Manassassin 2: LitRPG Harem Adventure, page 5
part #2 of Manassassin Series
“I fear I’ve underdressed,” he chuckled, looking down at his simple clothing.
“I would offer you proper clothing, but I doubt we’ve any that would match your. . .physique,” she replied, offering him an embarrassed bow of her head.
“It’s fine. So, the courtyard?”
Once more she wrapped her hands around his arm, though having sleeves covering his skin stole the opportunity to feel her touch upon him. Together they returned to the entry tunnel, out to the main entryway, then circled behind the stairs to where another door led behind the temple.
“This is amazing,” he laughed, the starry night falling upon his yellow eyes.
“I rather thought you’d enjoy it,” she sighed, tightening her grip on his arm.
The courtyard, as it was called, was an extension of the marble floor out onto the river. Potted plants reached high above his head, lining the sides of the platform with short, stone benches between each.
In the center was a silver statue of the temple, the naked Naga reaching toward the heavens, just as the
building behind him. Water spouted from a tube between her outstretched palms and cascaded into the white stone basin beneath. Within the collected water was several fish, each white with a golden stripe down their tops.
The river itself reflected the light of the rising moon, offering a surrounding that glittered before them.
The pair walked in tandem to the end of the platform, the gentle water of the river offering ambient sound.
“Please, have a seat,” she requested, ushering with her webbed hand to the stone seat on the edge of the platform.
“Where I come from, it is customary for the woman to sit first,” he replied, though sat per her request.
Kisha smiled at him before lifting the back of her gown so the fabric wouldn’t draw too tight as she sat. Had she chosen a closer spot, their hips would have been touching, but the Siren opted for a convenient space just inches away. She turned toward him with her legs squeezed together and laid her hands upon her knees.
“And what shall we do now?” she asked, her black eyes gazing up at him as the smile widened on her crimson lips.
“You invited me, remember?” he teased, uncertain what to do with his hands. Folding his arms over his chest was the natural thing to do, but that posture seemed too defensive. On his knees made it appear as though he were ready to stand to leave at any moment, and laying them casually over his lap didn’t feel natural.
“Here,” she breathed, reached out, and pulled his hands to rest on the edge of her thigh. “You’re so uncomfortable right now. Does my presence trouble you so?”
“What? No, no,” he sighed, wondering what clues she was picking up on. “Just. . . a lot going on in my head right now.”
“I know, DeVante,” she breathed, her hand gently stroking the back of his. “I can feel it in you. So much pain, anger, frustration, and. . .a very strong sense of desire. You’ll forgive me if I’m being too familiar. It’s just. . .my kind can sense feelings in others, as I’ve stated. While I’ve heard rumors about Sha’Kurians, I’ve never felt one’s emotions before. Though they could just be rumors, I suppose.”
“Rumors have a nasty habit of being true sometimes,” he grumbled. “I’m only half-Sha’Kurian, by the way. My mother was human.”
“Was? Oh, oh. . .” she stammered, her mouth hanging wide. “You lost her recently. I’m so sorry.”
“It happens. Feels recent, but it was years ago, actually.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, I. . .” he started, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “When she died a few years back, I fled Salem. The human city didn’t care much for my father’s side of me. I happened upon this cursed village, frozen in time, and I fell to the curse as well. Didn’t seem like years had passed at the time, but.
. .they did.”
“But how did the spell become broken?” she asked, one of her hands turning over to slip within his.
“Ethryn, actually,” he groaned. “That foul witch. She offered me a quest to break the spell, which I did, obviously.”
“Oh, the villagers must have been most pleased with you!”
“Not really,” he chuckled, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest. “Seems they’d been in suspension for decades. Instead of simply breaking free from their curse, time caught up to them. I watched. . .”
He froze, the memory of the villagers, especially Gwen, and how they rapidly decayed before his eyes twisted his stomach into knots. He’d suppressed it over the days of his adventures, without giving it a proper moment until now.
“I feel that pain within you again,” she whimpered, tightening her grip on his hand. “Your burden is so heavy.”
“Well, enough about me,” he chuckled, turning his head to wipe away the stray tear. “Listen, let’s skip the small talk and all that. Maybe just get to the real reason you asked me out here tonight?”
“Oh well, as I said, I thought that. . .”
“Skip the small talk, Kisha.”
Her small head tilted slightly upon him speaking her name, and the smile returned once more. She nodded when he finished, sucked her lips into her mouth, and closed her eyes.
“I felt a connection with you, like some commonality existed between us,” she spat out in a flurry.
“How so?” he asked, gently laying his free hand over both of hers for support. He wasn’t certain why he was being so forward with her, but the desire to touch, to comfort, far exceeded the demands from his heritage.
“You’re an outsider, as you said,” she sighed, opening her eyes finally before offering a meek smile.
