, she was listening along the whole time!)


Adris’ assumption that magic against him would fail, save for direct damage he misses blocking, was a pathetically misguided one.

Joining Cethran as she pulls out a pestle and mortar from a box, her first words are amused ones reproaching the furious boy.

“Though the majority of these sorceries failed to function completely or properly, isn’t it dangerous that your ever-silvered words should be shared with unintended parties?”


“How can she use magic like that!? Don’t you have to… feel out the other person to use magic on them!?”


(I’ve never seen her do anything, nor have I felt it! I should at least feel it, that pull of fake aura.)




“Why would you have to see someone to target them with sorcery?” Cethran’s question is a confused one, as though she’s unsure if Adris is merely foolish or ignorant.

“… Hoh, could this be a difference in worldviews? Your ‘aura’ as explained, perhaps you require the capacity to perceive your target or the place you intend to call it to?”


“Of course, you…!”


(… have to feel them.)


An assumption that magic was still similar to aura in this respect was reinforced by his ability to sense it when in the presence of it being weaved.


(Absolutely stupid! The pig’s “divination” was already dissimilar enough! Am I not smarter than this? Charms and tools are in my wheelhouse, but “magic” should be thought of as a true monster, not simply compared to aura! I should be expecting anything!)


“Huhuhu, power which grows from the senses? Or does it… flow through them? How fascinating this ‘aura’ is, is it not?” With her mood pushed ever higher, Cethran relishes the prospect of hidden truths revealed.

“While it seemed plausible from your explanations, confirming my conjectures makes me wonder: why did you not mention such details to me?”




There is no answer possible, for Adris simply didn’t trust her enough to do so.




“Well, isn’t that fine?”

Forgiving him in an instant, she motions with her arm to the table’s setup. “All has been prepared, so will you not demonstrate your craft?”


Setting his own pack on the table, the four cups and broken spear head are removed, and set beside her larger cup.

“… The fundamentals aren’t too complex. Merging the invocations into a single litany proved the most complex issue.” With a neutral tone, only the barest details are spared for the purple-loving weirdo.


“It functions as such: create a pathway between the medium, which is me, and the four girls using a Drop of Creation mixed into a brew with the essence of the medium. Then…”


Twitching the covered cross, he smiles evilly.

“The Litany of Despoiling joins with the death of this cross and the speaking of an Oath to create a Modus.”


Eyes briefly wide before narrowing, Cethran repeats a phrase.

“‘Drop of Creation’?”


(Is there no automatic definition provided? How strange.)


The spear head is held up, with the rainbow hue underneath the damage glinting in the light.

“Aura travels through an alloy containing a Drop of Creation, making wielder and weapon the same thing. Thus, medium and recipient will be joined…”

Chuckling, his perfect solution proves to be far more permanent than Zennia’s oaths.

“Stronger than just words if using this, our Oath will be… one that makes us of one body, in many aspects!


(I suppose like how Serras and I were?)




“… Oh, wisdom of the sky,


You which fell from beyond,


Desired by all, yet vanishing in Starry Seas,


Fall again, and let a drop become one with what longs for knowledge.”




With the litany spoken, the spear head held over Cethran’s cup grows white, then becomes a rainbow that absorbs the light around it while leaving only darkness. Cracking open with a great, metallic wrenching, the two sheared halves are expertly angled to control the fluid collecting.

With a bit of the rainbow liquid filling the cup, the spear head that’s deprived of its soul turns black and crumbles to dust as it’s tossed away.


(Goodbye, old girl.)


“Isn’t it fascinating?” Finally speaking, Cethran’s words almost sound like they’re praising him. “And what of the essence you bind it with?”


(Typically, the binding agent for oneself would be blood or flesh, but I don’t know if this world holds similar principles.)


The eternal of Xin is different from here, for Vigor, the only substance he can think of to compare to, is something Adris doesn’t have.


“Cethran, what is held to have power on Zennia? Power of the body and especially the soul?” Forced to beg for help, an act which would normally rankle him if it’s from this woman, his obsession gripping him in earnest breaks down such barriers.


“Oh? Such a thing would only be…?”


