Chapter 010: Relief

QUEST PROGRESSION

Type: Location Quest

Name: The Descent Into Depths

Difficulty: Mithril X

You’ve managed to survive the encounter with the Fleshling. Now you know that Pentagram is involved in whatever is happening in the mine. Are they responsible for the downfall of The Descent, or is there a deeper layer to this enigma?

The table appeared when we returned to the entrance of the mine, at which point we collectively sighed with relief. The Fleshling wasn't a creature we could slay at this point. The situation will change in twenty levels, but for now? Not a chance.

Something was weird with the mine. I mean, outside obvious things, like it being frozen in time, filled with murderous undead and stalked by shape-shifting man-eating daemons. Most anomalies gave subtle hints to their true nature. With the level of fanaticism the DFI had towards perfecting things like that, if there was something odd, it was most likely done on purpose and was meaningful.

Why legionnaires and velites? Rome didn't station regular army forces in mines. I doubted that the Kynevian Empire was in any way different. According to their descriptions they were already here when Khyzarich assaulted The Descent... but why? Were they sent to defend it from his/her assault or was a deeper meaning behind it? And what about the Pentagram? The Fleshling was hostile to the undead, so this whole Defiler seemed to not have any connection with the Pentagram.

So many questions, so little chance to get the answer at this level. If the quest difficulty was Mithril X, the last boss (if there was one) was probably equally strong. Which meant that we would require around ten adventurers at level 50... to stand a chance. It all depended on how well they were prepared to counter boss skills and spells. In most cases, the first one or two boss raids were pure reconnaissance with no chance of victory and a sad tendency of ending in partywipe.

When we emerged from the mine, we ran into a group of adventurers heading the opposite way. Two players - a shadow celestial Black Knight named Vasyr Mirenir and a dark elven Death Sorceress named Vhera Vharsatyr. Two NPCs - a human female rifleman named Ratha Eagle-Eye and a forest elf Daggerer named Khaesyn Var. So... a heavy tank, a magic user, a mundane distance fighter and a rogue. Well-balanced team, unlike a certain group. Our levels were higher though.

There was always a risk of Player Killers running around. Ambushing a group returning from the anomaly/dungeon - often wounded, beaten up and tired, but also carrying treasures - was a decent, even if unfair strategy. But since they seemed startled by us emerging from the entrance, I decided that it was unlikely, so I waved my hand towards them in a friendly gesture. The rest of my team remained more cautious and stayed behind when I walked forward to welcome them properly.

"Hello there!" I greeted them when I came closer. They greeted me back after deciding I'm not a threat. "You’re going into the mine?" Only then I understood it was a stupid question. I mean, where else could they fucking go. We were in the middle of nowhere right next to the entrance to The Descent.

"Yes." The Black Knight seemed to be the leader. How... predictable. He was tall, with black hair, slightly pale skin and... well, we were similar in looks. In origin as well - the shadow celestials were halfdaemons as well, born from the union between shadow angels (servile daemons of the local deity of revolution and anarchy) and mortals, in most cases humans. "Is there a problem with that?" He didn’t sound defensive.

"Actually, yeah. Something nasty is roaming upper layers." Well, trying to cultivate friendly connections to locals wasn't a bad idea... even if most of them were degenerates. "Silver IV Pentagram-aligned daemon. It already massacred at least a single adventurer team. We barely escaped it, but it is most likely still there. It can camouflage itself as people, so if you run into a lone person in there I suggest running as fast as you can." I decided to not mention the casualties. No reason to show that we are vulnerable now.

"Oh." The Black Knight glanced at the Sorceress. She nodded. Huh. "Thank you for the warning."

"I know you." Sorceress looked at me, ignoring her companion. "You were in the adventurer guild during Robinson’s speech." Oh.

"Well, yeah." Trying to pretend otherwise was probably a bad idea. Let's try to learn something instead. "I hope I'm not considered a kill-on-sight in the city for that?"

