The Gamer Chapter 1461 – 27 Days of Preparation 15 – A Mythical… (Patreon)

…Mace? Halberd? Bodysuit? Rapier?

Inkaryl, Rex Magnar, Illuminare, and Strimata were sprawled out on the ground. The villainous-looking mace stood, its six points buried in the grass. The halberd lay there, sometimes quivering impatiently. The bodysuit had been reduced to the glove it had originally been, lying on the table at the centre of the arrangement. The rapier was leaning against that same pedestal, happily singing. In the middle of the table, in the middle of the most powerful weapons this world knew, sat the flask with the mythical ichor. The seven corners of the heptagonal glass broke the light the prismatic fluid emitted into a circle crossed by seven lines.

The harem surrounded the display. “No,” Lydia stated, grabbing Strimata. The weapon protested repeatedly, until it was sheathed.

John did not argue with her. Much as he loved showering her with valuable gifts, she was still a foreign ruler. Giving her items perfect for her, to be displayed as gifts from him, was easily done when those items could have served no better purpose. This Mythical Ichor had three very good uses beyond her.

“Honestly, we should just leave this to Metra,” Rave decided. It were her, John, and Metra’s items still lying there.

John nodded thoughtfully once, then had the Creator Puppet move Inkaryl and Rex Magnar away from the table. The Mythical Ichor, he put for safekeeping in his inventory. Rave put Illuminare back on and then had it shift into its idle pocket dimension. As eager as he was to find out what a ‘Mythical’ item looked like, today was not the day.

Metra was resting in a bed inside the mansion. How long she would be out was anyone’s guess. John hoped for half a day, but with how much she had pushed herself, it was difficult to say certainly. This recovery was one of those things not governed by his system – which annoyed him. ‘Everything should have a clear number to it,’ he thought.

“So, what the fuck are we doing next?” Salamander asked.

“Taking a day off,” John announced immediately and rolled his shoulder. “I’ll get my Class levels, then we’re having a victory orgy, then we’re doing nothing tomorrow – and that’s an order.”

“Urgh, fine,” Salamander declared. She was severely underfought. Not underfucked, John had too many bodies at home for that slip-up to occur. A day of downtime would let him do a few things he had wanted to get sorted anyway. For the most part, he wanted to have a meeting with Magoi, then there was the matter of Nightingale and Nathalia, and lastly the progress on whatever the crafters in the harem had been cooking. The last two, he had been keeping general tabs on, but the Raid had taken much of his mental capacity. To dedicate a few hours to that and only that would be nice.

They moved indoors and John placed himself in one of the pillows they had just acquired. It was big enough for his entire body, gave exactly where he wanted it to give and remained firm exactly where he wanted it to be firm. It almost felt more like he was floating than sitting.

The maids were atypically inattentive to his desires. Physically they were fine, but mentally they were drained as most of them. Also, Aclysia had to eat the chunk of her body she had lost during combat. Rave near immediately crashed on the couch. Gnome, Siena, Undine and Sylph went incorporeal.

Because John was living the kind of life that went beyond wonderful, that still left him with a variety of women ready and willing to cuddle up to him – and more. With only one of himself in the room, the Ambassador Double returned to the Mandala Sphere and the Creator Puppet just standing in a corner, he was the centre of a lot of attention. Claire was as ready as ever to rub his shoulders. Salamander and Nightingale plopped on either side of him on the extra-cushioned couch. Spreading his arms out, he casually pressed the button to get rid of his clothes and just basked in the moment of total relaxation and victory, two gorgeous girls pressing their bodies against him.

Nathalia was wrapped up in some discussion with Scarlett regarding business talks, which left his cock standing at attention without any proactive haremette diving at it. A few were clearly considering it, but none of them were so needful to just go for it.

John’s gaze fell on Lorelei. The seer shuddered immediately and averted her face. Something about the way she bit her lower lip did not seem right to John. There was a lack of blush and of hip wiggling. Usually, the nun in her forced abstinence was more enticing in her subtle movements. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“N-nothing,” Lorelei stammered. “Just… excited about your victory.”

John was tempted to stand up, give her a firm hug, and be a little more intrusive in his question. The firmness of the massage Claire delivered suddenly intensified. That was enough to dissuade him from that path. “Any more visions lately?”

“No!” she answered, with an uncharacteristic amount of force and haste. “No…” she repeated, in the tone he knew her to typically use.

‘Right…’ John drily drawled in his mind. Whatever scheme Aclysia and Claire were pulling, it appeared that Lorelei was now in on it. By extension, that meant that this scheme was something most of the harem did not know about. He would have loved to analyse what exactly was going on by taking apart the visions that the maids did not want him to know more about. Unfortunately, Lorelei had been experiencing such a breadth of visions recently, as her power surged, that there was nothing much to go on about.

Each time this whole thing developed, John was left wondering if he should investigate and each time he decided not to. Claire alone making an unwise decision was possible, even if she did not intend to bring him harm. Aclysia and Lorelei? One was as loyal as a woman possibly could be and the other had literal foresight.

‘It’ll be fine,’ John thought and instead leaned into something a little more fun. “Lorelei, I’ll allow you to orgasm during the victory orgy.”

Immediately the seer straightened up, a lustful blush taking hold of her gorgeous features. The mere promise of release pushed her right up to the edge, it seemed like. It was already late in the 10th day of their grind, so she had been deprived of any orgasms for over a week. With her newfound Libido, that was more than a little teasing.

“Thank you, my most holy Master!” The seer clasped her hands together, her breasts jiggling under the nun outfit. “I will not forsake this sacred gift.”

