Take Up the Cross – CH3: Bizarre Research ☆

You’ll never gain anything without the right motivation, hee.

 

Fatso brewed something while Adris listened attentively.

Having pored over all of Fatso’s manuals, Adris became stressed by the lack of advancement Serras showed. Her current plateau was a danger, considering the limited time remaining.

Though Fatso has been only creepy and not malicious, Adris has known the pig long enough to have known that every word of advice was a pronouncement of death if unfollowed.

 

Princess just lacks the reason, hee. Haven’t you noticed her looks?Fatso wheezed as Adris related that she only stuck closer to him, lately.

 

Ah, young and oblivious, hee. The innocence of unconquered flesh, hee hee! Though I wouldn’t know…Fatso winked as he laughed noisily at his own statement. The man had never commented directly, but his prodigious size and baby-like face led to Fatso’s rival making regular comments behind his back.

Adris possessed enough understanding of life to have deduced the likely reason.

 

And how does that matter for what I’m doing? Adris’ questions have never been directly answered.

 

She’s wearing the necklace, cheap as it is, right? Are you really that dull? Or do you not like her like that, hee? You’re not… into men, are you?

Fatso made a show of covering his own sizable bottom, a maiden-like, hideous expression on his fat face.

 

The obvious taunt ignored, a question like the former was difficult to answer, as Adris had never had the opportunity to consider it.

 

What am I supposed to do?

 

Fatso moved like a snake, completely belying his size. The man mangled the boy’s head with a cracking sound, the fat hand gripped on top and having enveloped him totally.

As Adris gasped in pain, he was lifted off the ground.

The potion was left on the fire, as the shadows of the two struggling figures were painted on the wall.

 

The fat bastard reached down to roughly clench Adris’ manhood.

 

Use it, heeee! What is it there for if you don’t use it, heeeeeeee!Fatso rasped as he then twisted, which caused Adris to contort in immense pain.

Adris’ neck was also in great distress, one of his hands pulling down on a large arm for relief as the other went to the arm holding onto his penis, pulling in horror at the assault.

 

The ponderous man dropped him quickly, though it’d seemed like an eternity of suffering. As Adris held back tears while he twitched on the ground, Fatso looked contemplatively at the writhing boy.

 

You’re overthinking it, too, hee! Don’t think, do! You’re a man! Men and women just… do these things, heee! It’s not like you need a plan.Fatso dryly commented, before he walked back to his work.

 

Worst case scenario, she gets mad and makes you like her playthings, heee heeeeeee! Best case, you make her yours.Shrill, choked laughter came from the man as he had his back turned. Just remember: I don’t keep you around to let you two mate.

 

Turned back toward Adris, who had just gotten to a kneeling position, Fatso handed him a stoppered vial which contained an unknown liquid.

 

Your success is mine, son.The fat man cooed, having handed the vial to Adris.

A tight grip was given on delivery.

Whatever you do, make sure it takes you to your goal, and not away. Hee, besides, what do you care? You have a future to make. You can’t care about everything along the way, heee!

 

When Adris willingly took the vial, the big man patted him on the head roughly, but with a hint of affection. The lingering pain made Adris wince at the display.

 

Remember: she’s a tool. Lovely? Yes, and still in the daintiness of her youth; but, always keep in mind she is a weapon. You, hee? You are my assistant. Both of your are, hee, irreplaceable. But you… You understand the goal. When I need a brain, hee, it’s you I will always need.

 

Adris left the tent after, while the fat man made lewd gestures with his hands and hips. The choking laughter lingered as the boy departed.

The display made the boy uncomfortable in ways he could never hope to discuss with another.

 

But, it also made Adris realize his own desires as he walked towards Serras’ tent.

 

 


 

 

The vial?

 

It had never been necessary.

 

When pushed down, Serras had been filled with a quiet hunger Adris had never dreamed of. She had inflicted it on him, as he had inflicted himself on her.

Adris never found out what the vile concoction Fatso had brewed even did. He’d thrown it into the cooking fire the next day, a rash act that he’s always reproached himself for.

 

(“Never throw away what has utility.”)

 

The memory and the dream both end, as Adris’ consciousness returns.

