Eis, left sitting on the bed, watched as his mom, humming a tune he hadn't heard in years, began expertly sharpening her knife to butcher the massive wolf leg.
The sound was rhythmic, almost meditative. With the immediate family drama settled for now, his mind turned inward, to the silent partner riding shotgun in his consciousness.
Hey, System. Let's talk business, bra, he thought, leaning back on his elbows and adopting a casual, almost irreverent tone.
You kinda decided to stay. We need to work on the currency between us. And what would you offer me as my System?
A prompt, clear and slightly sassy, appeared in his mind's eye.
[Well, I got a currency. Since I am not my brother, I will use AP points.]
A moment later, a helpful, almost sheepish addendum followed.
[That is Achievement Points.]
Wait, you have siblings? Eis thought, his curiosity genuinely piqued.
[Well, not like that. I mean, we were created at the same time by the same gods. So, in that kinda way, yes, I have brothers. Well, one of them is a she. The Lust System. I bet you never heard about it.]
Eis couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face. Well, I did, actually. They wrote a novel about it.
The System's response was a digital gasp of outrage.
[What?! That should not be legal! The gods love to keep their secrets! They want everyone to think they are all treated the same!]
Well, I don't know about that, Eis replied, his inner voice dripping with amusement. It's a good novel. Hope they make an anime about it. I'm kinda a hentai fan myself.
[Yes. I noticed.(' , ')] The text was dry and utterly deadpan.
Alright, enough about your scandalous family. How many points do I have?
A new screen materialised.
[AP Points: 0]
Hey, yoh! How is it zero? Eis sat up straight, his mental shout echoing in the quiet of his own head. I killed seven beasts! Is that not an achievement for you?
There was a pause, then a flurry of text, as if the System was frantically scrolling through files.
[Ooh! You wanted me to count that? Oooh! Oooh! Sure! Let me make the calculations...]
Another screen popped up, listing items with comical speed.
[For five Tier One wolves: 5,000 AP Points. For one Tier One, Stage 6 wolf: 3,000 AP Points. For the Demon Chicken: 3,000 AP Points.]
A final tally glowed brightly.
[Total AP: 11,000]
That's more like it, Eis thought, the satisfaction clear in his mental tone. Well, what can I buy with those? Give me skills, weapons. Come on, whip something out!
[Well, I am still connected to the treasury of the gods. Let me find something that will suit the points you have.]
The interface went silent for a moment, the text replaced by a shimmering, loading symbol. Eis waited, the sounds of his mother preparing the feast filling the hut, while in the quiet of his mind, a divine shop was about to open for business.
The shimmering loading symbol vanished, replaced by a sleek, holographic interface that looked suspiciously like a high-end online storefront. Three options glowed enticingly in his mind's eye.
[Alright, alright. Keep your metaphysical pants on. Browsing the divine treasury is not like picking berries. I have curated three initial offerings based on your current points and questionable potential.]
Eis grinned. He was starting to like this snarky stick.
[SKILLS SHOWCASE]
1. [Lesser Werewolf Constitution]
Description: Absorb a fraction of the essence from the Alpha Wolf you slew. Grants a permanent 20% increase to physical strength, speed, and regenerative abilities. Your senses, particularly smell and hearing, will become supernaturally acute.
Cost: 8,000 AP
System's Note: A solid foundation skill. Not flashy, but it will make you significantly harder to kill. Also, you'll never lose a game of hide-and-seek again.
2. [Beast Tongue - Basic Proficiency]
Description: Allows you to understand the base instincts, emotions, and simple concepts of non-sapient beasts. You won't be debating philosophy with a squirrel, but you'll know if it's warning you about a predator or just angry you're near its nuts.
Cost: 5,000 AP
System's Note: Extremely useful for a hunter. Also, you can finally ask the Demon Chicken why it was so angry all the time.
3. [Inventory Expansion - Tier 2]
Description: Your current pocket dimension is the size of a small closet. This upgrade expands it to the size of a modest hut. Store more loot, carry bigger trophies, never be without a snack.
Cost: 4,000 AP
System's Note: Practical. Boring, but practical. Think of it as investing in a really big, invisible backpack.
Eis scanned the options, his mind racing. The Werewolf Constitution was tempting, a direct power boost. The Beast Tongue was clever, a strategic advantage. But the Inventory...
Hmm, he mused. The constitution is a beast, no pun intended. But... System, what about weapons? You mentioned those.
[Weapons are available, but for 11,000 AP, just wait for your soul weapon; it will suit you better]
Well, what's that?