Laughing deeply, but calmly, she moves her hands down her vestment-covered torso, an emphasis given to her embroidered hips.


“Isn’t it the sexual vitality of a person? Is not power and… lasting emotion found here, and sought so eagerly by others?”


(What? You’re asking me to…?)


Within this great amphitheater surrounded by innumerable stone statues staring at him, the thought of laying out his white vitality into the cup is absurd.


“You want me to dump my semen into it!?” Hissing at her, she chuckles at the dissatisfaction in his voice.

“And why not? Does this world which holds your interest not seem like it would honor such a dedication?”


(How the fuck am I supposed to do that here? Or anywhere, I only have less than thirty minutes before the Drop dissipates…!)


His obsession with completing the ritual overlooked a major component.




“… Are you not worrying about this too much, Ruinous Star?”




Gripped suddenly from behind, one of Cethran’s arms goes softly against Adris’ chest and pulls him into her body as she leans down. Trying to break free of her, he finds that her grasp on him is very restraining, even though not overly tight.


“Cethran! What are you- EH!?”

Calling out softly, Adris feels a hand go to his crotch, her musically inclined touch testing his bulge.


“… No, you wouldn’t…”


With her breaths deep, the older woman laughs, sending vibrations through her breasts into him.


“Are you so disappointed by the thought? Having tasted so much female flesh of this world, does an older body displease you, even if yours might be attractive to me?

Well, isn’t it fine if it’s purely for assistance and not for affection’s sake?”

Pushing aside her own joke, her hand deftly uncinches his pants before pulling them down. Unable to resist, save by trying to hit her with the cross, he briefly considers it before…




“We have no time for stalling, do we, lamb?” In the woman’s voice lingers no friendliness, a clinical tone to it sapping him.


(Was that right? We don’t really have time…)




With these words, all thoughts of rebellion mysteriously drop from him.


“Rather than engrossing yourself with me, why not simply think of what truly excites you?” Cethran’s voice is full of disdain for the boy, even as she removes her glove to gently stroke his member. “When we first met, you seemed so distant and haunted, yes? Bereft of all you desired, how does it feel to have hope within reach?”


Hardening in her grip as she toys with him, the tentative and speculative measurement of his length seems to agree with the dark woman as she makes a pleased “Hmm?” sound. Locking her fingers as she strokes, the blood filling his cock marks his surrender.


“With girls full of such promise, you seemed disappointed at first? Now, you appear quite close?”


(No, not close… just, bound…?)


“Why? Cethran…?” Forcing him to continue, she moves his hand, the tension rising as he’s forced to masturbate for a woman’s amusement.


“Why, indeed? Are you not missing something with your ritual?” Her voice tickling his ear, the warmth from her body fights against the cold on his legs. “For you to rile up such desperation in all four of them… why, then, do I not feel that same emotional turmoil from you? Where is your overwhelming fascination for the toys you’ve gathered?”

Rubbing his full length, Cethran surprises him by adding her hand to the mix. The curvaceous woman strokes the head gently as he is left to focus on his shaft.


“Do you not… find them spectacular? If you can’t voice what about them motivates you to pursue a plot as volatile as this one, then what concealed, unexplored thoughts justify it to you?”

A breathless voice demands secrets as she halts her motions, tormenting him by denying him growing pleasure.




“… Your life on Xin, was it so regimented by choice that you never once considered abandoning everything for a new obsession? Not even the briefest of temptations could threaten to turn aside your calculated pursuits?”


(… What!?)


Pulling him tightly to her soft breasts, the woman’s voice grows deeper and more demanding.

“… Oh, is that the case? Have you never fed sudden impulses? … Have you never done something wrong simply because you were led astray or could no longer resist? Is there always ‘principle’?”

Squirming at the accusation, Adris’ spirit revives slightly.

“… I’ve… done plenty of things because I… felt like it…!”








Pulling his hand off, the mirthful woman replaces it with hers as she begins to pump smoothly.

A warm, wet touch is given to his defenseless neck when she stops laughing, his skin tingling with the loveless tongue which runs along it.