Adris’ aura, if the man can call it that with how it currently feels, circulates at his command, though its path is confusing and limited.

He attempts to flex his muscles, but finds that he can’t move. Absolute paralysis grips him. Only his unconscious body movements, breathing and a heartbeat, confirm he’s still alive.

 

(Is this hell? Where is Fatso? I want to ask him what the potion did.)

 

Adris opens his eyes by forcing his aura to accomplish the task that his muscles cannot.

A dim, blue glow is what meets his enlarging pupils. The view of a close ceiling, with an oddly speckled texture, is his only frame of reference.

 

What catches his eyes are moving strands of darkness above him.

 

Fear immediately comes to him, the memory of his death to a similar darkness foremost… but…

 

Instead of a shining, menacing darkness, he wants to call it serpent-like. Weaving strands move about, separating at times as if the darkness is alive and composed of individual, finer strands.

Some tool is pulled overhead, carried by thick lengths which cradle it.

 

A disgusting voice oozes out, an unknown tongue obscuring the depravity Adris can feel in the tone.

Its choppy sound digs up an old memory, forcing Adris to think of the degenerate scholars who had hidden within their labyrinths of moldering scrolls.

 

(Hell is an odd place.)

 

Adris feels empty.

Everything he had within him before arriving in hell vanished with his death.

 

Even now, he struggles to care about his fate.

If his death occurred, then perhaps he deserves what’s coming.

 

 

Still, Adris attempts to move again, an ember burning within him forcing himself to struggle.

 

 

His senses have returned only slightly, leaving him with a feeling of numbness across his whole body.

It’s an impression of poison that his aura senses detect, and Adris can only attempt to circulate more vigorously to flush it.

 

When he resolves to do so, the aura in his body moves at once to his left hand, a rush of pain accompanying it.

Adris feels his mind become hazy, as though the blood has drained from it.

 

Aura rushes back from his hand, traveling along pathways that actively warp with this return.

It no longer feels like his own self, more like an external creature. It obeys him, but the subtle qualities are gone.

 

(What was left of my body?)

 

The poison clears as quickly as he attempted to flush it, the strange aura working far more effectively than his own.

The room now feels deathly cold, the stone he is lying on so unforgiving that his muscles cry out. Shivering a bit, he tries to lift his head, a task performed with great difficulty.

Scanning the room he is in, he finds it very unlike the Xin he knows.

 

More similar to what the southern barbarians closer to the Great Sun use, brick and mortared stone meets his eyes, crumbling and decaying edifices for walls.

In this small room, barely accommodating ten people, the queer lighting makes it impossible to know its true dimensions.

Various tables and shelves stand next to the walls, giving him the impression of a cloister repository, but the tables hold contraptions Adris doesn’t recognize. The walls are covered with parchment, tacked up and displaying unknown glyphs, and strange, childish drawings.

 

These normal details belie the hellish nature suffusing it, which matches his concept of an afterlife for sinners.

 

Where brickwork ends, great shell-like structures have grown through the wall itself. Pale white and speckled, a third of the room seems to be the sea bed rather than a residence.

The irregular walls and corners are asymmetrical, and the furniture itself is warped and knotted, the non-true nature of the room playing havoc on his spatial senses.

 

The most frightening feature though remains the moving darkness above him, skulking along the entire room.

Small and great woven strands of rich black move about, picking up and depositing various effects.

 

He traces them back to their origin, a sitting female with long hair, fuller than even Serras’.

 

She wears a strange, blue overcoat with long sleeves, which hangs loosely open draped upon her. Her pale neck is covered by a reddish kerchief.

When she turns towards him, she wears an ankle-length, red slitted skirt with a red bodice for her top. A sensual, black leather wrap with ties meets over these layers.

The style of her clothing is unlike any Adris has witnessed or heard of. It’s too sexually charged to be casual, intentionally designed to bring one’s eyes to her curves. Even a courtesan would fail to dream up this loose style, much less wear it willingly.

When she gets up and paces about on her exquisite legs clad in black stockings, Adris hears slippers scrape the floor.

The glossy hair is possessed of its own life, still wicking about the room as if it’s tasting it.

 

She would be cute, except for a serious flaw…

 

(… She is personally disgusting.)

