Barbarian Hentai Hero CH9 (Patreon)

His latest dose of UC red, blue, and green pills had changed him again. They were lit matches of power compared to the sparks of the common pills. After taking them, he felt his flesh, blood, and bones sing with power; he felt like anything was possible.

Vincent returned to his home in Little Oaks after leaving Hector to keep the men training. The entwined limbs between trees felt like a forceful stomp could snap them. Birds in the sky were within reach, and he wanted to soar. The barbarian was no longer bound to his quest, and his little horde needed growing time. Hector was a good loyal manager after liberal use of presence. He wanted to have some fun, but first, he had to take care of a mistake.

His home in Little Oaks was where he left it. The garden, once untouched, was in full bloom with long thorned rose bushes, tall wintry asparagus waving two stories, ears of corn listening on tall stalks, and a vast fig tree sagged with its sweet-smelling payload. Honeybees and wasps of all kinds moved quickly between them as the stretch of tree his treehouse was situated on stretched to accommodate the additions.

Vincent heard Cinder sing, and the plants squeezed in to listen. How could anyone go hungry in an elf city? Their connection to nature should make it impossible. While Druidesses were jokes, the average elf had a connection with nature that no human could match. They were born with a bond with the land that humans would have to work their entire lives to gain. It was the difference between being born a millionaire or poor. It was possible to work to the level an elf was born with. Still, a human couldn’t reasonably catch up unless the elves never improved.

“Honey, I’m home,” Vincent said.

His front door swung open, and his tavern wench continued singing, ignoring him. The home was overly warm, and one of the largest eggs he’s ever seen rested in a bed of straw. A small green halo hovered over it, radiating a wild feeling. He stared at it for a moment, then stared at the elf.

The barbarian pointed his finger at the spectacle before the wench raised an immaculate eyebrow.

“Did you cut your ears to blend in with humans?” Cinder asked in rapid elvish. The shortened vowels were cutting. “I can’t believe any elf would disrespect our history for an act. For the two of us, I ask you to leave this place to me and abandon us like you have our heritage.”

He was missing a lot of context.

“Message, what the fuck is going on?” Vincent asked

“Royal elves can only reproduce with royal elves due to their high meaning. You overpowered this requirement with life force alone, causing this poor wench princess distress. Congratulations, Vincent, it's an egg with royal blood. Now you know why elves are so stretchy; enjoy.” Message said.

His AI had been getting snarkier since he gave it attention. Maybe that was his mistake.

“I’m not an elf,” Vincent said.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a child with someone who hates themselves? It makes me believe you hate me, our proud nation. You have no manacles; tell me how to slip their leash.” Cinder demanded.

“You have an asshole.” Cinder raised an eyebrow. “Birds lay eggs, and they have a cloaca, but you’re a mammal with breasts. Tell me how that makes sense. I’ve been pounding those druidesses like cock sleeves, but they aren’t dropping eggs like an old turn-knob prize machine. How did no one tell me elves laid eggs?” Vincent asked.

“Oh, the conqueror doesn’t know the people he wishes to rule, poor you,” Cinder said.

“This is serious; I’m human; we have a child, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” Vincent said.

She moved quickly, raised her manacled hands overhead, and swung them down towards the egg. The barbarian stopped her arms before they passed her head. It was instinctual. Vincent stared at his hands, more surprised by his reaction than hers.

“See, you’ll be a great father; you already care more than mine,” Cinder said.

He pushed her gently into the easy chair behind her and sat on his own on the other side of the egg. Waves of lifeforce radiated from the egg rippling off his presence. Vincent was beginning to understand what Message meant by meaning. It wasn’t quite the same as presence or purpose.

“How long until it hatches?” Vincent asked.

“A year, it isn’t easy to lay a royal egg.” Cinder gently brushed the shell. “The chief will visit me soon looking for the other royal elf. We'll most likely be moved to his mansion to keep an eye on us. Once our son is weaned, I will be sent back to the tavern or executed to keep our number low. They will be raised to keep the nobles in power, never understanding their origins.” Cinder said.

It started raining outside, leaving them silent while the egg pulsed quietly.

“Those manacles hold your magic back, right? So let me take care of them.” Vincent said.