“Kha!? Ceth-ran!?”


“… Huhuhu, for a boy such as you to dance around people’s desires so readily, isn’t it quite amusing that you can’t vocalize your own? With a voice as cloying as yours tickling people’s ears, you assault their hearts but leave yours closed off? Harming others for amusement only if it first conforms to your sense of personal justice, is it?”

A pre-cum slicked hand isn’t as dexterous as Still’s, but the woman is perfunctory in the pleasure she gives.

“Do you truly believe that you can create a mysterious incident while denying the essential parts? To not realize that this plot is far different from your normal ones…?” Leaving him hunched over and struggling against her bosom, she continues to pester him.


(… I can… rise to any challenge, you old bitch…!)


“Then… perhaps wisdom is necessary to be arrived at sooner, rather than later, if we are to salvage this?”




Whipping him around to face her, the taller woman’s hand moves down to cup his exposed balls, his twitching cock against her wrist as she juggles them. Staring up into her face now without a choice, Adris grimaces to see her expression is pitiless yet also amused.




“To seek all four out and devote your greatest charade to them, do you not long to have them as more than just puppets?”

“… Not as puppets? You mean as… women?”

The priestess’ voice is frying his brain, as her words tread on a place he hasn’t walked before.


“‘As women’, would this still not be side-stepping the real question?” Lifting his chin, the homely woman stoops her body to bring her face closer to his.


(Fuck… no!)


Avoiding it, she instead kisses his cheek, before rising back with a condescending smile.


Even if he rejects her lips, he finds his right hand grasping her full breasts, squeezing into one as she resumes her pleasuring of his cock. Though too thick of clothing to bully her nipples, he cruelly crushes her flesh to his own satisfaction.

The woman releases a sigh with a slight grin at his efforts.


(… Why…?)


As his fingers wrap around her melon and she glides along his pole, something breaks down inside of him when she reacts positively to a sexual touch born of dislike for her.


“Oh, is it that… one’s loves and lusts are not so easily separated…? How dangerous Zennia is, for a boy who longs for meaningful flirtations, but goes thirsty instead?”

Her voice takes on an affectionate tone.

“Perhaps that’s why you’re so bound by the specter of one woman? Why you so boldly ignore the available flesh you travel with, despite the nature of this world?”


(Stop… looking down on me!)


Taking his hand off her breasts, he instead reaches down to grab her ass and starts thrusting into her hand.


“Hm? Yes, that’s more like it, isn’t it? Do you begin to see the distinction? Why should sex and love be the same thing?”

Letting him manhandle her thick flesh, she rewards him with faster strokes. The amusing, awkward standing position of the two perverted owners of this small table is forgiven by the sudden attention they give to each other.


(Cethran… of all the people of this new world, it’s you I don’t…!)




Ruffling his hair with a rough hand, the smiling woman preempts his thoughts.

“Why must I have meaning to you for you to seek pleasure? Can you not just use me?”


(Fuck you! I don’t… know!?)


Putting his cross arm around her to keep her there, his anger drives him to do anything to humiliate the woman. Reaching down to her legs, he finds that the vestment’ front can be pulled aside.


(… I’m not going to be the only one!)


Reaching in…


“… Oh?”

A pleased, husky voice comes from receiving the hand that feels at her inner thigh. Wearing no hosiery of any kind, the woman’s soft skin is hot to the touch.

Sliding up her thigh as she bullies his glans in response, his palm hits against fabric that exudes a distinct humidity.

“Old woman, you sure are feeling it for someone pretending to be in control!”




With her hand lightly grabbing onto the side of his face, they make eye contact as she sneers at him.


“Lamb, when have I ever pretended with you? Are you not the one ever flailing about, hiding behind easily dismissed pretenses?”


(Fuck you! How about this, then!?)


Ripping aside her underwear, he begins rubbing along her cleft, feeling hair and lips with his finger. As it grows wetter…


(You’re the one that’s… ah… losing yourself in this! … Huh?)


Yet her only response to this touch is to shift her hips, standing wider so that he has better access.


“… Cethran…?”