 

Curled upward like a snarl, her expression is that of a woman who openly dismisses others and believes only in her own superiority.

Her fair features are ruined by this demeanor, as is his impression of her femininity, with her clothing slovenly worn and obviously dirty.

She perfectly brings to mind his trashy, older roommate from his youth in the cloister. The man had spent months convinced that the secret to success with females was to upset the natural order and cast down the “heathen” elder scholars, becoming the wisest of all.

 

All the man had upset was the stomachs of anyone within smell of him.

 

She chatters to herself at times in her repulsive voice while examining parchment, her tone every bit the match to the man’s own porcine one.

Turning suddenly to stare at Adris, he closes his eyes and resumes his previously unconscious posture.

 

(It’s a… monster? Then this is hell? I need to find a door.)

 

Though still empty, a new, growing sense of danger drives Adris to act.

 

A door wasn’t within view, the only indication of a possible one being a strange, shell-like panel on the wall with crystals embedded into it. The spot next to it was devoid of furniture.

 

Adris feels swishing over him, suddenly.

 

(If I can’t understand this thing, I can’t defeat it.)

 

Thinking of the language being spoken, he tries to match it to any he knows. He wills himself to remember even the closest match to this language, but none of the tones sound correct.

 

The horrible feeling returns, his aura going torpid, before rushing to his left hand. When it washes back through his body, his mind buckles from the alien feeling accompanying it.

His thoughts are attacked all at once, something now actively latching onto his thoughts.

Adris wretches at this assault, being brought out of his stupor by the ensuing pain.

 

“Oh, oh, oh, a strange reaction? Did something go amiss? Impossible. My sublime existence can’t make a mistake, fufu.”

 

The ugly voice that he hears… suddenly becomes intelligible.

Accompanying the voice focusing on him, tickling sensations can be felt with more vigor to them, brush-like touches at multiple points of his body.

Her voice is somehow worse, now that Adris has confirmed her rotten personality.

 

(Bare skin?)

 

Adris feels shock, the hair on his groin and armpits forcing the unwelcome realization.

 

“A temporary reaction to the serum? The musculature must be settling in; though, it’s odd how this remains so large? Isn’t this strange for their stock? The statistics don’t support this. What size does she even like, again? Mother has never said~.”

 

The foul woman… grabs onto his dick with a ginger hand, pulling it gently to and fro as she inspects it while chortling.

Adris has never received this kind of disgusting molestation before.

 

“Arrived in poor condition, but the stock is niceeeee~. AAH, I’m so terribly brilliant. You know, the others weren’t even paying attention to you when you arrived, dragged in almost naked by the collection crews.”

The repugnant voice seems to be directed at Adris, but him being supposedly unconscious means she’s just bragging.

“Only my exquisite mind noticed the pearl hidden beneath your ugly shell.”

 

Adris feels emotion, now: anger at being belittled.

Even if he’s mostly broken after Serras destroyed his life, this abusive cretin is too irritating to possibly ignore.

 

But, even if he despises her, the sensation is… good.

 

The woman has a practiced hand. As he opens his eyes a bit to peek at her, he’s repulsed to see the self-proclaimed genius drooling slightly from scrunched lips, as she continues to leer at his crotch.

His thoughts muddle, caught between an unknown feeling of lust that is overtaking him and his nearly exhausted sense of self worth threatening to disappear if he allows her to continue.

 

(I don’t want this woman enjoying me.)

 

Adris resists this abuse in his mind, before the thought is swept aside by something else.

 

{There is a difference to her actions-}

 

The alien feeling in his body flexes as his thoughts diverge, a brief flash of an image in his mind, a thought of foreign origin.

 

“Where are you from, little experiment~? I want to know.” She moves her fingers along his rapidly engorging dick. “Oh, it’s functional? His physiology is recovering at a non-standard rate.”

Adris hears scribbling from somewhere as she continues.

The brush-like feeling becomes stronger as the woman’s hair starts floating over his body.

 

The smell of lust comes to Adris’ nose.

A lust that isn’t his.

 

“Uhu, it’s a bit impressive for his physique~.” A nasty compliment is given, before Adris hears scraping, and then the woman seems to sit down.

“There’s a stronger reaction than I’d anticipate?”

