Manassassin 2: LitRPG Harem Adventure, page 7
part #2 of Manassassin Series
her legs from his hips, and forced her way to her feet. Before he could respond, she slid the skirt down her thighs with the shirt-half dangling behind her before she stepped out, grabbed his hand, and guided his fingers between her muscular thighs.
Despite the coolness of her skin, her mound was quite warm, and his long finger slid between the folds with ease. He wasn’t certain how firm she liked it, so he withheld the pressure at first, opting to slide with ease as the lips quivered to his touch.
“Forget the foreplay,” she demanded, pulled at his neck, and tried to take him to the floor.
“Wait,” he muttered, held up a finger, and forced himself to remove his hand from her mound. As quickly as he could, he hurried to the forgotten scrolls, flipped to the inventory, and pressed three fingers on three squares. The bedrolls from the group appeared, and he stacked them atop one another before ushering her to lay upon them. “You deserve better than a cold, hard floor.”
“I’ll settle for something warm and hard,” she breathed, dove onto the bedrolls, and spread her legs wide for him.
Without hesitation, DeVante lay upon her, returning his lips to hers while his long, thick cock slid between her thighs. Each pass lubricated his skin, and he dared an attempt when her legs tightened around his hips. She spread around the head, and a groan escaped him when he realized she was nearly as tight as the smaller Goblins. She let out a whimper as the head slid within, calling for him to withdraw a moment before easing inside once more. Each attempt came easier than the previous, and soon the upper third of his head and shaft were within.
“Oh, gods,” she screamed, her legs tightening around him as her tight bottom rose from the floor.
Kisha came as her cries echoed off the walls. Her hips bucked against him, each thrust driving his cock deeper within, furthering her writhing. She’d barely relaxed when he slid two-thirds of the way within her, resulting in her fingertips digging into his chest, her head rolling back, and her mouth hung wide in a silent gasp. Slowly he slid out before daring to plunge further, and her dark eyes locked upon him as her mouth quivered.
“Are you alright?” he breathed before pulling out until only the head remained within her.
“No,” she cried, tightened her legs around him, and pulled him closer. “All of it. I want all of it.”
With a wry smile, he eased himself inside her once more, his cock spreading her wide as he pushed until every last inch of his base was inside her. There he held firm for a moment, her hands patting at his arms furiously as her mouth contorted into a mix of pleasure and pain. When her face eased, he pushed forward, his head pressing hard against her insides. From there it was a matter of measuring each thrust, using her mouth to gauge how hard, how fast, and how deep to plunge within her. Thrice more she came, the third time seeing her tighten around him so much that he couldn’t withhold another moment. The two cried out in shared ecstasy as he came inside her, followed by a brilliant flashing light that threatened to blind them both.
“What. . .what was that?” she asked between breaths. She wrapped her arms around his head as he buried his cheek between her breasts, his chest expanding wide as he sought to recover his wind. “I’ve heard hushed words of men who could move the stars and heavens, but. . .”
“Something I should have warned you about earlier,” he admitted, wondering how long he should wait before showing her the
companion scroll. “Look, not to put a damper on what just happened, but you should see this.”
While she slid beneath the cover of the bedroll, DeVante pulled out the companion scroll and held it out for her to read. Her black eyes flickered back and forth while she scanned the document, her eyes widening as she progressed.
“I don’t understand.”
“Figured as much,” he muttered and slid beneath the covers to sit with her. Her thigh was warm against his, far different from their previous encounters. As he leaned into her so they could both read, her webbed hand slid down his back, all the way to where his backside started to curve. The touch sent a shiver of energy up his spine, and he had to shift the cover to prevent announcing he was nearly prepped to go once more.
“It’s my racial ability, like how you can sense emotions in others, and play your song in their mind,” he started, hoping he’d chosen the best method to explain his ‘gift.’ “When I pair with someone. . .”
“I prefer the word ‘mate’,” she interrupted, her head leaning against his shoulder while her other hand slid over his tight stomach.
“Fine, mate,” he offered with a tight smile. “When that happens, we both gift one another with one of our abilities. That doesn’t mean we lose the ability, just. . .share it, I suppose.”
“Is this how I appear?” she asked, placing a finger on her tiny picture.
“I think you look lovely,” he offered with a quick kiss atop her head. “Now, let’s see. . .Water Elemental. Kisha has gained the ability from DeVante’s mana creature summoning ability. The more mana placed into the spell, the more powerful the creature. The
water elemental shall remain until vanquished, or dismissed. If dismissed, the caster may recall the elemental with no cost of mana.”
“That’s insane, by the very definition,” she cried out, leaning in closer to read again for herself. “It took me nearly a century to master the ability, and only thanks to the aid of the gauntlet. So, if that is what gift I received, then what did you acquire, might I ask?”
