Chapter Seven: Wyldfire

Corvac sat back against the backrest of the bed frame, doing what he did best.

Thinking, overthinking, and then rethinking.

Content mumbles drew his eyes, the conflicted and worried expression on his face softening, but not disappearing as his right hand brushed away the black raven hair of his Goddess.

'I need to get strong. Extremely strong. Demigods in myth are always a big deal, and my kid will be The demigod if gods can't reproduce. First things first, hiding her pregnancy. Gods have an 'aura' I've noticed, and any midwife and doctor would notice that the pregnant woman they're operating on is in fact divine. So, I need to learn medicine, which shouldn't be too hard considering this is magic-land and I seem to be some kind of polymath with how easy I learn shit nowadays. She'll not show for a few weeks, and some decent clothes will hide most of it, but eventually things will get too suspicious when she's late in the pregnancy.' Corvac rubbed his eyes. 'Guess I'll have to deliver and learn to deal with any complications.'

Yet, for one 'solution', came more problems.

'It'll be easy to write off the kid as mine, a bastard that I picked up or maybe adopted somewhere. Goddess wants to play mommy? That's cool. There's no way she's actually a goddess' kid no matter how similar they might look. However, that leaves God Sight and those auras they have. If my kids have something similar, shit's gonna get wild.' Corvac's face started to turn black, the wrath of a furious father brewing in the depths of his soul. 'War Games if they're in the familia, and if not, straight up kidnapping and induction. Heard dark shit about the Sekhmet Familia doing just that. So, to prevent that happening, I need to develop enough strength to give any fucker sending eyes at my kids the Darwin treatment.'

A bloodthirsty grin grew on his face. 'It's luck and divine providence that my very job involves the dirty, dirty work of systematic murder. I'll need to really grind the dungeon and start leveling up like a motherfucker. Screw personal safety and infamy. If things get a bit hairy my performance will hopefully take attention off of Morrigan.'

Plots and plans, ideas and theories brewed within his mind; they were dark thoughts involving the desire to maximize his capacity for mass slaughter and murder, and the nervous tick of drumming fingers against the bed's frame woke a goddess.

Bleary eyes stared up at the focused and determined face of a man. A man determined to carve out a place for him to raise his daughters within a world that'd see them as novelties at best. He didn't want to know what was the worst, his imagination could provide him enough content for that nightmare scenario.

"You worry." The goddess murmured, drawing chips of frozen deep sea eyes to her. The blue irises were an exceptionally dark blue, paired well with his own black-hair. He sighed and drew the back of his knuckle along her cheekbone, pushing away a strand of hair.

"I do. We are in danger, and I do not have the strength to protect us." Corvac admitted easily.

The goddess furrowed her brows, before enlightenment came and her hand drifted to her navel. "Ah, you worry for more than just you and I." She whispered, drawing herself up and her brows furrowing in a more motherly concern than his own grimly plotted plans of action.

He drew her closer, "You asked if I'd give my life for you." Corvac whispered as he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. "A bond, it was all I wanted." His hand drifted down to her stomach, "A bond you forged."

The words need not be spoken as misty tears were dabbed away by the back of a hand. Corvac's thumb brushing away the few who escaped. "I have much to do, my love." Corvac whispered. "As much as I'd like to rejoice in our nascent bond, work must be done if we wish to protect our child."

Clarity and focus came to the goddess and she nodded. Corvac left the warmth of the bed and started to grab his clothes.

"What are your plans?" She asked.

Corvac glanced at her, but went back to his task at hand. "Breakfast. I'm starving." He started with an air of joviality. "But, more seriously, I must go to the dungeon."

Morrigan took a deep breath of air, less a gasp and more a settling of weight in her chest. The facts of his future profession suddenly hit with far more gravitas than it did before. Orario's dungeon was a grinder of mortal life, and a new spark of worry flashed into her heart, burning just as great as the one directed towards the life growing within her. She bit her lip, knowing that nothing she did would dissuade him, and that if she did, it'd be against their own benefit. Wealth, power, prestige, fame; all the things that would either topple them or see them prosper would be found in the grungy and dark halls of the dungeon.

She almost wanted to beg for the second option. To leave this mess of a city, this city of sin that proclaims it the capital of the Gods. To venture out and find a place to settle, a peaceful life, a simpler life.

