From Castles to Carnal Desires. (70)

I turned towards the source of the eerie voice and came face to face with a grotesque figure sitting in a wheelchair. Its gelatinous body quivered, and a wide grin revealed a mouth filled with rows of jagged teeth. A long, blue tongue snaked out, ripping with copious saliva that cascaded down its bloated body.

"Shorty Joe?" I muttered to myself, taken aback by the sight before me. This was not how I had imagined the leader of the Infernal Legion.

With his plump fingers, he lifted the bulging skull of the creature, filled to the brim with blood, and raised the first toast:

"To all of us! To The Infernal Legion!"

The creatures and beasts turned their gazes towards their leader and echoed his words, drinking the liquid with a loud, squelching sound. Curling my lips, I glanced at the drink extended in my direction.

Taking it in my right hand, I hesitated to remove my helmet, instead keeping my focus on Joe. His legs were covered with a gray satin cloth, and his naked body, devoid of any growths, injuries, or fur, looked oddly human-like—almost, but not quite.

However, his overwhelming aura of otherworldly energy dispelled any doubt. Black clumps of energy oozed from his pores, and it seemed that the creatures standing closer barely had enough strength to resist.

Chuckling to myself, I swirled the drink in a circular motion.

A half-rotted woman emerged from behind the leader, pushing a wheelchair towards the throne.

The stone seat, adorned with flesh and skin, was both stunning and alluring in its macabre uniqueness. Pieces sewn together with tendons glittered in the flickering light of grave candles, casting an otherworldly beauty upon the entire hall. The candelabra next to me added to the unsettling ambiance, emitting a foul stench.

The creatures stood in silence, their faces devoid of expression, no longer partaking in the feast laid out on the tables. It felt as if I had stumbled into a museum of horrors, where the statues themselves could kill with their mere presence.

Shorty Joe rose from his seat, pushing the stroller aside with a plump hand. Huffing and puffing, he began to ascend the short flight of stairs. Once seated behind the throne, he surveyed the hall with beady eyes shining through the narrow slits of his face and broke into a smile.

"I invite my generals," he announced.

Stormy applause erupted, seemingly driven by unseen high-ranking beings. The crowd before me parted on two sides, and I swallowed in bewilderment. Trusting my intuition, I proceeded forward.

To my relief, I spotted my comrades who had accompanied me, walking not far away. The creatures, placing their hands over their chests, began to sing to us in a hushed whisper that gradually grew louder:

"Mortem, interitum, chaos... MORTEM, INTERITUM, CHAOS..."

The hairs on my skin stood on end as I met Shorty Joe's searching gaze. Like everyone else, I dropped to one knee. It was the werewolf girl who spoke first:

"Sir, we are grateful for such a splendid feast in honor of the Infernal Legion Your boundless generosity knows no bounds."

″I just wanted to see the real power of the Indomitable Five," Joe responded.

Straining my brain, I searched for clues but found none. Could it be that the creatures who had accompanied me were also generals? And did they, like "me," recently join the Alliance?

Then...

In the midst of their conversation, an overwhelming feeling of suffocation jolted me awake. Something contracted deep within my soul, trapped within the confines of Dark Threads. Kai, not wasting a moment, struggled against the enchanted restraints, attempting to break free.

Closing my eyes against the throbbing pain in my temples, I followed the others and quietly took a seat behind a stone chair two steps below the throne itself. With the clap of bony palms from a walking zombie, the revelry continued without awaiting further details of the leader's conversation with his generals.

Someone brought me my drink, which I had left on the steel table, and a grin spread across my face as I removed my helmet.

That night, I refrained from taking a sip of blood or consuming a single morsel of food. I was amazed by the frenzied activity of the creatures. Fortunately, there were no more living delicacies or sadistic entertainment to witness.

Two days later, we departed from the castle, as the previously unrestrained creatures and beasts had been reduced to barely moving entities.

During that time, I managed to absorb a mere fraction of the owner's soul, roughly one twentieth, along with fragments of his memories, albeit vague and incoherent.

