The Gamer Chapter 1511 – Italian Beach Episode Finale – Just more relaxation (Patreon)

John inevitably found himself spit roasting Nightingale.

Stuck between his Creator Puppet and his true body, the harpy had her throat around one and her pussy around the other cock. Past the entrance area, the two holes were notably similar which was, like always, all the more reason to fuck her on both ends.

The lady of the night was the open object of surrounding envy. Glances were snuck at her all the time, if the haremettes were not openly staring. Simultaneously, everyone around continued their conversations as if nothing of note was happening. By harem standards, nothing was. Just one of their own getting two of her holes stuffed.

Soon enough, he had both ends filled, and left the harpy to relax in a lounger. Then, he walked up to Nia and Gnome. The two just happened to be the duo closest to him.

“You really think I should do nothing?”

“What can you do?” Nia responded, after her typical pause. Head tilted, she considered her own question. “You can attempt to aid, but what good will that truly do?”

“I don’t know… just feels wrong to leave him stranded… but that’s also the test, sort of?”

John gave up on trying to understand what they were talking about on context clues alone and asked, “What is this about?”

“We’re wondering if there’s a way to enable a contract with an elemental for James,” Gnome explained. “He has some potential but….”

John did not even need to contemplate the idea, he had done so many times before. “I don’t think James is a good fit for an elemental.”

“You don’t?” Nia asked.

“James came to my attention because of the way he acted during the Iron Domain volunteer attack,” John explained. “Since then he has repeatedly demonstrated that he is the kind of guy that fights best when he protects something with all of his might. Elementals aren’t a proper fit for someone like that.”

For better and for worse, contracts with the various spirits of the world were a burden on the summoner. This was evident in John himself. The constant battle he fought against the upkeep costs of his familiars was one of the defining features of his development path. It had inhibited his growth in personal firepower and other areas. This was all while John was blessed with a frankly absurd mana regeneration.

Contracting an elemental inevitably led to a loss of personal power. John liked to think it was an overall increase, sacrificing about 25% of one’s own power to gain a second person as a reliable ally that was about equal in power. In a fight of two 75% versus one 100%, the two typically had an advantage. It did not take a lot to bring that out of whack though. If the synergy between the two was bad or if the one had alternative means to boost themselves, one was quickly looking at a two 65% versus one 110% situation.

That was still 130% versus 110% power on paper, but video games had taught John a few lessons that were applicable to reality. In most games, having one homogenous entity that punched way harder was often better than a low number of medium power ones. This was always demonstrated the strongest in MOBAs. There was a reason why those games were virtually always built around a carry that tried to out scale everyone else. Once they got ahead enough, the power concentrated in them individually was often enough to survive and overcome the efforts of several enemy units.

Even in strategy games, having two weaker nations gang up on one more powerful one was far from a guaranteed success. Divide and conquer was very much in effect. A powerful nation could forsake one flank and take out the other enemy with concentrated firepower.

All that he listed there were good reasons to move alone. Of course, there were plenty to seek a group. More people meant more ground could be covered, more minds to tackle an issue with, more avenues for specialization, all of that.

James, to put it simply, was a martyr. Even if John promoted him to general, he would likely take to the field and probably die protecting his men one day. A summoner that kept taking the frontline blows was not taking proper advantage of his toolset. John deemed it best that the man keep focusing on his personal power, so he could push his body to the limit.

Explaining all of that to the duo in front of him gave him two very different reactions. Nia nodded, short and in agreement. Gnome wrung her hands. “But… maybe he could use the help in the frontline… a healer maybe?”

“The best way for James to utilize an elemental would be to fuse with it,” John explained. “I, for one, am not a fan of the practice.” His eyes moved to Lydia. The queen was drunk to a point that she was almost out of her typical stern stage and instead engaged in a constant, disapproving scowl. Lydia could be a happy drunk, but she was under a lot of stress these days. John would have to give her a massage when they found the time. An actual one, that ended with her so relaxed she fell asleep on the couch afterwards.

He loved her. Obviously, he loved her. Because of that, he loathed the idea of elemental fusion. If she had changed after he had fallen for her, if Rave had not managed the quarter fusion, it would have broken his heart. She would have still been the person he loved but also not. The difference could have been insurmountable.

John did not know if he would have the heart to let their children go through the same procedure. If Breeder was generous enough, they wouldn’t have to, because they would simply be born half elementals.

Gnome considered the argument for a little while longer, then relented with a sigh. As an elemental herself, she did have a natural bias towards getting her kin more contracts. Not for any nefarious reasons, it was the same instinct that made John offer his neighbour to bring in the groceries.

The conversation turned to little things from there, until John felt the touch of feathers on his back. Revitalized and cleaned up, Nightingale tried to get his attention. “A walk, my patriarch?” she requested lovingly.

John could hardly resist such an invitation. He quickly found his swimming trunks and put them on again, leaving his two other bodies to continue the conversation in his stead. Nightingale, meanwhile, gathered up Claire and Siena as well. A very specific combination of girls, vampire, midnight elemental, and goddess of the night. None harmonized more with this time of day.

They walked down to the beach, passing Delicia on the way. The smug maid was actually partaking in her servant duty for once, swiping sand off the veranda. The constant back and forth was scattering the hated grains onto the stone and someone had to make sure their safe haven was not compromised.