Vincent slowly retrieved a stylus and his tablet and worked on a project to sunder the manacles. It was always easier to destroy something than create or refine a facet of it. They spoke with one another and enjoyed each other’s company for three days as it rained outside.

He sent over what he could see from the enchantments on the manacles, and they were a nasty piece of work. Forcefully removing them would cause a sudden autoimmune disorder, slowly killing Cinder as her immune system shuts down. The app he planned would shut those enchantment systems down first while wearing away at the others. While it wouldn’t be fast, it would be thorough.

12 hours later, at sunset, he had finished his program and slowly wrote the script on her arms. Body painting was untried, and he had to wash away his work several times. Watching skin wars helped him along with the tutorial videos. There were only a few symbols calling upon files with the enchantments. All they were meant to do was cause the manacles holding her power back to fail. He was very specific and even ran the program through the helpful enchanter’s forum for advice. After telling the community he was trying to save the mother of his child, they were surprisingly helpful. The app he ended up with was much better than what he could have come up with alone.

…

Vincent asked Fall and Cinder to help him construct another floor for his home, and they took over the project. The lord’s daughter gave Cinder complicated looks while they worked to grow enchanted wood. While they worked, Vincent practiced purpose by setting and meeting small goals. That meant reading Elvish stories to the massive egg in a manger with a green halo. After reading a boring book about the greatness of elven society, Vincent got tired and started reading Conan the Cimmerian, translated into Elvish.

A heavy knock on his door set him off. The feeling of elvish magic like the last bastard he fought had snuck up on him. His presence had gotten a little stronger with practice making it easier to project what he thought his enemies should feel. Vincent was also getting better at sensing the differences in people in his presence.

He opened the door to a gibbering mess of an elf who wasn’t an assassin. As it turned out, a military group with an army of druidesses sharing information for the first time in hundreds of years was effective. Frank, the human head of elvish magic due to his ability to organize information or staff sergeant Frank if he wanted to be technical, shook at attention. He wore a glowing green tattoo that felt too much like Fall’s brother.

“I am here to report on new discoveries. We need you to sign off for their official implementation. At the moment, we believe only our force has access to these discoveries.” The man licked his lips. “You haven’t answered our messages in 24hrs; we were worried.”

“Message open my mailbox.”

“Take a seat and try to relax while I sign those forms.” Vincent moved through with the help of Message, completing going over contracts and orders in a flash. “Sorry about that. I was reading stories to my son.”

“That is an elf egg. Did you adopt it or steal it.” Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Not that there is anything wrong with stealing. I’m sure you would be a better father than any young elf could hope for.” Frank said.

“I don’t like repeating myself, but since I have inconvenienced the organization, I will do this once. This is my son. No, I am not an elf; breeding with non-humans becomes possible when you become as strong as I am.” Vincent said.

Frank froze, staring into space as if seeing something from the distant past.

“You’re a noble vampire’s wet dream. If a noble lord or worse, the vampire king found out about your power, they would force their daughters upon you and kill anyone you’ve met.” Frank said.

He manipulated his presence enough to make a concoction of guilt and what he believed was loyalty. It wasn’t perfect, but hopefully, he could get the man talking.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Vincent asked.

The elf sucked on his teeth, and his pointy ears blazed. “I’ve always wanted to have sex with a lamia.” That wasn’t what he expected. “I know some of them are man-eaters, and going into the desert is suicide, but ever since, I saw one caged in a lord’s menagerie. I was hooked.” Frank said.

Their talk was cut short. “Return to camp; we’ll see about your dreams another time. Go out the back.”

The man left while 50 hoplites dressed in royal guard regalia marched on his home, spilling over emotions of trepidation and betrayal; they guarded a haughty bastard filled with greed and fear. They approached down the twisted limb bridge on the second stratum, the door to his home. Vincent opened the door and stepped out. He held his club over his shoulder as elves with glowing green eyes formed up to guard a palanquin. Dressed in green robes and wearing a crown of gilded antlers, the chief stepped down with eyes full of magic.

Vincent stepped forward, slammed his club on the ground, and scraped a line through the wooden walkway. He turned on his go-pro but didn’t set any polls. Chips of wood and sawdust burst up as he made his line. All the while, limbs and vines rose behind him as Fall and Cinder worked.

“This line is your life,” Vincent said.

“How dare,” The elf’s boot stepped beyond the line, and Vincent swung his club.