"No, you aren't. He wasn't the only one person to dissolve."

The Black Knight interjected after glaring daggers at her companion. "They will probably ask you a few questions, though. If you knew him, if you have any idea what happened to him and so on." I nodded. Well, it looked like Ambryxis was open to us again... for better or for worse. Might be for better this time, since buying Lena some aura techniques or even having her undergo combat training would be a good idea.

"The Ravine is close by," The girl with the magitek self-repeating rifle interjected. "Maybe half a day of travel."

The Black Knight sighed. "Yeah, I guess that might be a good idea. I'm not particularly fond of mines, especially when they’re roamed by Silver-IV daemons." He turned towards me. "Well, thank you once again. I'll try to repay the favour one day." Interesting. He seemed like a decent person... which meant he was either type two (slightly edgy person who went to a Doomplace before deciding it is too much) or type one (pervert - not all of them are bad people). The well camouflaged type three (psychopath) wasn't impossible, though.

***

Leria was smart - and kind - enough to predict when we might be returning, and had Kytar prepare us a welcoming feast. Well, feast might have been a little too big of a word, but something warm to eat was a blessing.

After we ate, I handed Kytar a little gift. While being in the mine I ‘liberated’ a few decent looking pickaxes and a wheelbarrow to carry stones out. Thankfully, the Equipment size grew with more followers; the wheelbarrow wouldn't fit otherwise.

"Take this." He smiled widely. "And pick one of the collapsed tunnels. Just... warn us when you clear it completely, ok? I don't want to wake up to the sight of a bunch of daemons breaking into my bedroom."

"Neither do I." He chuckled. " Well, I'll dig in the free time. "

... He is weird. Seriously. Who the fuck is happy to dig in their free time?! I would prefer to lie in bed all day. Well, I will not protest; he is free to do whatever he wants. I'd have freed him and let him go if he asked. The reason I'm not telling him that is that this is the perfect way to keep my moral integrity more or less uncompromised while still having a cook... and making the Tyrant's Hold location remain a secret.

Besides, he seems to enjoying it, so what's the problem?

***

Being a boss of a 'gang' had its benefits. For example, I had my own quarters, including a large library, a study, and a bedroom. When I wasn't needed, I took a book from the library and wine from the kitchen... and then lay on my bed, reading and drinking.

Ah, it was bliss. It was a much higher standard than my real life apartment. Made me wonder if they had already moved my body somewhere else. Perhaps to a hospital, since it seemed like I would spend a long time in here. Bedsores, dehydration, starvation, those sort of things.

Seriously, how the fuck had DFI pulled this off?!

Hurried knocking interrupted my thoughts. Hmph. Who might it be?

"Come in!"

Oh shit.

It was Simea. Her face was almost red, and she was panting heavily.

"P...please. I can't hold it anymore." The last remaining bits of her self control crumbled. She bent forward, her hand disappearing beneath her skirt. "I... I can't do it."

... Oh shit indeed. If she went like that to Ambryxis there was a 100% chance she would end up raped and/or enslaved. Being addicted to sex/not controlling your libido were dangerous flaws in the Doomplaces. Almost as terrible as being submissive. They worked well only in bad fanfics these places seemed to spawn in masses.

In World's Requiem the most powerful Lust Mage ever - mentioned sometimes in lore and in a few quests - was a eunuch. The lust of mortals was a mean to an end for him. He used it to manipulate others while being resistant to it himself. Most Deviation worshippers were crazy sex addicts, while most of her Chosen had incredible self control. Despite being perverted.

I put the book away and sat on the edge of my bed. I guess it's time for the worst-case scenario. It will get awkward. Let's try to keep it the least awkward possible.

Spoiler: Spoiler

"Come here." She almost ran towards me, a broken junkie when somebody waves his drug in front of him. "Kneel."

