The meeting with Lissy was drawing close.
I couldn't drag this out any longer.
I exhaled, softening my voice. "Does big sis really want me to leave?"
I saw her eyes shaking a little at hearing my question. She seemed to be second-guessing whether she had said the right thing.
And now she seemed to be struggling to change her words.
"Alright," I added. "If I'm just making things harder for my big sis… I'll go."
Without waiting for a response, I walked away slowly because I expected her to stop me.
And I was right.
"Nero, stop."
Her sudden call made me stop hard in my tracks.
She slowly came to my side, her shoulders slightly hunched, eyes lowered as if weighed down by an invisible burden.
"When Alvin's away… it's just me and the kids," Rafaella murmured, her voice soft but heavy. "Things aren't the same as they used to be. Honestly,… I don't feel completely safe. The villagers are too far away. If something ever happened… if we were really in danger… no one would get here in time."
Her words lingered, pressing into the air like an unspoken fear finally gave shape. She turned away as if voicing it had made the fear too real. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her scarf, her shoulders drawn taut.
The tension of the moment was pressing down hard.
Too hard.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well, I guess you're right. But honestly, big sis? I think we're safer than you think."
She blinked, eyes flickering toward me. "What?"
"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "We've got a stone giant who could bench a bear, two tiny devils who run the place, a herd that could scare off a pack of wolves just by mooing loud enough, and above all," I gestured toward her with a smirk, "if my big sis handles them as she handles me, they'd probably run off crying before even trying anything."
Her lips twitched, but she tried to hold it in.
"And if all else fails," I said, stepping forward with hands raised in mock desperation, "I'll collapse at their feet and bawl until they leave from sheer second-hand shame."
She let out a laugh that seemed to surprise even her. She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if surprised by the sound of her own laugh.
"You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head.
"But I made you laugh," I pointed out smugly.
She exhaled, as if shaking off the lingering tension, then crossed her arms. "Alright, alright… now listen." Her tone shifted from playful to firm.
"Who am I to you?"
"My big sis."
She nodded approvingly. "Good boy. Then you should continue to see big sis as only big sis from now on. Got it?"
I frowned, feigning confusion. "But I already do?"
"No," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I mean, you should only look at me as your big sis."
"That's literally what I just said." I crossed my arms, mirroring her irritation.
"Don't mess with me." She huffed, planting her hands on her hips.
I unintentionally let out a smirk but turned away dodging her gaze. That only made her more determined. With a quick step forward, she grabbed my shoulder and spun me back to face her.
"Alright. If you won't listen until I say it to your face, then so be it. I will say it explicitly."
She hesitated. Her breath hitched slightly as she braced herself to be 'explicit'.
I could see the effort it took her to push forward despite the obvious discomfort. Her eyes darted around, landing anywhere but on me.
"Ever since you got here, sometimes your gaze has been… w-wrong," she muttered, her voice faltering. "I feel it. You stare at me… at my... no! it's not… It's not right. That's all."
She clenched her fists and hardened her expression as if summoning all her willpower to sound more threatening than embarrassed. "I don't like it. If you keep looking at me like that, I'll tell Granny."
And just like that, she spun on her heel and took off, swift as an arrow, rushing toward the house.
I stood there, watching her retreating figure.
The threat she raised blew up in smoke the second my eyes landed on her ass. As she ran ahead, those buns wiggled with each step, tight and firm, leaving no space between them.
I imagined sliding my dick between those taunt cheeks while my hands slowly rubbing her soft boobs. The idea alone made my dick bulge hard in my shorts.
Does she really expect me to stop looking after flaunting those sweet cakes right before me? Preposterous.
Suddenly, Rafaella turned around.
Her eyes locked onto mine.
She saw where I was looking.
A blush flashed across her face.
With a quick motion, she yanked the edge of her scarf and pulled it down over her bottom, stretching the fabric as far as it would go in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Then, without another second of hesitation, she bolted toward the house even faster.
Aww, how cute. She thinks clothes can hide her. My eyes are trained to strip with a single glance.