[You will figure it out]
The smell of sizzling wolf meat began to fill the hut, a promise of the celebration to come. But in Eis's mind, a different kind of feast was just beginning.
Well, all these are terrible, I can't lie, Eis thought, dismissing the curated list with a mental wave. I want a skill that can allow me to, you know... kill my sperm when I want to, and make it work again when I want to. You know what I mean?
There was a long, static-filled pause in his mind. When the System's text finally reappeared, it seemed to be typed with immense digital restraint.
[Well, yeah. I can't do that. I am not that kinda system, bra. My brother, the one they wrote the novel about, has skills like "Fertility God's Blessing" and "Virility of the Minotaur." I deal in achievements, not... targeted biological warfare.]
Eis felt a pang of disappointment. Maybe he'd asked for too much.
Ah, damn. So you can't—
[BUT!] the System interrupted, the text flashing brightly. [I can get you the skill you want. Just not directly.]
What? How?
[Well, I have a connection with the treasury of the gods. It's vast. Unimaginably so. If you can describe it, chances are a god, somewhere, for some reason, needed a divine solution for it. Let me search the archives...] The interface flickered rapidly.
[Ah. Here we are. The God of Unattached Wanderers wanted to walk the mortal realm without... accidental divine lineages. Bingo.]
A new, starkly simple skill description appeared.
[Skill: Selective Sterility]
Description: Grants the user conscious, toggle-based control over their own reproductive viability. Activate to render sperm inert. Deactivate to restore full, natural function. No side effects. Reversible at will.Cost: 8,000 AP
Eis blinked. It was perfect. Blunt, effective, and exactly what he'd asked for.
Okay. Make it happen.
[AP Points Deducted: 8,000. Remaining AP: 3,000.]
[Skill Acquired: Selective Sterility (Level 1 - Max)]
A strange, cool sensation washed through him, settling deep in his core. It wasn't unpleasant, just... definitive. He now possessed an on/off switch for his own fertility. The sheer absurdity of it hit him.
Okay, he thought, shaking his head with a wry grin. Sounds really weird here, but... Status.
[Host Status - Tier 1 Warrior]
Name: Eis Vulcan
Race: Human
Core Level: 3 (Stage 3, Tier 1)
Title: Beast Slayer, The Cursed (Veiled)
---Attributes---
Strength: 14 (+4)
Agility: 15
Vitality: 14
Intelligence: 9
Charisma: 11
---Assimilated Traits---
[None]
---Skills---
Spear Proficiency (Crude): Level 1
Improvised Crafting: Level 1
Selective Sterility: Level 1 (Max) on
---Inventory---
Devil Chicken Meat x3Devil
Chicken Skin x2Devil
Chicken Beak x1
Demon Wolf Pelt x1
Demon Wolf Fangs x4
---System Notes---
AP Points: 3,000
Eis's eyes widened at the "Level 3" designation. He hadn't felt any grand surge, just... a solidification of the power he'd gained.
(Hey! Why didn't you tell me I had a level up?!)
The System's text box appeared with an almost sheepish flicker.
[Well, I didn't want to destroy the moment between auntie and nephew. It was a touching scene. A proud warrior bestowing a gift of power upon her kin. Very cinematic. A giant "LEVEL UP!" banner flashing in your vision would have ruined the vibe, don't you think?]
Eis snorted, a genuine laugh escaping him. The System had a point. His aunt's gruff pride had meant more than any notification.
Fair enough. But don't do that again. I need to know these things.
[Noted. I'll interrupt all future heartfelt moments with loud fanfares and confetti. Your wish is my command.]
"Eis, could you step out for a moment? We need to get the room and your sister ready," Lysara said, her voice calm but firm as she wiped her hands on a cloth, the scent of herbs and roasting roots clinging to the air.
Eis looked at her, a silent plea in his eyes. "But Mom, my food..."
"You can have it after the ritual, Eis." There was no room for argument in her tone. She gently but insistently guided him by the shoulders toward the door. "Now, out."
He stepped into the evening. The world had been swallowed by a deep, premature gloom, as if the light itself had been trapped in an enchanted slumber.
Eis waited, the strange new invulnerability of his skin a small, cold comfort against the oppressive dark. For the first time, the frustrated hum of mosquitoes was a sound he observed from a distance, a barrier they could not cross.
"Eisss! It's ready. Come inside."
His mother's voice, a lifeline in the stillness, pulled him back. He stepped across the threshold into the familiar room, the same worn floorboards, the same comforting heat from the hearth. Yet it was utterly transformed.
