Chapter 329 - The Guardian of the Ironclad Abyss VI

Chloe hummed a happy tune as she went about her duties. She personally cleaned each of the queen’s garments, towels, and other miscellaneous belongings in turn, scrubbing each with all the care deserved by a newborn’s bottom. Despite her concerns, she had yet to be penalized, even after three full days back up on the surface. Her silence had inevitably worsened her relationship with the rest of the northern brigade, but lifting a pair of freshly worn panties into the air, and spreading them to best appreciate them beneath the morning sun, she felt like it had been well worth the trouble.

She took a few moments to languish in all of the undergarment’s glory. She admired the beautiful black and purple lace that made up its form, as well as the fancy embroidery that surrounded it, before lightly planting a kiss along the gusset, inhaling its scent, and submerging it in a bucket of warm and soapy water.

Though she certainly spent a few extra seconds admiring each of her mistress’ unmentionables, the maid was not at all inefficient. It was precisely because she appreciated the clothes that she understood how best to wash them. Each article was given only the minimal amount of treatment required to be made pristine. She made sure to avoid overwashing so that they would last for as long as they could. Her careful attention to detail and her flawless technique came together to ensure that the task was wrapped up in record time.

Once all the washing was complete, the maid moved on to drying. Back at the castle, there were artifacts they could use to speed up the process, but out on the beach, hours away from civilization, she had to resort to the old-fashioned approach. She began by placing the towels and outerwear. She hung them from higher lines strung around the perimeter while placing the queen’s undergarments on lower clotheslines that were hidden from view. It was unfortunate; had they been back home, Chloe would have left them out in the open so she could see them from all angles, but she knew better than to allow the perverted masses to gaze upon the queen’s most seductive attire.

With the most pleasant chore of the day, unfortunately, attended to, Chloe moved on to cleaning everyone else's clothes. Their belongings were given much less attention. She threw them in the wash basin, haphazardly swirled them around, and strung them up without any consideration for order or reason. It was not as if there was nothing interesting mixed into the crowd. There were plenty of thongs, garter belts and risqué bras, given that some of the maids were looking for partners, but they failed to garner her interest. Their bodies were too bland. None of them had the beautiful bounce that accompanied her mistress’ chest.

The maid allowed her thoughts to wander as she continued to work, stopping only as she heard a scream from the expedition’s commander.

“Attention! Your attention, please!” The man in question had only just returned from the dungeon earlier that morning. He was still covered in bandages and wounds, but his pride forced him to stiffen his back and straighten his face.

With some more reluctant than others, the soldiers gathered nearby, forming a crowd just outside of the medical bay. Nearly everyone was present; there hadn’t really been much else to do but for the men to sit around the camp and engage in personal training while they awaited the last few groups. And though the commander was far from well-respected, there was more benefit in listening to the announcement than not.

“With the final party’s return, we have now concluded the first of our three preliminary exercises. Some of us have seen more success than others,” he said, as he scanned the crowd. “Some of us may have already found that this was too tough to bear. If that sounds like you, then you should drop out immediately. It only gets tougher from here, but that also means we’ll only be getting stronger faster. We will leave for our next destination in two days' time. If you aren’t present at sunrise, we’ll proceed without you under the assumption that you did not wish to continue.”

Chloe halfheartedly listened to the speech until she felt a tap on the shoulder. When she spun around, she found herself face to face with a beautiful witch adorned with a massive, pointed hat. Like the maid, she was sitting in the sand, albeit far more primly and properly.

“Good morning, Chloe.”

“Ciel!” The maid’s eyes lit up. “You're back!” After looking around and confirming that the laundry saw them obscured, she immediately pulled the queen into a hug and basked in the sensation of her monstrously large chest. It was her normal behaviour behind closed doors. Whether Arciel enjoyed the stifling chokeholds was another question altogether, but at the very least, she put up with them without any complaints.

“Claire has finally allowed for my return,” said the squid, with a tired sigh. Being only level five hundred herself, Arciel had been put through the gauntlet as well, albeit only after most of the other parties had wrapped up their clears. Her trial, however, was slightly different from any of the others. Rather than wasting her time exploring the dungeon, she had been thrown into an arena and forced through a series of duels, each with an opponent tailored to require her growth or warrant her defeat. It was Alfred’s method—the most efficient method—and they had even borrowed a few of his equitaurs to ensure the smoothest progression. Of course, it was also the most dangerous method. In fact, she would have died twice already if not for a certain fox’s last-second interference.