Yet, she found no voice as her lover stripped on his clothes and turned to smile at her. It was at that moment that she realized how young Corvac was. He held tones and notes of maturity for sure, his demeanor and mein were all exceedingly mature, and never would she ever think him a boy after last night. That was no boy, not at all. It sent flutters in her heart, to know that the man roots of love were growing towards was one that only had more room to grow, more room to become even more dependable and impressive than he already was.

Corvac paused at the door as he turned to leave, "Hold down the fort for me, yeah? I have to have something to return to after I crawl out of that hole."

Morrigan gave him a weak smile and nodded, to which Corvac nodded back and left. He walked to where he'd stored his gear and started to get dressed for work. Straps and armor were applied, he dug out the chainmail he'd stuffed in his backpack and fit it over his chest, before throwing on his robe and giving his staff and once over. Once satisfied he dropped the backpack in its store closet and only took his satchel to the dungeon. He'd need to be playing it safe with his more mystical items, as his experience with video games had the Dungeon framed as less a place where adventurers roamed to fight monsters and more a place where adventurers roamed to fight monsters and themselves. There might be more manners than the Kill On Sight and casual racial slurring than he was used to, but getting mugged was very much a consequence of diving the dungeon. Him being a level one with a seemingly high quality kit as a solo no less would mean he'd be the prime target for the more exploitive types of adventurers.

He could only hope his magics would see him through, as far as he could tell, mages were a feared lot; although a solo one meant easy pickings. A stigma he'd either need to fight through in the trials of bloody combat, or avoid through luck and wit.

He was debating on sticking to more trafficked locations or remote ones on the first three floors he'd be getting experienced on. Higher traffic meant more exposure to Adventurers who might put a mark out on him. Lower traffic meant he was roaming in their hunting grounds where eyes and ears weren't looking to report their foul behavior to the Guild.

Ultimately, he'd likely find more luck in the less trafficked locations, as he was truly targeting the rare spawn of the Jack Bird. A rare and exceptionally fast bird that was largely only hunted by Level Ones, a social stigma being established against higher levels hunting the bird for quick and easy cash; thus crashing the market and removing the challenge for lower levels. Corvac was determined to see if the bird could out run his Chaos Bolt, a spell he'd need to inspect to see its velocity and how he actually aimed the damned thing.

Before he could even get started on diving the dungeon, he needed a few things. Despite telling Morrigan he was headed to the dungeon, he still needed to pick up some work materials, which was why after rummaging around the cabinets and finding a simple breakfast of buttered bread, he was out after kissing his Goddess and headed for the Industrial District.

There he interacted with various smiths, many of whom after hearing his request, just scoffed and waved him away. Eventually he got referred to an artisan smith, and put in a rush order on an emblem the size of a heart with eight arrows pointed out. The eight-pointed star was the emblem and insignia of Chaos from Warhammer, something that amused him greatly; although made him a bit leary of actually bearing one of their emblems in a realm where gods were real. The morning bled away and he was seven hundred valis poorer when the star was finally finished, the cost largely due to its rushed nature.

Corvac didn't need the star to be of good quality, just durable enough to not get deformed if he fell on it. He asked the smith to punch a hole in one of the arrows and then threaded some metal wire through it. Said wire he linked to his belt and now he was a public supporter of the Chaos faith, hail Tzneetch, blood for the blood god, plagues for the garden, and suffering and pleasure for Slaanesh.

Jokes aside, Corvac then made his rounds to various specialty shops. There he easily found a decent amount of quality sulfur, the rotten egg smell acceding to its quality. Then he purchased some potash, also known as Potassium Nitrate or saltpeter. Both of which were used in various alchemical processes although it took a bit of describing Potassium Nitrate for the reagent dealer to know what it was, apparently called white ash in this world or region. Regardless, it was easy to obtain a decent amount of charcoal, and then he returned home.

It seemed Morrigan was a bit confused why he was home, before he explained why he was here, then she gave him a bit of hell for being 'so dramatic and theatrical'. Apparently he worried her. That felt…nice. It felt nice to be someone worth worrying about.

With all his ingredients acquired, he then went through the process of creating black powder.

'75% nitrate, 15 char, 10 sulfur.' Corvac remembered easily as he used the measuring tools he'd purchased from the alchemist. He mixed it all in an iron pot, and soon he had what was certainly black powder. But, he needed to test it. He took a small cup of his product and a fire starter. He put his product inside a bowl and then struck the flint. He watched with satisfaction as the reaction started and the powder sizzled away.