The air was thick with a swirling, plum-colored smoke that coiled like a living thing.
It carried a scent that was both alien and deeply familiar: the iron tang of rain on hot stone, undercut by the ghost of wild, nocturnal flowers.
His eyes adjusted, drawn to the bed. His sister, Lyra, sat there, her posture rigid. She refused to look at him, her gaze fixed on some unseen point on the far wall, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
"Eis, I have already told your sister everything that must be done. She understands our traditions." Lysara's voice was low, ritualistic. She took his hand, her fingers cool against his skin, and tied a single, crimson thread around his wrist, her movements precise.
"This should give you a better chance to be favoured by the gods," she murmured, more a prayer than a statement. She gave his hand a final, fleeting squeeze. "I will be outside. Once you are done... You can call me."
With that, she stepped back, and the door closed with a soft, definitive click, sealing the two siblings in the perfumed, purple haze. The silence that followed was heavier than any darkness outside.
A profound silence settled in the room, thick and heavy as the sacred smoke. Kaela kept her eyes downcast, her shoulders tense. She fidgeted, rubbing her thighs together in a nervous, childlike gesture that belied the nature of the ritual.
"Eis... where do we start?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Eis looked at her, his gaze a well of tenderness and resolve. He moved slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away, and placed his hands on her waist. They were warm and steady against the thin fabric of her shift.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I will handle everything, Kaela."
He leaned in, closing the small, anxious space between them. He didn't rush. He paused for a breath, letting her feel his presence, his intention. Then, he gently captured her soft, small lips with his own. It was a kiss of passion, and one of promise, a seal on a pact they had no choice but to fulfil.
When he pulled away a small line of silver saliva still connecting them, her eyes were wide, but she hadn't flinched. Holding her gaze, he led her the few short steps to the small, old bed that had borne witness to generations of their family.
The wooden frame gave a familiar, soft creak as they sat, the sound swallowed by the purple haze, two figures at the heart of a silent, waiting storm.
The simple cloth of her shift fell easily, a whisper of fabric surrendering to gravity as Eis let it drop to the floor. The cool, smoke-laden air was a shock against her bare skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. A shiver, profound and uncontrollable, broke over her.
Then his touch followed—his palm, soft and familiar, cupped the soft weight of her breast. It was a possessive, grounding heat. His thumb, with an instinctual gentleness, brushed over her peak, and her body betrayed her utterly, tightening into an immediate, aching point of sensation.
A small, choked sound escaped her. "Eii...s," she breathed, her voice trembling with the conflict between the pleasure invading her body and the script she thought they were meant to follow.
She turned her face into his shoulder, as if to hide from her own reaction.
"I think... I think you are just supposed to put it inside. Why are you doing all this?"
It was a plea, not of rejection, but of confusion. The ritual was a transaction, a duty to the gods and their family line.
This, the slow exploration, the kindling of a fire in her blood, felt terrifyingly, wonderfully personal. It felt like something meant just for them.
"Hngh... Nh... Eis, please," she gasped, the words fracturing into a moan as her body arched against her will. "Just do it n-normally..."
Her plea was a desperate attempt to cling to the clinical, detached ritual she had braced for. But the sounds escaping her lips, high, breathy, utterly foreign—were proof that normality had already been left behind.
Eis refused to listen, his devotion to her pleasure absolute. He offered no words, only the rough, passionate press of his mouth against each of her trembling peaks, his tongue a flicker of lightning that made her jolt.
Then his hand moved lower, a single finger tracing a deliberate, maddening line from the hollow of her belly button down to the damp heat of her core.
He tested her, a slow, circling pressure that stole the air from her lungs. Her hips bucked, a tiny, involuntary plea.
"Ah... Aghhn! Eis..!" Her eyes screwed shut, her world narrowing to that single point of contact. "I... I... I f-feel something..."
It was a vast understatement. What she felt was a fissure cracking open deep inside her, a gathering storm of sensation that threatened to shatter her completely.
Her back arched sharply off the old mattress, her body convulsing around his touch in a silent, searing wave.
Only then did he relent. He withdrew his fingers, and in the haze of her climax, she watched, dazed, as he brought them to his lips, tasting her essence with a dark, approving gaze.
He leaned close, his breath a warm caress against the shell of her ear, his voice a soft, devastating whisper.
"Sweet."
"Kaela, I didn't think you would be this weak," he murmured, his own clothes joining hers on the floor. His hands, strong and sure, found her waist, aligning their bodies for the inevitable connection.
