AN: There is a section of this update closed behind a spoiler tag due to the rather adult nature of the content. Be warned that I did not write it for 'sexy qualities' but it does use mild sexual interaction and imagery to further the development of the characters involved. If you don't have any desire to read such things , don't click the spoiler tag.

Chapter 41.3: You're Welcome, Humanity

Many sayings existed in the world, when it came to dealing with difficulties. One person might cite the fact that when it rained, it poured. Another might speak of the many fires that needed to be put out. They were all euphemisms or allegorical statements designed to encapsulate the fact that sometimes, life was hard.

Life had become increasing difficult for Sheriff Ansen and his group. That was why he had come to speak with the only associate that he had who had any particular capacity to help his situation.

"So, the looters near your base have started to work together?" asked Scott. He offered the sheriff a bottle of reinforced apple juice then waited for an answer.

The Sheriff took it gladly then nodded before opening it up. "They are becoming bold. I don't know if they have a faction, yet."

Scott rubbed his chin. Looters banding together might be either a good or bad thing. Honestly, it depended entirely on the sort of looting that they did. It was to be expected that normal people without the resources of two worlds to fall back on would acquire as much as they could to survive. "These looters, are they attacking people or just breaking into buildings?"

"Both. They openly attack my men, and we caught one group dragging a few unconscious girls out of a house. The looters had killed a few people inside, mostly men and an elderly woman."

"Ah, no need for negotiations then." said Scott. If they had simply been well-organized survivors looting empty houses that was something he would not concern himself with, much. People who killed other survivors and dragged young women off could only engender one reaction from him.

"So, you'll help us?" asked Ansen, hope rising in his voice.

"Tell me everything you know about these looters and their location. We'll work out a plan of attack." said Scott.

"That's great...! I had hoped that you'd—" began Ansen.

"I want half." said Scott, cutting him off with a grin.

"Half...?" asked Ansen, a knot growing in his stomach. Here it came. The negotiation that he had grown to fear. The worst part was that the offers made were always so damned reasonable that it was nearly impossible to say no to the red eyed man.

"Whatever they got. I want—" Scott tilted his head to the side then flashed his canine teeth in a slightly predatory smile. "Half."

Ansen sighed then nodded his head. His faction needed the supplies desperately. It was obvious that his people needed them far more than Scott's people did. In fact, Ansen's crew needed those supplies as desperately as they needed the looters gone. Still, half was better than none. It was such a reasonable request that he accepted it out of hand. It would be pointless to argue anyway. Scott rarely negotiated on anything. He would make an offer that he deemed reasonable. It was either taken, or it wasn't.

"Fine... So, do you have a map?" asked Ansen.

Scott glanced over to Shara and she grinned at him before scooting off to grab a map of the city. There were plans to be made.

**

The long day of planning wore on. Deals were made, and decisions were decided. Scott retired to his room after dinner and spent a few hours contemplating his book. He had lost count of the number of times that he had studied the thing from cover to cover. Most of its contents were theory based, little practical knowledge. The most important secret that it contained was how to draw mana. Admittedly, that little tip had caused his skill level as a mage to skyrocket.

Due to his draconic nature, and various magical skills, his raw spiritual power was nearly as high as a trained human mage more than twice his level. It was not enough, however. He needed more. He needed a lot more. There was a reason why true mages were a rarity in the world. Defying the laws of physics ordained in the origin of this universe, even with game system assistance, was no simple task.

It was about two hours before midnight when he heard a gentle knock at the door. Scott looked up from his studies and glanced at the door. It had come at last, the thing he dreaded most.

He took a deep breath then slipped out of bed. He wore nothing but his boxer briefs as he padded over to the door. Another soft knock echoed through the room and he sighed. He placed his hand to the knob then twisted it casually. Now open, the fearsome thing on the other side of the door was revealed.

Sonja, fearsome creature that she was, stood before him in her traditional glory. Her hair gleamed in the dim light. Her soft pink lips were pressed into a gentle smile. Much like Scott she wore only that smile and her traditional garb, a simple white apron. In her hand she held a telltale item. It was a sleeping mask.

The time for battle had come again... Would the hero rise to the occasion, or fall to the darkness that dwelled within...

"Hey." said Scott softly.

"Hello." said Sonja, her eyes shimmered softly in the light as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"I don't know... Are you a vampire here to drain me dry and make me sparkle?"

She snorted a little then shook her head. "Perhaps. I'm uncertain of what lore you refer to, but we may very well sparkle as a result of our actions. You may also feel quite drained afterward..."

It always seemed to be this way between them. Scott had more than a few misgivings about his ability to withstand intense social interaction with someone he cared for, but he had long since accepted that Sonja was someone he did not wish to harm with his baggage. "Come on in..."

The Valkyrie flashed him a bright smile then entered the room casually. Her shoulders were squared and her chest thrust forward. She had enough sexual confidence for both of them and it showed.

