“Nay, as ye can clearly see, I’m not laughing at ye, not at all. Never would I do such a thing, I am only a humble titan, one who stands in endless awe of the goddess that has descended to the lands of Hel before me. Oh, praise be to our goddess, her tits great and glorious, radiant with magnificence like the rising sun. Praise her ass of enormous splendor, that which eclipses the stars with her majesty. Let all the world bear witness to the presence of the goddess of legend and fall to their knees in unceasing admiration!”

After dealing series of a half hearted retaliatory punches with no real strength to the laughing titan’s side, I let my tails freely droop with the final defeat of my delusions of dignity, flattened my ears back, buried my face into my hands in a vain attempt to hide my embarrassment, and gave a long sigh of resignation at the knowledge that my social life was now more dead than the memes from my childhood.

“Let a titan laugh, Arata, it won’t hurt ye any.. I mean no offense to ye, but, it’s not every day that ye find out that a lass ye’re getting to know is a lady of the Vanir, recognized by the Great Cock himself. Besides, She Of The Divine Derriere is a respectable title, even Tits For Brains isn’t that bad. And before ye start rolling yer eyes at me in disbelief, let me tell ye, a bad title is like Lady Shitfaced The Flatulent. Orc or not, the poor lass didn’t deserve getting laughed out of London like that.”

“..Seriously?”

Raising my face out of my hands, I glanced at Erin’s in a search for any kind of indication that he was making some kind of lousy joke. The next moment, I felt the titan pull me backwards with a tug, supporting my weight with his hand, holding me upright as I nearly fell on my ass.

“Careful lass, keep yer eyes ahead of yerself, ye were about to walk headfirst into a tree. And aye, lass, don’t think I’m jesting with ye. Anyone that expects to receive a title that’s nice from the Great Cock is a lunatic, and should be immediately sent off to join the nearest Adventurer’s Guild. Nameless he may be, but kind he is not. There’s a reason the Great Cock is known as the Great Cock, and not as the Nameless Cock.. Ah, here seems good. Give me one second before anything else, lass, need to alert the watch.”

Watching as the titan opened one of the pouches hanging from his belt and drew out a small, in proportion to the titan, object that looked somewhat like a flute. With a deep, rumbling breath, the titan lifted it to his lips, and blew. Flicking my ears back with a wince as a long, sharp, and almost painfully loud note blasted out from the instrument, which was quickly followed by a rapid staccato of notes with varying lengths.

A moment later, Erin lowered the offending instrument. From the distance, I heard a similar noise come in reply, three long, echoing notes, which seemingly prompted the titan to store it back into his belt pouch.

“There we go, lass. Sorry to do that to ye, I know yer ears are more sensitive than ours, but the elves know the orcs are coming now. Downside to that being that the orcs might know that we know, but as everyone knows, ye can’t have the cake and eat it too. On the bright side to that, lass, if they know we know, ye’re less likely to get attacked for being dressed like that if they know that we know they’re here.

Speaking of which, ye should really emboss one of yer titles before ye get something worse. She Of The Divine Derriere is a pretty good one, aye. Not as a joke, but because ye probably won’t be given any titles better than that, and it’ll keep nagging ye about them until ye do. Anyway, as I was saying earlier, lass, about the Pact of the Thrice Trolled Bridge.. When Ironballs succeeded in fucking Sala, yer Saemd kin, into submission, he carried her out into public, completely ignoring the fact that they were still fucking, and had her announce her consent to allow him to arbitrate in the matter.

Then, with the public as witness that her consent hadn’t been forced, Ironballs then established the Pact of the Thrice Trolled Bridge with the decree that the three parties would equally split the land. That no nation, town, city, or village’s laws could be enforced within disputed territory, and that all parties that can legally dispute the ownership of the land have equal rights to the land until the dispute is concluded by consent of all the parties with valid legal claim in the presence of both an Arbiter and Notary from the Council of Gestalt.. And yes, he was still fucking her when the pact was concluded. So, any questions about ye’d like to ask while we walk, lass?”

Feeling a moment of envy towards the girl I had never met as my mind briefly wandered, I shoved aside the wayward thoughts, ignoring how much I found myself loving the idea of her experience, and asked the one important question on my mind.

“Yeah.. Erin, one question. Why the hell did anyone think that was a good idea? There’s so many loopholes to allow that to be abused. Hell, why was he even allowed to spontaneously pass what sounds like an international law, while fucking one of the three parties in conflict? I mean, sure, he more than demonstrated his capability as a lover, but being an amazing fuck shouldn’t allow someone to pass whatever laws they want! Shouldn’t there at least be like, a vote or something?”

“Well, lass, there’s not many ways to measure whether or not someone is worthy? And in all fairness, there was a vote a long time ago, which is why Arbiters can make binding decisions without needing to convene the Council over every little thing. And people gave up on limiting what decisions Arbiters are allowed to make after that vote failed about eight times, lass.

The time when Lord Baldr, the great Aesir who founded the Council of Gestalt, gave up on talking sense into the Council and bashed his head against a tree in frustration until it fell over is almost as well known as the fucking of Sala of the Saemd and the Pact of Thrice Trolled Bridge. Which, by the way, is why ye being one of the Vanir isn’t really all that big of a deal.