“Your Sha’Kurian side placed you at odds amongst the humans. I share this torment as well. While the High Priestess was kind enough to permit me to reside here. . .”
“The others look down upon you?” he asked, feeling where the conversation was heading.
“Correct. I just. . .I suppose I sought comfort as well with one who empathized with my situation. I mean nothing ill, of course, and I’m eternally grateful to be here, but. . .you have me rambling.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled. “Nothing at all.”
5
DeVante weighed Kisha’s request as he consumed his breakfast, which consisted of more fish and vegetables. This time, however, there was a hint of lemon in the meat, which made all the difference in the world. After Kisha summoned him through the orb, he met the others in the halls and waited for their escort.
“You sleep okay, Boss?” Jorja asked, a hint of accusation in her voice.
“Well enough, I suppose,” he muttered, too tired to dig into the reason behind her tone.
A quest has been offered!
Pair with Kisha!
Reward: unknown.
DeVante shook the words from his eyes before turning to give Osmorra a dirty stare. The Shaman had a habit of knowing when he desired to be with a newcomer, and often offered a quest for the mating. In the past, they’d spoken of it beforehand, and the quest was expected. This time, however, it was out of line, given he’d said nothing to her about such desires.
“Premature,” he mouthed to her without actually speaking.
“DeVante looks. . .stressed,” Osmorra replied, raising one of her thick brows while she spoke.
“We’ve a heavy task before us,” he grumbled, slipping a long strand of black hair over his pointed ear. “I suggest we focus.”
The group exchanged glances for a moment before the familiar rumble sounded from the end of the entry hall. Kisha was the first to enter, bringing a smile to his face, which quickly faded when he realized the timing wasn’t proper, and that she wasn’t alone.
Komorda, Lahwanta, and three other Naga entered the hall, each branding the familiar spear he’d seen the others carrying.
“Good morning to all,” Kisha announced, though her eyes were upon DeVante the entire time. “Where is the Tiefling? Did she fail to wake?”
“She uh. . .” he stammered, uncertain how to word his decision.
“She isn’t fit for such adventures.”
“Whyever for?”
“Well, because. . .”
“Because that bitch Ethryn messed up her mind,” Jorja interrupted and stepped between them. “Turned that poor Bard into her little mind puppet. We slapped a control collar on her though, so don’t worry about her. Rosette can’t do anything unless the boss orders her to.”
“How awful,” Kisha cried out, her mouth dropping open. “You should have spoken to this issue, DeVante. The High Priestess is well versed in such issues of the mind. With your permission, I will
have her brought before her to see if Theanna can remedy the problem.”
“Oh, yeah, that’d be great,” he stammered, stepping around the Hob. “Just give me a moment to fetch her.”
DeVante left the group and returned with the Tiefling, but found the hallway nearly empty save Kisha and a short, serpent-tailed Naga waiting for them. The latter looked more like Lahwanta than Theanna, given the color and patterns of her skin, but DeVante did his best not to stare.
“Where’d everyone go?” he asked, looking down the empty hall.
“They’re waiting for us at the beach,” Kisha replied. “Now, if you would, order the Tiefling to follow Sheon and do as she commands.”
“Oh, right. Rosette, follow. . .Sheon, and do as she commands.
Hopefully, we won’t need that collar much longer.”
“As you wish, Master.”
DeVante watched the pair depart, hoping he hadn’t just fallen to someone’s trickery. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he swore it’d be the last.
“You’ve an ill feeling,” Kisha pointed out, taking his hand to steer him away from watching the pair. “Your friend is in good hands, DeVante. I promise.”
“Telling me that requires trust,” he groaned, shaking his head when he realized how vulnerable he’d permitted himself to become to this Siren. “No offense, we’ve only just met, and I’ve made some poor choices with trust recently.”
The point wasn’t directly aimed at Ethryn, but Pryn as well. Pryn was his childhood friend, one of the few humans to look past his father’s heritage. They grew close over the years, their relationship sometimes swaying toward the romantic side of the equation.
However, it was his trust in Pryn that led to Nhuon’s death, and he couldn’t permit himself to hand out his trust too easily in the future.
Not when so many lives counted on his decision making.
“You’re in pain again,” she sighed. “The Hob?”
“Among other things,” he replied. “Look, this isn’t something I wish to keep discussing. Let’s just get on with this quest.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in a rush to be rid of my company,” she offered.
DeVante wasn’t certain if she teased, or if the statement was a concern. He kept his mouth shut, however, and permitted the Siren to escort him outside. Another long ride on the back of the wyrm, which he assumed to be the same as the one from yesterday, and they were on the beach with the others.