She kneeled obediently right before me. Having 'normal' sex was out of the question completely. For starters, I wasn't interested. And neither was she, if you exclude the overwhelming lust clouding her mind. This would border on raping her, to be honest; she might have thought I took advantage of her state. I saw much smaller things breaking guilds in World's Requiem.

Thankfully, normal sex wasn't required. It was the most efficient way, but pretty much everything was enough as long as it was sexual and she wasn't doing it alone. It was less of a straight sex addiction or overwhelming libido than a hereditary mental conditioning.

It was a rather shameful thing, but I disrobed. She was almost drooling at the sight. If we were in a hentai, she would drool for real while her pupils would change into heart-shaped ones to signify how aroused she was.

Ugh. This was disgusting. If she was in love with me (and I with her) it would be different. Now? I wasn't into the 'let's fuck each other' approach. Casual sex wasn't my thing. Especially this kind... if there was anything casual in it.

I also took down my pants before sitting again on the edge of the bed. My general idea was for her to use her hands while I would have my eyes closed, fantasizing about something arousing to keep myself hard. It was the most impersonal and least awkward way of fixing her condition, at least for the time being. Unfortunately I underestimated how much she lost it. I failed to even start instructing her—before she lunged forward, impaling her head on my member.

... So it's a blowjob, I guess. Sigh. The last thing I saw before closing my eyes was both her hands disappearing under her skirt. Then I tried to keep myself hard.

Ultimately, the wetness of her mouth, the feeling of her inexperienced tongue fervently swirling around my dick, and my imagination worked. I could feel myself emptying in her mouth. She tried to swallow (mental conditioning struck back), but she failed and coughed some of it out. Then she froze. I guessed what happened and put my pants back where they belong to spare her the sight.

"Better now?" She looked up at me, shocked. The mental conditioning of a night elf must have been at least temporarily suppressed (especially if she brought herself to orgasm with her fingers... which she most likely managed at least once or twice during this shameful event), pushing her human consciousness back into control.

Finally she nodded.

"Y... es." She spit some of my seed on the ground. Her face was filled with disgust. "Am I supposed to do this regularly?!"

"Unfortunately." I looked at her sympathetically. "Well, using your hands should be more than enough. I failed to tell you that before you... uh." I looked away from her. She was already ashamed, and making it worse by reminding her of the details wasn't nice.

She left the room in a hurry. Uh. It still ended up awkward.

This... wasn't how I hoped to spend my time in Gates of Eternity. Ugh. Let's hope she won't feel offended or raped.

***

During our welcome 'feast', we had decided to make a brief trip to Ambryxis. We had to make Lena into someone useful on a battlefield. During our trip to The Descent we accumulated some valuables - mostly alchemical ingredients - plus we decided to sell the unknown potions we inherited from the cult. They were useless to us, after all. This should give us money to have her undergo basic combat training of some melee oriented class, plus some equipment.

Simea tried very hard to not look at me while we packed. I decided to give her a moment to work it through... before telling her that such an indirect way of satisfying her lust would work only briefly. Three or four days at best before she starts losing it again.

Now that I thought about this, she might have expected me to use some sort of alchemical concoction to prevent her libido from mindraping her into a mindless sexual appliance. Rather than the method I ended up using. Sigh. I guess I'll try to clear this... misunderstanding when we will have a moment alone.

***

Upon reaching Ambryxis I was interrogated, but it was in a rather casual manner. It looked like the locals already decided it was some worldwide magical event that dissolved random people into nothingness, but interrogated people just in case. I denied being responsible for this, but confessed to knowing - and hating - the victim. Just in case they had some sort of magic thingy to detect lies. My play as an opportunist slave-thief went well and soon we were allowed to enter the city proper.

The alchemical ingredients and potions sold for nine hundred thirty ambries. The guy in a pawn shop identified them for us - most of them were aphrodisiacs and other sex related things, including local version of rape pills. I decided not to think about why the cult needed a whole storage of this stuff. I don't want to know.