I waited around 10 minutes after she left before going to the house.
It was finally time to meet Lissy!
When I reached the front yard, Rafaella was already seated in the cart's driver's seat.
Her brows scrunched when she saw me.
"Where are you going, Big Sis?"
She flicked the reins, guiding the cart closer. Her glare made it clear she was still hung up over what had happened earlier.
"I ordered something from the woodwork. If I don't pick it up myself, they will delay it until the caravans leave the village."
She said, then paused as if remembering something. "Oh, and you eat salmon, right?"
Salmon? Do they have that here?
For Nero, who had never strayed past his hunting grounds in Agroville, fish was a rare delicacy. The village head had banned fishing in the ponds, worried the local flora would be wiped out. The few who did manage to catch something usually kept it for themselves unless they were desperate for a few Silvas coins.
While he knew Crafts Wood, with its massive river, was a different story, he hadn't expected them to have salmon of all things.
Seeing his confusion, Rafaella explained gently, "Trust me, it's good. It is considered a fancy dish around here."
"Didn't I already say that anything made by your hands is special to me, Big Sis? As long as you add your love for me, how could the other ingredients possibly matter?"
"Bah, who loves you?" she scoffed. But the faint tug at her lips betrayed her amusement.
"You don't love me?" I gasped, clutching my chest like her words have stabbed me.
Hearing the hurt in his voice, Rafaella instinctively opened her mouth to correct herself, but then remembering this was the same douche who harassed her till now she snorted instead.
"I don't know which teacher in Agroville taught you how to act, but they must've been damn good for you to be this convincing," she huffed. "The kids ran off to play. If they come back, tell them to stay for lunch, or I'll punish them. I'll try to finish up and be back as soon as I can."
She didn't wait for a response, fearing that if she lingered, he'd pull her right back into his shenanigans and get the better of her again.
With a flick of the reins, the cart jerked forward.
I gave a thumbs-up with a reassuring expression, but Rafaella didn't even spare me a glance.
Watching her flee the scene in a panic, I shook my head in amusement before heading back into the house.
Grabbing a towel and a bar of soap, I happily hopped my way to the pond.
It had barely been two days since I'd last done the deed, but with my bloodline progressing, it felt like two decades had passed. I had no habit of indulging myself, so things had just built up like a volcano.
Let's hope the experienced married lady can help me with all my needs.
Reaching the pond, I carefully scanned my surroundings.
Even if she said she was only here to wash my back, I fully intended to go all the way.
Which meant ensuring safety was paramount.
Dried grass reached up to my shoulders on all sides, except for the entrance. As long as I didn't get too carried away, I'd notice anyone coming.
All clear.
Leaving my towel and clothes on a smooth stone slab, I dove straight into the water wearing my shorts.
The cold shivered down my spine, but I forced myself to adjust.
Apart from my late-night dalliances with Sharron, this would be the first time I did it with the sun up in the sky. That too, out in the open.
The thought sent a weird thrill through my nerves.
Glancing down, I smirked.
My dick was already straining against the wet fabric. No doubt the vixen would appreciate it once she got here.
Calming myself, I kept my eyes on the only narrow pathway Lissy could come from.
It was already ten-thirty. But no worries, it wasn't like a mandatory clock-in on-time appointment or anything.
I swam around the pond for a bit, then floated on my back, staring at the blue sky.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty.
Lissy never showed up.
Disappointment slowly settled in me.
Why didn't she show up?
Was she messing with me?
No way. She can't possibly fake that intense lust in her eyes. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
So what happened?
Did she mean ten-thirty at night?
Fuck. It was already freezing cold enough to turn my dick into an icicle in the morning. There is no way she would even think that.
Did something happen at her home?
With a disappointed dick and a sulking heart, I trudged back to the house after bathing myself, my mind trying to make sense of the absence of my promised lay.
Once back in my room, I changed into fresh clothes and locked the door from the inside.
Sitting cross-legged on the futon, I forced myself to ignore the sting of Lissy's betrayal and focus on what actually mattered.