An eruption of force shook the tree, and the elf’s torso blasted into bits. After the infusion of elf magic and Vincent’s own tweaks to his club, it had become a heavier deadlier weapon.

The guards shot forward. “Stop in the name of your chief.”

The chief stepped down from his palanquin and pointed a long finger at Vincent. “We are strangers, but I know of you, Vincent the warbler. You saved my daughter, raped her, and returned her to me. I would execute you where you stand if you weren’t the father of my grandchild.”

Vincent counted quickly with his hands. Thankfully he didn’t have sex with Mavis yet, because he was looking at 6 children, at least counting his druidesses. Were there giant eggs in his tent?

“You know I’m human,” Vincent said.

The chief had a good poker face but couldn’t hide the small halos at the tips of the horns on the chief’s crown. Vincent’s elf egg child had a single green halo.

“There are no other royal elves in my city, and my daughter swore she has lain with no other. Let me take the manacles off our lost royal and raise your children as brothers. I will make you a lord of your house and pardon your crimes.” The chief said.

The elf smiled with blazing green eyes and more magic than the assassin. He eyed Vincent’s club but let nothing through his mask. The chief was truly a politician.

It was difficult to feel like he was in charge when an elf dressed in robes of office wearing a crown of halos made declarations. But Vincent had a tool that was still ripe for abuse. Gas lighting was, as always, a useful tool.

“Very well, I will allow you to submit to me and give me power over your government. I accept your surrender.” Vincent said.

“You are truly a human and new to our language.” He raised a hand to halt his guards. “I am inviting you into our fold to become one of the lords.”

The chief took one step, then another, until he crossed the line. Vincent’s club swept through the air, and the chief spat a seed at the barbarian. One of the halos in the chief’s antlered crown winked out as the seed rapidly grew into a nest of squirming vines thicker than his thigh. Long hooked thorns grew as the seed flew through years of growth in moments. Three long heads made of vines poked out of the vines as the seed formed into a torso that quickly sprouted rooted legs. The vines stopped his blow shaking the two vast city trees and the limb bridge.

“Learn some humility, human, and behold the power of an artifact from the age of kings.”

Vincent dug his heels into the ground as the seed grew the snake heads of a hydra made from twisted vines and roots. It tried to lift him off the ground and failed as Vincent held on to his purpose and strained against the might of nature itself. His muscles and veins bulged under the stresses imposed by a manifestation of nature’s stalwart fury. Symbols of fatherhood and the defender of the home were powerful concepts seeped in purpose. Taking on the role of the protector accelerated the growth of his personal purpose.

Purpose +2

He felt the tiniest boost to his physical strength that climbed rapidly.

It turned, stopping the hydra from lifting him off the ground from impossible to barely feasible. He was surprised when he felt his meaning swell along with his boosted purpose. The club smashed the hydra once before, and it would do so again.

With a mighty throw, he forced the growing hydra off him. The vines quickly filled the hole his body had made as the beast stood tall. Pink flowers bloomed across the hydra’s massive green necks filling the air with an orange haze.

The barbarian was forced to hold his breath or risk breathing spores into his lungs to wreak havoc on his body. That was ok; he could hold his breath for a long time. He set his feet firm and stood up straight, blocking the hydra from his home. Its pit viper-shaped head lashed out while the cobra head in the center spat out a streak of venom.

Vincent deflected the bite with his club, letting the head slide off the bridge, and the venom hit him. He felt his skin immediately become irritated, and the monster chuckled. An elf royal guard charged at him, spear raised, only for one of the hydra heads to lash out and devour the poor bastard. He watched the elf flail as vines bound the man’s wrists and legs before pulling him down the monster’s throat. Screams echoed from the creature from a crushing sound coming from the monster’s main body.

Flakes of dead flesh fell off his face like a bad sunburn. The monster somehow managed to react quickly to keep up with Vincent, and he couldn’t see arrows working or any help coming. Purchasing a flamethrower might not work either. Mythologically speaking, the hydra’s blood should be flammable, but the hydra before him was also a manifestation of nature.