 

A sudden, stark silence punctuates her question.

 

 

“Is it purely physiological…?”

 

 

The hairs stop moving with this serious statement, her voice suddenly authoritative and measured, losing its disgusting nature entirely.

A businesslike tone, completely dissimilar from her earlier interest, sounds well practiced.

Adris goes completely still, willing his body to be dead.

 

As the woman continues to stroke him, slower than before but still unceasing, moments of silence pass.

 

“Seems like it~☆!”

A sultry feeling comes to her voice when it returns to normal, as the unsettling, wavering lilt of her voice continues to become more porcine.

 

Adris hears the movement of fabric.

 

“Uh… right. Could my brilliance required for such tests?” Though she sounds unsure, her hand, exquisite in movement, grips him slightly harder and increases in speed.

Adris, though he hates the woman’s personality, can’t help but feel a rising pleasure, as the muscles of his loins begin to contract in time with her movement.

 

“Ehe, it’s okay for the researcher to do a bit of her own work… ah~☆!”

A wet, squelching sound is heard as skin moves between fabric.

 

Adris opens his eyes with fearful curiosity, looking over to see the woman with face-covering hair lolling her tongue out, as though she doesn’t notice it escaping from her mouth.

She flicks the tip of her tongue, stroking his dick with more focus and concentration.

Hunched forward as she sits beside him, her hair quivers slightly, sending vibrations across the room. The pig scholar has one hand on him as the other is between a slit in her skirt, her arm moving slightly as the squelching noise from her crotch increases with regularity and loudness.

 

(Is this bitch… pleasuring herself to me?)

 

Adris is horrified, confused, and excited, in that order.

 

Only minutes before, he’d seemingly died in a burial chamber, betrayed by the only partner he’s ever had.

Now, a sow in a coat is fingering herself with great gusto, as she expertly rubs the full length of his dick. Her hand pays beautiful attention to the crown of his penis at just the right intensity.

Adris notices that he is breathing heavily at this stimulation, his own body betraying his mind as the wandering hair teasing his skin only further divides his concentration.

 

A thought comes to him from an unknown place, his head throbbing with its presence.

 

{The woman kneels, her head to the ground, his foot on her head, before he-}

 

“Hm, hmmm, ah, response is excellent~. Full extension and rigidity, even while unconscious. The smell…?” Her face comes right next to the head of his penis dripping liquid, as she…

 

Draws in a deep, animalistic breath.

Adris almost cringes, aghast as he is from the sight.

 

“Hah, hah, that’s, quite good for a human. What is that unique smell? AHH, I’m so brillia-ahhh!”

She bites her tongue in mid self-congratulation as her arm seems to shake, her unseen hand moving faster. “… smart! This is better than normal for appeal. Mother will be impressed, right~?”

 

Adris, unsure of who “mother” is, is left in despair as the woman continues to minister him.

While the pig continues to pleasure herself using him as a dish, Adris fights back the urge to aid in release.

He realizes, with great sadness, that he’s been backed up for two weeks since they’d escaped Soldon. Serras had… simply never been interested, and he’d never asked.

 

“UH, heheheeee, for a first try, my superior intellect nailed it~! Ah, that serum and the timing of this meat’s arrival… ah, it’s like [Fate] (ABSOLUTE DISCRETION OF THE FUTURE). The size of the body is just right, just like Mother loves~! Fairly tall when he came in… the actuals I don’t have, but I’d guess better than average.”

The woman talks to herself without stopping, a string of self-congratulations further enraging Adris at his misfortune being the source of her self-worth.

“Look how dainty you are, now~! If I can do this to all of the [Chosen] (SLAYERS), just think! Their jaunts into the Castillo will end in a single day! Rather than just disappearing after a while to raid again, they’ll come back as midgets barely capable of combat~! AH, I’M BRILLIANT!”

 

(Dainty. Why would I be dainty?)

 

Her words carry strange meanings as he listens to them. Words are becoming… self-explanatory in his own mind.

Adris’ body does feel foreign, as though there’s a difference in size. The flow of the aura is also off in such a manner.

 

(Has she used some aura weapon or technique on me?)

 

With the schlicking sound growing more pronounced, Adris is surprised by the patter of liquid hitting the floor.

