Chapter 50: Prince and The Day of Reckoning (final part)_The King of Desires

Chapter 50: Prince and the day of reckoning (final part)

When I was a child, I was told that music breaths and flows within my veins. If I bleed, music is my blood. If I cry, music is my tears. Music, that’s my greatest inheritance and gift that I have received from my mother, as well as the piano.

The piano chose me from the moment I breathed my very first. I was made for the piano and it was made for me, and yet, I chose the mouse and the keyboard instead.

Can’t say that I am a faithful type even at that time…

Nevertheless, even if I rejected the piano my fated betroth, I could never reject music.

Music was one of the few pleasures I could appreciate and allowed myself to be drowned within it. I never knew what it felt like to be someone else, to live without music flowing in their veins, that, I could never understand.

My dad, the one who sired me, he described music as if it was an instrument within him. My mom, on the other hand, described music as if it was a special gift that existed within our blood. I, I would describe music as if she was a lover of mine.

She was my greatest joy when it was sunshine and rainbow. There was a time that she was a hateful being, a clingy ex that I wanted to forget, a love that I wanted to pretend that never existed. There was a time that I wondered if I punctured my own eardrums with sharp pencils, could I truly say goodbye to that hateful lover? Or would I live the rest of my life forever obsessed about her like Beethoven when she was lost to me, drowned within her phantom? But I would never know the answer to those questions since Mrs. Hạ Đông came to my life and spared me the suffering.

Music was a willful woman, as willful as me or my sister and just as wild. She could not be tamed or reined. She was fickle and complicated, but never complex or insightful. She was brainless, as brainless as I was whenever I decided to drown myself in wines.

Some days, she was the sweetest girl in the world, all sugar and vanilla; and then, there were days that she suddenly became the most disagreeable girl in the entire world. She would do whatever she wanted and I was merely her slave, whipped and reined to her will, an instrument of her.

“Child, what would you do when the sun shines no more?

I will not grieve. I will not cry,

Until vengeance is mine.

I will live.

Child, what would you do when the sun shines no more?

I won’t be cold. I won’t be blind.

The torches my lights.

I will live.

Child, what would you do when the sun shines no more?

I will live

I will live.”

My stupid lover decided to sing her stupid “I will live” song and I was but her faithful instrument, an instrument that lived to execute her will. Can’t say that she is smart girl… I drummed my fingers on the desecrated altar of the shut-in goddess to the upbeat bubbly tone of “I will live” while my stupid and willful lover played her damn song thoughtlessly without a care in the world amidst the wailing winds from the Dragon corridors.

Can’t say that she is smart girl…

She has always been an EQ person than IQ.

That made me a brainless moron as well for listening to her willfulness. ..

That thought made me wanted to sigh a sorrowful sigh, but I cannot even do that, not when my lips swelled with the playful chords, not when I was still nothing more than an instrument of music, a slave of the chords and notes. I was the piano and music was my pianist.

I chose the spot, the very altar of the temple. It was barely damaged from the fire since it was literally carved out of a large rock. I tossed the roll of deer hide inside my arms over the blackened altar, jumped and planted my asses it, flapping my legs playfully as I unrolled the hide, singing still. My eyes have grown accustomed to the reddened duskiness around me, turned to appraise at the tumbled roof of the temple and its blackened wall and surroundings. This temple of Light, compact and humble, built from stone and wood to worship the goddess of wisdom Eogaill was repainted by the masterful brush of fire, darkened in the color of soot and chars. A sad sight, a great sorrow for book lovers and pursuers of wisdom.

No wonder the historical record of Escana recorded by humankind was so messy. But then again, it’s not like the historical records on Earth’s any better than this…

According to the lore, most houses of Eogaill were schools cum temples. They were first temples, schools, and libraries second, in accordance with the shut-in lifestyle of Eogaill. Most of them were built without the grandeur of the Great Temples or the elegance of the Essence temples or the hallowedness of the Faceless temples. Most of them would exhibit a compact feeling, warm and self-contained like a quiet haven for any introvert soul to reside and be away from the troubling matters of the world.

