Evening fell upon the small village, and with it, a new and strange kind of normalcy. The squad of templars, now without their two most formidable leaders and with a humiliated captain, had broken camp and departed with an almost palpable haste, leaving behind a silence pregnant with unanswered questions. Inside the priest's modest house, the trio faced the harsh reality of their decision.
Ari entered the small living room, dragging two bundles of coarse, dark fabric. He dropped them on the table with a dull thud and a small cloud of dust.
"My wives," he announced with his best pious face, an expression he had perfected for harvest donations, "so that our new and sacred life together is believable to the prying eyes and sharp tongues of this town, I have procured the perfect attire for you."
Thalassa approached and touched the fabric with her fingertips, as if examining an alien artifact. "Is this... cheap wool?" she asked with a disdainful sneer. "What is it, exactly?"
"Nun's habits," Ari declared proudly. "It's the ideal disguise. No one questions a nun. They are the pinnacle of piety and modesty. They will hide your... most striking attributes... and give you an air of sanctity that will dispel any suspicion."
"A habit?" Thalassa repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "You expect me, a Demon Queen, Mistress of a living Dungeon, to dress like a sack of potatoes?"
Vespera, for her part, took one of the robes and rubbed it against her cheek. "I refuse!" she exclaimed, pushing it away as if it burned. "This is itchy! It's like it was woven from nettles and regret!"
"Exactly," Ari said, nodding wisely. "A holy sack of potatoes. And the itch, my dear Vespera, is simply a constant reminder of your new and humble devotion to the service of the Light... and your husband. Now, get dressed. We need to go to the market for food if you don't want to have the hard and suspiciously green cheese from my pantry for dinner."
After a considerable amount of complaining, dramatic sighs, and veiled threats from Thalassa, the two former templars put on the austere habits. The effect was... contradictory. The coarse, shapeless fabric, designed to hide the figure, failed spectacularly at its task. Instead of making them inconspicuous, the habits only served to accentuate their impossible silhouettes by contrast, creating a strangely provocative image of holiness and sin.
They went out into the village. It was a disaster.
Gazes followed them everywhere. The men of the village, who once looked at them with the fearful respect due their rank as templars, now watched them with a confusing mixture of reverence for their habits and a poorly concealed lust for the women beneath them.
The baker's son, a young man with more muscle than brains, stood gawking at Vespera. "By the Flame, Sister..." he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "With curves like those, you could make a man repent all his sins... and commit a few new ones."
Ari stopped in his tracks. The [Consort's Bond] transmitted a wave of Vespera's shame and anger to him, which in turn ignited a protective and irrational fury in his own chest.
"What did you say, you dough-brained scum?" Ari growled, taking a threatening step toward the young man. "Repeat that and I'll send you to meet your maker!"
"Ari, no!" Thalassa exclaimed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "Calm down! You're supposed to be a man of peace!"
"I am a man of peace, but I am also a husband! And it is my duty to defend my wives' honor!" he protested, trying to break free.
The scene repeated itself several times: a merchant who stared at Thalassa's neckline for too long, two farmers who made a lewd comment under their breath. Each time, Ari reacted with a possessive fury that surprised even himself, and each time, Thalassa or Vespera had to intervene to prevent a brawl in the middle of the town square. They returned home with their supplies and their nerves frayed.
That night, the tension in the small house was so thick you could cut it with a knife. An uncomfortable silence had settled between them. Thalassa sat rigidly in the only decent chair in the room, pretending to read a book of psalms with fierce concentration, but Ari could feel the waves of her irritation and latent jealousy through the bond. It was a strange sensation, like hearing muffled music through a wall.
Ari decided it was time to collect his debt. He approached Vespera, who was standing by the fireplace, nervously fidgeting with a fold of her habit.
"Vespera, my dear and devout wife..." he began in a low voice, his tone a mixture of softness and clear intent. "Do you remember our little... conversation... from this morning? Do you remember that a deal is a deal?"
Vespera blushed violently, her gaze shifting from Ari to Thalassa's rigid back. "I-I thought with all the drama... the move... maybe you had forgotten..." she stammered.
"A man of my... faith," Ari said, his gaze intensifying, "always keeps his promises. And he waits, with all the patience of a saint, for others to keep theirs."
Vespera swallowed hard. She looked at Thalassa, who was still pretending to read, and then at Ari, whose expression left no room for doubt. With a sigh that was a mixture of resignation, fear, and a hint of curiosity, she nodded. "A deal is a deal."
She concentrated, closing her eyes. Ari watched, fascinated, as energy enveloped her. The nun's habit dissolved into nothingness, and her body changed. Her leathery wings unfolded in the gloom, her horns became defined, and her voluptuous figure was once again clad in the crimson silk and leather strips of her succubus form. The transformation was silent, but the room seemed to warm by several degrees.
Ari gently guided her to sit on the threadbare rug in front of the fire. "Just a small evaluation," he whispered, his voice now a low, appreciative purr. "A taster must know his wine well to preach its virtues, don't you think?"