Purpose +3

That’s when it clicked; this was a man vs. nature battle. Meaning wasn’t something he was learned enough to take advantage of any power. He knew that, like with purpose, the meaning of events could be captured in weapons by replaying their historical or mythological actions. How he could accomplish that was anyone’s guess. He could take purpose for himself, borrowing from mythos to give his will greater significance. Using something as well-known and powerful as a Greek myth would vastly increase his purpose.

Vincent deflected the third head and watched for the poison, and dodged around the spray.

“Give up, human you have no chance against a single spell from my crown. There are 19 more; even if you defeat this one and the one after, what will you do about the third spell.” The chief said.

Vincent watched the monster lash out and made a mental note of its patterns. It was no different than a dragon battle in Elden ring. He shot forward, and Nightmare appeared beneath him. She gave him the height, reach, and momentum he needed to make a difference. She shot forward, horn glowing a majestic gold as one of the heads approached them from the side.

He jumped off, unsummoned her, and smashed the head. The neck went limp.

The barbarian didn’t sever it, preventing the hydra from growing two in its place. Instead, it remained a mangled, crushed mass of plant matter and poison. Vincent used Nightmare to escape the poison from the middle head and unsummoned Nightmare before it hit the other head, coming down on his 12. Vincent slammed his club down on the charging head.

Blood exploded from either side of the beast, and the bridge shook from the sudden arrest of momentum. He kicked the head off the bridge, letting it dangle limply, slowing the hydra’s main body down with dead weight.

He kept an eye out on the chief and saw one of the crown’s halos wink out. Greenlight erupted around the hydra, and its cobra head enlarged.

“Will you really kill this majestic creature? Its seed was the last; once you destroy it, there will be no more of its kind. Will you remove a useful tool from your children’s hands?”

He closed the distance and smashed his club into the monster’s main body crushing its chest. Pained, wheezed breaths escaped the hydra as the crown’s magic made the monster grow but failed to heal it. Magic needed to be programmed to do things like to heal or cause monsters to grow before their time. Given enough time, the hydra would recover, possibly growing more powerful from the loss.

Vincent raised a monster card, and a light enveloped the hydra. He felt his purpose conflicted with the hydras and, for the first time, found a difficult capture. Vincent felt like losing ground until he remembered the egg, and the rest was easier. The hydra appeared on his card.

“You’re terrible at this. Elves have lived in peace for too long.” Vincent said.

The chief raised a blue rose, and Vincent shot forward. He crossed the distance, and a royal guard member stabbed the chief in the back. To be sure, he drew his bow and fired 10 arrows rapidly while the chief fell to his knees. Each arrow found a home in the chief’s chest.

“I am betrayed by the ones who betrayed the last man who wore this crown. This is the thanks for your pardon, you treasonous wretches. No, I won’t die here.” Two other royal guard members approached the chief and stabbed him in the chest with their spears. Creeping vines stretched from the chief’s wounds as red blood turned green. Four of the crown’s halos winked out, leaving only 14.

The stem from the rose entered the king, and he started to change. 5 halos winked out, leaving only 9 more. One was enough to turn a seed into an infantile hydra. He tossed the rare green pill in his mouth. Extreme healing energies swept through him while more guards tried their luck at stabbing the chief.

Challenge 12

Complete: Defeat the Monster and Chief

Rewards

4 x packs of cards

1 x R Black Pill: R Black Pills Greatly increase Presence and Purpose. The first rare pill taken of a color grants a special ability.

Primer of Druid Magic

Complete: Prevent dragon scale outbreak from spreading.

Rewards

4 x packs of cards

1 x R White Pill: R White Pills Greatly Increase Meaning and Management. The first rare pill taken of a color grants a special ability.

Primer of Necro Magic

Vincent felt something slice through his chest and felt something hard sticking between his ribs. He plucked a blue flower petal sharp as glass and tough as steel. Vincent stared at the petal in his hand, then at the green roots that swarmed the chief’s body, and a green halo appeared above the crown. A royal guard charged Vincent as roots moved visibly under the man’s skin. The barbarian saw a bulge at the man’s crotch and swung his club.

Wham!

He laughed when he heard a crunch and knew he had shattered the elf’s pelvis. Being stretchy only counted for so much. Only the bulge continued to grow until a blue claw ripped free, covered in blue petal scales. Vincent glanced up to see the elf’s head had elongated more into something draconic, and the crown started merging with the man’s skull.

