The Gamer Chapter 1607 – Raid and Adventures 3 – Annoyance [Ehtra POV] (Patreon)

Everything was so annoying.

Ehtra stood outside the house, trying to blend out the sounds that echoed from the inside. ‘By the gods, I have heard the slapping of flesh against flesh before, but do these creatures have to be so indecent?!’ she thought to herself, lips moving in a quiet prayer for reasonability. Her ears twitched when she picked up the prolonged orgasmic cry of the First of Wrath. Her sister, ever one to be stoically cheerful, when she wasn’t giving into her rage, was howling like a bitch in heat. A fact that matched her appearance these days.

Every second was filled with plapping sounds. Hips slammed against light brown flesh. She could see it before her mind’s eye. Ehtra had been required to stand guard over many a fat, paranoid bastard who couldn’t even be alone with whores. Except that the man ploughing Metra at the moment was everything but fat. He was delightfully lean, tall and…

‘Fuck, why are they so LOUD?!’ Ehtra complained in her mind. ‘It’s like a constant cacophony of indulgence. Can’t they be quieter?!’ Eyes closed, lips stretched in a sneer, the First of Hatred repeatedly tapped her heel on the ground and tried her best to ignore the little tinges of stimulation she felt from the motion of her thigh adjacent to her sex. ‘Who the hell needs to hear all of this? Why am I listening to this?!’

Ehtra pushed herself off the wall and began walking. Her legs felt annoyingly weak. Just one of the many reasons why she always ignored these desires. It had been so easy in the past. People, veiled in lies, always afraid, always seeking a way to trust her, all of them loathsomely unattractive for how weak they were.

He wasn’t weak. He was anything but. He had tamed Metra, for crying out loud. He had dragged her to a state five times more powerful than what she was before and that wasn’t even including those wings he had granted her.

Wings that now stretched. They felt as familiar as her fingertips and she certainly had more control over them than all this unnecessary squish all over her curves. Breasts and thighs swayed when she leapt up into the air, the already large wings growing further to beat the air with enough force to provide the slightest bit of reasonability for her flight.

Of course, it did not actually make sense, but Ehtra cared little about the shackles of regular physics. She had been witness to the greatest achievements of early enchanting and elemental manipulation. She, herself, was such an achievement.

The moans and cries eventually stopped reaching her ears, giving her a moment of silence. Circling far above, she let her eyes glide over the landscape. It was so strangely overdesigned, so dense in landmarks that were yet entirely vapid. Beyond where sight reached from where they had spawned in, she spotted more of the formerly removed concrete buildings.

With nothing better to do, Ehtra pulled in her wings and went into a shallow dive. The air broke against her face. The strands of her long, black skirt fluttered. The feathers whispered softly, then whistled. Deliberately, Ehtra had hardened the Astrotium plumage into a sharper form. She enjoyed the foreboding sound of the wind streaming through the thousands of little blades.

At the very last moment, she pulled her legs forwards and opened her wings. Her impact was harsh enough to flatten the nearby grass and loosen even moderately sized rocks. Ehtra allowed herself the rare smile, straightening up after the force had left her body. Soft landings were for doves.

Ehtra’s smile died as soon as she had taken three steps. Three hip-swaying steps, as she could not help but notice. The few lessons she had received from Aclysia thus far were sticking, despite the First of Hatred’s outward ambivalence towards them. The proper way to walk, the right order of presentation, tone when it came to the Master and his enemies, cooking, cleaning, all of those things were swimming around in her mind.

Did she mind? Not necessarily. It was annoying her, but what intrusive thought was not annoying? This information on the proper conduct of her station in this contract was fundamentally neutral. Whether she chose to act on it was on her. The same went for that persistent tingling between her legs.

The First of Hatred stepped into the concrete building. It was just a hull. A set of barren grey walls, as easily punched through as any other kind of concrete. Ehtra dusted off her hands and turned corner to corner. She stepped into a dark room.

And froze.

In the corner of the empty building, where any sign of wallpaper had long since been removed, lay a blotch of wet black. The mass glistened and expanded, roots and stalks stretching over the concrete. Maws opened, chaotically aligned and sized teeth sprouting from raw lips. The maws closed and opened again as eyes, the sclera the spongy texture of dense mycelium.

The Lorylim’s laugh echoed in the corner of her mind, a male voice underlying a thousand screams, all drumming to the sing-song of HER. “You’ve failed me as a vessel, daughter.”

Ehtra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Control yourself,’ she chastised, forming the words with her lips. When she stared at the corner next, it was just blackness. A moment later, the blackness contained the tip of her sword, rammed halfway to the hilt into the concrete. Ehtra could feel the cold of the material around the extension of her being, a dulled and yet present sensation, like touching something with leather gloves.

The visions had become less frequent by the day. Annoying remnants of trauma, only spurring on the thirst for vengeance within her. How she would delight in carving up the fallen Mother Chaos and her new brood.

Ehtra left her weapon there, it would find her again when she needed it. For now, she stepped back into one of the rooms where the glassless windows let in some of the pale midnight light. She embraced her issue, because she was a Metracana. Ancient weapons like her did not succumb to their difficulties. She would either reforge herself stronger or break herself trying. Anything else was beneath her.