The priests and priestess of the temples of Light were disciples of Eogaill first and scholars second. Some of the disciples were not even the gift-bearers of Eogaill in the first place. As long as a person lived, giving praises to Eogaill and offered her service to the people of Escana, enlightened the mass with wisdom through their service, that person would be recognized as a follower of Eogaill, gifts and magic were not a matter.

In the world of Escana, the houses of Niwdar are the hospitals equivalent on Earth, with a little bit twist on that like the rest of the other temples that are built to service the other three deities.

The houses of Sinintee are factories and forges. The houses of Wonten are martial arts dojos and justice courts. The houses of Eogaill are schools and libraries, research facilities and on rare occasions, courts as well since Eogaill was also known as a pursuer of truth.

The disciples of Eogaill offered one of the most important services to the people of Escana, education. They enlightened the masses with knowledge and wisdom in exchange for donations. According to the lore, some Light Temple offered their service freely and gratefully accepted the donations while others demanded fees in exchange for their services. Most of them offered only basic education while a few specifics provided higher education as well. Then, there were those that opened to the elitists, those of royalty and nobility blood only; however, those could only be found in the largest of cities.

The disciples of Eogaill could be commonly divided into two groups, Traditionalist and Modernist.

The Traditionalist were people who decided to live exactly just like the goddess they worship, a quiet and self-contained and humble life to pursue their studies. They shut themselves inside their quarters and libraries and devoted their lives to their studies, following Eogaill’s example, which led to a life of frugality for most of them.

On the other hand, the Modernist actively reached out for the masses and politics even, arguing that being humbles and shut-in would muffle the gospel of Eogaill to the people of Escana. They pursued a not-so-humble lifestyle while worshipping their shut-in goddess. They valued positions and wealth as much as their pursuit wisdom, arguing that the pursuit of wisdom was deservedly costly and only in the positions of power and wealth that they could enlighten the mass with greater effect.

As such, the Traditionalist and the Modernist often waged wars against the other. But their wars were peaceful and civil, not “civil” in the definition of Sinintee himself. Their war took the form of debates, a war of words since 99% of magic spells bestowed to the people of Escana by Eogaill was not designed for combat purpose and the followers of Eogaill were mostly scholars and nerds. Furthermore, the disciples of Eogaill held the virtue of being pacifists in high regard.

According to the lore, the only kind of magic users that were not scary in the world of Escana were the followers of Eogaill, just like their harmless goddess.

I was sure that this desecrated temple of Eogaill belonged to the Traditionalist from its compact architecture. The location of this temple was also another giveaway, settled far away from the other monasteries of the other deities and even the houses of the villagers, as if mirrored the very lifestyle of Eogaill herself, trying to fit out instead of fit in.

This temple had a modest atmosphere, claustrophobic corridors that lead into tiny square halls that fully packed with shelves before arriving at the altar room. At most, its altar room can hold a maximum of two hundred people if I were to really pack the villagers inside it like canned sardines, a very small number in contrast to the number of houses within the surrounding villages.

From the ruin of the temple, I could imagine the event that happened within it when the worms of Bloodbeard entered it. There was nothing valuable or worthy in the eyes of the worms since the place was packed with nothing but books and scrolls, nothing else. Enraged, they lit the entire temple on fire while enslaving the priests and priestesses. I did not even need to have a degree in forensic to see that. The evidence were plain to see.

This is why the lore recorded by the elves is the most consistent. They live a long life as well as having Niwdar as their chief deity.

That’s why I believed that she was stupid, my oldest lover. Her song of choice was inappropriate and stupid. Its bubbly tone was even more inappropriate. There were a billion of somber songs, sad and mourning songs to match the atmosphere of this ruined temple, and yet, I had to be her instrument and played the damn bubbly song to satisfy her willfulness.

I stared at the night sky to lighten my bad mood. Only the red moon shone on the sky, casting an eerie red light on the world. The other two moons of autumn, the golden and silver one evasively hid within the shifting night clouds as if they were playing hide and seek.