“I’m guessing this is what happens when you use magic without knowing what you’re doing,” Vincent said.

“This was always going to happen, the first outbreak of the dragon plague.” Message said.

“I don’t understand,” Vincent said.

“You let him toss around the equivalent of a nuclear bomb because you wanted to play tough guy. Now you have a plant dragon infestation. I hope you're happy. Move quickly, or they will start infecting the citizens. Once that happens, we will have to restart the timeline.” Message said.

“I figured as much, but who would have thought his guard was a holdback from the last regime. Don’t these guys normally kill off the competition?” Vincent said.

“You’re thinking communists. These guys are social democrats; they aren’t the same.” Message said.

“Sure; any idea how I can kill these dragons?” Vincent asked.

He smashed his club into one, and it barely flinched.

“Buy a damn scanner and see what we’re dealing with.” Message said.

He dropped 3000 Stylish points and slipped on a pair of cherry red glasses.

Blue Rose Drakes

PL:613

Type: Nature/Dragon/Artefact

Description: Nature has been twisted in a manifestation by the blue rose grown in the far north by noble vampires. They stored a tiny amount of their essence within the plant, which has evolved quickly thanks to the numerous uses of the crown of evolution. Its vampire nature has yet to awaken, limiting this creature's regeneration. Watch out for its petal breath, a beautiful sapphire display that will infect anyone hit by the attack. Lucky you, your regeneration removed the infection before it could take hold.

Now look at your own power level.

Vincent

PL: 178

Strength 32

Speed 40

Regeneration 51

Presence: 15

Management: 11

Purpose: 15 +5 (20)

Meaning: 11

Class: Barbarian

Description: Vincent is the kind of hedonistic asshole that ruins worlds and requires a hard kick to the head to mature. Watch him screw over himself and everyone around him because he can’t think ahead. It is advised that he flees from his current encounter with his family while he can, but his pride won’t let him go.

From what he could tell, his PL was just the addition of all his stats. Meaning some people could have some really lopsided stats.

He would have moved to his bow, but the blue rose drakes didn’t have eyes. One opened its mouth, and roots dug into the meat of its host, dragging to prey to its horrible maw.

He scanned the chief.

Blue Rose King

Status: Ego Destroyed – It no longer remembers its name, race, or family. While it has retained higher thought, it no longer has a sense of self and will need time to develop one.

PL: 940

Type: Nature/ Dragon/ Artefact

Description: An elected leader who counts the votes himself and never makes a bet he didn’t know the outcome. This man is a calculated planner who used the royal guard to get his grubby little elf hands on his city’s national treasure. He could have turned out worse as one of the last living elves with the knowledge to use the crown even remotely effectively. Nothing you can do enough damage to make a difference; he will feast on your bones and break you with draconic strength. His breath can be considered a crowd control weapon flee. The infectious results can kill populations.

Power levels were bullshit, and the chief had a weakness the other lacked. Vincent pulled back his bow, fired two quick shots, and climbed on a tall limb. The dragon screamed and shouted, blasting the air with blue petals at hurricane winds. Vincent jumped down lightly, grabbed one of the drakes by the tail, and found something the system had forgotten.

Everybody poops; if not, they're an android and must be destroyed. Vincent jammed his club down at the bottom of the drake’s tail at a shiny new asshole. The gut-slick club smashed home, and the drake screeched as several feet of the club found its new home. He moved to push past any organs in his way and felt something inside the monster tear as his club stopped at the back of the monster’s throat. The monster’s wiggling slowed to a stop, and Vincent raised his club.

He gripped his club with both hands, raising the weapon and the corpse together. Vincent fused dragon and club, making his new weapon a club dragon.

“I know where the asshole is on a dragon,” Vincent said.

He slammed his dragon club down on one of the other drakes crushing it under his new weapon. Vincent felt his muscles shred themselves from swinging two tons and loved it. His regeneration was already kicking in. One of the dragons used its breath attack, and Vincent hid behind his club.

Vincent raised his club and slammed it down when the dragon finished its useless attack.

The chief turned to him, and Vincent raised his club from the broken remains of the dragon. With every kill, he could feel an increase in purpose. His club dragon grew in meaning with its new addition of dragon parts.