Scott closed and then locked the door. He stared at it for a moment then took a breath and turned around to face the hardest battle he could fight. No monster or looting asshole caused nearly as much difficulty for him as the simple sight of one of his beautiful companions gazing at him in that special way that a woman has about her.

Sonja placed her hands upon her hips then gazed at him in a stoic manner. "Have you prepared yourself to keep your promise?"

A slight smile crossed his lips. "My body is ready."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "That is a start I suppose." The apron clad woman lifted her hands then opened her arms wide. "Come."

"Are you sure..." began Scott. He did not want to hesitate, but he could not help himself. Even looking at her in such a manner had already caused certain unwanted images and sensations to begin to rise up within his mind. They clamored for his attention, despite the glory which stood before him.

"Come." repeated Sonja, a dangerous light in her eyes.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as he did so he did his best to fight back the unwanted images, the terrible memory. Just as he started to open them, he took a step forward. It would be the first of many steps taken on the road to recovery that night.

Spoiler :

It began as a simple thing, a moment of sweetness. Scott's arms slipped around Sonja's waist. Her arms slipped around his. For a time they did nothing more than hold each other. They chose to spend that time being close to each other without any heavy matters between them.

In time eye, Scott's lips found her shoulder. It was a subtle motion, a quiet acceptance that he was ready to at least make a true attempt at intimacy with her that evening.

Sonja, perhaps the most patient woman alive, merely stroked the back of his head and closed her eyes. She allowed him the luxury of being sweet with her.

Scott's lips kissed a slow, fiery, trail along the curve of her neck. She made a sweet noise then smiled softly when he made a comment about how beautiful she smelled. It had been a clumsy comment, but it was still a nice thing to hear.

Soon their lips met in a tender caress. Sonja's tongue peaked slightly from between her lips, and then began to lightly tease Scott's tongue in a playful dance.

Neither of them knew how they ended up on the bed, but neither did they care. Scott slipped the sleeping eye mask over his head and covered his eyes. Much like a hunting hawk, too much visual stimulation would make it impossible for him to be calm at this time.

Their lips continued to draw upon each other as though they desired to suck the very breath from each other's lungs, even as Scott's emboldened fingers crept toward the grand treasure between her thighs. As his fingers neared their destination he began to hesitate, but Sonja would have none of it. She clasped the back of his hand with her and guided his hand the rest of the way. She also pulled her apron away to allow him the proper access that he needed.

His fingers lightly perched atop her maidenhood, Sonja unleashed a low moan against his mouth as he began to caress her. Scott's breathing became heavier. His expression darkened. He gritted his teeth even as a single tear tracked down his cheek.

That dark and disastrous expression did not abate until he heard Sonja's sweet matronly voice gently whisper, "That's good. You're doing good..."

Expression lightened slightly, his fingers moved a little faster. Sonja gasped against him when they slipped between her hot pink folds and touched her most physically intimate of places.

Scott panted heavily, it was obvious that even this much was difficult for him. Even without the actual sight of the situation, he struggled with the images that tried to pop up inside his head. It was extraordinarily difficult to fight back against the constant barrage of memories, of the twisted and macabre things that had been done to his little sister, and the aftermath of it all that he had seen with his own eyes as a child.

"Deeper... It's alright, I like it..." whispered Sonja. "Deeper, and a little faster."

The sound of teeth grinding echoed through the air, followed by heavy panting from two different people as Scott's fingers penetrated beyond the friend zone, and deep into the heart of the mighty beast.

Sonja made a slight squeal of excitement that caused Scott to slow his motions, but she prompted him to keep going. Actually she cried out, "Don't you dare slow down..." before she unleashed a breathy moan.

Images flared to life inside his mind. They refused to be denied. Hot tears poured down his cheeks as he continued despite them. It was sick. It was twisted. He actually heard a voice inside his head call him disgusting, a filthy degenerate. It was a strange voice, one he had not heard before.

He gritted his teeth hard enough that it was possible that they might soon crack. His free hand slid down to cup Sonja's wonderfully pert backside for leverage then he leaned into her. His other hand, hard at work in caressing her inner most place, moved faster. Soon, he was rapidly pumping his fingers as deep inside of her as they would go. He did so at a frantic pace that caused her to start wriggling in surprising and provocative ways.

Scott's jaw unclenched and loud, desperate, pants escaped him. Before he could say anything that might have ended their tryst, Sonja pulled his head down and shoved her left breast into his mouth. "It's alright!" she cried. "Keep going."

By some unknown reflex, his lips clamped around her nipple. His furious finger thrusts slowed, but his gentle caress of her breasts with his lips and tongue caused an entirely different sensation to flow through her body.

Sonja curled her body around him then smiled gently. She stroked his hair and whispered gentle words of encouragement while the embattled man rallied his forces to continue his never-ending struggle with the demons that dwelled within his soul. It was a small success, a tiny assault on the ancient bastion of torment built within him, but it was still a victory. A single step forward had been made, and this time he had not been forced to retreat. Progress at last.