Suddenly, my vision darkened, embraced by a sweet smothering softness.

“Guess who?”

Atuc’s sweet bewitching voice playfully brushed against my ears, carrying with it a sticky hot air that sent a small shudder of desire down my spine. I did not miss her quiet footsteps even while I was singing. I only pretended to not notice her.

“I have totally no idea who you are,” I clicked my tongue, playing along with Atuc’s game, “A voice as fair and sweet as yours, I have not the fortune to hear until now.”

A sweet giggle echoed within my ears, so sweet that it was addicting like my own brand of heroin. I tried to turn whilst removing the delicate blind on my eyes, pretending to, and was stopped immediately.

That smothering embrace tightened as I have predicted, “You are not allowed to look until you give me the correct answer,” Atuc admonished amorously. Her voice no longer had that fluffy shyness like that time when she met me on the watchtower, or revere or formality when she was around Bloodbeard’s presence.

I could feel the overwhelming fullness of Atuc’s twin mounds pressed against my naked back through a thin fabric, everything, their inviting heat that heavy and stiffened with desires, and the two prideful flower buds of hers that were even harder and hotter. Her flowery perfume, which I have come to love, filled my nose, steaming my lust to a painful bulging erection.

“You have to understand that this is a very difficult question for me. Please, at least, give me three chances to guess.”

Her giggle only became sweeter with playful delight, “But if your answers are wrong, there would be punishments.” Sweet nectar slithered into my ears. Hot, sticky, wet, and messy just the way I liked it.

“It’s really not fair of you…” I pouted, pursing my lips, “But I would accept any punishment if it means I could see you with my eyes. I am sure that the owner of such a fairest voice would be the fairest of a maiden in this world.”

A hot peck fell on my nape, “ A Maiden?” that giggle only became sweeter and stickier, “Goodness, how can you be so sure about that? What if I was a dirty whore instead?” Atuc asked.

The word “whore” entered my ears not without an allergic reaction due to how nonchalant Atuc’s voice was, “This world is filled with whores anyway, only that most of them do not even realize it. The greatest of kings and queens are but the whores of their own crowns and ambition. The bravest of generals are but the whores of their fame and glory. The most scholarly of people are but the whores of their own wisdom. The richest of nobles are but the whores of their own wealth. The most virtuous of priests and priestesses are too but the whores of their own deities and virtues. We are all whore of something or someone as long as we live. Even the gods and goddesses are but the whores of their own…”

The smothering blind felt off my eyes and clinched into my lips instead. “Goodness, the nerve of you. No matter how much they love you, if you slander the gods they would definitely punish you.” Atuc berated.

I realized that I was offended by her joke more than I thought I would. I deeply kissed the smothering fingers on my lips and moved them back to my eyes once again, covering my sight with its pleasant heat and enveloping darkness.

“What I am trying to say is since this world is packed with whores. Since everyone is a whore of some kind, nobody is really a whore or dirty anyway. So never again call yourself with that word.”

Atuc’s embrace tightened around me, crushing my frame with a surging passion, “Goodness, you make no sense at all with your argument. If you keep talking like this, I might fall in love with you for real,” she chuckled and planted an enticing kiss that lit a fire on my nape.

My ears picked up on her lies, all of them and filtered them into sweet nothing, “Also, the only living things that are dirty in this world are worms and demons. So never call yourself dirty again.” I told Atuc.

“Goodness, you have not even given me the answer and yet you keep making demands…” A resigned chuckle quietly filled my ears, and then a quick nibbling pain assault my ear lobe. “Hurry up with your answer already. The night is not long…” Honeyed hot air blew through my ear canal and my mind nearly lost within the steamy haze of passion.

“Your voice is too sweet. You must be Hilda the Fallen Valkyria. It’s said that the Hilda can make even the strongest of men swooned and weaken with her songs and fairest voice.”

“Would Hilda embrace you like this? Or do this to you?” Atuc nibbled on my earlobe with her teeth and her right hand slithered into the gap of my pant, caressing and flirting with my already stiffened lust.