'Shit, I need emerald powder, right? Hope that's not expensive.'

It wasn't apparently. He went to the jeweler and inquired about obtaining the powder of his emeralds to which the man listed out a random price for his run off and he came out with five grams of powder for a nominal price. Still, five grams wasn't much but it still gave him about twenty five pinches of powder.

He went back home and mixed his dust and black powder together, before storing it all into a coin purse. He imagined a potential pick-pocket would be confused if they ever cut that off his belt.

"So, you're ready?" Morrigan asked him as he finished preparing his final reagent, leaning on the door frame. He was sitting in what he'd claimed was his 'laboratory', which was rather pathetic in that it only consisted of an iron pot and some bags.

'Give me some slack, I'm literally a fresh-spawn Level One. I should be thankful I even have a staff and robes that aren't some warty piece of wood and hemp cloak.' Corvac thought as he attempted to repair his pride.

"Yeah, I just need a knife for carving out magic stones." Corvac answered.

Morrigan blinked, "You don't actually."

Corvac frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Your bag." She pointed to his satchel, "It's enchanted to automatically harvest any drop-items and magic stone from monsters you slay. It also somehow reforms and stores those that you destroy." She answered.

Corvac worked his jaw, "Erm, are there any other mysteries of my gear that I don't know?" He asked.

Morrigan hummed, "You know what a living weapon is?" She asked as her eyes went to his staff.

Corvac gave a 'so-so' gesture, "They grow with me?" He asked.

His goddess sighed, giving him an amused look, "Your staff will enhance the range, power, and control you have over your Mind and Spells, while also casting at a reduced cost. You can also store one spell inside the staff to instantly cast, although I'm unsure how you'd go about that function. The weapon will also self-repair if it's damaged, and will indeed become stronger as you do."

Corvac gave his staff a once over, suddenly having a new impression of it. He wasn't exactly sure what staves really did in the setting, figuring it was some generic focusing method of magic. But, it seemed there was a great deal of importance on having a quality staff.

Corvac bowed his head in thanks towards his goddess, "Thanks for the help, Morrigan." He said as he started to give himself a once over, now realizing he was pretty much ready to start venturing into the dungeon.

His goddess gave him a calm, if somewhat worried smile. "Corvac…come back." She whispered.

He gave an easy smile and turned to leave, waving as he left. He opened the door and kicked it behind him, before breathing in the mid-day air.

'Well, I guess today's going to be cut short.' He frowned as he wanted to come back at a reasonable time so as to not worry Morrigan, but there wasn't really any means for him to measure time down in the dungeon. He'd not seen any presence of watches or time pieces around, and he couldn't run off a biological clock thanks to Black Magics; he'd be constantly slaughtering monsters and thus in turn gaining more energy to slaughter more monsters. Calling it quits wouldn't be something he'd be capable of accurately judging as he could always cast a 'Wyldfire' on a crowd of monsters and hopefully regenerate all his fatigue in doing so.

'I'll have to see what rate my mind regenerates and is spent at, and if Black Magics restores my mind. It'd be amazing if I can get into a net positive of spending mind and gaining mind using the skill.' Corvac sighed and realized he'd just need to start experiencing the dungeon. There wasn't much of a point in worrying and overthinking things he'd yet to experience. For all he knew Wyldfire could just be a weak 'fireball' level spell and not the theoretical firestorm he was thinking about. At least until he grinded up his MAG stat. He was extremely interested in how his spells would scale with that.

For example, his Chaos Bolt wasn't exactly the most fearsome of spells. Useful, no doubt, but it was in the realm of the casual spammed spell category that MMO characters used. He still remembered his World of Warcraft days of just spamming Frostbolt over and over again.

However, with the MAG stat, how would his Chaos Bolt spell function at higher levels? If it was the theoretical 9mm of his arsenal, then when he was a level two or three would it be upgraded to a 12 gauge slug or fifty BMG? Would there be a point in his leveling and stat upgrades that Chaos Bolt got so powerful it stopped being a mere 'bolt' level spell and was far more catastrophic?

'Well, I'm about to find out.' Corvac thought with a grin as he came to the massive sky piercing tower of Babel. He joined and bumped through the throngs of Adventurers heading into and heading out of the dungeon. His eyes inspected some that were limping along or being carried on the shoulders of their fellows, eyes desperate as wounds were sutured with basic medicinal aid and potions. Others limped out of the dungeon sporting no visible wound but a very noticeable mein of them being rung out dry, a mere step away from collapsing from exhaustion.