Counting Aesir and Vanir together, with ye included, there’s at least a hundred. As far as I can remember, lass, there were around twenty or thirty of them that were of mixed descent like ye. Rare, aye, but not unheard of. Not to mention that other than Lord Baldr, who stands out like a house on fire, few, mixed or not, have done anything of note.

But lass, there is one thing that makes ye different from all the others. Ye need not do anything to be worthy of great adoration and veneration, for your worthiness cannot be doubted by any.. As a male, it is only right for me to pay homage to the great Ass Goddess.”

As the titan began laughing again, I groaned, and halfheartedly punched the titan’s thigh in a fruitless retaliation. Taking a deep breath, I sighed, and decided on a normally unthinkable course of action, with the hope that I wouldn’t regret it.

“Erin, you said that it’ll keep nagging me about the titles unless I emboss one, right? Which means that the damn thing will keep popping up out of nowhere, and start narrating shit for everyone nearby to hear, right? So, what does the whole damn embossing thing actually do?”

“Aye, lass, it’ll keep doing that. As for what it does, well, nothing much really happens. Mostly just inscribes it on yer Arcana, which usually functions as a way to identify people because nobody can fake it. The only times it manifests are when ye accomplish a great feat, when ye emboss a title, when you need to manifest a new body, or when someone uses magic to verify yer identity. So ye don’t need to worry, it won’t be hanging a sign over yer head to show everyone that ye’re the Ass Goddess.”

Prompted by my question, the familiar panel popped up in front of me again, this time, displaying a simple question with only two options, without narration this time. Staring at it as I slowly tapped my foot against the soft forest floor, I folded my arms over my breasts as I seriously considered it.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Do I want to emboss a title, huh.. Not really, but, if it’ll stop popping out of nowhere to yell embarrassing things for everyone to hear, that’ll be fine. This feels like one of the most game like things I’ve encountered since the whole character creation thing. But regardless of that, earlier, it asked if I want to switch out my original title for a new one, which means that I can just switch it and then switch it back to get it to shut up.’

With the decision made, I pressed the confirmation button, which, to my annoyance, caused the familiar irritating cheery voice to speak up with an enthusiasm that just made listening to it somehow more annoying.

“Select the title you would like to emboss! Your currently embossed title is Fox of Fertility, and you currently have two titles that can be embossed for your viewing pleasure! The first title, Tits For Brains, was earned by impressing the Great Cock of legend with your body and disappointing him with your intelligence. Your second title, She Of The Divine Derriere, is a recognition of your inborn divinity. For you, who’s greatest contribution to the world is her derriere, are not only born a lady of the beautiful Nadhir, but also as a lady of the divine Vanir.”

Cringing as I selected the title, I hesitated for a long moment as I stared at the confirmation button, taking a deep breath as I gathered my resolve.

‘Here goes nothing.. Remember, Arata, despite the fact you’ve been genemodded into turning into your avatar, regardless of what happens, you can just leave and not come back if you want. You’re not bound to this place, and you’re not living in one of those shitty trapped in virtual reality with no way out stories from the first quarter of the century. And honestly, being known as the Ass Goddess isn’t the worst thing that could happen.

And it’s not like you’re going to be spending your life wagging your divine ass for corporate overlords to do with as they please while you lick their boots clean.. Not like there’s been anybody that’s been unwillingly doing that since basic income and welfare was implemented after the Crystal Plague, anyway.’

Licking my lips, I reached out and pressed the button to confirm my selection, hoping that I wouldn’t regret my rather questionable decision. With a ding, the panel rippled, the text began changing, and I felt the muscles in my ears and tails tense as the narration began.

“Congratulations, Arata, Beloved Goddess of the Derriere! You have forever embossed your Arcana with your divinity. The title, She Of The Divine Derriere, is unable to be removed. Due to your new title, She Of The Divine Derriere, being a symbol of your divinity rather than an achievement, it has not replaced your original title, Fox of Fertility, and has instead been added as a second title emblazoned on your Arcana.”

Staring as I waited for the inevitable plot twist, my muscles tense, my ears turning back and forth as I prepared myself for whatever was to come next. At the end of what felt like hours, I blinked, reached out, and tapped the little button on the panel, only for it to disappear without ceremony, sound, or a rude comment. Blinking again, I looked around in confusion before looking up at the titan.

“..Erin? Why isn’t anything happening? Why’s this so anticlimactic? It’s just.. Done? I mean, sure, I didn’t expect it to be an irremovable title, but is that it? Nothing else? No terrifying monsters appearing out of nowhere, no lusty half woman half nightmare spider-things tearing out of the ground intent on murdering me, no terrible prophecy about a threat to the world that I’ll have to face, no rude comments, and I’m not even getting sexually harassed? Just a hey, congrats to you, Arata, you’re the one true ass goddess, now have a nice day?”