I stifled a moan and asked, “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Goodness, why would she?”

“Am I not the one and only Fearless in this world?”

“Goodness, the nerve of you,” Atuc chuckled and sank her teeth into my naked shoulder, as if marking me with her own brand, painful but not too painful, stirring up an itch within my masochistic heart.

I played the guessing game with her a little bit longer, intentionally making mistakes down to my last guess, “Then you must be Lust, Queen of the Succubi.”

Atuc released me of her tight embrace, allowing me to turn around. I feasted my eyes on her ample curves with an appraising smile on my own lips.

Illuminated by the scarlet moonlight, Atuc was more alluring than a blooming Queen of the Night. She wore a different dress tonight, a white one-piece instead of a red one like last night. But, this one-piece of hers was a fire fanner, scant and tight, accentuating Atuc’s fleshly breasts and her lovely white thighs. She looked more erotic with this dress than being naked.

I stared appraisingly at Atuc’s bewitching body, being at a loss of word, rarely so.

“You must be very disappointed, sweet prince. If only I was as fair as Lust…,” Atuc’s pouty lush lips, full and fair as poppy petals betrayed a pretentious anger that dripped with desires.

Inside my head, I was asking myself a fucking stupid question. How did she get here in that dress? Until I saw a thick cloak at Atuc’s feet. And Ah was the only sound echoed within my hazy consciousness.

“If only Lust had a tenth of your brazenness, to come here to meet me with nothing but a dress like this underneath your cloak, and a tenth of your loveliness, I’m willing to die an unredeemable sinner.” I smiled while caressing Atuc’s lush lips with my fingers before fiercely sealed her pretty petals with mine. Lust invites lust, passion curries passion. She hungrily received my kiss and answered my passion with her own.

The two of us flirted and fanned our flame until we were at our limit. My pants fell off on top of Atuc’s cloak, followed by Atuc’s nearly transparent white dress as the red moon hanging above bore witness to our unholy union.

I plunged my stiffened lust into her inviting entrance, uniting our fever as one. The two of us became but the slaves of our wanton flame, steamed and drowned in waves of carnal pleasures.

My thought was the only thing that was still belonged to me on top of that altar.

Passion is passion and business is business, I knew that I have to keep them separated, just like my partying self and my pro-gamer self. And yet, this flame seemed to get the better of me.

The complete understanding that I was playing a dangerous game. The threat of discovery, the imagination that if I passed out for even a second I could undo everything that I had prepared, they did little to stop me. On the contrary, they only served as fuel my heated erected lust. This was already the fourth night which I have yet to sleep and my entire body was already showing signs of breaking down.

And tomorrow is supposed to be “The Day”, the moment I put a climax and an end to my almost perfect script…

Atuc did me no favor either. She came at me with a passion that was hotter than a thousand suns. She’s good. She’s so attentive and intuitive that it’s dreadful and terrifying. She fanned my fever so high that I had no way to stop it. Sex with Atuc only made me starved for more, further and further turning me into a ravenous beast, an animal of my desires. Her ample and fleshly mounds tasted like forbidden fruits that ripe and fell from the heavenly garden. Her sensual moans slowly became a morbid addiction of mine. The fact that she was merely pretending to be stupid and ignorant made this wanton flame even hotter, reminding myself of a mess that I am, a wretched mess of a man.

I was drawn to Atuc not just because of her sex appeal. I was drawn to her by her smell and sound. She smelled like me and sounded like me. We are very similar creatures at our core and we both know that.

Every time I remembered my conversation with Atuc since last night, my scalding fever ascended sky-high. Atuc committed to being stupid by her own choice, that alone made her extremely terrifying and attractive.

From my experience, there is three kinds of stupid people in the world, the one that is stupid because of ignorance, the one that is stupid because they have no choice but being so, and finally the one that is stupid because they choose to be stupid. All three of them are dangerous, more dangerous than the smart kind of people. Atuc was the latest of the three, the most foolish of them all and the most dangerous.