Having secured my victory over the next Transformation, I indulged my curiosity and explored the bustling residential area of the Fourth Level, marveling at the diverse and magnificent buildings that covered almost every inch of space.

Castles floated in the air like ethereal islands, while raging oceans teemed with vibrant and diverse life forms. Here, everyone could find a place to their liking. As a Dark Elf, I had chosen to settle on one of the islands, more specifically, in the Haven of Souls.

Although the name seemed extreme, it perfectly captured the essence of the place. Ghostly silhouettes scurried around ancient towering trees, lending an otherworldly aura to the surroundings. I entered my dwelling, which bloomed with living vines, feeling a sense of tranquility and connection with nature.

Token number 6,541 became my golden ticket, granting me access to purchase unique and intriguing purchases, making life in this realm even more fascinating.

Soon enough, I grew accustomed to my surroundings, donning an indifferent expression as my default demeanor. I had even forgotten how to imitate anger or joy, immersing myself in a state of detached observation.

Occasionally, I met with "friends" and indulged in the richly equipped bars of the Fourth Level, sipping on caramel swill infused with the tantalizing taste of burning alcohol. On those nights, it often felt as if I were soaring to the heavens on a blissful journey.

The first skirmish against a water elemental fighter occurred two weeks after the grand celebration. With the skills and abilities of the body halved, I faced a daunting challenge.

During that time, I also discovered that the Spiritual Weapon of this body manifested as a one-and-a-half-meter sword imbued with a strengthening spell, capable of effortlessly slicing through the fabric of reality itself.

During the heat of battle, every cell in my being was reborn anew, filled with a voracious bloodlust and anticipation that often eluded my control. Despite holding the title of a general, I served mainly as an errand boy, deliberately losing battles and venturing into the lower levels to complete specific tasks.

---

Three years later...

"Mm... ah... Ha, I... I can't take it anymore..." The seductress clung to my shoulders, her slender body rising and descending on my hips. Her waist arched with supple grace, her bitten lips glistening with desire, and her half-closed eyes gazed at me with longing.

Observing her flushed cheeks, I stood at the other end of the Arena, positioned beside the Shadowed Familiars fixated on seven creatures simultaneously.

Startled by a soft cry, I gently disentangled myself from the beauty's embrace and pushed her away, causing her to fall onto the silk sheets. Raising her slender legs and placing them over my shoulders, I thrust deeper, eliciting a moan from her parted mouth. She dug her claws into my back, but her actions caused me no harm.

With a sweet smile, I placed my palm beside her raven-colored curls.

Her nails grazed my skin, almost drawing blood, as she pleaded for a quicker pace. Paying no heed to her words, I transitioned into a slow rhythm, savoring the anticipation of climax for as long as possible.

---

Dressing in a loose robe, I cast a cursory glance at the tigress woman lying amidst the crumpled sheets.

As I ran my fingertips over her thin tail, the round ears atop her head twitched slightly. I covered my partner with a blanket, stained with the remnants of our passionate encounter.

Leaving the dimly lit room, infused with the warm glow of orange candlelight, I made my way to the hot spring, placing my token on the magic circle. The delicate fragrance of roses wafted through the air as crimson petals dotted the water's surface, shrouded in a thick fog. Shedding my robe in one fluid motion, I submerged myself in the hot water, leaning my back against the cool stones.

Long strands of white hair cascaded into the spring, absorbing moisture and carrying away traces of the filth accumulated during months of excursions to the Survival Crossroads. Massaging my forehead, I caught a glimpse of my reflection—poisonous green eyes resembling the leaves of a young birch, a straight nose with a barely noticeable hump, and thin lips pressed into a thin line.

Damn.

They would soon ascend to the Seventh Level. What should I do?

I cursed with irritation, and in that moment, I heard a faint splash. Drops of water unruly splashed against my swarthy skin as a figure emerged, adorned with a black crown and ears that drooped gracefully.

"You've forgotten about your beloved..." Her pale complexion contrasted against mine as she pressed her plump lips against my collarbones and brushed her soft breasts against my abs. Raising her enchanting scarlet eyes, she smiled sweetly, revealing her sharp fangs.