She wasn’t exactly keen on the methodology, but she had gained seven racial levels already, and she wasn’t in the sort of position that would allow for a more leisurely approach. Their opponents were level-nine-hundred warriors that had devoted their lives to self-improvement. Even if she had a talent for combat, which she most certainly did not, she would need a miracle to make herself a threat.

“Is she being tough on you too?” asked Chloe, with a grimace.

“She is simply doing what she must.” Arciel forced a smile. “She likely would have ordered a longer session had I the mental fortitude to handle it.” Fighting the equitaurs was stressful, but they taught her a lot about her own strengths and weaknesses.

“That doesn’t really explain why I had to fight,” muttered the former human. “I gained more levels in that dungeon than I have over the course of the last five years!”

“I do see that you have found it to be a rather fruitful affair.” The queen took Chloe’s hair in her hands and carefully inspected its golden glow as it shone beneath the sun. “Congratulations, Chloe, on your ascension. Would you mind enlightening me as to what it is you have chosen?”

Chloe’s face turned red as Arciel’s drew closer. She knew that the gesture was only driven by curiosity, but her heart thumped nonetheless. “R-right. I wasn’t able to become a vampire just yet, so I chose to be a lewd ancestor instead,” she said.

Arciel blinked. “I do not believe I am familiar enough with human ascensions to have heard of the class.”

“It’s halfway between a true ancestor and a sex demon,” explained Chloe, as she proudly puffed up her chest.

“Were you not presented with the choice to become a true succubus?”

“I was, but I wanted to be more like you,” she said, with a playful wink.

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In truth, the option was one she had debated for what had felt like a few dozen hours. Succubus was a rare ascension reserved for only the horniest of humans and it came loaded with powerful skills to match. Among them was Bewitching Form—the ability to assume the shape that her prey would find most attractive. She could become a little girl for those in need of imprisonment, or perhaps a mature lady for those that had been raised without any motherly affection. It also meant she could grow a phallus of any size or even become a man outright. It was an undeniable advantage that she could have easily leveraged in her effort to win the queen’s heart.

Still, she had refrained. It was both a matter of pride—she wanted her feelings to be reciprocated for who she was, and not the particular geometry of her genitals—as well as a matter of mentality. To become a true sex demon meant that she would have no choice but to regard the sexually compatible as prey. And for that alone, she had rejected the option.

The class’ half-vampiric variant lacked many of the accompanying instincts and abilities, but it allowed for a compromise that allowed her to stop short of the line. The price was a heavily downgraded Bewitching Form. She could still determine the sex of a particular individual’s ideal partner and grow an injector if needed, but the rest of her body was largely unmalleable.

“Have there been any changes to your dietary needs?”

“I’m not sure,” said Chloe. “I haven’t really been enjoying my meals quite as much lately, but I think that’s just because we’re away from the castle.”

Though they had certainly brought a few of the queen’s personal chefs along for the excursion, the ingredients and tools at their disposal were not quite up to the usual par. It couldn’t be helped. There were no markets anywhere nearby, and their fancy ovens were far too large to carry around. It didn’t help that they had to cook larger quantities, which meant that they were unable to put quite as much into refining their quality.

Arciel was a little less certain. “I was informed that you were asking for water rather frequently.”

“Well, it is hot out here,” said Chloe, as she looked at the sun. “And this stuffy maid outfit doesn’t exactly help.”

“Then perhaps you ought to take after the others and replace it?”

Chloe was one of the few maids still wearing her long-sleeved uniform. Nearly everyone else had swapped to a shorter version with thinner fabric, sleeveless shoulders, and a much shorter skirt.

“That’d be an affront to my pride as a maid! Maids are supposed to be graceful and modest. Those ugly summer clothes are indecent.”

“To think that I would see a day where Chloe stands for decency,” muttered the queen. “I suppose I cannot argue the point any further.” She extended her arm and removed her glove to reveal her wrist. “Perhaps this then will sate your thirst.”

The half-succubus gulped. She stared intently at the pulsing veins for a solid few seconds before shaking her head and turning away. “I-I think I’m okay.”

“Chloe of Vel’ilum. I order you to drink my blood.”

“H-huh?”

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

“O-okay, okay. I’ll do it,” she said meekly. A blush spread from cheek to cheek, Chloe gently took Ciel’s fingers in her hands and slowly brought them towards her face. Her eyes flickering towards the queen’s visage, she found a confident, domineering grin—the very same that had stolen her heart and loyalty when they first locked eyes so many moons ago.