“As it is, you cannot begin to grasp the fundamental nature of desire, lamb. Fortunately for you, is a woman not here to assist you?”

With her free hand, she grabs onto his right one and forces him to roll it over, his fingers moving against her slit as she encourages him.


“… Huuuh, the touch of a child such as you, one in both body and sometimes in spirit, is quite invigorating, isn’t it?”

“I am not a child! Woman, I’ve lived almost as long as… MMMPH!”


Pulled into her juicy breasts, his cry dies as his fingers are forced up into her slick passage.


(… I need to regain control.)


With both of them breathing quicker now, his dick tingles as he begins to buck his hips. His fingers quickly push up into her as she grinds against his palm, her growing heat and slickness strange to Adris, for he never expected a woman like her to allow such actions.


“… This just won’t do, yes? Even if the technique is there, where is your passion?”


(I don’t feel anything for an old lady like you… even if it feels good!)


“Isn’t imagination the most essential part?” Putting her hand to her own pussy, she teases her clit and joins his at her blossomed lips, leaving her obviously experienced body showing that he can’t beat her with only bravado.

Bringing her hand up, she puts it to his mouth as he tries to turn away, dipping the wet fingers inside.


“Can you not… put to words the taste, then?”


The taste of the woman is lighter than Lycia’s, a hint of soap giving a mildly acidic, cloying flavor and smell that mixes with an aroused woman’s invisible, mind-bending odor.


(It’s not horrible, but… I don’t want it if it’s-)


“… If it’s not the taste you desire, then you can’t feel joy? Is this the truth of your nature?”

Choking him with her fingers plunging deep to rake over his tongue, her hard eyes appear to lose patience, even as they never stop tending each other.


“I see, you are unable to feel attraction without connection? Perhaps that is not bad…? Then…


What does your unspoken attraction to these girls you show favor to, the depths of your hopeful longings that you lock away, compel you to pursue from them in your most depraved fantasies?”




(… I…)


“… Which… one…?” So quiet that he almost can’t hear himself, the question comes out for his confessor to consider.


Bringing her fingers up briefly to lick them, the squelching sounds of their lower bodies are a bizarre accompaniment to their discussion.

Smiling, she accepts the responsibility.


“Very well… why not the… snake?”


With the question…




… Adris feels a dam buckling.


“Ave…? She is… delightfully naive? A perfect mix of innocence and beauty. Her audacious clothing makes you want to slowly pull it off as she watches with terrified eyes…”

Unbottled thoughts start to flow out from the ever-lying boy, full of desires which sound like they belong to him.


“I want to feel and see her body, removing that… arrogant bodysuit that thinks it can defend her from me…!?”

With his voice rising, he begins massaging Cethran’s clit between his fingers as she lightly cradles his hand. As the woman begins to redden with his words and lewd touch, her response drives on his aggressive tale of how he wants to claim “his” elf.


“Beautiful eyes and a cute mouth, every time she says my name… I want to steal her tongue and make it mine. But, I also want her to tear up a bit, because every time she cries, it’s like watching something fragile nearly break.

I don’t want to totally ruin her, but I do want to watch her squirm as she starts to service me. With that shy, delectable tongue willingly slathering all over my dick, I’ll get to watch her fail at pleasuring me… She’ll struggle to succeed, all that desperation rising…!”


(… Is this what I want?)


The rational part of his mind is falling away, thoughts never admitted to himself coming out now.


“Oh, have you tasted her tongue yet, lamb? Do you speak from experience?” Her voice ceases to be as clinical, inviting him to continue as her timbre rises. Both hands are on his dick and balls, his full length being steadily massaged as she softly cups him.


“… Yes, it was wonderful. She wants me more than anything else in the world! Even if she’s part snake… is the fold beneath human?”


(More than you, I want to taste her!)


With fingers arching against her inner wall, the boy scrapes along while trying to find Cethran’s g-spot. Hissing at the new sensation, the brown-haired demoness grins in appreciation.

“Is this not better? Will you… force yourself on her, if given the chance?”

Visions of other creatures trying to do that end up with him replacing them with himself. The dark feelings that come with this cause him to resist her embrace.