Corvac took in these sights with detached curiosity, before reaching the spiral staircase leading down into the pits. He gazed down the abyssal fall and quickly moved to the wall of the guardless staircase, wondering if anyone had ever fallen.

The walk was done in silence, only the quiet chattering of parties and the strong voices of party leaders preparing their party's morale being heard as one went down. Soon Corvac came to the first floor, and with a strong inhale, Corvac took in the scents and feelings of the Dungeon.

'Reminds me of Carlsbad Caverns.' Corvac thought, feeling the oppressive silence coming from the many faceted tunnel entrances. He strained his hearing and heard the distant echoes of something roaring, and then the clash of metal against stone ringing through the caves.

Corvac hummed, his body slightly tense as he came to the face of a combat zone. Never before had he experienced true combat, and here he was to gain his first tastes. He gripped his staff tightly in one hand and mentally went through the map of the first floor he'd memorized and then picked the far left tunnel which would lead him to a rather isolated part of the first floor that was populated with a larger amount of Monster Cabinets. The Cabinets would be his tests for if his ideas on Monster Farming were possible, and also a source of never ending Monster spawns.

Corvac took his first steps into the dungeon, eyes quickly adapting to the dim lighting of the mossy linings. In his journey he came under no attack, but was constantly alert, pausing at any sounds or echoes that might signal a danger coming. The crumbling of stone further ahead, and also behind him alerted him of his first encounter with monsters.

He turned his back to the wall and waited, eyes darting to both dark entrances and soon spotted his first adversary. The goblin came sprinting down at great speeds, and the moment Corvac spotted him he crudely jerked his staff in its direction and mumbled out his chant.

"Chaos Bolt." He whispered.

From his staff a green and purple bolt of light materialized and then rocketed towards the goblin. He felt a mental connection with the bolt and using his eyes as its guide, the bolt arced towards the goblin and slammed into its face. He felt a small draw of something from his brain, feeling the slightest bit of chill within his flesh that reminded him of a brain-freeze, but so minute it was really like someone just left a window cracked inside his skull and the breeze was annoying him.

The goblin flew up into the air and slammed onto its back, Corvac watching with interest as the goblin suddenly started to scream, it jerked upwards and clawed at its face as putrid green liquid stripped its flesh from its bones and then ate through the bone itself. It twitched, fell back, twitched a few more times, then fell dead. A feeling of warmth filled his body and mind, Corvac suddenly feeling extremely awake, energized, and ready for more. It was like an injection of the most natural and pure energy drink he'd ever experienced, and made him want to run a marathon and more.

His sudden wakefulness jerked him out of his stupor of watching his spell's effect, and his ear picked up the slight scuffing and slap of flesh on stone. Instinct taking him, Corvac's hands found his staff's center mass and swung to his left. His staff's head met an outstretched elbow, and with a sickening crack it continued and met ribcage and sternum. The goblin was slammed to the side, its shoulder hitting the stone with another hard crack of breaking bone. Corvac, running off what passed for instinct, pointed his left index finger and whispered, "Chaos Bolt." Once more. He aimed at center mass and a jet of the same irradiated green and vomit inducing prismatic purple left his finger to strike at its chest.

An explosion of pure force, like an invisible fist from god himself, turned its chest into giblets. The force blast separated its lower body from what remained from its upper body, and the spine turned into dust. Corvac raised his arm and flinched away slightly at the rain of guts and blood that suddenly decorated himself, only for them to vanish into a poof of smoke as his satchel automatically harvested the magic stone within the goblin.

Suddenly sanitized via egregious slaughter, Corvac turned to see the other goblin's corpse was gone as well.

He took a deep breath, feeling jittery in his bones and limbs as he turned and continued deeper. He was entirely unable to resist the massive smile on his face, his irises flashing in a multicolored prismatic array of reflective and iridescent light.

'Holy fucking shit! This is fucking awesome! Hahahaha! I'm casting fucking MAGIC! Hahahaha!' Corvac suddenly started to giggle like a madman, his teeth wide in a disturbing smile that was only made more disturbing by the remnants of blood that failed to disappear from the harvested goblins.

"Hehehehe. Haha!" Desiring more, his head snapped to where he heard soft pitter patters of unbooted light feet, his grin only growing stronger as he saw twin shadows running towards him.

