The Soul Engine Ch. 29 (Original Fantasy) (Patreon)

A/N: Avina has put her plan into motion. Mikael gets caught off guard!

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It’s a testament to how lost in his own thoughts he is that Mikael doesn’t see the attack coming. The day after his and Avina’s chat and the revelations regarding his new magic and longevity, Mikael is walking down one of the tower’s hallways when it happens. An arm reaches out of an open doorway, grabs him by the shoulder, and yanks him in with inhuman strength and speed.

Mikael grunts as he’s all but thrown into the room beyond, stumbling and managing to catch himself before he can fall flat on his face at least. Still, he silently chastises himself for letting his guard down, even as he straightens up and turns to face his attacker. To be fair, Mikael isn’t too worried… there are only four living people left in the Lord’s Tower. And only one of them is strong enough to manhandle him like that.

“Bula.”

Though he has to admit, he’s a LITTLE surprised when he actually lays eyes on the red haired half-orc. It is indeed Bula who stands before him, her nostrils flaring and her chin thrust out as she grunts roughly in his direction. Her blue eyes are as piercing as ever and she looks ready for a fight. But what she’s wearing… well, it’s a far cry from the all-white leotard she’d worn alongside the gorget that had contained her slave contract.

Her new attire is the literal definition of ‘plate’ bikini, Mikael can’t help but think. There’s a rustic feel to the metal, as if Bula found it buried in some crate deep in the tower’s depths and pulled it out of storage. Meanwhile, the half-orc’s tanned breasts are held within a chestplate that… is all chest and no plate. Her arms, shoulders, and lower legs are all covered by armor, but her center chest, her abdomen, and her toned, muscular thighs are all bared.

To be fair, Mikael has fought Bula. He knows she doesn’t really need armor. Her half-orc biology means that anything short of decapitation will heal within moments. Maybe that’s why her new armor has a gorget just like the old one, albeit one that’s far more rustic and doesn’t look nearly as obviously magical as the last.

Still…

“Where did you even find that, Bula?”

The half-orc blinks and then looks down at herself for a moment before grunting.

“This is my armor. The armor I wore when I first came to this city. The bastard wizard stuffed it in some corner and forgot about it. I found it.”

… Holy shit. She’d literally pulled it out of some crate buried in the tower’s depths, hadn’t she? Just like he’d thought. It explained why parts of it didn’t just look rustic, but actually rusted. And why it was so… jagged too. Truthfully though… it actually suited Bula quite well. Even if Mikael privately thought her crotch could use a little bit more coverage.

“Well… I’m happy for you, I suppose.”

“Fight me.”

Mikael blinks, brow furrowing as he realizes Bula has put herself between him and the door. More than that, he belatedly realizes that the room she’s all but tossed him into… it’s a large empty room perfect for fighting, isn’t it? Hang on a second… are those target dummies at the far end?

“Bula… I don’t want to fight you.”

Scoffing, Bula shakes her head.

“Yes you do. Fight me.”

She starts to stride forward, forcing Mikael to raise his hands with the palms out.

“I really don’t. You-!”

But then she’s upon him and she’s swinging, forcing him to duck under her fist.

“Bula!”

“Fight me! I wronged you, did I not? I held you down while Zadicus Quinn ruined your mind!”

Even as she spells out why he should want to fight her, she also continues to swing at him. Mikael ducks and dodges, dipping and weaving. The Soul Engine blazes as he ups his speed to match the half-orc’s inhuman alacrity.

“I don’t blame you for that, Bula. You were as much Zadicus’ victim as I was!”

“… You were not the only one. There were hundreds before you. Individuals summoned to this world to fight and die in the bastard lord’s arenas. I held them all while he forced his way into their minds.”

Mikael flinches at that, a spark of something hot igniting in his chest. Not the Soul Engine either. No, this was pure emotion. He could imagine it all too easily. So many other people in Mikael’s place. So many more innocent lives, ruined by Zadicus and Bula. And with no Avina to save them and bring them back, they’d all died in those sandy pits just like Mikael. And they’d stayed dead.

“Fight me!”

Bula continues to attack him and Mikael… Mikael snaps. With a roar, he catches the half-orc’s next punch in his palm, a meaty smack resounding through the training room. Of course, not to be deterred, Bula immediately throws her other fist as well. Mikael catches that one too and the half-orc goes for a kick. Mikael blocks it and then sweeps her legs out from under her, sending her sprawling across the floor.