“Well, let’s see,” he mumbled and shifted the scrolls. “Uhm. . .”
Swim Form: at no cost of mana, the user will automatically grow gills and gain webbing between their fingers and toes. The Swim skill is now available, and all previous gains have been applied.
+9 Swimming!
9/100!
“That could have proved useful earlier,” he groaned and rolled up the scrolls. “Look, about earlier. . .”
“No, please don’t,” she whimpered and tightened her grip around him. “May we enjoy the moment just a bit longer? I haven’t mated in decades.”
DeVante was about to reply when he happened to shuffle the scrolls until the companion one was in front. His eyes went wide for a moment as the weight of reality slapped him across the head. In a flurry, he sprang from the bedroll, flipped to his inventory scroll, and started withdrawing his armor.
“What is it?” she asked, clinging the cover of the bedroll tightly against her breasts. “What has you so startled?”
“Look,” he started, already yanking his legs into his pants. “I wish we’d time to linger, cuddle, actually, but something just occurred to
me. I know your feelings upon the matter, but if Lahwanta tried to kill me, then. . .”
“Your friends are in danger,” she snapped, tossed the cover of the bedroll aside, and scrambled to where her clothes had been dropped.
“You believe me now?” he asked, stuffing his foot into his boot hastily.
“You believe they are in danger,” she replied, sliding the garment over her head, the fabric brushing over her perfect breasts before falling around her hips. “That is sufficient for me. Besides, at the very least, I long to have a discussion with Lahwanta.”
7
“How big is this Sunken Temple, anyway?” he grumbled as they turned down the third empty hallway.
“The Nagarian Temple can fit within one small corner of it,” she informed him, her thin legs struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.
“This was once the main temple for our kind, that is until the Blood Drow invasion.”
“Sounds like there’s a story coming,” he said, stopping at a corner to peek out his head.
Each hall was made of the same brownstone he’d seen from outside, but, without the water obscuring his vision, he realized it was a touch brighter within. Each hall was a perfect square, nearly ten feet in height and width. Despite having fallen into the sea, it was in remarkable condition, with almost no signs of age to be found.
“I’ve only read about the story, mind you,” she continued, scurrying along after he rounded the corner. “The historical documents claim that the Blood Drow invaded our island, resulting in a century-long war between our kind. We invaded them in return, which helped us to create maps of their island. It’s far larger than ours, with hundreds, if not thousands of structures. We outnumbered them in the early going, but their magic could best dozens of our warriors before one could manage to put a spear through their casters. Each day saw hundreds perish from our side only to. . .”
“Only to what?” he asked, bending down to examine a strange clump of seaweed in the corner of the hall. It was wet, like it’d only recently been brought inside. The way it was laid out looked like a nest of sort, and he shuddered to imagine the creature that could part from the sea to create a nest on land.
“. . .Blood Drow have a variety of spells at their disposal, partly due to their long lives,” she continued, leaning on the wall to catch her breath while he examined the nest. “Some managed to steal our mastery of the water. Others flung fire, could manipulate gravity, while others. . .well, the documents state there were many of their kind who dwelled in the dark arts.”
“Sounds like this story has a bad ending,” he grumbled, peeling back a cluster of seaweed to see what was beneath. There was a single item, like a smooth rock shaped like an egg. It was dark green in color, and the outside was leathery to the touch.
“Some were Necromancers,” she sighed, wrapping her arms over her chest as though the word could place a curse upon her. “They took to raising our dead, and turned our own people against us.”
“Damn,” he snapped and turned to give her a sympathetic look over his shoulder. “How did you win then?”
“We did not,” she sighed. “When the Necromancers took the temple. . .we gathered all of our forces, made several requests to Raseidon, and destroyed the ground beneath the temple. Most of the work was performed by a monstrous sea creature, the drawing of it still shivers my spine when I look upon it. Hideous thing, bigger than anything you can imagine.”
“Did that turn the tide of the battle?” he asked, closing his eyes when he realized what he just said. “No pun intended.”
“It caused a stalemate, not that the Blood Drow cared. We were bested, and they no longer deemed us a threat to their island. On occasion, one of the Elves will be found upon our shores. We’ve determined them to be scouts who report back to their masters of our numbers. Since we’ve never regained our forces, they’ve never bothered to attack.”
“If they’re diverse in magic, then why are they called Blood Drow?” he asked, picking up the egg to show it to her.
“Pray you never find out,” she sighed and took the egg from him.
“This egg is rotted. You can tell by the surface. It should be smooth, almost transparent, and a bit squishy. This is far too hard to be healthy.”
“But what laid it?” he asked, taking the egg back to drop it on the nest, now that he knew it wouldn’t break.
“Sea Sprites.”
“Sea Sprites?”
“Oh, yes,” she laughed, following his eyes as he stood. “They were our allies at one point, though that all ended with the war.