She was more dangerous than Bloodbeard. Bloodbeard was stupid because of ignorance, that made him predictable and less threatening. Atuc, on the contrary, was smart enough to understand her actions were stupid and yet committed to be stupid until the end. She’s unpredictable.

She was so good at this honey trapping that I have initially thought that she might be a spy of the Zombie Dragon and still to this moment, I could not dispel that suspicion despite knowing that she was not. Her words were honey coated upon layers of spices and sugar, stroking on my desire to be spoilt and tamed by her whispers alone. She knew how to stoke my flame, curry my pride and get the words out of my mouth… one heck of a terrifying femme fatale.

Last night when the two of us was bathing in the afterglow of our sex on the bank of the reservoir, I flirted with her, asking all manner of questions. She replied readily and honestly to every question of mine, tempting me to push for more.

By that time, I have already known that the flower that I made to bloom with my own hands was a dangerous flower. And woe me, woe my star, flirting with danger was another addiction of mine. Cannot stop, never me.

I sowed cryptic words into her head, hinting that I might or might not betray Bloodbeard. Her expressions, even when awash with pleasures betrayed a clear apprehension. For a moment, Enfermé appeared inside my deepest thought. Then, that phantom of a thought was dispelled when Atuc sowed her equally riddled words into my head, her answer and choice.

Within the distorted reflection of her steamy eyes, I saw a monster who was smiling because he has found his own kind in the most unlikely place. I immediately knew who sowed the idea of sending an attendant to serve me into Bloodbeard’s head, considering Bloodbeard’s perceptiveness.

Therefore, I asked her how she did all of that, “To sell the idea to Bloodbeard and one-up your competitions, to be a slave of pleasure like this.”

She snickered and warmly planted her lush lips on mine, whispering her answer, making my spine cold with a shiver of excitement. For once, I was glad that I did not make an opponent out of her or rejected her passion because if there were anyone who could undo my script without me knowing, it would be Atuc, not a god or goddess or even a Demon Lord. That’s thought was terrifying on its own, as well as being extremely pleasant, reminding me once again that this world was very different from the game that I knew.

Not once, I have seen this development in the comic pages or the campaign. That made me wondered if this was the reason why the fate of Bloodbeard’s harems was never mentioned at the end.

Atuc was the only one who understood my warnings against Bloodbeard’s worms. She understood my warnings and intention, thus, she approached me. I did not see this coming, like at all.

I bluntly asked her one question, the kind of question that only my kind would ask, “How long have you been like this?”

Committed to your role like this?

“Seven years.” A winter of frigid white shrouded her words.

Such strong emotion can only be love or hatred and I was sure that it was not loved.

Her hatred and fury buried beneath a controlled falling snow but never faded. Then like illusions, it vanished with a lovely moan when Atuc guided my fingers into her flooded entrance, “But that doesn’t matter now, does it? You are here for me now. You are my passion and adoration.” She purred as if a cat in heat, panting roughly, completely lost in her lust. Yet, I felt a shiver on my nape. My instinct told me to GTFO and stay away from this woman. She’s terrifyingly dangerous. At the same time, the rarely used auto-translation device working inside my head immediately conflicted with Iliva’s pearl, flashing all manners of warnings.

Atuc’s words after that were even more of a code, cryptic enough to be understood in two ways as if she was testing me. I purposely pretended to be stupid and misunderstood her words after that to test my theory, hinting her that our destination was the same, only our method was different.

Then, she dropped the bomb. “The nerve of you. Knowing that I am his woman and still…” she giggled sensually and serviced my resurging erected lust.

Iliva’s pearl of universal wisdom could never translate the meaning of this sentence. Only my auto-translation device could read its meaning, Bloodbeard is mine, do not touch.

It was a warning and an ultimatum, no negotiation allows. This was the only reason why she has approached me in this manner.

The shiver running at the back of my nape only became extremely painful as soon as I read that translation, not as painful as my fully stiffened brainless lust. My instinct and my desire came into conflicts, and as usual, I knew who would win that battle. The brainless ones always win and the smart one always loses this battle.