But the half-orc just gets back up and launches herself at him again. This time, she doesn’t have to demand that he fight her. Mikael is already in the zone. No weapons but their bodies… and yet, for two people like them? Their bodies WERE the weapons. That said, there’s a difference between a dagger and a longsword. Or maybe the correct analogy for this was that there was a difference between a hand axe and a battle axe.

The red head might wield a battle axe herself, but in comparison to Mikael… she was the hand axe. They clash a few times, mostly because for a moment Mikael feels himself actually starting to have fun. Then, he realizes he’s having a little too much fun. More than that, he’s starting to get increasingly violent. Starting to hurt, rather than just stop. Bula heals from all of it with lightning speed, but that’s not the point. Mikael is starting to revel in the sound of her bones cracking under his fists. In the blood that seeps from her torn skin.

Of course, trying to stop and pull back only leads to Bula coming after him like a fucking dog chasing a bone. In the end, he’s forced to slam her into the floor of the training room and hold her there, letting out a roar in her face that makes her sharp, knife-like ears twitch as she finally stops.

“ENOUGH! Fucking… fucking enough, Bula. Before I go too far and do something I’ll regret to you.”

Bula grunts. Shifts under him. Then, she gives him a piercing look with those blue eyes of hers.

“You fear the memories Quinn put in your head.”

Straight from the mouth of babes. Mikael snorts derisively.

“No shit.”

“You should not.”

His incredulous look makes Bula shift some more under him, but the half-orc doesn’t back down even as her chest heaves up and down from the exertion they just shared in.

“You should not fear them. They do not control you. You control them. They are a tool, a weapon in your arsenal.”

Mikael barks out a laugh at that.

“Yeah? Sure doesn’t feel like it at times. They fuck with my head, Bula. Give me these impulses. These urges. How much longer can I resist them, huh? Avina tells me I’m fucking immortal. Isn’t it only a matter of time before I become the monster they want me to be?”

Bula’s lip curls upwards at that, the half-orc’s tusks grinding as she growls beneath him. Suddenly, she punches him in the kidney. Mikael grunts as she tries to turn the tables on him, tries with all her might to flip him off of her and regain her feet. The ensuing moments are filled with him overcoming her yet again, keeping her pinned in place.

And yet, when they’re done wrestling after a few seconds and Bula has once again given up as Mikael pins her down, this time with her arms above her head and held by the wrists, she looks… pleased rather than angry.

“You will not. You are strong.”

Mikael just gawks at her certainty. She sounds so… confident. But before he can respond, Bula wiggles under him in a very… different way.

“Fuck me.”

He chokes on his own spit at that. She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same way she’d said ‘fight me’. And seeing how she hadn’t taken no for an answer on that front, Mikael tenses up.

“E-Excuse me? Bula… I don’t know what… look, I’m already in some sort of relationship with Avina and Thayla. Maybe we haven’t put a name to it, but I can’t do anything without talking to them first.”

Unconcerned, Bula snorts.

“Who do you think sent me to you?”

Wait, what?

“The little one, Avina… she said you had rocks in your head. Stubborn.”

Rocks in his head? Was Bula taking liberties with whatever Avina had actually said? At the same time though, he didn’t think the half-orc would lie to him. She didn’t really seem all that capable of subterfuge.

“The golden one, the Knight… she was right when she said I owed you a debt. I just didn’t like that she said it. I wanted you to say it.”

Mikael blinks, thrown for another loop by THAT revelation.

“The dark and tiny one said you would never say it. That you would not force yourself upon me, despite it being your right through rite of conquest. She suggested I force the issue myself.”

Before Mikael can even start to wrap his head around that, Bula reaches out and grabs him by the hair, yanking him down into a tongue-filled, soul-searing kiss. Mikael grunts as their lips smash together for a moment… and then he’s surging forward, taking charge and dominating the kiss almost purely on instinct. A lustful, almost primal growl rips its way out of his throat and into Bula’s mouth as he holds her down, pinning her in place.

Truthfully? That sounded exactly like something Avina would say. Not in those exact words, but sending Bula to get his mind off of his melancholy? Yeah, he could definitely see that happening.

Bula suddenly bites down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The wound heals immediately of course, but still causes him to jerk back in surprise. She uses the moment to twist under him, and while he doesn’t let her fully escape, she does manage to get herself onto her front, still pinned beneath him as she lifts her ass up into his crotch, rubbing against him from below.

