MI180: Pent Up (Patreon)

Seeing Paul looking around himself with a slack-jawed expression on his face, Kishirika surprised him with a light punch to the gut as she shouted, "Tell me what they do already...!"

Coming back to his senses, Paul returned his attention to Kishirika before pausing as he realized that something was amiss. There were perpetually shifting red lines all over the emptied vault, even in the air itself, but there wasn't a single mark anywhere on Kishirika's body.

With Paul gawking at her, Kishirika took it upon herself to strike a pose as she asked, "What? Don't tell me they're just an upgraded version of your X-Ray Vision. Does my musculature fascinate you so~?"

Shaking his head, Paul reached up to massage his temples as he replied, "They're called Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. As the name suggests, they allow the user to visualize the death of a person or object in the form of red lines. So long as the user cuts along one of the lines, the target will be destroyed in an instant...well, that's assuming they work..."

Though her initial reaction was to blink several times in confusion, Kishirika eventually narrowed her eyes and remarked, "That's an oddly specific name and ability..."

Without going into the specifics, Paul explained, "I've seen them before, on a woman named Shiki Ryougi. I don't remember the exact sequence of events that led to her obtaining him, but I believe her family is descended from the original God of Death..."

Interpreting Paul's words to indicate that Ryougi hailed from the future, Kishirika adopted an uncharacteristically severe look as she muttered, "A descendent of the original God of Death...how troublesome..."

Reinforcing the idea that Ryougi was an actual person, Paul nodded his head and replied, "You can say that again. At her most powerful, Ryougi could even kill things like diseases and erase a person's existence with a single swing of her sword..."

Picking up his clothes, Paul fished around for his Vision before using it to summon his Black Blade. He needed to confirm whether or not his Mystic Eyes functioned similarly to Ryougi's, so he targetted one of the red lines floating through the air and swung his sword the moment it straightened out a bit.

Surprising both Paul and Kishirika, a sizeable chunk of the air appeared to fracture like glass the moment its Line of Death was severed. As it did, a powerful suction was generated as the air from the surroundings rushed in to fill the vacuum produced by the air's 'death.'

Though he managed to evade the resulting implosion, Paul was still left stupefied by the phenomenon he had caused. With just a casual, albeit very precise swing, he was able to generate a vacuum more than 5m in diameter...

Realizing what he had just done, Paul smacked his forehead and groaned, "Fuck my life..."

Hearing Paul's lamenting remark, Kishirika blinked back to awareness and asked, "What's wrong? I'm not sure what you were expecting, but this is a great success as far as I'm concerned. For eyes that only cost you around half your reserves, their effect is monstrous."

While he was relieved to hear he still had around half of his largely wasted Mana reserves, Paul could only manage an awkward smile as he revealed, "I'm not dissatisfied with my eyes...I'm feeling like a fucking idiot because my clothes and equipment were near the epicenter of that implosion..."

With her eyes opening to their full width, Kishirika immediately returned her attention to the devastation wrought by Paul's attack. Items such as his breastplate were largely unaffected, but most of the leather and fabric forming his equipment had been torn to ribbons.

Unable to contain herself, Kishirika burst out laughing with such intensity that she eventually fell over and rolled around on the floor. As for Paul, he did his best to recover what he could but ultimately accepted he would be returning to the throne room in his birthday suit.

At least Ganyu carried spare equipment for him in her pouch...

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Though she often commented on how annoying it was to train Paul, Atofe found herself lying atop her throne, her head and hair dangling where her legs were meant to be.

"I knew I should have gone with them..."

As there hadn't been any major conflicts since the end of the Laplace War, Atofe hadn't experienced a real challenge since the death of her husband and the ensuing departure of their son. She frequently left the fortress to settle disputes, but, more often than not, her presence alone was enough to cause both parties to capitulate. 

*thonk* *thonk* *thonk*

Hearing someone hammering at the entrance to her throne room, Atofe briefly considered ignoring them before rolling off her throne, bouncing upright, and sitting back down.

"Enter!"

Forcing open one of the heavy, Goseki Stone doors, Moore entered the throne room and approached within five meters of Atofe before taking a knee and reporting, "Our men have reported sightings of the North God entering Wind Port alongside five others."

"Hoooo~? It seems that brat has grown braver these past eighty years..."

Though Kishirika had informed Atofe of her grandson's impending arrival, the blue-skinned Demoness hadn't taken her seriously. Kalman III, also known as Aleksander Raibaku, had actively avoided the Demon Continent ever since Atofe kidnapped him during his first visit. She trained him even harder than Paul, so, once his ten-year 'confinement' was up, Aleksander, affectionately referred to as Alek by Atofe, never returned.

Pulling up her left leg, Atofe adopted a very unladylike posture as she leaned against the knuckles of her right hand and asked, "What did they tell the port officials their intentions were? He couldn't be coming here to try and defeat me, right?"

Raising his head, Moore's expression was his usual mask of grim stoicism as he replied, "According to the official report, they are here in pursuit of a bounty...10,000 Asura Gold Coins for the head of Paul Greyrat, also known as the King's Greatsword..."