There was no use brooding over a missed lay when bigger problems loomed.
Like the damn mutt blocking the exploration inside the spiritual plane.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the Black Book from the closet and held it in my hands.
A strange sense of connection coursed through me, and I again realized I had an intimate connection with the gear. The book was bound to me, and I had a specific authority over it.
I poured mana into it, and the changes began.
Dark, thorny vines erupted from its cover. It slithered up my arm before sinking into my flesh. They drank deeply, siphoning my blood in greedy gulps before finally stopping.
The polished black sphere pulsed like a heartbeat before releasing an eerie glow. The pages fluttered open, and dark tendrils of mist shot out, and coiled around me.
I silently opened my mouth, allowing the inky mist to enter my body.
The process was unsettling, but this time, I remained calm like a detached spectator overseeing everything.
I didn't thrash around, nor did I feel any panic, like yesterday. Because I knew I could stop the process at any moment.
The Black Book wasn't some uncontrollable threat but a merely lifeless device executing one of its functions, and I was in command.
Soon came the weightless and then the disconnection from my body.
When I opened my eyes again, my vision had changed. Everything around me had traces of intermixed colours woven around it.
Looking down, I noted my body staying still as if I had fallen asleep halfway through meditation.
The Black Book's vines remained latched onto my wrist, its polished sphere now swirling with black mist like a vortex spiraling inward.
Without hesitation, I dived in.
Driving off the disorientation that came with traveling through the multi-coloured rings I slowly opened my eyes.
A grand bed stretched out before me. The room was just as I remembered.
I glanced at the doorway, half-expecting the mutt to squirm the moment it saw my presence.
But it was gone.
Good. I had work to do.
Drawing in a slow breath, I began working through the Baron of Corruption technique.
I had lots of doubt clawing at my heart as I methodically drew in corrupted spirit mana.
Would the oppressive negative energies of this place interfere? Would the technique even function accurately in Ghost Form? Is the presence of my whole body a necessity?
I waited and soon confirmed none of my worries came true.
I could smoothly draw in corrupted spirit mana.
That alone sent a rush of excitement through me.
When I replayed our fight, it was clear that the corrupted spirit mana acted as a shield that even numbed the pain.
If I could continuously replenish it, didn't that make me damn near unkillable here?
The thought of turning into an unstoppable force marching around, slapping everything left and right that stood in my way, hung a grin on my lips.
But my fantasies were short-lived.
No matter how much Corrupted Spirit Mana I pulled in, my reserves never increased.
Frowning, I experimented more.
I drew in more at different speeds and patiently watched the flow.
I almost ground my non-existent teeth when I realized the damn room was adjusting the leaching of my mana as I drew it in.
The more I absorbed, the more it drained. If I slowed down, so did the siphoning. And if I stopped entirely, it returned to a default absorption rate.
No matter how much mana I possessed, the walls ensured I'd always run dry within half an hour.
I clicked my tongue. So much for being a cheat in here.
That left me facing a tall wall that was hard to bypass.
My problem wasn't just defeating the mutt. It was what came after.
Even if I overwhelmed it with clever tricks, then what? What if next time I faced a whole pack?
The spiritual plane was unpredictable, full of things I knew nothing about. If I continue to dive blindly like yesterday, it couldn't be called nothing short of stupid.
And even if the Black Book prevented my death, what good would it do if I couldn't progress? If I couldn't grow stronger, the spiritual plane was useless.
I guess without a reliable method to strengthen my spirit and, by extension, increase my prowess in Ghost Form, exploring the spiritual plane would lead nowhere.
That left me with two more options.
The first was assimilating information from the spiritual plane. I could make my spirit more complex, more stronger.
But that came with its own risks.
The spirit is the projection of fundamental information about myself. It was a representation of the inner self, what made me, me.
Taking in a few select pieces of knowledge with the intent of gaining tidbits of knowledge wouldn't harm me much in the short term, but if I started assimilating things at random just to strengthen my spirit, things would go south real fast.
I'd lose control.
My thoughts might fracture, splinter into a hundred directions. Until I was nothing more than a raving lunatic, screaming at ghosts.