In an instant, I immediately understood that Clariciel’s final warning was about this unassuming looking woman, a seemingly stupid and harmless woman, one of Bloodbeard’s harems.

It was not about Ekar or Bloodbeard or any brainless worm of Bloodbeard’s horde or even a spy of the Zombie Dragon.

It was about Atuc. Clariciel understood that if I killed Bloodbeard by a mistake, I could have been the target of Atuc’s wrath. No, it was without a doubt that Atuc would take her vengeance upon my head, of course, she would if I were to spoil her seven years of vendetta.

Her hatred toward Bloodbeard has already become a manifestation of her insanity.

People said that “The longer it takes for you to extract your vendetta, the sweeter it is,” those people obviously have no idea what they were talking about, only pretending to know about justice and vengeance. There is nothing sweet about vengeance.

Seven years, I could not imagine myself being able to endure living with my enemy for that long even if it was for the sake of revenge. I could perhaps endure and keep my acting for weeks or perhaps months, but seven years would be a stretch. At that time, it would be torture for me, a kind of self-inflicted torture. And yet, Atuc has committed to her role for seven years, living with her target for such length.

I have enough cruelty within me to delay the final blow until it’s due, but Atuc just took it to a different level.

There are those preachers that love to tell me that, “Vengeance is God's job, not ours,” and I would tell them the same line as always, “I don’t read the Bible as much as you do, but even I know that the Lord is kind and merciful. If he is kind and merciful, he should stay a kind and merciful Lord for the greater good of his people. It’s just wrong for me to burden him to plot my vengeance. I cannot ask the Lord to be cruel and vengeful for my own sake, that’s beyond selfish. Thus, my vengeance is my own.”

I approved Atuc’s method but I cannot say that I have the strength and insanity to do it the way she did.

All of a sudden, I remembered a single panel in one of those comics that Misery forced me to read.

“Please spare our husband,” one of Bloodbeard’s women pleaded to Hyrios amidst Bloodbeard’s execution. But of course, Hyrios being Hyrios, he did not listen to that pleading.

Because of this panel, Misery kept telling me that Bloodbeard’s women were in love with him while I kept telling him that it was a case of Stockholm Syndrome. But I was wrong, so was Misery.

The woman appeared in that panel was without a doubt Atuc. Her “Please spare our husband” was a warning to Hyrios. I could even begin to imagine the tone that Atuc adopted when she said that line to Hyrios. Either that Hyrios could not understand the meaning of her words or that he did not consider her to be a threat, he continued the execution.

I reimagined the event and the events followed it. I immediately realized that Hyrios’ demise in the canon history had Atuc’s fingerprints all over it, as many fingerprints as the Zombie Dragon’s.

No wonder he got screwed so bad…

I was glad that I gave Bloodbeard’s worms a second chance. I was glad that I gave them my warnings. Otherwise, this woman would have been my enemy.

I kissed Atuc and sweetly affirmed, “That makes it even better, isn’t it?”

All yours,

I understood that this justice is not mine to claim.

The fact that Atuc returned my kissed and slammed her passion onto mine was her way of telling me that she had an auto-translation device working inside her head as well. Therefore, I only asked her one more question before turning her into my accomplice. I stopped my hips movement, a mocking smirk floated on my lips.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

You are on your own. Can you do it?

Atuc shook her head in disbelief. Her bewitching lips curved beautifully and mimicked mine. She violently pushed me to the ground and pounded on me. She began to move her hips with absolute confidence, that, was her answer.

I joined my fingers with her, telling her my term, “Then, you better not sleep a wink and spoil my pleasures.”

Atuc shot me with a puzzled look while riding me like a horse. I could see that she was checking if her auto-translation device was working correctly because that term only meant something to me, but not her. I showed her an affirming smile.

“With you around like this, how can I sleep?” Atuc moaned sweetly into my ears, accepting my term and sealing our deal as the two of us shuddered with pleasures. Since then, our flame was one in double meaning.