 

“Hah, it’s been a while… I haven’t had any release. ALWAYS STUCK WITH THESE SUB INTELLECTS!”

She grips his dick harshly, though not harshly enough to crush it. Adris tenses at a shameful pleasure.

“Why should I fuck… ah… any of you~. I’m too good for it. I’m brilliant… all of you… are just beetles~! Ehehehehehe! Ahh!”

 

(What did this miscreant do!?)

 

Adris grows furious at his ignorance, truly caring for the first time since his arrival, as the woman quips “Scurry away, hehehe…” under her breath.

 

“Um… I shouldn’t… but…” She sounds mournful, then hopeful. “Maybe if I just… feel this… inside, I can get some better information on Mother’s tastes. Is it different if a woman does it with a kid~? I need to know for… making the serum better…”

Adris feels drool land on his body. “I haven’t had a penis inside of me in a bit~.”

 

A wet tongue is on his penis, a slurping on the head the only worthwhile contribution this woman has made to Adris’ plight.

An immense wave of unwanted pleasure strikes up into Adris.

 

Lust, rejection, and the alien need for dominance all wage against each other. Adris can’t think, as he feels three separate thoughts in his mind.

His body needs release, his sense of self wants away from her, but this…

 

… foreign feeling, of cold hunger for control, desires something else from her.

 

(What is this? I don’t want to have sex with…)

 

Her mouth is incredibly warm as she continues. She moves away after lubricating his cock with a swirling tongue.

 

“… Hah, I can’t handle… idiots. At least when they’re unconscious like this, I don’t have to worry about anything happening to me…” She sounds fearful as she speaks, though also tinged with a growing lust and some submerged desire. “N-no worries… I can take him, as small as he is… hehehe…”

 

Something she said before, suddenly clicks with Adris.

 

 

A kid.”

 

(A kid!?)

 

 

He throws his eyes open, lifting up his body to look down at himself.

 

He sees his body there, intact. Without wounds. And…

 

Significantly smaller.

 

 

He looks up to see the pig woman staring at him, her mouth open in shock. Her hand on his dick has stopped moving, but the woman’s hand in her dress hasn’t stopped at all, her dress shaking as she seems to increase in intensity while being watched.

 

Adris looks at his arms. His left hand is still…

 

Holding the cross.

 

He looks back to the woman, whose lips are starting to quiver a bit.

 

“Nwah, wah, what are…” She stumbles over the words. From his memory of Serras and their pleasures together, the woman is clearly very close to climax.

 

 

(She turned me into a…

 

… kid.)

 

With a spiring penis.

 

(How… dare…)

 

 

The image boldly storms into his mind. It kicks away Adris’ own thoughts, becoming all he can see.

 

 

{She supplicates herself before a figure holding a cross.}

 

 

Three thoughts all fuse: outrage, desire, and a hunger to dominate this fool.

 

His left hand aches as his muscles go numb, his body heating up when he feels an absence of control sweep over him.

 

Adris watches as his right free, right hand moves without him needing to think or act.

He grabs onto the woman’s hunched over head, her throat producing a stupid “DUFU!” sound when he yanks on her soft hair.

 

 

Something howls in his mind.

 

{This terrible woman is accepting a dick down her throat, willingly and happily. There’s no light in her eyes.}

 

 

He moves the pig’s face over his dick.

With her hair pulled back a bit, he can see her purple eyes, wide with uncertainty as she darts to look at him, and then back to his dick.

 

She tries to protest with moving lips –

 

Pig, let go of your resistance. Accept what you are and desire to be.”

A voice that sounds like Adris’, but ignores his own thoughts, issues a command.

 

Her mouth still open in shock, the woman’s face immediately goes slack with her lust and an absence of mind as he hears her breathe more heavily. Her tongue creeps out a bit from her lush, red lips, hovering over his dick.

Her hand is the only sound in the room as she slams her fingers into her own hidden, but obviously soaked, pussy. Her body is shivering as she speaks drunkenly.

 

“Hah, hah, I, have to serve…? Right? … Yeah? Of course! Are you going to… use me? … are you going…” She speaks haltingly, unsure of her own words, her eyes trembling as her spirit succumbs.