Small creatures, bit fish-like in their appearance. Strong warriors, but not the brightest. It takes a powerful mage just to communicate with them. They fell the hardest during the war, more so than the Naga. I’ve yet to see one for myself, though I’ve seen remains of their eggs when I venture into the sea. That’s how I know this one has rotted.”
“The nest is still wet though,” he pointed out. “So one of these Sea Sprites has been here recently.”
“That egg appears to be months past hatching, and it should be on the sea floor,” she sighed. “Though I’ve no answer for why it is still wet.”
“Do you have an answer as to why there are only hallways, and no rooms?” he asked, looking down the hall.
“To confuse invaders,” she pointed out. “If I’m remembering the drawings and maps correctly, the hall should narrow soon. It was designed that way to force invaders into single file. Beyond that should be a fortified area where a small battalion could stave off a small army.”
“And that’s the only way into the temple?” he asked, squinting his eyes to peer into the darkness ahead.
“Oh, there are dozens such entrances to the many buildings of the temple,” she laughed. “This isn’t even the largest structure within the abyss. There should be a tunnel nearby that links each structure to the next.”
“And where does the light come from?” he asked, looking around to find the source.
“Many of the stone blocks are enchanted. That is why we can see, yet cannot find the source. Oh, it seems the hall narrows up ahead.”
Just as the Siren noted, the hall narrowed as they approached.
By the time the walls leveled out, they were forced to walk in file, just as she’d predicted. This went on for another twenty feet before the room widened once more.
“How could they have lost?” he gasped, looking around the widened area.
Unlike the hall, this room was three stories tall, with dozens of arrow slits in the walls. Three slits high, and dozens wide. At the end was a fortified door, with eight rows of barricades that could serve as both cover for the Naga, and impede an army’s advancements. Above the double door was a balcony with six mounted launchers aiming down.
“The Blood Drow fought dirty,” she groaned. “Their
Necromancers would stay in the narrow hall behind the protection of their shield guards. When a warrior would fall, they would be raised, making them all the more difficult to kill. Also, they brought thousands of undead with them for the final battle, many of them the bodies of our allies.”
DeVante walked along the wall, his hand running against the trim of the arrow slits. Many had deep gouges in their frames, like
something with a strong sword tried to cut through and widen the hole. Others had marks of three, forcing a shudder as he imagined the creature with claws that could cut through stone. Halfway down the ‘kill room’, some of the arrow slits had crumbled, one particular hole expanded to where four arrow slits should have been.
“No offense, but I’m glad I wasn’t here to witness this battle,” he grumbled, shaking his head while tearing his hand away from the damaged wall.
The pair worked their way through the stone barricades with reinforced metal. Each short wall had long metal spikes sticking out from them, some of which were heavily bent, or broken off entirely.
Curiously he pressed the tip of his finger against the end of one, withdrawing instantly when it threatened to pierce his skin.
“Still sharp,” he groaned while checking to see if he’d broken the skin. “Hate to get shoved into one. Funny thing though, where are all the remains? If the battle was so big, and obviously the Blood Drow aren’t throwing parties in this place, then where are the skeletons? Broken weapons, armor?”
“It confounds me as well,” she whispered, daring a peek around the corner of the barricade. She let out a short gasp, clapped her webbed hand over her mouth, and quickly ducked behind the wall with her black eyes wide.
“What is it?” he asked, placing a hand on her arm to calm her.
Kisha wasn’t responding, so he took it upon himself to be the heroic male, stereotypically, and ducked his head around the barricade. What he saw was enough to make him want to huddle behind the barricade as well, and he certainly would have if his muscles had responded.
What he saw didn’t seem possible, despite what Kisha had just said about the Blood Drow Necromancers. A small body laid upon the ground, shaped like a fish with an enlarged head. The dull black eyes took up half the creature’s head, with a hanging appendage drooping from the top of the skull that held a gel sac. He’d seen drawings of such creatures, fish that remained in the deepest depths of the sea. The appendage was used as a glowing light that mesmerized its prey before the massive jaws filled with thin, sharp teeth to tear their victim to shreds. Unlike the drawings, however, this thing had short, narrow legs, and matching arms. The tail was finned, like a fish, with a torn fin just behind its eye. It lay on its side, seemingly staring at him with its black eye, but the state of its body said it hadn’t moved in quite some time. Gashes and tears littered its side, and a large chunk of its flesh was missing, exposing its tiny ribs. The hands curled into claws of three, the third missing halfway from the finger. It was hideous, to say the least, and DeVante found himself thankful it was dead.
“It’s dead,” he assured her as he lifted her to her feet. “What the hell is it though?”
“A Deadlight,” she whimpered, resisting his pull at first. “Though don’t consider it dead. Not with the curse that was placed upon this place by the Necromancers.”