Since yesterday, I have already carved a small tombstone for Bloodbeard and I would stick with it.

Here lies Ashtorá

He, who knows no pain,

Dies in agony.

Atuc worked extra hard to become Bloodbeard’s most beloved woman among the four. She did not even try to be the leader of that group to hide her abilities. She committed to her role perfectly for the last seven years until I arrived and threatened to mess up her vendetta.

The fact that she would be Bloodbeard’s executioner only makes it even more painful for him. Of course, her seven years of delayed vendetta against my three days of retribution, hers was the more potent poison, her knife was the sharper one.

“Ouch!” A sudden pain assaulted my body, snapping me out of my distracting thought. I stared at my shoulder. Atuc’s bite marks were there, with a fresh new one that dripping red. “Is that necessary?”

“Distract… not goodd,” Atuc’s pouty lips pursed bewitchingly. Like a drug, her steamed breath filled my nose as she admonished me. Her fingers stroke my bare chest, running to my chin and cheek, scalding, rekindling our carnal flame as one.

I sank myself within Atuc’s flesh, thrusting deeper and harder just so that her addicting sweet moans would echo within my ears. Her body arched as my fingers sank into her ample breasts and pinched her nipples.

Our craving and addictions joined as one, becoming stronger than our individual will, our master, our slaver and puppeteer. The two of us moved by the will of our master until our orders became urgent. We shuddered as one atop the altar. Our flame cooled down as Atuc flopped her sweaty ample body upon mine.

Our smiles were the mirror reflection of each other. Atuc kissed my bare chest soundly, “Do you know what my greatest wish is at the moment?” Her fingers caressingly traced my chin. Her upturned eyes were dripping with pleasure and something else.

That something else is the problem. I jokingly snapped my jaws at Atuc’s fingers, prompting her to withdraw them by reflex. She playfully slapped me and giggled sweetly.

“That I would grace you my undivided attention?” I joked.

“Aren’t you already?” She brought her lips close to mine, whispering, sucking hard on mine. Her long nail then traced a painful line across my forehead. “I really want to cut your head into two and see what’s inside it,” whispered Atuc in her lovely voice. Her eyes half-closed with fleeting pleasure and curiosity.

Mine as well

“Scary…” I replied, playfully biting on her lips, reminding myself once again that I was dealing with my own kin here. Atuc was so intuitive and attentive that it’s just plain terrifying. It only took her one night to understand my ego. But then, that’s what sex is. It dismantled our doors and walls. It opened our partners and ourselves to each other, linking us through our fleshes and emotions. I was reminded of the time I had to lie down on an operating table to reconnect my served manhood. It was for this same reason. It was when my manhood was served that I learned this important lesson. I was just as unguarded as the demon I hunted.

I was secretly terrified and yet my flaccid lust that was still enveloped within the addicting soil of Atuc’s syrupy secret garden suddenly stiffened.

“Goodness, what manner of man are you?” Atuc giggled and pleased with herself that she has made me hard with but a single whisper. She got me good.

“Goodness, what manner of woman are you?” I mimicked Atuc’s tone, staging my surrender in all but honesty. I immediately felt her flooded garden tightened around my bulging lust, and I smiled, knowing that I have evened the score with a whisper of my own. Atuc was not the only one who has mastered the art of honey trapping and I let her know that. It’s not very often I would find myself in the company of someone of my own weight class and I was sure, it was the same with Atuc.

“Goodness,” Atuc shook her head resignedly and sealed my lips with hers. “I’m glad that we are on the same side.” She smiled brightly and guided my hand to our joined garden, feeling her crowned jewel that was as hard as a polished diamond.

Me too, I smiled and pinched hard on her swollen jewel, sensing a wave of pleasure overcome Atuc’s aching body. A truly random thought entered my mind at that moment and I was not afraid to share it with Atuc, “What happened if… let’s say that I rejected you back then?”

Atuc revealed her pearly white teeth and savored on my earlobe, “Don’t ask a question that you already knew the answer.”