"Shut up, Eis," she breathed, her attempt at a commanding tone undermined by the tremor in her voice. "I am the older one here. I am in control." She tried to hold his gaze, to keep her face a mask of stoic composure, but the facade was cracking.
He moved closer, the heat of his skin a brand against hers. "Kaela, I love you," he whispered, the words both a balm and a warning. "But this is gonna hurt." Especially because she is a Tier 2 warrior. All her skin is very tough but soft."
He looked deep into her eyes, and before the fear could fully register, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, a deliberate distraction. It worked for a heartbeat, until he thrust home.
"Ahhgnnh! Ei..ii—!" Her cry was sharp, a sound of pure, shocking pain. Her sharp nails, the nails of a warrior, sank into the flesh of his back, drawing blood as her body locked in protest.
He had been right; her own hardened physiology, her greatest strength, had become the source of her agony.
A ragged groan tore from his throat, his body tensing above hers. "gods, Kaela..." he breathed, his voice strained with a mixture of awe and effort. He stilled for a moment, his hands gently stroking her hips. "You're holding on too tight, love. Just... breathe for me. Let go. I'm not going anywhere."
He held still, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath ragged. He searched her eyes and saw the pain, bright and raw.
But beneath it, shimmering to the surface, he saw something else: a profound, defiant joy. It was the joy of a connection she had been denied for years, ever since he had rejected her the moment the village started bullying him for his weird family. The memory of that old hurt flashed between them, and then it was gone, washed away in the present.
She gave a small, sharp nod of approval.
In that moment, permission granted, Eis began to move. His thrusts started as a slow, fluid rhythm, a careful rekindling of the fire he had started earlier. And soon, she met him, her hips rising to meet his, the pain receding like a tide, replaced by a building, frantic need.
"Eis... Eis... oh... Eisss..." His name was a prayer, a chant stuck on her lips. "F..ster!. Pl..ase!!, f..ter!." The words were gasped between moans, her command stripped of all authority, filled only with raw want. "But..." "just pound me faster."
A feral grin touched his lips. "As you wish, my Queen."
"Pahh. Pahh. Pahh."
The sound of their joining filled the small room as he increased his pace, brutal and perfect. Kaela's head fell back, her arms splayed, her moans spilling out unabated.
The thought flickered through her pleasure-fogged mind that if she saw herself now—this wild, vocal, abandoned creature, she would not recognise the disciplined warrior she had always been.
"Kaela... I'm about to... unh... unng!" His own control shattered, his release imminent, his pace becoming a frantic, final sprint.
"In... in de... don't spill outside... ple..se," she managed to beg, though she showed no real care, her body having already climaxed countless times, her own pleasure a finished symphony.
"Uggggh!" He released a powerful, guttural groan, a sound of pure, unrestrained completion as he spilt deep inside her, his body shuddering against hers.
In the heavy, breathless silence that followed, he did not pull away. He collapsed onto his elbows above her, his breath hot against her neck. The air was thick with the scent of their sweat and sex.
The low rumble of his laugh vibrated through her, a pleasant tremor against her chest where she lay sprawled atop him. His hands, broad and warm, rested possessively on the small of her back.
"How was that, Kaela?" Eis's voice was a sleepy, satisfied murmur against her hair. "Wanna go again?"
She could feel the shift of muscle beneath her as he subtly adjusted his position, the suggestion clear even in his languid state. A groan, half-genuine exhaustion, half-theatrical complaint, escaped her. "I am already sore, Eis.
And that should not be possible because of my Tier." She nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck, her words muffled against his skin. "Just... let me rest for a while.
Then you can do what you want. Right now, you will kill me. I'm mourning my voice; it's already dry."
His hand lifted from her back, his fingers threading gently through the tangled strands of her hair.
"Well," he said, his tone softening into something unbearably tender, "do you want some water?"
She shook her head minutely, not wanting to break the contact.
"No," she whispered, tilting her face up just enough to brush her lips against the stubbled line of his jaw. "Just plant your lips on mine, as you usually do."
It was a demand wrapped in a surrender, a lazy command from a queen too spent to lift her own head. She felt his smile more than saw it, a subtle curve of his lips against her temple before he obliged.
He shifted, just enough to capture her mouth with his in a kiss that was not about hunger, but about presence. It was soft, lingering, a silent promise and a gentle anchor.
When he pulled away, she sighed, a contented, heavy sound, her entire body melting into his. He was her shield, her bed, her peace. And for now, that was everything.