Something deep within her psyche is breaking out, let free by the command issued to her.

 

“… To mess me up? ♥”

 

The proud bitch speaks with a subservient voice. Her face flushes as she melts into her needy arousal, her eyes searching for permission.

 

Adris’ hand applies downward force, shoving her mouth onto his dick.

 

Adris’ dick goes all the way in to the hilt, the boy turning his body slightly to keep his dick from bending harshly, as he forces it down her now broken in throat.

The woman that was already close to orgasm makes a choking sound as her eyes roll back into her head.

 

A sound like a flowing stream can be heard while she spasms, as the air in the room gains a musty smell.

 

(… wait, stop.)

 

With the ensuing smell jolting him, Adris tries to gain back his conscious control. The absurdity of his actions and his revulsion make him realize something dangerous is upon him.

The alien images are removing his agency, directing his thoughts and ignoring his conscious desires. Only now does he realize how much is disappearing as he gives into them.

 

She gasps for air as he quickly yanks her off of his dick, her saliva going everywhere, while her nose runs onto her face.

Her wide eyes regain focus as she looks at him. The feeling of pain from his left hand momentarily lessens.

 

“Y—ghk… huh? What… Y-y-you… bastard… how dare you, to this brillia-GHK!”

She regains consciousness briefly when he pulls out, an accusation rolling arrogantly from her tongue, before her insult brushes away Adris’ attempts to regain control.

In response to her idiocy, Adris slams his dick back into her spiteful mouth, the rage he feels blowing away his mental discipline.

 

Adris spares her no mercy.

He continues pulling her head off and then slamming back in. The woman tries to breathe while he’s doing it, but only phlegm comes from her nose, a free route for air provided only when he withdraws.

 

(It… feels good…)

 

The image changes.

 

{The woman before him is a tool that follows him, offering its body when needed.}

 

Adris thoughts’ continue to darken, as the lust grows.

The sound of her squelching mouth and choking is still matched by the beastly woman’s now resumed masturbation.

While the woman’s eyes are unfocused, both of her hands are in her skirt, dress pulled away so that Adris can see her rubbing her juicy hole. She slams her fingers into her narrow, pink cunt, intentionally putting it on display for Adris by spreading her legs further apart.

A fading consciousness quivers when the voice that’s not his speaks again.

 

You wanted this. I can feel it.” She twitches as Adris speaks, still slamming his cock into her. “Accept that your need is now mine, and let my will be yours.

 

Her unfocused eyes melt further at this proposal, with Adris picking up the pace, choosing to push all the way in and leave his cock lodged inside of her.

This attempt to punish her is met by her wrapping her tongue greedily around his cock, trying to milk it as her throat squeezes along his length.

 

(Ah, fuck, she’s actually impossibly good! This slut is far better than Serras. The only time that Serras would agree to do this was when she was drunk, and she had never been very good at it…)

Serras seemed… needy, but always inexperienced.

 

A dark image projects onto his thoughts when Serras comes to mind.

 

{Serras is thrown aside, a man standing over her. Rather than winning, she is beaten and bloodied. The man leaves her behind. She perishes, unneeded.}

 

It’s a tempting offer to Adris.

 

(… Not needing Serras… but still feeling pleasure… what is this? It’s completely logical, but it feels… strange.)

 

This spiteful and disgusting woman’s warm mouth and throat are a pure pleasure, a rare taste of something other than his partner.

He can’t help but compare it, even as something feels guilty about the flesh sliding over his length. Saliva from her drips down his skin, a raw contact with a woman other than Serras causing him to feel…

 

(Ah, fuck. Why does it feel good!? I don’t want anything to do with her! But… all I can think to do is… just grab her head and slam into her for eternity!)

Adris’ mind and body have different inclinations.

(… If her mouth is this good, then…)

He listens to the fingers working, the woman not stopping for a single moment as she seeks her own pleasure, too.

(If I can paint her throat… then I can also use her lower hole however I want to… fill it up with…)

 

Surrendering to the tightness and need, he turns a woman into a masturbation tool. He can feel his seed rising, making his prior rejection seem comical.