“Fuck me, Mikael. Take me. Claim me.”

“Bula… for fuck’s sake…”

Dragging her hands from above her head to behind her back, he locks them in place with one hand wrapped around both of her wrists. Bula grunts as he pulls back, letting her lift her hips higher into the air so that she’s on her knees and face before him. Her tanned, toned ass meanwhile, is clad only in a leather covering that can barely even be considered ‘panties’, really.

Grabbing hold of them, he tears them down over her hips and thighs, exposing her crotch in an instant. Then, he uses that same hand to free his cock from its confines. It seemed a little sudden. And with so little build up too. Even Thayla hadn’t been like this. But at the same time… well, it was Bula wasn’t it?

With a grunt, Mikael thrusts into the half-orc from behind. She arches her back, lifting her head back and letting out a lewd but bestial orcish cry as he fills her. Her insides are hot, wrapped around his member, and she clenches down hard on him as he drills deep into her. Meanwhile, Mikael’s eyes are drawn to her head, where her pointed ears are twitching… and her fiery red hair is up in a messy, wild high-top ponytail.

He hadn’t even realized it before. How her hairstyle had changed. He’d been too focused on the rest of her, honestly. But now, as he buries himself ball’s deep inside of the frisky half-orc, he finds himself focusing on her hair… on that ponytail.

With another growl, he reaches out and grabs hold of Bula’s hair by the base of her ponytail and gives it a harsh, sharp tug. Her responding howl echoes through the training room, but even more telling is the way she tightens up even harder around his pistoning prick. Grunting, Mikael doesn’t let up. In fact, he fucks Bula harder than he’s ever fucked anyone.

She can take it, he comes to realize. She can take all of his strength. All of his speed. All of his raw emotion. With a roar to answer her howls and screams, Mikael pounds into the half-orc from behind, holding her arms behind her back and yanking her head backwards by her ponytail. Rough, animalistic noises fill the training room as he plows the half-orc for who knows how long.

It’s incredibly easy to lose track of time, buried inside of Bula’s squeezing cunt. He rails her hard and fast with little concern for her pleasure or her health… but all signs point to that being precisely how Bula likes it. She milks him the entire time with her clenching inner walls. Her juices and fluids gush out of her, making the passage slicker and wetter as well. Until finally, with a hoarse groan, Mikael fills the half-orc. Her ears twitching all the while, Bula shudders and quivers her way through one last orgasm, before they both collapse forward, Mikael on top of her.

As the two of them catch their breath, Bula bucks beneath him and this time Mikael pulls back, letting her free. Instead of breaking out entirely though, Bula just turns back over, laying there under him and staring up at him with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

“You cannot go home. You cannot get back what you lost.”

Mikael stiffens, but Bula isn’t done.

“Make a new life here. Forge new memories. Carve out your place in the world, and make sure it knows you exist.”

He recognizes she’s trying to help, in her own blunt way. Mikael smiles softly, appreciating Bula’s efforts more than he would have expected. She means well… and truthfully, she has a point too. His old life might be over, but he’s still here. The old Mikael was gone… but then, life was about change. You were never going to be who you were ten years ago. Twenty years ago. Mikael had just had a couple decades of change forced into one single moment by that bastard Zadicus Quinn.

… He didn’t regret killing Zadicus. But Bula was right. Avina was right too. He couldn’t keep wallowing. Nor could he live in constant fear of dead men. It was like Bula had said. He was in control. They were not.

Letting out an explosive breath, Mikael opens his mouth to thank Bula, but before he can get the words out, the sudden sound of people running down the hall fills their ears, causing both Mikael and Bula to turn their heads.

A moment later and Thayla and Avina come rushing into the room. Startling, Mikael furrows his brow.

“What? What is it?!”

Mikael blinks as Avina has to stop to catch her breath, the least athletic of their little foursome holding up a finger in response as she gasps and gulps in air. Thayla gives her a concerned look for a moment before deciding that whatever had them sprinting all the way here was too important to wait. The Knight of the Rose looks decidedly pale as she clasps her hands together in front of her, almost in prayer.

“Sir Mikael. There’s an army coming over the horizon, marching on Alether.”

… Oh.

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A/N: Alas, the plot waits for no one in this fic, not even the smut! Just when things are starting to settle down too... 

What could this mean for our intrepid anti-heroes? Where could an army have come from so quickly?

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