“Is she still swimming?” Claire asked, her green eyes tracking the patrolling form of Hailey.

“Again,” John corrected. “She stepped out for a little bit, then did some experimenting with her augmentation.” He pointed at a nearly invisible sheet of ice. The flash freeze of the calm water had left it a translucent sheet that maintained its size primarily due to its internal cold. Without sunlight, it would take a while to fully dissolve. “Then she went back to swimming.”

“One can find steady entertainment in simple acts,” Nightingale said, spreading her wings slightly.

Which did make John wonder about something. “Does flight bring you a specific kind of joy?” he asked. “It has somewhat worn off since I can do it casually these days, but flight does still activate the happy part of my brain.”

Nightingale settled her wings again. “I can not tell you how it compares to your emotions, although I believe we are similar in that regard. There is greater delight in flying fast than running.”

John hummed. The lack of mental connection between them made it impossible to compare their subjective experiences in detail. “I know that Sylph loves it, but Sylph is easily enthused,” he said. “Momo also loves flying, but that’s more the freedom it brings. Beatrice doesn’t care much.”

“Where is the bookworm anyhow?” Claire asked and looked first along the beach, then over her shoulder.

“Went to find a quiet corner half an hour ago,” John told her. “Probably reading something.”

“Typical,” Siena half-moaned. “Always off on her own, seeking little pleasures where she can.”

“Our serial masturbator is already asleep,” John joked.

“Do you just know where everyone is?” Claire asked, admiringly.

John shot her a little cocky smile. “Why would I let anyone out of my sight when you all are so lovable?”

Claire squeaked, then threw herself at him with the kind of intensity that required a degree of insanity. Always prepared, John caught her. The sand made for a good footing to deal with the force of the initial impact – and the many kisses that followed. “I love you, I love you, I loveyou, iloveyouiloveyouI-“ She stopped on her own. “Love you.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed.” John allowed himself the cheeky comment. Then Claire gave him the big eyes and he added, “I love you too.”

“Ehihihihiiii,” she cutely giggled and hung onto him. Her naked legs wiggled in the air. Her arms were tight around his neck. Far from the most comfortable way to carry someone, but John would deal with it.

They were down by the water now, walking along the shore. Eventually, Claire let go and Siena instead demanded to be carried. “This ground disagrees with me,” she stated simply.

“Seriously, we need to find a workaround for your heels, it is getting ridiculous,” John complained, even as he lifted her into a princess carry. The midnight elemental could walk on the sand, she just did not like to. She wasn’t heavy enough to sink in, despite that little weight being concentrated into two small and two tiny areas. Matter of fact, Siena weighed practically nothing. That she did not float was a matter of magical physics, not anything reasonable.

“Or you can conquer the world and outlaw grates,” Siena suggested, as if that was a reasonable course of action. Considering she was the part of his elementals that tried to goad him into ever greater ambition, she probably did think that.

“Grates are quite useful,” John pushed back.

“I find them grating,” Claire snuck in the pun. Everyone else groaned. “I will not be criticized by the ‘Boating Seaquence’ owner. I will not be criticized by the moaning whisperer. I will not be criticized by the woman that cannot say the word ‘thing’,” she trilled her retort.

“I can say ‘thing’,” Nightingale pushed back. “I prefer precise language.”

John chuckled, finding the individual speaking habits of his girls to be a bottomless rabbit hole of fascination. “Why did you want us to come out here?” he asked the harpy.

“A moment with us three feels appropriate, on such a beautiful night.” The response made John raise an eyebrow, to which Nightingale smiled knowingly. “Ought there be a greater reason, my patriarch?”

“I suppose any excuse is a good excuse to spend time with you,” John agreed.

Siena ran one of her claws over the curve of his left collarbone. “Are you not fortunate that you can be in so many places?”

“Obviously,” the Gamer responded. “I might look into a fourth body, just to cut down on sharing further. 1 for every 7 of you is acceptable, but 1 for every 5 would be better.”

“Bold of you to assume the harem will stay at its current size,” Claire half-sung. With big steps, she walked ahead of them. They left unusual trails in the sand, two pairs of human feet and the enormous bird-feet of the harpy.

“We will have to have a talk about Lu Zhi after breakfast,” Siena predicted. John had a feeling that the empress was not the potential addition Claire was on about, but that was, by his own fault, speculation.

John sighed, resigning himself to the consequences of flirting with what was, likely, the strongest woman on the planet. Perhaps not in terms of her personal power, although that was impossible for John to know, but certainly when it came to all facets of being Heavenly Jade Empress of the Mandate of Heaven combined. Who could rival her? Luna, certainly. Eui, maybe. Rave, gradually. Scarlett, economically. Lydia, likely.

It pleased John to no end that most of the world’s greatest women were tangled up with him. It pleased him, to a lesser degree, that the most powerful woman on the planet was, apparently, a tomboy.

‘Tomboy supremacy,’ John thought, then glanced over to Nightingale. ‘Then again, ladies are really nice.’ He squeezed Siena. ‘Really nice.’ His eyes glided over to Claire, who stopped five steps ahead to smile at him, her face half-lit by the silver light of the deep night. ‘Although I was ever weak to maids….’

The attempt to find a favourite type of woman that went further than ‘his’ was met with abject failure.

Those were the idle thoughts of walking at midnight with three ladies that belonged in it.