The dragon shot forward and slashed Vincent from shoulder to groin with its claws. Five hooked claws, sharp as razors, tore into him like meat hooks mounted on a freight train. He felt some of his ribs break off and fall out of his body. So much adrenaline flowed through his veins he couldn’t feel a thing. Blood gushed from his wounds while he held his club overhead. It tasted the blood on its fingers with its back turned to him.

He swung his weapon. The dragon man hit the bridge floor, still blinded by the arrows. Serrated had been a good choice.

The barbarian’s blood spewed on the ground joining the mess of fallen blood. The difference was Vincent’s wounds were healing rapidly. He took a green pill earlier, and it was paying dividends.

Vincent lifted his club again and slammed it down.

The dragon struggled back to its feet.

Vincent lifted his club again and slammed it down.

6 hours later, he continued swinging his club. His arms burned despite the regeneration; he needed a break and food. The chief no longer moved, but he couldn’t be sure. One of the halos on the chief’s crown had lit back up.

He raised a monster card, and it shattered in his hand. The chief was still too strong for him to capture it despite being unconscious and beaten to an inch of its life.

Vincent received an email.

Dear Mr. Vincent, the Second Dawn would like to purchase this creature and formally invite you to participate in an important event. After witnessing your display on your Livestream, we believe you are the type we need. Your transportation and all event-related gear will be handled by our organization should you choose to accept.

Offered Price: 120,000 Stylish Points

Signed Brunhild of the Second Dawn

He had other monsters to use for materials, so Vincent hit yes and felt his bank account rapidly increase. The monster vanished, leaving him alone with a few dead Blue Rose Drakes to process materials. He thought they would make a fantastic set of armor. He stared at the dead elves, mutant half-dragons, and some were missing.

“I can’t believe any of what you just did worked. How did you know the drakes would even have assholes or that merging one with your club would give your weapon the purpose needed to damage dragons?” Message asked.

“It's instinct Message; some people have them, others don’t,” Vincent said.

“So, you made it up as you went along.” Message said.

“Yep,” Vincent said.

“I noticed I didn’t get the other rewards. What is that about?” Vincent asked.

“The outbreak has begun. You should card anyone you can and GTFO.” Message said.

Vincent nodded and opened 4 packs of cards.

20 x C Companion Cards

6 x C Monster Cards

4 x C Building Cards

3 x C Mount Cards

2 x UC Item Cards

1 x R Fusion Cards

He inspected his club dragon and saw a collection of green and blue veins running along his weapon. The wings and arms were folded like the dragon had become some kind of cocoon. The dragon’s tail seemed a little shorter too.

Vincent received a massive boost in purpose from his fight with the hydra and killing the chief. It felt good to win. Of course, the democracy could elect a new leader, and the lords were picking up lost magic to kill him. There were weaknesses he had that needed to be shored up.

He tucked his druid primer in his bag of holding and fully planned to give it a look. Having something that would give him some of the powers those elves had in the past would be useful. It would definitely help him use nature like a good man should. He couldn’t wait to turn the whole world into a smog-ridden hellscape.

The barbarian snorted at his own joke and sobered up.

This world has reached a critical point and has been declared unplayable for current participants. A Challenge will be issued, but the user is suggested to restart the timeline. This world has been declared forfeit.

Challenge 666 Timelimit 147days

Complete: Blue Dragon Apocolypse Bounty

Rewards

Dragon Master Card Packs x 1 per 10 dragon eggs crushed.

C White Pills x 1 per BR Drake Slain

UC White Pills x 1 per BR Uber Drake Slain

R White Pills x 1 per BR Dragon Slain

SR White Pills x 1 Per BR Great Dragon Slain

UR White Pills x 1 per BR Dragon Lords Slain

No timeline saves detected. All Barbarian Class March Province challenges are disabled until the bronze age timeline is restarted.

“I can save a point in time,” Vincent asked.

“Yes, when your purpose reaches 100, saving a point in a timeline becomes possible; until then, survive and use your cards.” Message said.

Vincent checked his purpose.

Purpose: 20

The barbarian returned and put the egg safely in a card before snagging Cinder and returning Fall. If he was going to do this again, he couldn’t do it alone. He needed a partner.

He purchased a card labeled obedience brand for 10,000 stylish points. For some reason, it was shaped like the succubus crotch tattoo from Hentai. It automatically registered whoever he fused the obedience brand with under his control. He fused it with the hydra. For 1000 Stylish points, he purchased an addon to see the loyalty of cards.

