Chapter 438 - Reign of the Crowned VII
Chloe put a hand on her brow and squinted as the mountain gave way to a giant red wall. The colossal construct sat not along the distant peaks, but atop a thick layer of clouds. Despite carrying the heavy burden, they blew straight through the sky, the gentle spring breeze carrying them along with the ease. There were no gaps in the clouds, nor any other way to see past them and return to the ground. When Chloe tried to approach the flying fortress’ outer edge, she found herself ejected from the domain and returned to mountain-range beyond it.
She considered scaling the wall and dancing her away across the rooftops, but approached the distant gate instead. The men that guarded it had noticed her the moment she set foot in the domain, and though certainly shameless, Chloe wasn’t quite shameless enough to bust out her climbing gear beneath their crushing stares.
Approaching as calmly as she could, she removed her mask and her glasses while greeting them as a head maid should. Lifting up her uniform’s dress, she curtsied, a faint, subtle, gentle smile on her face all the while.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Her voice was controlled and mellow, soothing enough that Panda almost did a double take. Everything from her mannerisms to her demeanour to her graceful steps had changed, almost as if she had been upped and replaced altogether.
It was a shame then that the guards spoke no Marish. Communicating entirely in barks, ruffs, sneezes, and whimpers, the armoured, pug-faced satyrs completely failed to convey their intentions.
Chloe blinked. “I am afraid I do not understand you,” she said. “Are you capable of either writing or speaking the common tongue?”
Again, she was met with a series of baffling sounds. She could feel her enthusiasm and willpower draining with every subsequent arf. Evidently, an exchange of words was beyond their means.
“Would you mind if we tried a different approach?” asked the maid. “Please nod if you are capable of understanding me.”
The two guards exchanged a pair of looks before they nodded their heads.
“Excellent,” said the maid. “Would it be possible for me to pass through this door? I have to get through to the other side as quickly as possible. My mistress, the beautiful queen I serve, is at risk of losing her life.”
One of the dogs gave her a pensive frown, while the other shook its flattened face.
“Is there no way that you can make an exception?” she asked. “This is a matter of the highest priority, and I do not have the liberty to waste any more time.”
She clasped her hands together and pleaded with an upturned gaze, but again, she was rejected. Sensing that her other choice had also been taken off the table—they were sure to alert their peers if she started up the walls—she twisted her lips into a pout, leaned just a little bit forward, and pulled on the neck of her blouse.
“Please? I’ll do anything.”
It was just the right angle for the jitterns to leer at her chest. Chloe’s breasts weren’t quite as large as Arciel’s, but it wasn’t like they were too much smaller. Though she had a slightly leaner, taller build, her body was proportioned just as perfectly. It was shaped by a god in all but name—she had sat down with Alfred during her ascension and carefully picked out the form that her body would take.
Everything but her face—she was already pretty enough by both of their standards—had been perfectly sculpted to maximize her appeal. She was mathematically correct. The size of her chest, the curvature of her spine, and the protrusion of her rump were just a few of the many pieces calculated to perfection.
The dog-men weren’t supposed to be attracted to human-like creatures, nor did they know anything about the ratios or their accompanying theories. But even they found themselves curious and tempted as she put her charms on full display.
And with that, the conditions were met.
A snap of the fingers was all it took for Chloe to invade the pugs’ minds and bring them under her dominion. They weren’t quite thralls, but she could have easily drained them of their life force and transformed them into the undead soldiers if she wished. At least that was how she understood the skill from its bizarre description. She had yet to try it, and though she was curious, she refrained from performing any real-world experiments. The ability stemmed from the part of her that had become a succubus and, as such, its activation required her to tease and touch their most sensitive areas.
With no such intention and all the regret in the world, Chloe nearly fell into a downward spiral of lament, but she dismissed it as soon as she recalled her mistress. There was no time to waste.
“Open the door.”
One of the dogs obediently approached the gate while the second completely failed at the art of subtlety. Lying low to the floor, it directed its gaze upwards whilst slowly pushing its face closer and closer to the edge of her skirt. Chloe nearly kicked the stupid pug then and there, but attacking it would break the spell lest it was a masochist. And as she had no confirmation as to the deformed dog-man’s inclinations, she forced herself to hold back.
Something in the back of her mind urged her to play along with its folly, and despite her doubts, she soon followed her instincts and slowly raised her dress with her tail.
She hated the way that the bipedal dog slobbered, but she smiled sultrily regardless and spoke in her huskiest voice. “Like what you see, boy?”
The succubus slowed her pace as her hem reached her knees. Giggling seductively, she licked her lips and allowed her hands to take her tail’s place. The rear appendage snaked between her breasts and up to her lips. Making sure to keep her eyes in contact with the pug’s, she wrapped the heart-shaped tip around her tongue before sinking her teeth straight into its side.
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To her surprise, that was enough to send the pug-faced satyr over the edge. He barked wildly, his whole body spasming as a stain appeared between his legs. The alkaline scent was so horrifyingly putrid that she wanted to vomit, and yet, she almost felt like she craved it. Her demonic instincts burned strongly in the parched depths of her throat. But her growing thirst was immediately suppressed by a burst of curiosity.
For though she hadn’t laid hands on the dog-man, though she could only make out the rough outline of the frog between its legs, and though she ingested nothing, it had excreted its life.
The monster had fallen to the concept that defined her race—the ability to draw out the souls of those she brought the ultimate pleasure.
