The Gamer Chapter 1034 – A Slice of Life (Patreon)

John and Rave were guiding Nathalia around the island on a simple tour. They were turning more heads than usual. Tall, gorgeous redheads were the centre of attention at almost any time. Tall, gorgeous, redheaded volcano goddesses that looked the part, clad in obsidian scales and looking around with incandescent eyes were practically impossible to not gawk at for at least a few seconds. Courtesy of Abyssals, and the Abyssals that inhabited the Guild Hall especially, being used to so much odd stuff happening, a few seconds is what it stayed at though.

Nathalia acted somewhat pleased by what she saw, which meant that she was really impressed with it in reality. Interpreting the mixture of aristocratic composure, pride and nymphomania correctly was sometimes hard, but John managed. The most important thing to remember was that the dragoness was incredibly direct in her actions. If she truly wanted to, she would just go ahead and do whatever was on her mind. Anything she said was honest by extension, because she had no need to lie to get what she wanted. All compliments could be taken at an amplified value because of that and every threat had to be taken seriously.

Pleasantly, Nathalia did not actually threaten anybody during their tour. The one time she did demand something, a takeout meal from a shop they passed, she was immediately obliged. It was on the tail-end of the tour.

“Your peasants have manners, at least,” Nathalia stated, while wolfing down the bucket of fried chicken.

“I don’t like that you call them peasants,” the Gamer told her.

“Why not?”

“It’s disrespectful, for one, and I’m not even sure whether it’s accurate,” he responded. “Pretty sure to be a peasant one has to be a member of a class in society that farms on behest of a lord or other form of aristocrat.”

“Hmm.” Nathalia tilted her head and then said, very slowly, “Attendant…?” She took a pause and then looked at John. “Did I say peasant again?”

“No, ya said attendant,” Rave responded swiftly. “Why aren’t ya sure what ya said yourself?”

“I said it in Draconic,” Nathalia told her. “My intent gets translated into your lesser language by Romulus’ spell, removing this kind of misunderstanding.”

“Sounds like ya should talk in it all the time,” Rave remarked.

“I will not,” Nathalia denied. “I care little about my ability to verbally communicate with the regular mortals, but I will not leave my ability to talk to my mate at the mercy of someone else. I will speak English and I will master it.”

“I love that,” John said, groping Nathalia’s butt as they walked back in the direction of their home.

“Worst case, ya can just scream ‘breed me’ all the time – works for Eliza,” the Gamer’s girlfriend joked.

Nathalia hummed and poured the remaining food down her throat. Seeing her swallow entire chunks of chicken without chewing them first was fascinating in a way. Once she was done, she mindlessly tossed the cardboard bucket into the landscape. She already knew about the slimes, but something told John she would have done that either way.

“A timely reminder of that topic – on the matter of breeding me, I seem to remember you deliberately made yourself infertile?”

“Correct,” John responded, happy that she was the one to get into that topic. He hadn’t been quite sure if she remembered and was similarly uncertain how she would react. “Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“I hate it,” Nathalia growled. “I haven’t felt an instinct to breed since ascending into the Abyssal plane and you deny me my immediate relief. I will, however, survive until the agreed time has come.”

“Which would be after tiger and I get hitched and also after Eliza gets her kid,” Rave added.

“If it must be that way.” Nathalia blew a bit of fire out of her nostrils.

“How would ya even have a kid?” Rave asked.

John picked that question up, being also curious, “Yeah, will you lay an egg or do you have to stay in your human form through the entire pregnancy…?”

“I do not know,” Nathalia gave them an answer that answered nothing, “and I do not care.”

“Seems like a pretty important thing to care abo-“ John started, only to be silenced by Nathalia facing him and pressing her lips on his mouth in one swift movement. Reactively, he responded to the kiss with all the skill he could muster. They stayed connected like this for about twenty seconds before Nathalia pulled back.