The woman’s attractive body overwrites the effect of her voice on him, now that it’s mercifully blocked. Even now, her hair is jealously clinging to Adris’ skin. Not seeking to stop him in any way, it only rubs against him, like a lover’s hands trying to urge stronger affection.

 

(… I don’t… want this thing.)

Even as he enjoys the pleasure, the fact that it’s with someone who is wrong is scratching at his mind.

(Being with another woman… even after everything, or rather because of it…)

Adris’ mind is starting to reject both the images and his lust.

 

The woman slobbers over him, drenching his groin with her saliva, her legs spread wide as she furiously abuses herself. Her mouth and throat are hollowed out by rapid thrusts, a disgusting, fleshy sound of slobbering and sucking removing all traces of pride from her.

Adris stops briefly. Her eyes lock onto him, surprised, yet still purely submissive.

Overriding his dismay, the voice speaks for him, knowing his own situation better than him.

 

Prepare. It’s going down your throat.

 

The woman tenses, but then a dopey smile comes to her face, even as her mouth is filled by him.

 

Adris’ body shows her no mercy, plunging a hard cock into her throat even faster and harder than before.

Her tongue can’t catch up with the thrusting to provide the pleasure it had previously offered. It is simply trodden upon by his dick on the way to scrape against her throat.

Going wild, her hair flails around stupidly like drunks in a tavern, unsure of what to cling to.

With one final slam, Adris puts his dick up to the base, as he exhales in release.

 

His balls constrict, his seed shooting up, exiting his dick to begin coating the woman’s throat in a torrent of his one-sided passion.

 

The sow convulses the moment she feels it in her throat, thick semen being pumped down into her needy stomach.

Her cup-able breasts twitch with her body’s jerking movement, her hands now shaking, as her voice box transfers a bestial growl that vibrates Adris’ penis. It enhances his pleasurable release, as she purrs in worship of the cock he is blessing her with.

The eyes Adris can barely see, a beautiful shade of purple for the irises, roll straight back into her head as she passes out from her own pleasure, Adris’ abuse, and the growing lack of air in her lungs.

 

Adris feels the woman go limp, quickly pulling her head off of his dick and releasing it, just in time for her to fall out of the chair.

Hitting her face on the examination table Adris is on, she falls brokenly to the floor.

He can hear her coughing and belching, her body struggling for air, and a strange whimpering sound rising after, as the woman lays in a puddle of her own urine and saliva.

 

Adris feels his own body rise up, independent of his will. The cross is before him, hauntingly powerful in his mind, as an image overwhelms his control.

 

{This woman’s mind is broken, as she licks his feet. Any order the man gives, she obeys without question. She slits her own throat when he commands it.}

 

Something tries to make him act.

Adris can’t tell what the action is, but it comes to his tongue even as he fights it back.

 

(So… just use them? If they don’t have a mind, it’s not necessary? What is necessary?)

 

Things he’s never considered before well up to fight against this logic.

 

Whatever you do, make sure it takes you to your goal, and not away. Besides, what do you care? You have a future to make. You can’t care about everything along the way…”

 

(I did that and died, Fatso. Your way of life was pointless. It wasn’t kinder, but I had a better way of living, most days…)

 

Even if he manipulates others, they still have a chance.

It is something he’s never considered: his games are fair, he can lose, and they are only enjoyable because he struggles for victory. If his prey are drones, it would be worthless.

Even if he ruins others who he thinks deserve it, they still have a chance to change their fate. He respects those who can resist him, even if he hates them for what they stand for.

 

(What I hate are the ones who just walk over people, people who could never win… Where is the fun in ruling? Won’t I be a monster like Jilahn? What’s the fun in making them cry if they don’t deserve it!?)

 

What am I? A tool or a partner?

 

(I don’t know, but at least I loved having a partner who had her own mind.)

 

Serras wasn’t a good person.

She was one that provokes in him many mixed feelings; but, she was also better as someone who disagreed with him, than she would’ve been as a mindless shell that obeyed.

Even if he manipulated her, she still resisted in her own way, and the contest was what was fun.

 

What was the point of having her if there was nothing inside?

The passion they’d shared was real. It had to be. That passion would’ve been meaningless without a mind.

