RFC-ARC 5-Winter War-47 (Patreon)
Content
If I were any less shameless than I am, I’d be too embarrassed to stand in front of my team after they no doubt heard my wife railing me. Probably felt it too. Our bed is sturdy and I know the house suffered from the frame slamming into the walls. Saints, that woman is a beast…
Ah, no. Have to focus, at least for a bit. Team. Training.
I push down my dirty thoughts and ignore the heat between my legs. Marthe is the first to finish, standing up with a sigh. She glares at me but it’s different from her usual glare. Less hostility and more…envy?
“I hate you,” she says sharply.
“Oh? What is it this time?”
“You get to eat like this every day. There are people who’d kill for this. I’d kill you if it meant having this.”
“You’re welcome to try but if you fail, you’ll be paying for it with your body!”
“Lou!” Alana screeches.
“I meant in prison! A delicate girl will definitely suffer in a cold cell with only gruel to eat. Her body will suffer, won’t it?”
“That’s not what you meant,” she hisses through grit teeth.
I click my tongue at her. “You always think the worse of me, don’t you? A less secure woman might be offended. Don’t worry, I like vicious women too.” I wink at her. She makes a rude gesture with her hand and hurriedly swallows her remaining food.
“I can’t wait to punch you.”
I bat my eyes at her. “Is that what you knights call it?”
“Call wha—wait. You!”
“Rahhh!” Being the uncultured dog that he is, Arthur throws his plate to the ground once he finishes to catch our attention, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are we going to do this or what? Hurry up Will, the food won’t appreciate you trying to make love to it.”
“…quite.” William wipes his mouth with a napkin, like a civilized person, before standing up. “Lady Tome, thank you for a wonderful breakfast. Your servants’ talents are remarkable. If you ever decide to give up the life of a caster, you can make a fortune from these recipes. I would be happy to invest in such a venture.”
Do I need your money? “Thanks.” Sorry, I’ve got bigger plans than whoring Geneva for public consumption, in any way.
“Usual rules?” Arthur asked with a grin.
“…what rules?” I ask, not liking his expression.
“Sea rules of course. Winner takes all.”
“That’s a bit much for training, isn’t it?” And what do you mean winner takes all? Money? Our lives? Hm. I might agree to it if it’s the second one. Will the Hall try and punish me if he willingly offers me his life?
“That’s the point, landbrain. The fight don’t mean much if there’s nothing on the line. The loser has to hurt and the winner has to be roaring in victory. There has to be stakes.”
I don’t disagree with what he’s saying. Stakes are what makes a competition interesting. How many heroes would go on perilous quests if a princess didn’t await their return? More practically, how many casters would risk their lives fighting manabeasts if it didn’t mean fame and fortune? However, I’ve got the feeling that if I indulge him, I’ll regret it.
“…what kind of stakes were you thinking?”
“It doesn’t matter as long as the two parties agree. I’ve seen seamen wager drink and gold. Their ships. Their own asses. Their wives.” He laughed. “That last one might be doing you a favor, haha! From what we heard, she’s quite a lot to handle, bwahaha—fuck!”
His ducks the flame arrow that would have taken off his head and glares at me. I click my tongue. “She is a handful and you’ll never find out how much. As for wagers, you have nothing I want.”
“Sure about that? I knew a few whores like you in Graywatch. A woman that doesn’t like a man simply hasn’t found the right one—damn it!”
Impressively, he pulls up a wall of earth as he curses, blocking the half a dozen flame arrows aimed at him. Earth is strong against fire. Normally, earth spells are slow and mana intensiv but he’s skilled enough to defend against one of my fastest spells. I hate to admit it but the rude bastard is good. Really good.
Not good enough to stop me from knocking his teeth out.
“I think it makes more sense to say a woman who doesn’t like men has probably met you. If you want me to play your game, make me a serious offer.”
“Heh. Alright. Here’s an offer. If you win, I’ll let you pick one thing from my hoard.”
“Your what?”
“My hoard. The treasure every…fisherman collects sailing the seas. I’ve stumbled on all kinds of things sailing with my old man. Artifacts, previous jewelry, all kinds of things. It’s a good deal.”
Am I supposed to believe he simply stumbled across precious artifacts and precious jewels? Damn it, he’s trying to pass off stolen goods to me. Stolen goods I apparently don’t get to see before making this deal.
“In return—”
“If you mention anything having to do with your dick, I’m going to cut it off.”
“Hmph. Don’t get cocky. You’re not—”
A heavy impact interrupts him, drawing our attention to the billowing curtain covering the hole in our bedroom. Then down as Kierra stands. She’s wearing another dress, the top a soft brown leather vest with several layers of sheer white skirts. Almost as inappropriate for the oncoming winter as Marthe’s skirt but I’d be lying if I said I don’t appreciate the sight. My eyes are glued to her long, long legs until she’s standing before us.
“Lou~” Her arms go around my neck as she pulls me into her chest, nuzzling the top of my head affectionately. “Too bad you didn’t get your turn, hm?” she whispers.
My arms come up to hug her waist as I bury my face in her mountains, dipping my tongue into the valley between them. She chuckles and her hair brushes my cheek as she turns toward someone. “I couldn’t help hearing what you said. You’re very correct. A contest is nothing without stakes. But my wife has no need of whatever paltry treasures you can offer. If you try to goad her into wagering me, you’ll die.”
“Hah!” Arthur shouts. “She’s got the look, sure, but no summer girl is going to beat a gray man. I’ve filleted fish scarier than her. These arms aren’t just for show.”
“You think a little muscle can compete with her. How…cute.”
I grumble and use my teeth to show my dissatisfaction. Only to immediately regret it as my wife wantonly moans, holding me tighter. I can hear three heartbeats spike. Poor William. I’m not upset with him. After all, he’s a warm-blooded man. Who can blame him for reacting?
I’m not feeling nearly as generous towards the pig. Thinking of him ogling my wife makes me want to tear his eyes out. I might have already if I weren’t being held by Kierra. Never miss an opportunity to cuddle with my wife.
“And I wasn’t simply speaking of her. It’s utterly impossible but in the event I did take you to bed, I’d crush you.” Her fingers tickle the back of my neck and I know in my heart she’s about to do something terrible. “You aren’t man enough to handle me, boy.”
Ouch.