“Oh, kind are you? At least to her? Then… I suppose you will make her beg for you? Promise she’ll love only you, before you plunge into her?” Immediately switching ideas, Cethran’s words attack Adris’ true inclinations.


(… That sounds good.)


“She should… have all her clothes on, except for the bodysuit. She can pull the clothes to the side, showing me everything. Then I’ll have her use her fingers to spread it wide… She… has to be a virgin, right… Cethran?”


“Are you blind to the looks she gives, those lustful yet stupid glances of a maiden? For the girl’s innocence to be real, she must be truly blessed and dispossessed of average needs, yes?” Increasing the speed of her tugs, Adris’ guts feel turned up by the pleasure, his whole body alive with her ministrations.

“For being such a rare treasure, don’t you long to be her first?”


(I do.)


“I do!” Adris hisses out, his thoughts and words finally the same thing for once in a long time.


“Tearing through her as she begs for you to do it, claiming her dearest treasure, making it yours forever, then hearing her begging you to deposit your own precious gift into her…? How wonderful would it be?” The priestess speaks decidedly impious words, her voice full of the longing he feels now.


“But what of the others? Surely you want them, too? How could you not? You are, after all, so greedy, right?”


(I’m not greedy!)


“What of the prim girl? What of the cloaked one? Though the one in armor seems quite masculine, you’ve caught her scent, too, have you not?”


(… They are all… fairly beautiful, right? Especially…!)


Chuckling, Cethran grips onto Adris’ ass as she hugs him. It becomes difficult to move his arm, his hand forced out of her hot pussy as she crushes his dick to her body.


“That ladylike presence which contrasts with her unladylike dress? Imagine how small and easy to grasp she is? Picking her up, she could be a tool for only you, yes…?” Offered his next target, Adris begins sharing of his own volition.


“… Could I even fit inside of her? I could part the front to check that… If she’s as perfect everywhere else, it must be beautiful beyond words, waiting for me to taste it. Ah!” Shamefully moaning as she rubs hard against his dick, she finally releases him.

“Having her lift the dress so I can pull down her underwear… Watching me disapprovingly the whole time with her mysterious eyes, you can almost fall into the color of them!”


(Am I dreaming about even Neesiette?)


“I want her to cling to me as I lift and push in, totally in control of her! That smug girl, quiet until the pressure on her womb forces her to call out… I want her screaming my name in pleasure by the time I release inside of her!”

Seeing in his mind Neesiette’s beautiful but unchanging face suddenly becoming a woman’s sloppy one, he longs to leave his seed overflowing from her glove-like, tight interior. Only spilling loose when he frees himself, she would be too hollowed out to savor it.


(… This is… dangerous…!)


Forcing his hand back to her cunt, she flits it across her lips until he exuberantly lunges back inside to start tending her again. Her head is next to his as she searches out more repressed thoughts.


“And what of the warrior and the thief?”


Something truly deranged flows from Adris’ mind.


“Still? She’s even better for that! I’ve already tasted her once! As short as it was, that canny girl’s hunger is as bad as mine is! She shook from the taste of my semen alone… Then tried so desperately to hide it! A girl like that could… ruin me.”


“Oh, do you even lust for women with strong wills, too?”


“That’s just it, Cethran…!” Pressing his face against her breasts, he longs to feel Still’s own freed for him to taste.

“I want to bite onto her big breasts, feeling the texture of her nipples with my teeth and tongue! With as many men as she’s no doubt ruined with that dexterous pussy, I want to claim a girl like that for me alone!”


Fighting with the dominant Still, Adris wants to feel her ride on him again. As she demands his submission like before, he’ll roll her over without permission, slamming into her tight, wet pussy as she resists. Trained muscles will drive him to release just like before, a woman’s lithe and nimble body still unable to push off the boy as strong as she is.

When he releases inside her without consent, she’ll punish him by getting back on top and abusing him again to reassert authority.


“She’s purely sensual! Nothing about her is innocent! No… there’s innocence sometimes, dissatisfaction when she thinks things aren’t going her way! Hidden doubts creep up when she feels like she’s losing… and I want her to lose!”