It cost us four hundred ambries to set Lena for training as a Darksword. It was a class that combined aura manipulation and heavy armors with black magic. There were classes that combined both aura and magic - it worked pretty well when you had one as a focus and the other playing a supportive role. Most Darksword skills were aura-related, but there were also skills that allowed teleporting between shadows), weakening enemy lifeforce at a short distance and so on. The Black Knight I met earlier was similar, but it had a focus on black magic and aura as support.

Two hundred ambries we used on resupplying our food. One hundred for spending three nights in a low budget tavern. Lena's training would not be instantaneous, and I wasn't about to leave her alone in this city as a slave, even if she was owned. At least the trainers were professionals, used to training battle slaves and well aware that damaging the 'goods' they were entrusted with was a bad idea.

With the training finished, I re-designated her as Battle Slave. Now that she could fight, it was much better than Bedwarmer, since all she need to do was listen to my orders in combat and call me master.

The last two hundred ambries all went for Lena's new equipment. It was enough for a low grade steel breastplate, a rectangular iron shield, and a spear from oak wood and iron. Since the target was to make her wear full heavy armour, we were still leagues away. What we bought still gave her a boost of confidence. She needed it after her rather traumatic beginnings.

The night before returning to Tyrant's Hold, there was a knocking at my door.

"Come in." I was already preparing to sleep, but not yet in the bed. I wondered for a while who it was... before I saw Simea's face.

Oh.

"Hi." She looked down and blushed. "Uhm... about that time..."

"I'm sorry." This surprised her. She looked up, our eyes meeting for the first time in a few days. "I only understood that you didn't expect me to use this particular method to deal with your problem after it happened. Unfortunately, even the best alchemical anaphrodisiacs only delay the breaking point about as well as masturbation, so... "

Now it was me who looked down. There was an awkward silence for a while. It was Simea that broke it.

"Can I sit?" She pointed to one of two chairs beside the table. The room was small: bed, small table, two chairs and a window that made the air inside breathable. While letting too much noise inside, in my opinion.

"Of course." I sat on the other chair, on the opposite side of the table. After she sat, awkward silence returned for a while.

"There are other ways to deal with it." This time I spoke first. I could see a glimmer of hope on her face. "The best hope for you is to get Deviation's favour. If you become her Chosen One, one of the potential divine powers you can ask for is an ability to have control over your libido. It will also work on your mental conditioning."

"How can I do that?" The hope kept growing.

"Here the troublesome part begins. Most Chosen Ones are picked when they are at least level 50." I could see her balloon of hope suddenly deflating. We were most likely months apart from that moment. "Also, it won't be easy to gain her attention. Your strange circumstances as a night elf who isn't happy about having sex might be a boon here, since they make you unique." Now comes the bad part. "The best way would be to join a local temple of Deviation but it's a sacred brothel."

Yeah, she must have seen it when she was in the city. She knows how it looks. Men and women living there no longer own their bodies. They don’t even have money, since everything belongs to the temple. All people willing to pay the offering to Deviation are free to use any of them however they see fit. They were all genuine perverts... which meant she didn't fit there.

"Aside from this you should keep improving Lust Magic." I continued. "And try to find some pleasure in sex. Or at least consider it a mean to an end. Praying to Deviation, making offerings or finishing quests connected to her in any way might help."

She looked down and nodded. Only now I noticed how red she was. Uh.

"Let me guess. It's happening again?" She nodded. "Eh. At least you came to me while still being capable of thinking. Be so kind and use your hands this time." If she does this beneath the table we won't need to see each other's faces. Might make this less awkward.

I still closed my eyes when she disappeared beneath the table.

***

What awaited us after our return to the Tyrant's Hold was another welcoming feast (no idea how Kytar knew when we would return) and the information that he had finished unearthing one of the collapsed parts of the Hold.