Raising an eyebrow really high as he looked down at me over his shoulder, the titan paused mid step, setting his foot down as he turned around to really look at me, crouching down in front of me as he met my gaze, looking directly into my eyes as I suddenly began wondering if I said some kind of faux pas.

“Arata, lass.. I have to ask ye, which part is it that’s making ye sound so disappointed? No monsters? A lack of a prophecy about ye? And what all did ye mean when ye said sexual harassment? Ye talking about the great cock being the great cock, or is it that traditional elven hospitality ain’t quite suited to yer preferences?”

“Uhm, no, I mean, like, how do I say this, not exactly sure by what you meant when you said traditional elven hospitality, but, no, the elves have been pretty good to me. So have you and Erik. But just, like, after having one weird thing after another happen, getting insulted and sexually harassed by a chicken and a weird floaty panel thing, having random narration that feels like it’s out to embarrass me.. It just feels weirdly anticlimactic to just get congratulated as the ass goddess without anything else happening.”

Erin chuckled, low and rumbling, as he then reached out and began stroking my head. Pressing my head up against his hand, I let the impulse to start wagging my tails take over, and savored the sweet moment.

“I can tell ye, lass, but it’s weird. According to elven tradition, it is considered quite impolite for an elf to welcome a unmarried guest of the opposite sex into their house without bedding them. Unless the guest declines getting bedded, anyway. Before ye start giving me weird looks like I’m trying to convince ye to buy a bridge from a troll, nay. It’s not just an excuse for the elf to get laid. By elven tradition, to welcome a guest into their home is to welcome them to at least stay the night in their dwelling, a promise to defend them from any and all who may wish them harm, and an invitation to their bed as well.

Also, among elves, for one of them to give ye a slap on the rear, or just to put a hand on yer breast for a feel, but unless they’re trying to stick something inside of ye without yer consent or do something against yer will, that’s usually just an elf being friendly as is normal among elves. And if ye wanted to, ye’re completely free to do that kind of thing to them too. And, if ye don’t feel like getting that sort of friendliness, just tell them that ye don’t. And if they don’t get the message, feel free to tell them to go take a hike. Or just give them a good whack or two, that’ll get the point across.”

“..Seriously? Erin, seriously? I swear, that sounds like obvious bullshit and I totally believe it. A lot of things make way more sense with that in context.. Now you’ve gotten me curious, are there other similar weird traditions kinda like that among the other races? What’re titan traditions like? I mean, I know you and Erik are smiths, but is that a traditional thing too?”

With the titan giving me a gentle pat on the back as a signal, I began skipping forward for a moment as we resumed walking, before spinning back around to grin up at the titan, my tails wagging as I held up two fingers in the sign for victory, which prompted a chuckle from the titan as he caught up while replying to my question.

“Nay, Arata, smithing isn’t really a titan tradition, though a lot of titans do that sort of work. And well, bedding yer guests because it’s the polite thing to do is unique to elven culture. And while the average werebeast spends more time fucking than the average elf, which is a statement in and of itself, the elves are the only race with a tradition quite like that.

As for traditions among titans, lass, there’s a lot. Music festivals, summer bonfires, winter festivals, harvest festivals, but nothing that quite stands out as much as the elven traditions. Suppose ye could maybe call it a tradition, lass, but as fights between titans involves a lot more weight being thrown around than for most, it’s customary to settle most disputes and arguments with a competition, often posing for convenience.”

Blinking twice as I found myself trying not to giggle at the mental image that came to mind, I raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Erin questioningly, which got a simple shrug from the titan in reply. Licking my lips, I broke out into a grin, and spoke.

“Ay yaih yaih yaihiiiiiee.. By any chance, Erin, while this is definitely a really stupid question to ask, and probably shouldn’t even be considered a question to be answered because of how stupid this is to ask you, but do those posing competitions involve wearing masks carved from stone?”

“Eigh, it’s that question? Seriously, lass, ye outsiders tend to ask titans about that a lot. And yes, they do, sometimes. Not just titans do it though, the stone masks are tradition for plays and such here. But unless ye have a rare precious stone from Aja with ye, lass, they’re just masks. Anyway, lass, if ye’re interested in curios and the like, I can introduce ye to Carmine. She’s an adorable Halven lass, loves to act tough, but her heart is softer than a pillow. Ye won’t find a fairer traveling merchant in the region, or a cuter one.. Just don’t bend over in front of her, ye’ll stop her heart.”

Gently pulling my breasts to the sides for a clearer downward view as I gingerly stepped over a particularly massive gnarly root sticking out of the ground, I let go, and flicked an ear towards the titan in mild confusion.

“Uhm, what? I really don’t get it, Erin. How the hell would my bending over give that Carmine girl a heart attack? Is this something to do with the whole one true ass goddess thing? This is a really awkward question to be asking, but.. Is my ass really that amazing?”

“Aye, Arata, that ass of yers is divine.”

Stopping mid stride, I folded my arms beneath my breasts. Flattening my ears back as I took a deep breath, and with all seriousness, turned my head to give the titan, who was grinning like a goblin that had been caught with both hands stuck in a cookie jar, the look only an unamused foxgirl could give.