“Listen, my beloved mate: let it be your only worry to fill me with all of your virile seed at the ordained time. That our offspring will come to see the light of the world in a healthy state is my matter. You may worry again after she is born.”

“She?” John asked.

“Certainly, I will bear a daughter, if not only daughters,” Nathalia stated and straightened up, continuing their march back to the Palace. “Let the men of the world lose their heads over my descendants.”

‘We might actually have a problem if too many of her daughters take after her in looks and personality at the same time,’ the Gamer thought. ‘Three Nathalia’s in one area of the world would probably lead to the most real version of the ‘waifu wars’ that could ever come to pass.” His eyes got stuck on her light brown ass and how it jiggled with every step. ‘That is definitely worth going to war over.’ “Somewhat related to this, I need to ask what you think of becoming Fusion’s patron god.”

The dragoness looked up to the sky and then back down. “I have no definitive answer to that yet.”

“It would be to my benefit,” John told her. “Officialising your presence will serve to consolidate Fusion’s status as a rising global player. You will receive your own benefits, of course.”

“The Faith of your attendants would serve to nourish me,” Nathalia conceded the point willingly.

A patron god had two reasons to aid a guild. Most gods did it for the influence. Whether it was practical ownership of a guild or a high position in the governing apparatus of a guild, many gods craved something to do with their lives beyond moving from place to place like a vagabond. Reasons why they wanted influence varied, but influence was still what they wanted. The second was Faith. Regularly, gods only received what human thought, subconscious, and death generated, pertaining to their particular aspect of being. The patron god contract was different. It ensured that some of the Faith a person generated reached the divine being that protected their guild. It allowed some gods to accumulate power above their station and generally let gods be a bit more at ease about the thing they represented getting forgotten.

Nathalia didn’t have to worry about either. There was no realistic way that a majority of humans would stop thinking about volcanoes. Even if most people around the globe never saw one themselves, it just took one prominent eruption for the topic to be on everyone’s mind for a couple of hours and supply the nourishment of a hundred years. Still, though, it was nice to have something in-between those bursts that would ensure she didn’t drop in her power if she spent too much of her reserves.

“There is a bit more to that,” John told her. “My Guild Perks unlock a Building that would revive patron gods of Fusion, should they die on Fusion territory. It’s not a guaranteed method and I don’t know how long the revival would take, but it would certainly ease my mind somewhat.”

“I lived ten thousand years, I will live ten thousand more,” Nathalia dismissed the idea of her own mortality.

“You will live ten thousand more by my side – the insurance will cost you nothing,” John tried to convince her. “You don’t have to do any work in Fusion if you don’t want to. Your name will be good enough to raise it up and your love is good enough for me.”

“I agree to bind myself to you, my John. I am as of yet uncertain if I want to bind myself to your…” she paused and looked around, “…grand project of welfare for people you will never interact with. As I said before, I don’t care for matters of state. While their utility to create great works is acknowledged, I have never seen myself as a part of any such structure. Their rigidity seems to exist to allow mortals to approach a fraction of divine power.”

John sighed and let the topic go for the moment. “Will you at least consider it? For my sake?”

“I shall,” Nathalia assured him. “You might want to extend the same offer to Thana. The odd one has been listening in on our conversations since I entered our apartment.”

The Gamer groaned and shifted around unwillingly. “Couple of problems with that,” he said. “Putting aside her obvious denial of the idea, it’s really not a good look to make the goddess of genocide a patron.”

“If appearances are your issue, you shouldn’t pester me,” Nathalia said.

“Eh, Fusion is kinda like a volcano,” Rave chimed in again, walking alongside them with large steps, her hands folded behind her cat-eared head. “Ya know, source of steady devastation that burns down the old order that doesn’t get accustomed quickly enough and leaves behind fertile ground for new stuff to prop up.”

“Since when are you capable of saying smart things?” John asked.

“Ya keep leaving those stupid philosophy books around, I may have read one or two,” his girlfriend responded and looked around conspiratorially. “Ya two noticed we’re being followed?”