The kill wasn’t confirmed just yet, but its fate danced between her fingers. In its exposed form, she could manipulate it however she wanted. A single touch would suffice to either bring it to the zenith, send it to the abyss, or anything in between. And it was not just its physical sensation that she could freely control. Chloe could plant herself in its consciousness, show it any scene that she could imagine, or even read its mind and walk its memories. It was a slave, and she was its master.
It was anything but a fair ability, but such was the norm for a true demon. It was in their very design to take their enemies’ souls and subsequently prey upon them. And following her instincts, Chloe did just that—summoning the pug-satyr’s soul into her open hand, she delivered the tiny, glowing ball between her lips and beckoned it down her throat.
She half expected her body to react the same way it did with blood, but thankfully, it was not pleasure, but vigour that she felt. Her fatigue vanished in the blink of an eye. She felt like had enough energy to go for days at a time, and she felt strengthened, far beyond what the accompanying levels should have provided.
Upon recalling the system, and realizing again that she had killed one of the guards, she immediately looked to its partner to find it still enchanted. The second dog was well aware that its companion was dead. But for reasons far beyond her understanding, that only seemed to add to its excitement. It was like a bomb with a tiny fuse, lit as she met its gaze.
She didn’t even get to open her mouth before it followed in the first dog’s footsteps, exposed its spiritual body and found itself absorbed.
Just like that, both of the level 4000 monsters were dead.
With their corpses enthralled, she pried open the gate and peeked at the palace beyond.
She could tell even from the outside, but the royal abode was absolutely gigantic. The population must have numbered around the hundreds of thousands. Most were servants. Girls in simple green or orange outfits ran around the building with cleaning supplies and piles of laundry in hand. Most of the men were dressed in similar blue robes, though theirs were shorter, with ankles and wrists exposed, while the womens’ were modest enough to cover everything but their faces, though some covered even those.
The noble ladies having tea atop distant balconies did so with veils over their faces. The thin fabric pieces of silk, which hung just above their flattened noses, barely obscured their features. It was almost like they were there just to inconvenience the servants responsible for lifting and lowering them in time with their sips and bites.
Like their poorer counterparts, the aristocrats wore one-piece robes, only theirs were far more colorful and ornate. The bright pinks and purples were further accented by beautiful blue gems, carved into cubes that resembled their flattened faces. Similar gems could be seen all around the palace, worn around wrists, necks, and ankles in turn.
Only after noting the clothing’s thinness did she realise that the winter had vanished. Spring was in full bloom. Bright white and yellow petals fluttered through the space, falling from the towering, hundred-meter trees that grew in and around the castle.
There was a bustling market as well, filled with dog-faced satyrs running to and fro with all sorts of merchandise in their puppy-pawed palms. There must have been a hundred thousand jitterns running around the domain. And yet, Chloe was able to sneak in. Not even the two guards on the other side of the gate noticed as she silently passed through the doorway and crawled along the inner wall.
She sped up the nearest tree as soon as she reached its base, and after surmounting its canopy, dashed across the bright yellow roofs. The maid was confident in her ability to remain undetected. Her steps were as light as an assassin’s and her presence as thin as a shadow’s. She looked around every time she ran the risk of exposure and proceeded with utmost care. And yet, she found a group of pursuers hot on her tail less than a minute into her infiltration.
They wore dark navy robes long enough to drag behind them as they walked. Like the ladies they served, the warriors had veils to cover their faces. They dropped down from their hats and almost fully obscured their features. The only opening was a slit over the right eye, just wide enough for the dog-men to perceive the world beyond.
She didn’t think too much of them at first. They couldn’t keep up with her speed. A few quick turns was all she needed to lose the vast majority. The fastest of the bunch, she shook off by dropping into the city and scampering between the buildings.
It didn’t make much sense, with what she knew of their levels, but she didn’t think much of it until she climbed back onto a roof, only to find herself surrounded by a group of twenty, led by a man with a particularly expensive outfit. His uniform was white with a mix of gold and silver trim, and his hat was a glowing blue pyramid. It was adorned with a particularly strange crown. Devoid of any other jewels, it was made of the same material as his hat and constructed in a manner that could only be described as all too square.
“Intruder thy art, upon mine realm beloved, a sinful shadow.” His manner of speech was curious, but even more curious were the effects that accompanied his words. A painting of a solemn jittern appeared behind him when he said the word art. It soon transformed into a model of the castle before stretching itself out into a dagger-wielding splotch of darkness.
“I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice.” Chloe didn't bother putting on airs. They already knew her nature; her escape had been anything but graceful.
“So rings deception, within mine ears wide open, plain as first light bright.” Again, his words were actualized. A series of bells, a floppy ear, and the rising sun. Each phrase was sketched upon his canvas.
“I’m telling the truth. My queen is waiting on the other side of these mountains, and she's in danger. I don't have any time to waste on detours.”
The odd-hatted pug met her eyes from the slit in his veil. And at least for a while, he kept his focus dead centre.
“For candor thy claim, in veracity thine blade, by combat we trust.”
The encirclement opened up, with all of its members, including the strange, speaking individual, stepping far out of the way.
“In the ashen sword, it shall all be brought to light, a warrior’s flash.”
It was only as he said the final words that her opponent appeared. A particularly muscular pug with a blade of grass between his teeth formed first in the space behind the king jittern. And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he stepped into reality. He clearly still looked like a drawing. Having been a sketch, the lines that governed his body were harsh. He was affected by the light, but the shadows that were cast upon his monochrome body were seemingly sketched in with pencil.
He clearly didn’t exist.
He wasn’t real, just a fragment of the other jittern’s imagination.
And yet, there he was. A challenger that dared the blood-sucking succubus to prove her worth before the jittern crown.