John had not yet worked out how much he liked her getting actually worshippy with him when she got excessively horny. Obviously, he liked it, but it was also a tad odd. More important was that she liked it, so he would probably just get over it.

The promise of later was different from the demand of the now. John contemplated for a little bit and ultimately just let his erection turn into a semi. There was no need to get his dick wet at every given opportunity. Just sitting there and cuddling was nice enough. “The hardest choice is which hand I move,” he lamented, squeezing the slender sides of Salamander and Nightingale.

“I volunteer,” the harpy whispered in his ear, gripping his leg with her talons to compensate in her own way. John removed his hand after some additional hesitancy. On the other side, Salamander dragged his hand to her tits. While squeezing repeatedly, much to the red-skinned elemental’s amusement, John opened his character screen.

The next goal was to get Martial Artist and Negotiator to 10. Both, he had wanted to invest into anyway. One for the potential to get good at using Inkaryl, the other because he could use a diplomatic Class. A way to gamify contracts and other agreements would be most welcome. To get both to 10 was more of an investment than he would have liked, but it was going to be worth it.

‘Provided I go through that squire duty.’ John rolled his jaw, torn between weaselling his way out and just swallowing the bitter pill. There had to be some other countries that would give him knighthood at mere request. Titles were something nations exchanged for favours all the time. Famously, the wife of a Yugoslavian dictator had received an honorary doctor title from the UK as proof that she was smart, when she really did not qualify. Such and other cases were far from rare. One benevolent trade deal and he could… ‘…No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right,’ John resigned himself to his fate.

If any knight title was given to him, it had to be one held in Rex Germaniae or Romulus’ Greater Empire. Otherwise, it was worth nothing beyond the Quest. Having a title he had ‘bought’ could also do active harm to his reputation. He had to work for it at least a little bit for it to be recognized by the people that mattered.

Resigning himself to the humiliation of shining shoes and such things, John looked at his selection of Classes.

‘Do I go tit for tat or do I focus on one?’ John thought. ‘Let’s get a level in both right now and focus on Negotiator after. Better to have that Class as high as possible before the Divided Gates meeting.’


The claws had never really been an issue when using his Martial Arts, the two of them that mattered anyway. Still, he saw no reason to take the other two. Techniques were a frivolity to him, better to just have an extra hand to use what he already had.


Always Styled was extreme vanity, especially with how short he kept his hair. Art of the Deal and Poker Face were both interesting. Between the vagueness of GP rewards from written arrangements and the immediately useful benefits of Poker Face, he definitely wanted the latter.

Getting the Negotiator Class to the next level just took about 30 minutes of verbal fencing with the various haremettes in the room.


Art of the Deal was easily taken. The free Charisma was nice, but he wanted to see where the benefits on contracts would go.

“Claire, can you get me some parchment and one of our best fountain pens?” John requested.

“Affirmative,” Claire crooned and disappeared into one of the side rooms for long enough that John could be reminded why he was addicted to women. Why did Nightingale’s lips have to taste so wonderfully of calming lavender? More importantly, why did she have to coo so invitingly as he devoured her lips? “Here it is, Master.”

John almost jumped, having swiftly forgotten about the errand. Calming himself, he took the paper and the pen from his vampire maid. Although his calligraphy wasn’t the best in the harem, it was good enough to serve for a formal treaty. Quickly, he lined out what he wanted in writing. Then he waved Lydia to come over.

“I, Lydia Augusta the Fourth of House Hohenzollern, Empress in and Queen of Germany, hereby promise my womb be available for the seed of John Newman, the Gamer, President of Fusion, at any point and in any setting, no matter how public, for the purpose of impregnation,” she read out, the mildest bit of amusement swinging in her voice. “I apologize, but I cannot sign this without amendments.”

“Is that so?” John asked, but she was already adding additional clauses in her own handwriting. One could expect Lydia to have a hand more gorgeous than his, but by all rights her calligraphy was at about the same level when it came to its design. The queen could write in a way that was criminally beautiful, but typically chose to compromise that beauty with speed. “This attempt at impregnation must be executed with all of the Gamer’s factors at maximizing the success in place, to keep the number of repeated attempts to as close to 1 as possible. Further, such impregnation cannot be attempted before Eliana and Nathalia have both been confirmed pregnant, to honour previous arrangements,” John read out the additional parts. “Guess we’ll need some co-signers.”

“Actually,” Rave weighed in from her position on the couch, “would now be a good time to settle who gets to be in the first wave of who gets preggers?”

The question changed the mood in the room drastically. Individual conversations went silent as all those that had at least a minimal investment in his seed, which was all of them, turned their ears to his response. “No,” the Gamer denied, as he put his signature under the contract, “now would not be a good time. We should settle that before the wedding though.”

Obviously, all his haremettes couldn’t be allowed to get pregnant at the same time. Aside from the sheer havoc that 21 babies at the same time would wreak on the household, it would take an immense amount of military might from Fusion. There had to be a curated order to this. Aside from Eliana and Nathalia, who had made their claims early on, the question about who got to be in that first wave was an open one.

John, Lydia, Eliana and Nathalia all signed the contract, rewarding the Gamer with a total of 0 GP. ‘Okay, so it can’t just be anything I put into writing,’ John analysed. It was the last undistracted thought he’d have all evening.

Now so close and no longer distracted by business discussion, Nathalia got on her knees and wrapped her plump tits around his cock. “Enough of all of this experimenting. I heard a victory orgy was in order?” the dragoness asked, demandingly.

“Well, an orgy before the victory orgy. Can’t have that without Metra around,” John responded.

Nathalia didn’t care as long as she got railed.