Which turned her thoughts back to the house and the opportunities lying within it that offered her to reinvent herself to… fill this gaping void where her belief in Tiamat had been. Where it still, in one way or another, resided. Ehtra did not deem herself removed from her old faith yet, just incapable of carrying it forwards. It was all a mess, a mess she spent hours every day circling her thoughts around.

By comparison, the annoying images of her Master’s naked form and the excited, loving gazes of his harem were almost welcome. Ehtra had been around enough harems to know the different types. The most disgusting harems were those filled to the brim with slave girls taken from conquests. Typically members of such ‘groups’ did not even speak each other’s language, they existed solely to sate the warlord’s desire for exotic flesh. Above that by some margin was the harem of gifted whores (and nicer words for whores). Women attracted solely by money, that remained there for as long as it flowed. Practically the same was the harem of rulers that Ehtra had been used to. Filled to the brim with women that wanted to be close to power and used the easiest way available to get there.

Ehtra knew the empty gazes of the broken sex slave, the feigned patience of the whore, and the dizzy giggle of the harem girl as drunk on power as the men they coaxed into spending it on getting them luxuries. There was nothing of any of that here, only genuine love and appreciation – and very loud and apparently great sex.

The tingle remained. Ehtra did not deny what it was. She was horny. It was a feeling she had known here and there for the entirety of her life but always just ignored. Yet, in recent days, starting with the way he had just… asserted himself during their first meeting, the First of Hatred found herself in this state repeatedly.

‘So annoying,’ she thought, this time about herself. There was no use in blaming him for her feeling this way, there was plenty else he could be blamed for. Her sudden discovery that she had a type and that this type was quite shallow was purely an internal issue. Apparently, she liked her men rich, powerful, paranoid enough to not let any harm come to those around them and yet trusting enough not to be absurdly possessive about it. Apparently, she liked them good looking and great at sex. Apparently, she liked being given a choice with wise and self-certain advice attached to it.

Apparently, she just had been needing someone to say that it was okay to be herself.

‘How pathetic am I?’ Ehtra thought and leaned against the concrete wall. One foot flat against the wall, the other against the ground, arms crossed, green eyes sneering at nothing in particular. The stance in which she had guarded more royal chambers than most countries had rulers in their lifecycle. It was as intimidating to the needlessly approaching as it was ingrained into her very bones.

Ehtra’s fingers danced on her arms while she contemplated an answer to that question. She did not find one. Somewhat pathetic was the minimum, she did not know how much further up it went. The answer to what to do with this ignited lust was the same as it had been for the past several thousand years.

Absolutely nothing.

Masturbation was a breach of discipline, a lapse of concentration that a weapon was not afforded. It did not matter if this was practically untrue, the principle remained. Ehtra would not become a slave to her own instincts. If the problem, however, persisted, and he just kept on being so annoyingly attractive, then…

‘The choice is mine,’ the First of Hatred thought and let out a thoroughly tired, womanly sigh. “Absolutely pathetic,” she mumbled to herself.

______________________________________________________________________

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Ehtra smirked. The recoil of the heavy piece of intricate machinery in her hand was just wonderful. It vibrated up her arm, resonated in her chest, and even made the two lumps of surprisingly firm squish feel like they had purpose. There was just a special kind of pleasure in feeling parts of her body jiggle from the pushback of the explosive within the weapon.

Maybe having big tits and thick thighs wasn’t the worst thing ever. It gave her certain advantages that her chosen appearances typically didn’t. People certainly treated her nicer now that she did not have hair like rusty wire and a build like a skeleton.

They also kept trying to speak to her, which was infinitely annoying.

Before her good mood could fade, Ehtra slammed a new magazine into the slot and aimed at a different plate. Various metals were lined up in the shooting range, forming a semi-circle that kept a consistent distance from where she stood.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Ehtra managed to stay her fingers before pulling the trigger a fourth time. The muzzle of the metallic piece of happiness glowed an arcane red, magical exhaust rising as fumes as dense as thin silk from the various slits along the bulky body of the armament. “I love this thing,” Ehtra stated and grinned.

What a wonderful invention the gun was. One just pointed it at an object of malcontent and it was gone. Ehtra was even tempted to kiss her chosen armament, but the cooling arcane energies were unlikely to feel pleasant against her lips.

Instead, she placed it on the hip-high table in front of her and then went to grab the Baelementium plate she had been shooting at. The metal had managed to withstand the rounds, as something of its rarity and thickness should have. The bullets shot in this case had been marked as kinetic impact rounds anyhow. The two other plates had been ripped into by the explosives, while this specific one had been dented like a bow.

Taking it off the hinges, Ehtra carried it and the gun with her as she returned to the one that had managed to build this large marvel of destructive joy.

Hailey was bowed over an anvil, a hammer in her hands and a fist-sized mana crystal in front of her. Immediately, Ehtra’s eyebrow shot up, the second immediately following when the enigma engineer brought the heavy duty tool down on the object of condensed power. Even she, a layman in magical crafting, knew that crystallized mana was to be handled with enough care that it was deemed largely impractical to use it in any industrial setting. That was why everyone went with mana batteries instead.