Yeah. No thanks.
The second option was absorbing pure Spirit Dao Essence to refine my spirit directly. The Baron of Corruption technique even outlined an obvious method for converting Spirit Dao Essence into Corrupted Spirit Mana.
But I didn't have any Spirit Dao Essence, and neither did I know how to refine Dao ore that can be gained from the spiritual plane.
One path led to slow insanity. The other was locked behind a door I didn't have the key to.
Sigh, should I postpone the spiritual plane exploration until I get a decent refinement technique from the city?
The thought alone made my face twist in frustration.
The problem was, that I had no alternative venues for growth.
It was clear from Rafaella's observation of my vessel and my practice sessions with the Barron of corruption technique that I couldn't progress further without bloodline advancement.
That left only enhancing my vessel.
But unfortunately, the Ascension technique I chose provides no such luxury.
The so-called enhancements listed in it were… less than ideal.
Most of them focused on mutilating genitals for heightened pleasure, altering body fragrance to be more alluring, or other laundry lists of perversions, all designed to make the user more… 'bewitching'.
Aside from the Toxic Tongue, which allowed me to store and administer poisons with my tongue, there was nothing remotely useful in a close combat fight.
Honestly, I should've seen this coming.
The Baron of Corruption was a mage-oriented combat style. It was never meant for direct physical enhancement.
If I could get my hands on an Incubus's parts to consume, I could refine my bloodline and gain vessel enhancements unique to them. But where the hell was I supposed to find an Incubus willing to jump into my mouth?
I exhaled sharply.
Had I made a mistake?
If I'd known my vessel's peculiarity, I would've chosen a vessel-oriented Ascension technique instead.
Then, I wouldn't have to run behind women for progression. I wouldn't have to gamble my life in the spiritual plane before even properly awakening.
A slow, dull frustration settled over me.
I wanted to progress faster. To become strong enough to carve out a foothold in this ruthless world.
Instead, I stood on a staircase with missing steps, each gap a reminder of what I lacked, with no clue how to bridge the distance.
I exhaled, shaking off the weight of frustration. Dwelling on it wouldn't help.
Passing through the black mirror, I slipped back into the material plane.
Still, in Ghost Form, I took a moment to scrutinize the room once more before drifting toward the window.
Outside, near the pond, I checked what caught my attention yesterday, a rune script etched into one of the trees.
Unlike yesterday, it wasn't glowing, likely inactive during the day.
For a brief moment, I considered checking it out while still in Ghost Form. But then, I hesitated.
Maybe it was the unfeeling statue's words that were still fresh in my mind.
Maybe it was the sting of repeated setbacks.
Either way, I wasn't in the mood for unnecessary risks.
I dove into my vessel, undoing the ghost form before carefully tucking the Black Book away. Then, locking the door behind me, I headed downstairs.
I checked around to see if the kids had dropped by, but the house was silent with no sign of anyone.
Stepping outside, I made my way toward the rune-covered tree.
Even if it took some time, I climbed the tall tree until I reached the rune's level and studied it up close.
As expected, I didn't understand a damn thing.
Still, I committed its patterns to memory. I could analyse it later, maybe compare it to something I get hands-on.
I wasn't in any hurry to get down. So I took my time to take in the view.
The estate stretched before me, an imposing two-story house, crafted from polished black stone, nestled amidst a sea of sprawling greenery teeming with diverse flora. The air was alive with the hum of insects and the distant calls of birds, their songs weaving through the solemn silence of the wooden temple beyond.
For a moment, I let it all wash over me.
Then, just as I was about to climb down, movement on the stone pathway caught my eye.
A familiar cart and Taurus were trudging along.
Rafaella was back.
But she wasn't alone.
Behind her, a massive turtle lumbered forward, pulling an equally massive wagon.
And on its back, perched like it was the most natural thing in the world, sat a woman.
The wagon behind them carried... a bed?
What the hell was this about?
My curiosity flared and I climbed down without wasting another second, hurrying toward them.
#####
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