Ch11: The Chief

I could do that, so I focused on my breathing. My every breath felt harder than the last as I approached my limit. With every step, we approached the chief's hut, and I felt myself breaking. Finally, my lungs reached the point of collapse, and I fought on. I would heal. That's what I told myself with every breath as we walked on.

The interior of the chief's hut was covered in spotted furs leading to a small seat where the chief a matronly elf with massive tits, thick kissable lips, and a dick on full display, including her sizeable pink foreskin.

Blood dripped down my nose and pooled over my upper lip before dripping down. Still, I sucked in a ragged breath and refused to drop the technique. The chief gave me a strange look before sighing at the sight of Samael and Elorael.

"So, you've found another girl for your little harem. Why am I not surprised? Please tell me you didn't forgo the sacred rights and take her virginity outside a witness." The chief said.

"Of course not, mother. I will honor our pact with the forest god and mate with a witness. The broken round ear and his minder will do fine." Samael said.

"But not your own mother. Where did I go wrong with you? The broken are to be culled with no exceptions; instead, this one breaks himself with a bastardized breathing technique. Do you have no mercy?" The chief asked.

"My mate asked only for me to spare him and accept him as a member of the tribe. A bridal gift must be honored. So, if he masters his breathing technique, he will be a full member. You can't castrate him either, mother, because he has broken no law and is under my protection." Samael said.

She looked at me then and winked. My hands shook at the implication. I existed with my balls intact only thanks to her. What was her game? Or was she just a sadist?

"Our laws are not cruel; we don't cull the unfit because we hate them. They will never be beautiful and often find it impossible to attract a mate. If they are to live, we castrate them for their own good." The chief said.

"Well, I tried. But, sorry, it looks like we will have to castrate you for your own good. But, don't worry, I'll do it." Samael said.

My eyes widened, but I kept breathing even when my lungs felt like they would explode. I refused to stop. Something warm and wet dripped out of my ears.

Two warriors grabbed my arms, and it felt like I was held by two giants. I couldn't move an inch despite keeping up my technique. Even while I kept up my breathing, I fought against the two elves holding me, only for another two to come and grab my legs.

I swore then to get my revenge on them. I wouldn't rest until their tribe was no more. Then I would kill their god and eat its brain just like it did to the sea god. All that came out of my mouth was a bloody gurgle as I breathed. Blood seeped from my eyes as my lungs protested, but I refused to drop the technique.

"Enough!" A voice called.

I turned to see a white-haired elf enter the chief's house. The elf walked heavily on a cane but still appeared untouched by time.

"Zosimael, what is the meaning of this interruption.

"I would not speak against our god, and I am not the wisest of us, but this isn't right. You claim not to be cruel, but this is the action of the skull tribe. They would waste his potential just like you're trying to do. And I've never heard the law in the songs say anything about castrating a broken willingly joining our tribe. No, we are told to welcome those like him with open arms and make them us. None of us are castrated committing no crime." Zosimael said.

"I don't care what the songs say or don't say. You won't remember any of this in a few heartbeats, you old hag." Samael said.

"That's more than enough time to discipline you before I forget," Zosimael said.

Elorael grabbed Samael by the ears.

"What are you doing?" Samael asked.

"If you don't drop the knife, then mate or not, I will rip your ears off. In my tribe, those who suffer this dishonor take their own life. Is it the same here?" Elorael asked.

"Unhand my daughter, now." The chief said.

Samael dropped the knife. "I like it when my wives have some spirit in them. I agree with her mother he should become a member of the tribe, testicles intact." Samael said.

The chief looked conflicted, and the other elves still hadn't let me go.

"Glorael, this isn't the hill to give your life for. The skull tribe has already sent one of their own to tempt us to join them. They won't ask nicely much longer. We need every warrior." Zosimael said.

"Very well, but you will be his minder. If he can't master breathing constant within the week, he will be removed from the tribe and our lands. Let the skull tribe have him." Glorael said.