"Yes, boss. I know that I should’ve waited for your return. It was an accident." He shrugged. "One pickaxe strike too much and the whole thing comes down. I barely avoided getting wounded. After nothing murderous came from the other side I finished clearing the tunnel." He looked at me with a bit of uneasiness written in his face. I guess he still wasn't sure if I was one of those crazy people that enjoyed punishing their slaves for no reason.

"I see. Well, be more careful next time." I was almost sure that one of the two collapsed tunnels left contained the stairs going down. I was curious what was waiting beneath us. Probably some tasty quests, terrible secrets, or even private magical anomalies/dungeons to explore.

He seemed relieved. Am I that scary?!

***

What Kytar unearthed must have been barracks or living quarters of whoever built this damn place.

There was a straight corridor with doors on both sides and a small... well, something between a miniature plaza and a slightly wider part of the corridor. There were ancient looking stone benches in the middle, facing the opposite sides of the tunnel, and what looked like two stone flower pots, their contents long gone.

Behind each door there was a small room (ten in total), with almost decayed furniture inside. The doors were decayed as well. I kicked one, and it broke—I hadn’t put any strength behind the kick.

Leria was the first one to pick her room. They didn't even wait for me to acknowledge that we would use this newly discovered part as living quarters. Everybody - besides Kytar - jumped at having their own private rooms.

Making the rooms habitable required a lot of money. Furniture wasn't cheap, and I wasn't fond of pillaging the current living area of everything that wasn't nailed to the walls. Also, if I wanted my followers to be happy (and I did) they had to be allowed to spend some money how they see fit, to give their rooms their own unique touches. Which meant even more ambries to be spent. Ugh.

The two doors in the walls of this quasi-plaza had different content.

One seemed to be an ancient and now defunct magical toilet. Primitive by Earth standards. Pretty much a platform with holes. The magic that suppressed the smell and dissolved the organic waste inside seemed to have run dry long ago. The mana crystals had to be replaced and enchanted. More money.

The second led to what we presumed to be a small kitchen. A little storage area, lots of mechanisms broken long ago that Kytar identified as high class magitek versions of the fridge, stove, kitchen sink, washing machine... and even a goddamn microwave. MORE. FUCKING. MONEY.

The corridor ended with what looked like collapsed stairs. According to Kytar they went both up and down.

"So... more barracks?" I said to him, ignoring the happy chatting about the details of future furnishing coming from behind.

"Barracks? I'm not so sure." He answered while scratching his head."They would have to be the most luxurious barracks I ever heard off." He had a point. The cult’s living quarters were a large hall with lines of beds and one wall covered with wardrobes. And the 'toilets' were a few buckets surrounded with curtains you then had to carry outside the Hold, pour out the content and then clean before returning them. When people got lazy for a while the smell got unbearable.

It wasn’t a problem until Hyperrealism Addon. After it happened I - and all the other players - began having the need to use the toilet from time to time. Thank you mister Robinson, that’s what I needed when being imprisoned in a video game. I dreaded to imagine what else he had in store for us.

Compared to cult quarters the place we found was high class apartments compared to the house in slums. I got even more curious about what this place once was.

"The thing is, I don't think I can fix the stairs." He looked at me apologetically. "We need more workers and materials to do it. Wood, stone... also it would be a good idea to have somebody with some knowledge about architecture to look at it if we don't want it to collapse one day. "

I nodded. That was what I expected. The stairs were messed up beyond belief. One big pile of debris. I couldn't imagine him fixing it alone.

"You want to have your own room?" I spoke. His eyes widened with shock.

"I... can? But I'm just a slave!" Sigh, not this shit again.

"Then I officially make you the chief of our labor force. As a part of the management you now should have your own, private quarters, shouldn’t you?"

"... But I'm your entire labor force, right?"

"Which only makes your management duties less stressful." I said with as much irony in my voice as I could. "Come on, don't make me insist."

"Ok then. I'll choose one for myself." He smiled and walked away. I guess he now likes the job even more.

I, at the same time, started hating myself. Because I considered buying more workers. Which will be both morally questionable... and even more painful for our budget.