In effect, he was buying his way out of a complicated situation. Taming the hydra the old-fashioned way would take some time. The hydra’s loyalty after the brand was lover, which explained the shape of the brand. He rolled with it and tried to merge the crown with the hydra. He received a warning. His card wasn’t high-ranking enough to handle the new monster’s size and power. So, he merged it with the vampire he captured and the noble blood.

He purchased another addon to get a better description of the monster chimera he created.

Chimera Succubus

In World Rank: Ultra Rare to Legendary

System Rank: Rare to Super Rare

Paradox type Nature/Undead/Dragon/Succubus

Relationship: Lover

Loyalty: Obedient

Personality: Bubbly

Magic Potential: tier 3 to 10

PTC(Presence To Control): 250

MTC(Management To Control): 300

PTR(Purpose To Resist): 500

MTR(Meaning To Resist): 750

Description: Three ingredients were used to forge an almighty monster within the perfect space of card fusion. A new beast was created with the lineage of the fallen dragon hydra, a turned vampire, and noble blood from the line of the turned mutated by a familiar bond. Due to the hydra's weakened state, it could not put up much of a fight during the merge. Normally this would result in a blob of misshapen flesh, but first fusions are forced through. This being has yet to open its eyes but already loves the being known as Vincent.

Vincent held out the card for a happy flower girl standing in a field of pink flowers. The eyes of the hydra blinked on occasion beneath her feet. A statue of himself made from plucked flowers stood tall in the field. He could think with the girl in view, unlike when his purpose had weakened. The brand was supposed to make summons obedient, but the relationship status was trouble. A tail rose from the succubus dragon’s butt with a cute snake mouth at the end of it. It appeared on the screen showing soft, rippled vagina-like flesh within its toothless maw.

The barbarian looked at the buyer’s reviews for the obedience brand and froze. Don’t use it as a fusion material. Apparently, it causes an infusion of the demonic species succubus. That wasn’t in the description. It would suck if someone got the bright idea of invading his home. He needed a live-in bodyguard.

He summoned her. Blonde hair filled his vision as a naked teen swept him up in a hug. The first thing he noticed was her monstrous strength. Vincent could feel his bones creak under her grip. While that was what he wanted, it was still disconcerting.

“What is my mission, master?”

“I want you to be my friend,” Vincent said.

She saluted and licked her lips. “I want a name and sex.” She said.

“Thivratea because it’s a pun, and we’ll see,” Vincent said.

He didn’t know a safe way to have sex with a succubus. Thivratea jumped on his back and pressed her perky titties on him.

“I want to ride; piggyback rides are the best,” Thivratea said and gave him the lewdest face he’s ever seen and then licked his face. Her tongue stretched long and pointed before slurping his cheek.

Vincent glanced at her head and saw three halos stacked slightly higher and smaller than the last. A tiny crimson halo hovered ominously above the other three.

“Message, am I in trouble,” Vincent said.

“You are in so deep you’ll need a space elevator to get out.” Message said.

“Can I join this mental link, or do I need an invitation master?” Thivratea giggled.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “What are you doing?” Thivratea asked.

He went into his world app and prepared to return to the beginning of his time in Libra. After reviewing the app, he had to complete 3 system challenges before he could transport again. Vincent had to find Hector and the rest and put them in cards. He bought a few more packs until he had enough companion cards to take them and their mounts. After opening 20 packs, he had more than enough to do the job.

“I’m getting ready to go on a journey for loot.”

“Will you also get booty?” Thivratea asked.

He looked her up and down. Vincent’s stomach dropped, and an avalanche of lust crashed into him, and it was everything he could do to keep his mind from melting on the spot. She was more than beautiful she was sex, hunger, and green incarnate. She strolled up to him on tall languid legs bumping her body against him with an innocent expression on her face. She knew what she was doing.

“I think you have more than enough,” Vincent said.

She bypassed his purpose with such ease he understood how Mordred’s apprentice died to a succubus. Thivratea was a grand succubus with traits of other monsters.

He needed to get Windy from the chief’s mansion through a city literally eating itself. On the bright side, he would earn lots of pills.

“Guard my back. Can you handle that?” Vincent asked.