"Chaos Bolt, Chaos Bolt." He chanted twice, yet held onto the energy, two orbs of green and purple light floating around his staff's head. He then jerked his staff, letting the twin bolts go.

The first bolt hit fastest, striking one goblin and turning it into mincemeat as it blew up in a fiery explosion. The goblin next to it screamed in agony as the fires and explosive force from the blast threw it to the ground. Yet, the fiery chaos bolt wasn't done as it Jumped to the prone goblin on the ground.

This time the chaos bolt blew up into a cloud of static and electricity, the smell of powerful ozone filling his nostrils just as the smell of sulfur and burnt flesh did with the fireball.

The second chaos bolt didn't have a target anymore and floated in space, and Corvac being of the mind 'waste not want not' recalled the bolt of energy. He then let it float around his staff.

Corvac suddenly gained an idea, and with a whispered chant he started to repeat 'Chaos Bolt' several times. He stopped once he hit seven orbs, having a 'weight' settle itself on his mind as he balanced all seven orbs.

He then commanded the seven to orbit above his head, forming a circling Crown of Chaos atop his head. He commanded one to act as his mobile and very deadly 'magelight', targeting spots of darkness and acting as an angler-fishes' bait lure. It was hilarious sending the orb down a tunnel and watching a bunch of goblins crowd around it, only for him to command it to attack one Goblin.

Sometimes he got to watch hilarious explosions and massacres of entire groups as the bolt turned into fiery explosions or area-of-effect attacks, othertimes he'd watch as the goblins panicked in a beastial manner as one of their own suddenly went down to scalding radiant light, acid, or was gibbed by force.

Corvac turned a corner, only for his eyes to widen as he saw a large gray pillar leaking a sludge-like liquid. Several goblins were crowded around the pillar, and all turned to face him when he entered their view.

One screamed, and they charged, with Corvac's smile only growing to truly insane degrees. His left hand dipped into a coin pouch on his hip, Corvac's smile or poise not breaking as one goblin leaped at him only for his staff to lash out and crack its skull, sending it to the ground where he then planted his boot on its mushy head. His hand pulled out with a pinch of black powder mixed with green sparkling dust, and with a sadistic grin he exclaimed, "Wyldfire!"

His staff ignited at its head, and from it leaped an all devouring plume of fire. Wielding his staff as if it were a flamethrower, Corvac hosed down the entire room with toxic all devouring flames. He laughed as the fires caught the pillar on fire and devoured it just the same as the screaming goblins that were being rendered down into ashes, statues of glass, or frozen blocks of ice. The flames of Wyldfire were just as spastic and confusing as his Chaos Bolts!

Corvac felt the steady drain of the spell, but it was pathetic compared to the influx of energy flowing back into him through the agony generated from the mind-bending and reality defying deaths of the goblins. Slamming the butt of his staff into the stone, his new iridescent green eyes were the perfect encapsulations of the view before him. The entire venue, bathed in green toxic flames! The screams of the dying and damned!

'Ah, if only I could hear the lamentations of their women!' Corvac cackled as he watched the fires burn, only to grow somewhat alarmed when the dungeon shook. From the roof a dozen green arms ripped their way through the stone, the sounds of rock breaking by the dozens and soon to be hundreds echoed through the burning room. Many fresh-spawned goblins fell or were spawned within the reaches of the lapping tongues of flame, causing them to be subsumed and then infected by the flames; catching on fire and then becoming burning shadows running around screaming in agony.

The surviving goblins screamed at the cause of the dungeon's annoyance, and suddenly charged Corvac. The man only laughed and commanded three of his Chaos Bolts floating around him to lash out at those closest to him, he then kept three more in reserve for emergency before he started to cast.

"Chaos Bolt!" Corvac shouted and watched as he got a collateral of Force bolts! The gibs rained down in a shower of blood as he kicked forward and threw one goblin into a bonfire of crystalline bones. It screamed as it was added to the Wyldfire's fuel, cancerous growths growing along its body as the chaotic effects of the flame mutated its body into a tumorous cancer.

Corvac swung his staff forward as if it were a bat, in doing so scooping up a glob of fire and striking a goblin's skull. He laughed as it skidded off the smooth stone floor into another patch of flames, the Monster Pantry looking like a scene from a bizarre and strange hell.