"Huh? King's Greatsword? That brat...?"

Though Paul was becoming increasingly competent, Atofe felt he still had a ways to go before he could refer to himself as a King. He might be able to qualify as a North King with his Vision and regeneration, but a title such as 'King's Greatsword' was way too much for a middling Saint.

Sitting a little straighter, Atofe shook her head and muttered, "Humans and their politics..." before meeting Moore's gaze and stating, "Alek isn't the type to trouble himself with treasure and accumulating wealth. What crimes has Paul been accused of...?"

Shaking his head, Moore clarified, "It's an unlisted bounty. However, there are rumors circulating among the dockworkers that depict Paul Greyrat as a traitor conspiring to seize the throne of Asura for himself..."

Furrowing her brows, Atofe asked, "And when, exactly, did these rumors start?"

Lowering his head in affirmation of Atofe's suspicions, Moore replied, "As soon as the North God's Party entered port..."

"That idiot..."

Realizing that her grandson was likely being manipulated, Atofe reached up to massage her forehead. Alek's obsession with becoming a True Hero made him trusting to a fault. He helped everyone he came across, and so long as you could convince him someone was evil, he would ignore almost all evidence to the contrary.

Under normal circumstances, Atofe wouldn't interfere in her grandson's affairs. As a quarter Immortal, he had thousands of years to figure things out. However, if he were going to become some tool for corrupt humans to oppress Demonkind, Atofe would rather imprison him in the dungeons until his brain developed a few additional wrinkles...

Having made up her mind, Atofe rose to her feet, adopted a broad smile, and shouted, "I'm heading to Wind Port! You're in charge while I'm away, understood!?"

Bowing his head respectfully, Moore replied, "As you will." before bracing himself as Atofe flew over him like a meteor. They had an agreement with Wind Port that stated Atofe wasn't allowed to enter, but, much like Alek, it was impossible to reason with the blue-skinned Demoness once she had made up her mind. All Moore could do was make preparations to appease the Port's Governor. Fortunately, the abundance of gifts provided by Paul put them in a pretty good position to do so...

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Unaware that his fraternal grandmother was on her way to visit him, Alek was all smiles as a petite woman with dark brown hair and bronzed skin skillfully swayed her hips atop his own. Her face and body were covered in white runes, and there were tiny, branch-like horns protruding from her scalp, but Alek was utterly enchanted by the woman's supple thighs and lithe, athletic figure...

Sensing that Alek was nearing his limit, the dark-skinned shamaness bent forward and placed her hands around his neck. Then, while staring at him with her heterochromatic gold and pale green eyes, she began to squeeze as hard as she could.

Though he reached up to grab his youthful-looking lover's forearms, Alek didn't attempt to break free from her grip. He even went as far as holding his breath, a pleasant tingling pervading his body and mind as he skirted the borders between consciousness and oblivion.

As Alek's body arched and spasmed against his will, the shamaness did her best to stay atop him by squeezing her muscular thighs together. It was only after she felt an intense surge of warmth invade her body that she released her hold on Alek's neck, his body immediately going limp as she did so.

Despite experiencing something similar every time she and Alek engaged in carnality, the petite shamaness couldn't help asking, "Are you okay...?" with a sincerely concerned look on her face. She didn't like choking Alek, but it was sadly one of the only ways he could reach 'completion.'

Instead of responding with words, Alek just pat the shamaness's hand as he continued staring at the ceiling with a euphoric expression on his face. A lifetime of battle had left him numb to conventional pains and pleasure, so while he felt bad about pushing his young lover to choke him, Alek had no intention of asking her to stop.

Exhaling a faint sigh, the shamaness dismounted Alek's body and started cleaning herself. Alek was the type of man who was done the moment he 'finished,' asserting that it would dull his senses if he indulged himself too much. Unfortunately for the shamaness, also known as Savva, this meant she rarely came away from their entanglement satisfied...

Recovering from his fleeting pleasure, Alek rose to a seated position and said, "That was amazing..." with an affectionate smile on his face. Savva returned a smile of her own, but any perceptible individual would be able to tell her thoughts differed on the matter.

Oblivious to his young lover's growing exasperation, Alek maintained his naturally charming smile as he rose from the bed and stretched his lean and muscular body. His appearance was the kind that would cause even married women to fantasize, but after traveling with him for the past three months, Savva only spared a glance at Alek's impressive physique before exhaling another faint sigh...

Looking back at Savva over his shoulder, Alex's expression revealed a hint of concern as he asked, "What's wrong? Feeling tired...?"

Forcing a smile, Savva nodded her head and replied, "A little. However, Sir Alek need not feel concerned. I should recover within a few minutes."

Not questioning Savva's statement, Alek returned a nod before regaining his smile and continuing his stretching routine. He had learned from past experiences that he was vulnerable after having sex, so he always made sure to relieve the tension in his joints and get his blood pumping once he was finished. The last thing he needed was to be complacent now that he was in 'enemy' territory...

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