Slamming his fingers into the lying cleric, she lightly calls out in pleasure along with him. He can already feel his orgasm about to come, for while she isn’t particularly good at a handjob, the dedication she provides more than makes up for it.

With his mind melting at the imaginary scene of breeding Still after tearing her clothes off, Cethran’s stroking hand is replaced by the memory of Still’s pussy.


“Just like Serras… I want… for her to see only me and nothing more! She’ll be totally mine! No matter how she skulks around, she’ll come back to me, because she knows there’s nothing better than me out there!”


“Oh? Like Serras? In her… I don’t see the similarity, though… Isn’t that armored girl more your style for aggression and purity of purpose?”


“Ah… Kol? There’s something deep about her. Simple, but still complicated. I can’t… I can’t really beat it, except by fooling it. I want her to…”


For a girl whose face he’s never seen, who has claws and white fur in places, he feels a lascivious hunger. A long, silver tail is quite inhuman, but appealing to a boy that considers her as a potential mate.


“Still said I should bend her over in the halls… so why not!? With a voice that womanly, she can beat even Neesiette or Ave’s once I unmask her! She said she’d surrender herself to me if I beat her… but does she really know what a man can do to a woman that says that!? Instead of beating her with my tongue, I’ll let my dick speak for me! Stripping off her armor, I’ll get to see her beautiful face as I ‘give her a pup’ just like Still said to!”


(… they will… all be mine…)


“The way she looks at me… with reverence and respect, but also opposition and impatience! I want to shock her by kissing her, just before I paint her white inside! She’ll learn what true strength is when she feels that heat and goes wild with satisfaction! I’ve never… missed an opportunity to prove I can pleasure someone!”


As if to prove his point, Adris continues to bully Cethran’s wet clit, even as it becomes hard for him to stand with the weakness of giving in to her.


(… I want to… show you how wide I can make you inside, old woman…! No! That’s giving in too much!)


Delusions break his mind, a desire to fill this woman warring with his revulsion for her. As she buries him in her breasts again while they both shake, a flat voice denies the idea of her ever succumbing to him.


“Finally touching what you’ve denied yourself this whole time, do you now understand what Zennia requires? Though you might sway their hearts through words and posturing, without tapping into your deepest thoughts you cannot truly ensnare them to you, understand?”

The older woman who often seems terribly apart from the world offers him advice that finally makes sense to him.


“… Even if I… want all of that… how could I possibly let myself be revealed so nakedly by lust!?” Choosing this moment to refuse her, the dangerous motivations towards these girls stand ready to throw off his plans.

“How can a ‘godlike being’ so easily fall into depravity!? They’ll know I’m a fake!”


Locking eyes with the temptress again, both of their faces red, he laments how absurd this whole scene is.


“I can’t… just tell them something like this!”


Laughing apologetically, the woman rubs his head.

“Are you so certain? If your desires encompass such things, then why not seek to answer them in your own way and time, and just disregard a fixed plot? You may find yourself surprised by the result of unleashing your desires on them, perhaps discovering that they respond in kind almost exuberantly?”


(As if I could do-)


“After all… if you wanted to see her face…?”


Whispering into his ear…


“Then why not simply ask her, as she’s already seen yours from over there? Watching your tongue slink out desperately as you speak of forcefully ravishing her, yes?”


With his blood freezing, he whips his head to look at where the pillar curves, his eyes wide open with fear. The knowledge that he’s been discovered by Kol destroys his thoughts, assaults his very soul.




But, there’s nobody there: only statues, darkness, and whispers.




“My mistake, isn’t it?”

Cethran speaks, right before her hand pokes a finger into Adris’ butt, the finger slick with her own juices as it pushes deeper without resistance. As it enters and pokes at the worst, but best, spot, Adris yells out in surprise, indignity, pain, and pleasure.




(C-Cethran, you bi-!)


He moans without reservation, his dick shooting a rope of semen into Cethran’s waiting, cupped hand. His own fingers shake inside of her pussy, furiously scraping against her as she twitches. While her soiled hand keeps milking him directly onto her skin, he holds her tightly as she sighs, too.