He knelt before her, his eyes shining with a mixture of lust and a genuine, almost scientific fascination. His hands, surprisingly steady, slid up to her breasts, which overflowed from the leather corset. He cupped them, weighing them.
"Incredible..." he murmured, more to himself than to her. "They're... firm, yet incredibly soft. A fascinating duality." His thumbs brushed against her nipples, which hardened instantly. He pinched one with expert gentleness, watching as the light pink color darkened, acquiring a faint, exotic lilac hue. "Fascinating... the pigmentation changes with stimulation. A marvel of demonic biology."
He gestured for her to turn around so he could admire the view from behind. With a delicacy that surprised her, he unfastened the leather bra, freeing her breasts completely. He began to play with them, his touch alternating between soft caresses and playful pinches.
I thought this would be disgusting... or scary... Vespera thought, her body trembling. But... it feels... good. It feels incredibly good. Every touch of his is... electric. It's not like I imagined in my lonely fantasies. It's... better.
Ari, sensing her surrender, leaned forward. His warm breath grazed the tip of her nipple before his mouth covered it completely. The suction was gentle at first, then firmer, causing Vespera to gasp aloud. On pure instinct, she brought a hand to the back of his neck, pressing his head more forcefully against her breast, demanding more.
Just as Vespera felt she was about to lose control, Ari pulled away, leaving her panting and frustrated, her nipple wet and glistening in the firelight.
"Easy now," he whispered, his voice husky. "That's just the first verse of tonight's sermon." He knew, from the mix of desire and panic he felt through the bond, that she was a virgin. He would content himself with that. For now.
CRACK!
The sound of a book snapping shut with the force of a hammer blow shattered the moment. Thalassa stood up from her chair, the book of psalms forgotten on the floor. Her face was a mask of icy fury.
"Are you finished with your... 'theological evaluation,' priest?" she asked, her voice so frigid the flames in the hearth seemed to shrink.
Ari, without letting go of Vespera, who was awkwardly covering her chest with her arms, turned to smile at Thalassa. "Almost, my Queen. Sister Vespera was showing... admirable and very promising devotion."
Thalassa ignored him, her blazing glare fixed on the single, small bed in the alcove off the main room. "Fine. The evaluation is over. Vespera, you sleep with me in the bed. Ari, you take the couch."
Ari stood up, his face a mask of offense. "Absolutely not! That's unacceptable! I am your husband! Your consort! It is my sacred duty to protect you from nightmares, evil spirits, and drafts! My presence in the bed is a blessing that will keep you safe and warm!"
Before Thalassa could protest with the violence she clearly wished to, he moved closer to her, his tone suddenly becoming softer, more intimate.
"And don't you worry, my jealous Demon Queen," he whispered, his voice low enough for only her to hear, but making sure Vespera could see the gesture. "As a good and devout husband, I will be sure to give you plenty of... 'spiritual support'... throughout the night." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. "I'll sleep holding you so you don't feel left out of my blessings."
The final scene of the night was a masterpiece of comedy and tension. The three of them were in the only bed in the house, one clearly not designed for three people, one of whom had wings. Ari was in the middle, true to his word, a smirk of pure bliss on his face. He was hugging a Thalassa who was as stiff as a board, her arms crossed over her chest and a murderous expression on her face. Vespera was on the other side, curled into a ball, desperately trying not to touch either of them and not knowing what to do with her enormous succubus wings.
Are you comfortable, my Queen? Ari sent to Thalassa telepathically, his tone full of mocking innocence. If you feel cold, you just have to tell me. I can generate a lot of body heat.
If your hand moves one inch lower than my waist, she replied mentally, her thought a shard of ice, you lose it. And then I will use that same hand to wipe that smirk off your face. End of transmission.
Ari smiled in the darkness and turned his head slightly.
And you, Vespera? he sent to the succubus. Are you comfortable, my dear? If you need more... mana... after your earlier exertion, you only need to ask. My transfer capacity is excellent at short distances.
Vespera choked back a small scream into her pillow, her entire body trembling with a mixture of shame and excitement.
Just as the tension was at its peak, a bright blue light illuminated the darkness in front of them, accompanied by a soft, pleasant notification sound.
[New Side Quest Activated!]
[Quest: "Nest Cleanup"]
[Description: Level 1 of the dungeon, "The Forgotten Labyrinth," still contains the biological remains and residual necrotic energy from previous intruders. This contamination is hindering the efficient generation of Dungeon Points and the expansion of new spawns. It's time to take out the trash! Clean up the mess!]
[Reward: +1000 DP, "Creation Catalog: Undead (Basic)" Unlocked, Guild Skill [Team Sense].]
Thalassa's frustration, jealousy, and sexual tension vanished in an instant. She sat bolt upright in bed, completely forgetting the situation. Her red eyes were shining, not with anger, but with the pure, all-consuming enthusiasm of a gamer who had just received her first quest.
"A clean-up quest!" she exclaimed, her mood shift so abrupt it left the other two speechless. "It's the first tutorial quest! The most classic one! Team, get up! We have work to do! We need to optimize DP generation!"
The honeymoon, or whatever that strange and tense situation had been, was over. Dungeon management had just begun.