A shiver ran up her spine. Her whole body took on a feverish heat as she first pressed her lips against the tips of Ciel’s fingers. She couldn’t stop herself from everything that followed. Her tongue extended from her mouth all on its own and traced its way down the length of her mistress’ hand. She planted a kiss on the kraken’s wrists, and after turning her eyes upward, and seeing a look of approval, sunk her newly grown fangs past her flesh and into her veins.

Thick, viscous honey flowed down her throat. In a moment, the thirst that had plagued her all day was gone, replaced by an inexplicable euphoria that spread from her lips to her throat to the pit of her stomach. Her head went blank. It felt like her consciousness had cut out and returned and then cut out again. A constant cycle of flickering sentience, echoing, pounding through the back of her mind.

And then, all of a sudden, it was gone. When she reached for another bite, she realised that her mistress had taken her hand away. Looking up, she found that Arciel’s confidence had been replaced by an amused but troubled smile, a smile that suddenly straightened her mind.

“More please.” But failed to change her behaviour.

The queen sighed. “It is not abnormal for a vampire to lose herself with her first taste of blood. I admit I was not quite expecting… this reaction, but I suppose that is a miscalculation of mine, given the specifics of your ascension. I shan’t fault you for your behaviour.”

Chloe smiled bashfully.

“We shall supplement your meals with the blood of our prey.”

A little disappointed, the half-vampire forced a nod.

“Good. I shall be returning to my duties shortly, but do not hesitate to make demands of the kitchen should your diet require any further adjustment.”

With that, the queen got to her feet and left Chloe to return to her chores.

The rest of the day’s work was performed to the clanging of steel. Somehow motivated by Commander Kha’oen’s speech, the northern brigade had taken up its arms again for the purpose of self-improvement. Of course, not everyone was exactly inspired by his words. A small handful of people dropped out immediately; five people left the encampment that night, with another ten the morning after. There was also an oddball that refused to participate in any training at all, despite opting to remain behind.

But for most, the news only sparked desire. Everyone that had survived the subterranean hell had come out of it with tangible results. An entire seven people had ascended—granted five of them were maids—but even without hitting important milestones, the warriors had still grown. Visibly. Obviously. Practically overnight.

Lana and Matthias were among the most eager to train. As was the case with many of the other front-running parties, they had the full weight of the brass’ expectations placed upon their shoulders. And unlike most of the others, they had actually delivered.

Though they were among the latest to return, courtesy of a particularly lazy member that refused to put in any effort, the second party was the only one to have cleared the last trial. To Claire’s annoyance, they had not only forced her into a corner and drawn out her vector magic—which alone would have denoted a clear—but also nearly defeated her after the fact. In fact, they likely would have done just that had their third combatant not opted to take a nap.

Lana had changed drastically over the course of the raid. She had become a therianthrope; she could take a more wolf-like form in combat, wherein her face was replaced by a canine visage, and her whole body was covered in white and grey fur. The bulging muscles that accompanied the transformation worked wonders, blessing her with enough might to overpower the near seventy-thousand strength at Claire’s disposal. And yet, she was not the only or even the main threat.

Having been tasked with cleaning up the corrupt nobility, Matthias had gained over a hundred racial levels since Claire had last seen him in battle, and the durability-focused class that he had taken, following his ascension, made him especially difficult to deal with. His carapace was tougher than her blade, and it was only by freezing it that she could break through his natural armour. Worse yet, he had taken a page out of Pollux’s book and learned to regenerate in battle. He wasn’t entirely immune to the pain, as was the case with many Cadrian elites, but it barely slowed him. She had no doubt that he would perfect the technique by the time they reached the Cadrian border.

But while the soldiers were certainly improving, not all was well; Claire was incredibly annoyed to find the base camp’s supplies raided upon her return. The foodstuffs storage had been completely ravaged by what appeared to be some sort of wild beast. Boxes were randomly flipped over and unpacked, with their contents spilled and stomped and half-eaten. Tempting as it was to make the assumption, she realised immediately that it couldn’t have been an animal’s work. There were no tracks to indicate such an attack. Whoever had orchestrated it had perfectly covered their trail.

The timing suggested that it was likely one of the quitters, perhaps someone disgruntled by a candidate’s death, or perhaps the training regimen’s difficulty, so Claire wrote it off as a one-time occurrence.

But much to her annoyance, it would happen time and time again.