When Adris begins to lose strength, her finger withdraws so that her arm can support him with an unusual strength.


The boy almost passes out from his pleasure, the release made impossibly strong by the delusions he was wrapped up in. Almost as if he has unloaded inside of Ave, Still, Kol, and Neesiette all at once, his thoughts boil from the feeling of accomplishment and a hunger being sated.




The hunger, however, is as yet unvanquished, and he feels that it can never again be buried.




“Don’t you long to complete this little date with the future, so that you can finally taste your prizes in earnest?”


Though forced into it unwillingly, this tryst with Cethran leaves him feeling fundamentally altered. The unfriendly woman’s voice has returned to normal, but she still smiles in that unnerving manner as if she’s gloating.

With Adris left wondering if the woman found satisfaction in their embrace, he’s pulled away from her and forced to stop fondling her warm hole. He is concerned upon finding that he both longs to continue and feels greatly relieved to be freed.




(… Do I feel this way about them all? I’m supposed to be… more focused than this…?)


With that longing for focus, Adris is revisited by the notion that what he’s about to do might be dangerous.

“What if something is wrong with trying to do all of this at once… what if…?”




Picked up again into a tighter embrace, her malevolent voice flays his heart as she holds him like a favored pet.


“… Do you really believe that after all of this you will be permitted to back out, Adris? As I am bound to explain things to you: the thing you seek, you must find, or else can you be said to have understood my wisdom? This desire you have discovered which was secretly consuming you must be answered, unless you wish to be destroyed by it, yes?”

Cethran’s unfeeling words deny him any escape.




“‘Who you are’ will be answered by this investiture.”

This point alone is an absolute truth, spoken by a woman who represents honest deceit.




“Unless the totality of you is presented… is ‘who’ truly explained? How can I be freed of this oath, without ensuring you are fulfilled by your… experiment?”

Polite, but final, her words alert him to his unchangeable future.


After letting him go, Cethran lets white globs slide from her pale hand into the cup, a strange lesson conveyed as she gives him a side-glare.




“If our most furtive and longed-for ambitions are considered essential to our existences, then will not what you seek to cause… have desire as the key to your request?”


Adris recovers himself while dwelling on that question.


(… Right, it doesn’t matter what Cethran wants. I started this for myself! If this is who I am, then I will not run from it!)


The obsession from before consumes what’s left of his rationality. Beginning with a need in his youth to avenge himself upon the world, he now tastes the chance to, in some way, conquer this Zennia that has tormented him since his rebirth.


Smiling kindly, Cethran invites him to join her with a waving hand.

“With Zennia rewarding what is sought in earnest, then isn’t it essential that you search yourself in order to discover the ever concealed truths?”


(I need truth? Fine, then. If this darkness can give me power… then let’s force the issue, even if it requires a bit of honesty! A Modus that makes it impossible for them to escape from me could also bring me closer to them, letting me have all of them!? How perfect!)


The sweet smell of the mansion’s air is no longer a foreign presence. Returning to Cethran’s side to begin mixing, his wicked smile is every bit the match of hers.






Name: Adris fehl Dain; “Mister Meat”
Titles: Scholar Bound in Madness, Greedy Informant, Lycia’s Little Brother, True False God
Race: Xin’El, Emperor’s Child (Human)
Sex: Male
Age: ?? – Young


Occupation: Crossbearer; Charlatan/Swindler; Xin’Reh (former); Soldier of Fortune (former); Bounty Hunter (former)
Discipline: Crossbearer – Cursed Aura User; Spear Veteran (former); Aura Warrior, School/Specialization: Self-Taught (former)



[Tool Savant] – “Adris is a tool-collecting-and-utilizing fanatic. Most men would consider him disgusting for loving tools more than his own partner. Has so many tools that it can be said to be his true power. What does he do when he has no tools left? He seeks to acquire more, obviously!”