Jorja shot forward when the pair leaped off the wyrm, strolled right up to DeVante, and dove her head into his chest. With his leather armor equipped, her nose felt slightly cold against his skin, her face touching just above the top of his armor. He was about to ask if she was okay when he distinctly heard her sniff. Quickly his hands took her arms before he pushed her away, and he looked over every inch of her face, fearing she’d been crying. When no tears were to be found, his yellow eyes furrowed as his mind sought answers.
“Nothing,” she sighed, shot Kisha a dirty look, then hurried to join the rest of the party.
“What the devil?” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head.
“She was smelling you to see if my scent was upon your clothes,”
Kisha pointed out, keeping her voice from carrying.
“Siren racial benefits seem better than what I got,” he grumbled.
“My knowing has nothing to do with my heritage,” she chuckled, then nodded for them to join the others.
DeVante cocked his head to her response, noted the knowing smile she offered him, then followed as the Siren strode forward to join the group. Osmorra looked from Jorja to DeVante, which he picked up on instantly. If he’d a guess, he’d say he was in deep with the Hob.
“Now that all are finally here,” Komorda sighed, looking directly at DeVante when he emphasized, “we can set out. The Sunken Temple was abandoned ages ago, and lies hundreds of feet below the surface of the sea. For we Naga, the journey can be treacherous, as such depths place great pressure upon our bodies.
If that weren’t enough, now we’ll have to contend with four land walkers. We’ll be using air droplets, and each land walker will be accompanied by one of us.”
“Sorry,” Eezai called out, raising her dark green hand. “But won’t the pressure be too much for us. . land walkers? We’re not used to swimming deep, after all.”
“No one said the quest would be safe, did they?” Lahwanta grumbled before giving Komorda a thick-lipped smile.
“Very well,” he continued. “Everyone break into pairs and we’ll be underway.”
DeVante watched the group disperse, feeling it best to wait for last to pair up with someone. In truth, he figured Jorja would jump all
over Kisha, her attitude of late matching the color of her skin.
However, instead, the Hob was all over one of the muscular Naga men, running her green hand over his chiseled arm and speaking in hushed tones. She gave DeVante a glance through the corner of her eye, yet the wry smile remained. From her side, she withdrew the water-proof sack each were given for their clothes, and she set to work stripping down as though no one looked her way. The others followed suit, though only DeVante drew the attention from wandering eyes.
“Osmorra think DeVante have him hands full with that Hob,”
Osmorra sighed, her eyes wide while she stared at the water as she removed her clothes.
“You uh, certain you’re up for this?” he questioned, giving the water a glance. “I know you’ve got issues with water.”
“Osmorra issue is drowning, Osmorra have no issue with the water itself,” she groaned as Komorda stepped out in front of her.
DeVante watched as the Naga male reached into a small satchel hanging by his side. His hand returned a moment later with what looked like a handful of clear gelatin, like a jellyfish appears on the shore when it's out of the water. Osmorra’s eyes went wide as the Naga held it before her face, inching closer.
“This is how you’ll breathe, Land Walker,” he grumbled before slapping the clear bulb over her mouth. “I’ve heard the transition can be, jarring.”
Osmorra’s hands shot up, her fingers clawing at the clear blob as she turned to DeVante and gave him a wide-eyed, terrified stare.
Komorda chuckled at the sight, then stepped between them when DeVante shot forward to help her.
“Give her a moment, Sha’Kurian,” he sneered, cocking his head sideways to look at him. “Your little women don’t need you to save them, this time.”
DeVante was already reaching for the ebon blade when Kisha’s hand wrapped around his wrist, and the small Siren stepped between him and the male Naga.
“He is tactless, but correct,” she whispered before turning around to take Osmorra’s hand. “Relax, please. Just breathe normal. I know the sensation is strange, but permit it a moment. I promise all is well.”
After a few seconds, Osmorra’s eyes returned to normal, and her dark chest rose and fell as though she’d hadn’t a thick blob covering her mouth and nose. After another moment, her dark hand clasped over Kisha’s, and she gave the Siren a nod.
“Now, DeVante, it’s your turn.”
Kisha was reaching into her pouch, but Lahwanta shot between them, slapped a glob of clear gel over his mouth, and offered a satisfied look to the pair.
“This one is a weak swimmer,” Lahwanta announced, nodding to Kisha while staring at DeVante. “And you look heavy, so I’ll be taking you. However, Sha’Kurian, if you struggle down there? I’ll leave you for the fishes. I’m sorry, I can’t hear you? Are you ready to depart or not?”
DeVante fought the gel that oozed into his throat through his nose and mouth, choking on the liquid while staring wildly at the Naga female. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to drive his blade through that big mouth of hers, but Kisha already had her hands around his arm, coaxing him. After a few seconds, he found his breathing had returned, though calling it natural was a lie. The
smug smile on the Naga’s face still stirred his anger. He needed to prove a point, to show that she wasn’t the one in charge here.
Blink +1!
5/100!