"Chaos Bolt, Chaos Bolt, Chaos Bolt!" Corvac chanted as if a mantra and watched as a line of six goblins were deleted and a gust of fire and flames from a triple fireball effect blew hot hair into his hood. He cackled as he side stepped a lunge of a goblin and brutally started to bash its body into the ground. His instincts blared at him and he commanded one of the lingering stars on his head to defend him, the 'crackoom!' of lighting and the tingle of Ozone making him laugh harder.

"Tyche blesses me!" Corvac cackled as he watched one of his Chaos Bolts jump three times, deleting even more as one blew up into a cloud of acidic blood and another caught said acidic blood on fire. The last blew up with a cacophonous sound of thunder, sound itself deleting the goblin from existence and causing three others to scream as their ears bled and they lost all sense of balance.

Corvac himself at times took damage from his own spells. When he stepped into the flames of Wyldfire, it was simple to just command the spell not to harm him. However, the chaotic effects of close range fire blasts and thunderous explosions did take their short lasting tolls. As when his ears were ringing and fire or electricity licked his form, he just regenerated and never stopped killing. The initial blast of Wyldfire had never gone out as it consumed the very stones and blood that leaked into the floor. The dungeon only got more and more pissed as it spawned more goblins in what felt like an endless wave defense of raucous slaughter and blood. Corvac never tired, his laughs only growing louder and his strikes with his staff more skilled and stronger.

He ate while he sat on a throne of moaning and broken soon-to-be dead, blasting squads of goblins into pieces from his throne of blood. He pissed into one goblin's bloodied skull, face melted off by an errant splash of acid. His boots crushed skulls just as well as his staff sundered the greenskined filth. As the pantry filled with blood, the errant embers of Wyldfire caught onto the blood like it was oil, spreading once again and filling the chamber with its green light. His mind never emptied, always restored in the throngs of physical combat and his sadistic treatment of the monsters, using their corpses as fuel for his bonfires and pyres, kicking and bashing their wounded or crippled corpses into the flames for sick enjoyment. His fists bloodied as he bashed in skulls, his staff slick with blood as he had to use the goblin's own skin as crude wiping surfaces to clean the slippery staff.

Yet, the dungeon eventually let go, its anger and focus drifting away as it saw this insanity would never stop and the adventurer that'd earned its ire wasn't tiring. He hadn't destroyed the floor enough to elicit a Juggernaut's response either, and so the dungeon decided to cut its losses.

Corvac waited for ten minutes for another wave to come, only for a great frown to dominate his face.

"Oh, come on! Fucking pussy!" Corvac started to curse the dungeon's walls as it stopped spawning in more for his slaughter.

His fun ruined, Corvac decided now was as good a time as any to leave. First, he needed to not look like he'd just bathed in blood for however long he'd been down here. Thus, he used his flask of storage to wash his robes and body, a mere rinse was all he wanted to do, and then he basked over a bonfire of Wyldfire to dry himself off, before he started to make his way back to the surface.

Corvac met a few Adventurers on his way up, the few he did were all waiting at the first floor for something. Likely the missing or dead. He then climbed the long-ass spiral staircase, and was met by someone waiting at the entrance.

Morrigan had dark marks around her eyes, far more than her usual eyeshadow which was running. She was wearing a cloak to keep the chill of what was apparently night out, the moon hanging high in the sky and it was undoubtedly some ungodly hour. Corvac frowned as he saw her and quickly walked over, her eyes going wide when she saw him.

He gave her a concerned smile, "Morrigan, why are you out here? It's late and there's a nip about. Let's get you home." He was unprepared for the sudden leap and jump into his arms, the goddess utterly unconcerned by the filth coating his robes and form, his small shower in the dungeon more to get the thickest layers of dried blood off than a true cleanse.

He heard her start to sniffle and cry into his shoulder, Corvac awkwardly closing his arms around her. She looked up at him with teary eyes, "You were gone for so long. It's witching hour, Corvac. Morning is soon. You've been down there for thirteen hours!" Morrigan pressed herself into her chest, as if not being able to believe he was here.

Corvac rubbed his hand down her back, whispering into her ear that he was back and home. Morrigan leaned up and captured his lips, the iron taste of blood pungent in the kiss, yet the physical connection and affirmation that he was real was all that was truly desired in the kiss. They separated, Corvac gazing into her gray eyes, only for them to widen as they stared back.

"Corvac…your eyes are green."

His brow furrowed, "Green?"

"Like, green flames." Morrigan described.