Just double-checking

“Scary,” I commented as Atuc giggled, and once again drowned myself within my carnal desires. I listened to Atuc’s sweet honeyed moans as the waned red moon above disappeared within the cloud, stripping the world around me of light and clarity, not that we needed them anyway.

See Ashtorá? If you had given her the code for a nuclear launch, you would have been vaporized by your own weapon by now.

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When dawn fell upon the walls of the Bundor Bastion, I have already spirited away back to my tower in a proper dress without drawing any suspicion, climbing the steep stairs leading to my room. Atuc was back to hers as well, but she did that without invoking any special skill or magic, solely relying on her brazenness and womanly intuitions. The silver sky and howling blizzard outside did play a part, masking her presence and lovely figure.

I have never seen the sky snowed this much since I came to this world. I have always fond of watching the snow, yet, I felt a bit irritable by this scene of whatever reason. Perhaps, because this snow was warm instead of being cold? Or perhaps, that irritation came from my self-inflicted sleep deprivation instead.

Pondering, I scratched my cleanly shaved chin and felt relieved. I had finally said farewell to my long nails and grown stubble thanks to Atuc’s careful attention. That alone solved two important issues for me, the sanitary issue and the trust issue.

The sanitary issue aside, neither Atuc nor I was willing to fully compromise with the other’s plan. We had our differences and while we can compromise with each other, we cannot fully compromise our plan at the 100 percent, thus leaving a gaping hole in our plan. Neither of us wanted to compromise our own schemes even further. Our sex just cannot solve that problem and that problem would not solve itself.

“Passion is passion and business is business. They are separate matters.”

It’s because we can confidently say something like that, that we both can be so good at honey trapping. Addicted to her passion I was, enamored to my lust she was, but neither of us would compromise our differences even further than we have already done.

Thus, I solved the problem by handing Enfermé to Atuc, asking her to shave my stubble and give me a haircut, not the smartest solution in the world. Considering the history of Enfermé and Atuc’s commitment to her vendetta, the chance is… I would have died the most gruesome death.

I literally handed my life into Atuc’s hand and let her decided for herself what she should do with it, not a smart decision I would say. At the same time, I forced Atuc to make a decision by choosing between her scheme and me. It was my ultimatum. If she chose to prioritize her scheme, welp, I would have been a goner. Enfermé would have inflicted the status on me the moment Atuc slit my throat. I would not be able to use to save myself.

In the end, Atuc just sighed, “Goodness, what manner of a man are you?”

“A very cowardly man. It’s just that I have the absolute confidence that you could not bear to watch me die,” I smiled and tried to annoy Atuc as much as I can, egging her to reconsider her choice.

Atuc threatened to slit my throat for real but ultimately gave my stubble a good shave.

Remembering that, I felt confident to roll a dice for sanity check, definitely bomb it without a sliver of doubt.

While my spirit lifted, my body ached. My hips were on fire and I could barely feel it. I was dead tired, all thanks to Atuc, but nowhere near the exhaustion I felt when I was chased by Iliva’s spiders or the fatigue I had during my first demon hunt.

Atuc’s situation reminded me of that time.

I remembered what I sounded like when I refused to sleep a wink for a straight 29 days while soaking my husk of a body with all manners of stimulants, an absolute insane bastard. However, with or without those 29 sleepless days, I was already an insane bastard by that time. The only difference between me and the other insane bastards was that I chose to be insane on my own avocation, by my own choice, similarly to Atuc’s commitment to being stupid. But then, that made me not only an insane bastard but also a stupid bastard. Even I knew that was stupid, What kind of person would choose to be insane rather than sane?

Knowing that it was such a stupid decision, still I lived like that anyway. I chose to be stupid and insane.

It’s my life anyway.

Why is that matter to everyone else? Why is it matter to this fucking society whether I am sane or not, stupid or not? You don’t even care when I was hurt and wounded. You don’t give a fuck about my life back then, why now?

Why now?

It’s my fucking life. It’s not like I would rob or steal from people or murder or destroy a good man’s life. It’s not like I try to challenge against the very structure of this society and threaten it.