“I noticed Copernicus is not attached to you within regular distance,” Nathalia remarked.

“Oh, yeah, that, kinda weird side effect of our quarter-fusing state thingy. We can be distant at larger… distances.”

“You’re such a word smith,” John laughed.

“Ya love me for my ass, not my brain.”

“Okay, just let the press know you said that the next time someone calls me a misogynist.”

“And miss ya getting annoyed? Nah,” the Lightbearer stuck out her tongue. “Anyway, I meant the other cat.”

John glanced over his shoulder and caught Velka hiding behind a sign. She didn’t even do it well and didn’t care to either, as she met her owner’s gaze head on and without shame. Her beak opened, but she made no sound. Only after Nathalia turned around to look at her, did the Magryph turn tail and dart off.

“Yeah, that’s about what I figured would happen if we acknowledged her,” the Gamer sighed. “Her grasp on language is getting pretty good if she understood what emergency snack means.”

“What an unnecessarily touchy pet,” Nathalia remarked.

“She’s a bit on edge,” John defended Velka’s behaviour. “First we all vanish for a couple of days, then we come back and the pamperer-in-chief’s body is overtaken by someone decisively not nice to her.” While Thana had not done anything to harm Velka, the goddess of genocide had treated the birdcat poorly in a number of ways. This included, but was not limited to, shoving her away with her foot, slamming doors in front of her, and refusing to give her any treats. Velka was not amused and her warbling had, at one point, made Thana forcefully shut the Magryph’s beak by clenching it with her hand. Velka had fled the apartment after that. Thana had gotten a talking to. Same as with everything else, John was not certain what stuck with the goddess and what didn’t.

Nathalia stopped and suddenly started running. A couple seconds later, she returned with the birdcat dangling from her left. The Magryph sounded like a police siren, protesting being held by the scruff, and tried to get away when Nathalia put her down. Her path was blocked by a spike of black rock that shot out of the ground at the dragoness’ behest. Two other attempts were blocked by another stone wall and Nathalia’s tail, a limb made from segmented, volcanic glass.

“Stay,” the annoyed dragoness commanded. When Velka opened her wings in defiance, Nathalia’s own peeled out of the scales on her back. The glowing orange liquid between the obsidian skeleton dripped steadily, being made from some magical variety of lava. How that served as a sustainable membrane was one of many questions about how they could serve to allow a humanoid body to take flight.

Velka didn’t need to test those doubts, and obediently planted her behind on the ground. Her wings folded, her head lowered, she made the best puppy eyes she could at the threatening, tall lady.

“How would I best go about making your pet docile in my presence?” Nathalia asked.

“Just bribe her,” John recommended. “Give her something shiny.”

Velka perked up at the mention of her favourite word.

Nathalia shrugged; creating something worthy of a Magryph would have been an easy task in her mind. Molten rock streamed out between the gaps of her scales and gathered above her open palm. Once the sphere had reached the size of a tennis ball, she slowly closed her claws around it. After compression and magic was applied, a diamond-shaped piece of polished obsidian lay in her hand. Nathalia kneeled down and presented Velka with it.

The Magryph immediately tried to peck the small object out of Nathalia’s hand. All she caught was one of the fingers of the dragoness’ clenched fist. “I will not eat you and I will give you this gift,” the redhead slowly and clearly formulated her conditions. “In return, you will pay me the proper amount of veneration, pet Velka, or I will see to it that your entire hoard is liquefied.”

A shocked caw was the first reaction the Magryph had to this ultimatum. When Nathalia opened her hand again, Velka nevertheless took the bribe and then sat there. She tilted her head and looked at the goddess of volcanoes, whose wings and tail retreated back into her body.

“You may leave,” Nathalia allowed and then rolled her neck. “This tour has made me want… many things.”

“Pretty sure the store over there is empty,” Rave said and pointed at a building a couple of metres ahead. “Wanna give tiger a quick blowjob before we go the rest of the way?”

That Nathalia did.