He blinked, "Huh. I did catch my reflection in the blood at times, thought it was just all the fire around me."

"Corvac…What did you do?" Morrigan asked warningly.

He rolled his eyes, "Come now, I was plenty fine within the dungeon; it was a marvelous time." He grinned, "I'd love to have some life affirming sex at the moment, dear, but a short jaunt to the hot-springs calls greater."

Morrgian separated, only now realizing the man she'd been hugging was covered in the iron crimson liquid, staining her pale skin. It didn't bother her, what with her being a death and war god, but it still wasn't exactly hygienic.

She smiled back at him, "I think I'll join you."

Corvac grinned and the two left for the hot springs, enjoying a relaxing late-night, or extremely early morning romantic session of the hot springs.

As Corvac lowered himself into the hot waters, having sent his robes and gear to the launders for cleaning, he relaxed his muscles with what felt like orgasmic bliss. Enjoying the silence, he cracked open his eyes to see his goddess enter the waters and swim over to his side, planting a soft kiss on his neck and then claiming his lips. She crawled onto his lap, pressing herself close to him as he started to nip at her neck.

Soon their affections paused in favor of simply enjoying the other's presence and the relaxing nature of the hot springs, at least until Morrigan broke the silence.

"What kept you?" She asked softly, the back of her hand stroking his jaw.

Corvac smiled, mind falling back into the raucous slaughter he'd participated within. "Ah, it was wondrous." His eyes misted as he truly started to reminisce. "The first time I cast my spells, Mmm, it was the purest drip of excitement that I'd ever experienced. For I was powerful." He savored that word like it was the finest wine. "It is…inexplicable, the sensation and rise of energy I gain from the screams of the dying and damned. That stolen life fuels me in a way that makes me feel unbearably energetic, yet at the same time indescribably hungry for more." His fists clenched, as if trying to grasp that indescribable desire. He shook himself and continued, "I found my way to a Pantry, and there I used my second spell, Wyldfire." He grinned, his eyes having returned to their natural blue, flashed the fel color of his magical flames. "It was hell." He laughed. "It was my hell, one of my making and design. I created bonfires of bones that froze, burnt, and crystalized into abstract forms that violated reality. The flames burnt stone into sheets of ice, it turned the air into a psychedelic gas that had the goblins slaughter themselves; it was beautiful." He breathed out like a forlorn artist that had seen the greatest of artworks and now found himself at a lack of words in capacity to explain what he'd seen. "The slick liquids of blood that my staff bashed out of skulls and chest cavities stained the floor, and upon contact with my flames, it lit up like pitch and oil." His chest rumbled with satisfaction. "The dungeon wasn't happy with my flames devouring its Pantry, and it in turn sent wave after wave of goblins, many of which were far more physically enduring and powerful than the first floor should have allowed; maybe similar to those on the ninth or eighth? Mere speculation. Regardless, I slaughtered for hours, I ate and feasted atop a throne of twitching corpses, laughing like a demented god ruling their domain." His smile was a twisted thing as he licked his teeth as if still tasting the iron of blood that dripped from his face to his lips. Corvac lifted his left hand up and saw that he was shaking, "Ah, I can't wait to return." He said with profound sadness.

He turned to face Morrigan and turned to see her giving him bedroom eyes. Her teeth bit back her bottom lip as she traced a hand along his chest, dipping down and taking his length into her hands. "Your soul speaks for itself, love." She smiled, a hint of mania within her eyes, "Ah, I can't wait to read your experiences from the Falna." She moaned at the mere thought, "The emotion alone!" She pressed herself against him, smiling wide, "I've never seen colors like that within a soul." She whispered, "That prismatic clarity of iridescent light, the wondrous foul toxicity of your fires, all consuming, all devouring; spitting in the face of creation itself by virtue of sheer madness." Morrigan laughed. "Dear, you are truly something unique. Priceless, only matched by the gift you've given me."

Corvac growled and hugged her even closer, kissing her on the lips, "Us. Given us." He corrected firmly, to which Morrigan's laugh tinkered with a perverse mixture of matronly joy and seductive octave. They resumed their devouring of each other's physical forms, but once they'd grown light headed from the steam and fingers well wrinkled, exited the waters with patiently repressed sexual tension.

They returned home, Corvac collecting his washed gear and inventory. There they immediately stripped one another, and fell into the couch. Corvac growled, his blood running high as he was still full of energy from his slaughter within the dungeons, and there wasn't anything like fucking after getting the blood running.