[Unknown Protection from Poisons/Compelling] – {A MAN WALKS, HIS STEPS UNWEARIED AND RESOLUTE. NONE CAN STOP HIM.}




[Unknown Mental Domination] – {A MAN DEMANDS. THOSE WHO HE DEMANDS OF, OBEY.}


[Familiar] – “Through means unknown, a familiar has been acquired. Aren’t familiars a kind of tool? Isn’t this sort of strange to consider a ‘power’?”


[Obscuring Sonjil] – “Man, this thing has gotten pretty strong on Zennia. At first only creating an area of fog, it can now cover a direction? Is something wrong…?”



Disposition: Resilient / Adaptable / Sinner
Alignment: Chaotic

Eyes: Black
Hair: Black, with strands of White
Skin: Tanned



Rantil Value – “Idiot master receives idiot information~”


Attributes by Grade:

Strength – E

Vitality – E

Dexterity – D

Agility – C

Intelligence – D

Mentality – C

Luck – F

Charisma – D


“If you want more, stop being mean to Rantil!”



Cethran Value – “If all men looked like him, it might not be odd for women to think that the gods had painted the world in only the drab color brown? While not ugly, would he not exemplify the idea that ‘normal’ is perhaps indistinguishable from ‘undesirable’?”

“There’s little to say, isn’t there? Aren’t you truly beautiful when you’re honest?”

“Playing up the mystery too much might prove troublesome? A man of only mystery can be angel or devil, yes?”

“Success breeds confidence, but is confidence always handsome? It might depend on how you assert it, a lesson you might be lacking expertise in?”

“Even if they don’t find you handsome, isn’t there something still dashing about you…?”


“Being used by older women seems to be your fate, isn’t it?”



“A rather plain-looking man wearing traveling robes, what he carries hidden is far more dangerous than his appearance lets on. A disarming smile, leads to you being suckered. A clever tongue, leads to your sorrow. Possessing quick wit and intellect, hubris and arrogance are certain to follow. Well known across the floating islands of Xin, but not by name, only by reputation. Owed many favors, but not with great joy, and certainly not love. The only person he seems to care about other than himself is his lifelong partner.”

“Losing everything is often an impetus to descend deeper into bad things. In Adris’ case, it certainly amped up his energy for harming others.”

“Nothing is off the table for a man with nothing to lose.”

“Winning finally, Adris feels like he should be king of the world, but his tower is crumbling already as four girls keep destroying its foundation.”

“No longer the king, perhaps your true nature is the whipping boy, Adris?”


“The more you try to gain, the less you’re able to hold on to. At least in Adris’ case, he seems to be trying to hold onto the things he might care about?”



“Red flags! Crimson!”



Name: Cethran
Titles: ???
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Age: 40s

Occupation: Priestess
Discipline: ???




Disposition: Inquisitive / Condescending / Self-Reliant
Alignment: Chaotic

Eyes: Red
Hair: Brown
Skin: White



Cethran Value – “Do you not feel that you can just ask?”



Cethran Value – “Isn’t it a strange thing to ask a woman what she thinks of her own appearance? If you were to ask a woman what she thinks of herself, of the beauty of her form, then isn’t the answer simple: ‘am I not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met, and shouldn’t you remind me of that so I believe it, too?’ Rather than asking a boorish question, why don’t you compliment me, Adris?”

“Perhaps if I am more beautiful now with a fuller smile, it’s because you’ve brought me out of my languishment?”

“Having seen the beauty that the Castillo and the outside has to offer in more detail, do you find me too mundane, now? Isn’t that quite tragic for me?”


“Despite not desiring me, you certainly seemed content enough to fake it, didn’t you?”



“What is the nature of a person? If we all search for meaning in our lives, do we ever find it without first understanding who we are, first? Then, if you must ask what the nature of another is, perhaps you should do so only after understanding yourself? At the very least, being at ease within the chapel indicates it possesses no danger, right?”

“To search for answers is a noble goal? Then what goal is more noble than searching for the one answer behind everything…?”

“Though our goals are often not noble, perhaps somewhere deep down, our hearts are? Can we discover that together?”


“Isn’t it nice that we can work together?”



“I think everyone has a general idea of what’s going on, right now. Never trust anyone that appears to be a religious authority!”







Chapter 31         Table of Contents          Chapter 33