Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

Chapter 239 Damnamenaeus

[Ding!]

[Calculating proximity in miles to the camp of the Skullrider, Third in Triune, DESERT LORD ZAFTIG. . .]

[Lord host. It is another half mile.]

[Routes are confirmed! Successfully added to Map Digitum for outsourcing. I'm currently of the opinion we leave now and make it there before dusk hits.]

"Hmm?" Rafel scratched his chin in thought. He let his closed eyelids drop and his vision was filled with the exposition of the wonderful savannah birds hopping on great bison barks. In the distant lake, bronze hippos frothed in the water. Rafel was not sure, but beasts akin to elephants roamed in the furthest reaches of the plain lands. He shifted his gaze, glancing to his harem and wondering if they were quite ready to begin again.

He wanted them well rested. Peitho read his mind and interfered, seducing him with her cool marine voice, like slapping beach waves of high sea, to shut his eyes again. With her enchanting voice, the otherworldly form of a curvaceous ash-haired girl appeared in his [Psyche world]. She, in his head, was a silhouette. But any man could see clearly what gorgeous assets made up that body.

[Lord host, do not trouble about your females. The ride wasn't on steeds—I'm sure their thighs are proper fine. But I am your system, not theirs. My priority and first principal care goes to you.]

The mystified lady with the brass hair and orthodox garments made a form of slow dance, twirling to the sound of Peitho's sweet voice. Rafel's [Psyche world] was very similar to a dream realm. He enjoyed this particular vision alone.

"Peitho, is that you?"

[I can be whomever you want, Lord host. I can tell your thoughts before you think it. I can manifest a fantasy even if you won't tell. I am your servant. Call me Agetta. Call me Trixie. It doesn't matter. I will be to you, true vassal. I must ask now, Lord host, shall you require me dance for you. No one will be the wiser. I exist in your head...]

The lady dropped her garments to her waist. Ample skin, lush and fruit-swollen, entered Rafel's eyes. His mind eyes.

[...my nakedness. My will. My service. All of me.]

"Peitho, are you horny right now?"

To the world outside the [mindverse], they only saw Rafel's smile stretch wider and wider. The company stared at him; close-eyed, having a grin going that could change the world. Khalifa leaned in on her arm.

"What's wrong with him?"

Naamah, Cora, and Ravenna shared flushed looks.

"It's his system," Corazón dropped in the silence under the savanna tree, "she's particularly sexy."

"She?" Khalifa looked befuddled.

Ravenna rearranged a curl of Israfel's hair. "Yeah. She."

Inside his [Psyche world], Peitho—or at least this form of her had begun to draw closer. It gave off more explicit hues of her distracting bosom swells. Her breasts hung like perky avocados. A rich Latvian spice. Her skin was a drug. Ashen. Synthetic. Vibrant.

[You must be tired of redheads and brunettes and blondes. Let me give you this, Lord host.]

She twirled in her finger her wealth of stormy hair.

[Let me worship you.]

[Say the word, and I shall transport us to a free dimension where time has no consequence. And we can indulge to our heart's content. You can breed me. Fuck me while I'm pregnant. Whip me. Chain me. I won't mock. I won't break. I live for you, O Apollyon. Yours alone. Forever.]

Peitho now stood right over his face. The taste of her full, round, swinging breasts against his lips.

[You don't even need to say the word.]

In the [Real], Rafel was tenting his hard brown pants. He was spotting an erection so massive it gave even Aya pause. Khalifa was red up to her forehead. She coughed loudly. Corazón instantly grabbed up a small pillow and dropped it over his crotch. He almost speared the damn thing.

Rafel felt Cora's hand begin to move. And he just knew... he had to stop this.

Quick.

Before he started fucking four women, virtual and real, in front of his escort of Bonelanders. Find your next read on empire

Corazón lifted her hands and pulled off her gloves.

She charged her fingertips with a mind conjuring of [Sunfire]. Though at the Corynthian Academy, she had been Raven Arc, but she had gained a few attributes from the Griffins. Enough to power her [Influence]. And she broke through the blockade like a champ.

Sizzle. Poof!

Sizzle. Poof!

Two fiery balls of pure cloud magic erupted and shot out of her spread fingers. It tore in the air, exactly like cannons, and made short work of the rocks.

Boom!

The explosion rang the earth. Fragments of stone bulleted everywhere. Everyone stared as the boulder she had aimed for literally melted into a puddle of hot thick brown lava at their feet. The molten rock solidified in seconds. "There she goes," Rafel praised, "my gun-slingin' darling!"

"Hahaha." It prompted roundabout laughter.

Corazón was struggling with her blush. By the passing second, Israfel was turning her on the more. In an hour, if she lasted that long, she'd be a mess. A clingy, horny, pussy-wet, trouser-clad girl.

Would she be a darling then?

Out from the corner of her eyes, she could see him staring and smiling. The damn demon. Only he... Only he could do this to her. "The fuck you looking at?" She scoffed. She literally begged him to look away with her blue eyes. "Nothing." But he kept smiling. As Cora wrestled with her gloves again, they waited for the smoke and dust of the explosion to clear.

When it did, a man stood in the residue.

A man in a long blue shroud.

His shawl had a cowl, and it was so dark a navy it was almost black. It billowed in the high winds of the desert. The smoke cleared and he was just standing there.

"Hail!" he said. His voice rang in the rocks.

And then he dropped straight down to his knees, in front of Rafel's camel.

His genuflection was what enabled Rafel to read the embroidered silver rune on his backcloth: a [Lightning Bug].

The man stood. He raised his head. His face was pale as the snows so far from this place it was like on another realm and time. He looked like he came from such place too. A land of endless night, black death, crisp cold, and terrors of ice. His eyes were total white. A dead giveaway. It had been long since Rafel had seen one of the Immortals.

This man also held a distaff; the orb was [divine grade] on the clasp of his left hand. His right hung at his side, a knobbish diamond signet glinting off his first finger in the sunset.

Just by his appearance, Cora deduced a lot of things from the strange apparition. Under the last light of the desert sky, she told Rafel what she had gathered about this person, out of her intelligent mind.

"A Magus." She pronounced.

Everyone heard this. Her next words, not so much:

"He's a Supreme." She cemented. "S-rank. But his clothes are not borne of war. They are crisp and clean. And I smell the faintest whiff of lamp oil and incense in the air. He's a learned man."

Rafel nodded, thanking Cora with the small gesture. He turned to the blue-robed druid standing in the path of their procession.

"Who are you, O mysterious one?"

Then came the man's thunderstorm rumbles again, rattling a few pebbles off a crevice.

"I am Historian of the First Holy Order of the Old gods. I am Damnamenaeus. The Vestal mother reached out to me. Like Her Holy Grace, I too see the purpose in your path. I am here to help."

Rafel had so, so many questions. Indira had really come through on her promise. But the strange druid didn't step out of the way as he lifted his right hand, the one with the diamond, and opened it before Rafel.

"I believe you have something for me."

Rafel found himself reaching for the scroll.