Corvac's fingers dipped down to his goddess's nether lips and there he started to deftly prepare his goddess for tonight's course. His fingers thrusted and teased, coaxed and prodded, tweaked and pulled; drawing hisses and moans, her hips bucking against his hand as he devoured her breasts. It was a symphony of moans that echoed within their house, Corvac's length long since hardened and with an impatience of youth he pulled down her loincloth he'd been fingering her inside of and aligned his length to her lips.

He grunted as he entered her, and slowly entered her, letting her briefly adjust. Then, without warning or hesitance, he pulled back and thrusted deeply into her depth, and with his mantra established he went deep and strong, applying the best aspects of his longer length as he kept a pace that steadily increased in tempo. Soon he was groaning and moaning, his teeth biting and nipping at his goddess' divine pale skin, hands groping the flushed flesh of her ass. Morrgain's voice was loud and while no screamer, she was one who whimpered and hissed, something he found great pleasure in as he thrusted as deep as he could and emptied his balls into her depths.

Breathing heavily, Corvac removed himself from his goddess. He sat down on the bottom of the 'L' shaped couch, Morrigan also laying back as she recovered on the longer length of the couch. Corvac frowned down at his still rock hard length. Morrigan's half-lidded eyes caught the frown and felt a bit slighted as a woman, unable to tackle her lover's stamina. She rose from her lounging form and grabbed a pillow off the couch. Placing it at his feet and then kneeling before him, Morrigan took the length of her lover and started to familiarize herself with its shape within her hands. The soft skin was slick with both their fluid, acting as warm lubrication for the hand-job as she started to experiment with the glands and crown, her lips capturing its tip and her tongue idly tasting it.

Her eyes widened as she tasted herself, the slightly sweet and salty mixture of her own cum and lubrication evident, yet also the delightfully creamy sweetness that was his own fluids. She glanced up at the pair of earrings resting on her lover's head and rolled her eyes at their sheer bullshit. She took him deeper, evidently wanting more of that delightful taste, filling her with desire and need, her body warming up as something was stimulated by the taste.

Her tongue stroked with little experience, but was more than made up with both enthusiasm, a desire to learn, and a growing experience of knowing what reactions Corvac made were negative and positive. His lip would twitch and his feet would bob if it was negative, and he'd groan or make an auditory noise paired with him tensing if it was positive. His hand came to her neck and then took a firm grasp of her hair, his left hand, not soiled with her juices tangling itself into her hair as he softly guided her rhythm for his pleasure.

She felt his length swell within her mouth as she mainly focused using her lips and tongue for his crown and her hand for his shaft, and with a gasp he erupted within her mouth. Morrigan moaned as well as she lapped up and swirled the essence and seed within her mouth, eyes rolling back as more and more of his heavenly tasting seed was ejected into her. She swallowed slowly, only for more content to be added as fast as she could swallow, soon her cheeks were full and she was forced to leak a strand that was quickly captured and added to the mess within her mouth. She swallowed fully, and was somewhat surprised when Corvac's hand cupped her chin. His thumb pressed into her mouth and she allowed him to pry her mouth open. He smiled with satisfaction when he saw that she'd swallowed every last drop, causing him to pull her up onto his lap.

She moaned as he took his still hard length and started to guide it into her core again, groaning as he sheathed her completely. He then leaned back and grinned, and Morrigan realized he was giving her control. She grinned back as she started to gyrate their groins together, Corvac's eyes rolling up slightly at the feeling, then she lifted herself and started to create a rhythm. He took a teat into his hand, groping and molding the flesh as he did so.

She arched her back and threw her head back, moaning as he started to play with her nipples and she settled into a pleasing rhythm. One that was interrupted as one of her lover's hands dripped down and started to play with her clit, the erogenous zone being stimulated and causing her core to tighten and then shake entirely; an orgasm having been reached. Corvac groaned as she orgasmed, the tight walls of his lover's walls grasping and trying to bring him ever deeper. His orgasm tripped and he started to shoot rope after rope of cum into his lover. The rutting paused as Morrigan braced herself on his shoulders, before looking down to where they were connected. She dipped a hand down and scooped up a rope of leaking seed, moaning at its divine taste. The lewd sight inadvertently had Corvac thrust up into her again, making her whine, decrying the unfairness of it all. He just chortled and the night was filled with more moans and squeals of pleasure.