Hailey slammed the mana crystal with enough force that it bounced twice after she drew her arm back. The uneven surface of the object began to glow, little bits of purple lightning dancing through the air around it, arcing from one corner to the other. Barely bound energy flowed in a circle, ever so slowly diminishing.

“Are you sure you should be treating explosives like that?” Ehtra asked.

“Can’t artificially create differently coloured mana without breakin’ a few mana crystals,” Hailey answered and swung her hammer again. “I know what I’m doin’… I think.”

Ehtra put the gun on one of the many workbenches, where a new version of it was already in development. When she turned to Hailey again, the blonde woman raised her hammer again. She struck. The still glowing surface of the mana crystal turned brighter. Ehtra could see white runes shining through the purple light.

Something gave. The crystal’s circulating energy went fully unstable, feeding back into it, accelerating the glow, the flow, and the exhaust exponentially. “Uh-oh,” the enigma engineer managed to get out that sound.

Ehtra slammed the bent target down on the anvil. The arcane light in the room was suddenly gone. The impromptu lid rose for a split second, letting white arcane particles scatter out in a circular explosion of slicing barrier shards. It was all around harmless, the First of Hatred and the lid containing the worst of the explosion.

“Thanks,” Hailey said, after Ehtra lifted the plate.

“Why do you even strike unstable fuel with a hammer?” Ehtra asked.

“I just told ya that,” Hailey answered, amused. “Ya wanna be stuck with standard explosives or ya wanna have a bunch of magazines with different kinds of rounds for specific purposes?”

“The answer to that and your lack of safety precautions seem to be disconnected.” Ehtra shook her head. “Then again, you’re the mad genius here.”

“Enigmatic genius,” Hailey corrected with an amused drawl. Her accent did have something enticing to it, the First of Hatred admitted only to herself. “Only got like 9 more of those though, so I gotta be careful.”

“YOU SHOULD ALWAYS BE CAREFUL!” Scarlett shouted from a room over. “YOU’RE EXPLODING TENS OF THOUSANDS OF TOKENS EACH TIME YOU DO THAT!”

“THAT’S THE COST OF R’N’D, RAYD!” Hailey shouted back before turning to Ehtra again. “I got the thing done, by the way.”

“Really?” Ehtra asked, her disbelief mixing with sheer surprise. “It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Ain’t like this was a hard commission.” Hailey waved off and guided Ehtra to one of the workbenches. “Gotta change into your combat… attire? Form? Gets kinda weird when the armour is you.”

“Attire is more appropriate, I believe, although that confusion is justified,” the First of Hatred responded. The sturdy plate of ornate Astrotium formed over the maid uniform, covering her in a second skin entirely indistinguishable from true armour. The interlocking segments felt light, despite what they looked like. Ehtra loved the way she felt in this form. All this extra material her new contractor had revived her with blended to make her feel more able and awake than ever before.

She didn’t even mind that she couldn’t see her toes.

‘Maybe the giant breasts weren’t entirely his decision,’ Ehtra considered and chewed the inside of her cheek. ‘Maybe I… wanted to look good for him since our minds first made contact… urgh, pathetic woman.’

At least Hailey’s brilliance gave her something to distract herself with. The enigma engineer grabbed a simple-looking contraption. Its main body was a long metal rectangle. Open clasps extended from the sides of the hollow body. At the bottom was a plate with a round cut-out. Several leather bands extended from the back.

Ehtra just stood still and silently judged, while Hailey tightened one of the bands to her waist and two to her thigh. ‘Again, maybe these aren’t that bad,’ Ehtra thought when she realized that the volume of her leg’s upper part and the consequent shape of the plate covering it gave the straps a little more to work with.

“Alrighty, that’s lookin’ well,” Hailey stated and handed Ehtra the bolt gun.

Ehtra slotted the muzzle into the metal plate. The moment she did, a finely tuned mechanism reacted to the pressure. The clasps snapped into position, a magnetic force activated, and the gun was secured in place.

“This won’t work,” Ehtra stated immediately.

Hailey’s content smile was replaced with an inquisitive and confused glance. “Why not?”

Before answering, Ehtra double checked that the gun was unloaded. “Suppose you were an adversarial creature,” she explained in a neutral tone. “Suppose also that, for reasons of distance or otherwise, my sword hand is occupied. I need to shoot you as fast as possible.” The First of Hatred pulled at the handle of the bolt gun. The clasps loosened, the magnetic force was removed – both took time, but the real difficulty was that she had to raise the weapon until the muzzle was removed from the slot. Only then did she have the manoeuvrability to actually point her weapon at Hailey.

“Got it,” the enigma engineer stated immediately. “Gotta reshape the clasps and change the cut-out to a slide rather than a slot. Easy enough. Gimme ten.” Ehtra nodded, took off the holster, and headed for the door. “So, ya lookin’ forward to the Raid?”

Ehtra stopped in the frame. She looked up, inspecting the structure of the rock they had used to erect this workshop. The answer was complicated and yet simple.

“I want to see what your man is capable of.”