 

(The enslaver is as empty an existence as the enslaved… Whatever our mutual hatreds, as a real person… a genuine one, she was a part of my life…)

 

And, more than that…

 

(If it wasn’t her choice, then there’s no point in punishing her!)

 

Contradictions play out: slightly noble thoughts struggling with much darker ones, doubt and havoc raging across his trained mind.

The struggle rolls into the path of the certain imagery trying to take over, the contradictions warring with its absolute purity of purpose.

 

The contradictions he feels… feel…

 

 

Powerful.

And there’s a feeling of purpose to them…

 

 

Another image arrives, quick and shaking.

 

{Adris holds the cross before him. Where it goes, he follows.}

 

The image tries to push out all of Adris’ other thoughts.

 

{The cross is before Adris, as both are on a tall dais. Adris is bowing to it. The people under the dais are legion. They all bow to the cross.}

 

It rips at his questions, trying to throw them away, to remove all doubts, as it compels him to obey.

 

A place deep in Adris breaks, a dam that releases an uncontrollable outrage.

This outrage meets the unnamed, alien, powerful feeling that was born with his doubts, bolstering it.

Feelings rise up, unspoken to anyone for nearly thirty years, becoming a weapon against a controlling force.

 

 

“FUCK YOU, THE ONE THING I DO CARE ABOUT IS DECIDING MY OWN LIFE!”

 

 

Adris fehl Dain abandons the role of [Nothing].

Instead, he resolves to discover a new identity.

 

Adris screams as he attempts to circulate all of his aura, directing it to his arm to intercept the foreign presence and reject it.

With Adris’ lust subsiding, he can think more clearly. He wrestles with this unknown domination, forcing it back, as deep as possible into the place that it comes from, willing it to be gone.

 

Reciting the cloister’s liturgy against self-possession, a spiritual exercise from his youthful studies designed to prevent one from being manipulated by their own out of control mentality, he tries a last ditch effort to clear his soul.

Mind and body both burn alive with the thing’s arrogance lashing back at him.

 

An image appears, before it’s ripped away.

 

{Adris is being killed, holding onto the cross as he bleeds out, all around him are butchering him…}

 

The image recedes with great anger.

Something within his mind snaps loose, the external presence forced out as it claws at his soul to remain.

 

Adris vomits dark blood, suddenly, and falls to his side.

He lays on the stone table, drained.

 

 

Before he passes out, he hears whispers, laughing at…

 

 


 

 

Adris lays still for a time after his climax. It has been a while, so the feeling, mixed with a suddenly intense headache, is overwhelming.

 

(What happened?)

 

The boy experiences a brief collapse of his memory, only the assault on the woman and the danger of what occurred still fresh in his mind.

 

(I can’t circulate my aura properly.)

 

Adris’ aura is even more wrong now, and it does not appear to be recovering with time.

In fact, he currently has less active aura than when he awoke.

 

But something of himself has returned.

He no longer feels as empty.

 

The pain of Serras’ betrayal is lessened, somewhat, and this new, hellish world awaits.

 

(… The one thing I do is endure. Same as always.)

 

The naked boy sits up on the table, looking around the room openly with the threat vanquished.

Adris realizes that the shells themselves are the source of the blue ambient light filling the space.

His lost height can’t be gauged due to the room’s bizarre dimensions, even while sitting at the table’s edge. Upon hitting the floor with his feet, he is unbalanced, the depraved scholar’s poison still affecting his muscles.

 

(I need clothes.)

 

The area contains odd glass vessels, strange spindles, and metal baskets with prongs coming off of them.

What look like familiar mystical character and aura device tools are arrayed everywhere; though, when he pulls a graving chisel out, he discovers it instead functions like a tuning fork.

A hell he finds himself landed in after dying seems oddly…

 

(Geared towards divining mysteries. Why does hell care about secrets? Isn’t evil all knowing, since it sees our hearts?)

 

Examining the standing shelves against the wall, Adris finds a familiar pack, last left beside the sarcophagus and seemingly carried with him into the afterlife.

Beside the pack is what’s left of his clothing and the remnants of his spear. The pack has been mildly damaged, but is usable.

Only his traveling cloak is wearable, soaked in his own blood. The spear…

 

Adris’ abdominal pain briefly resurfaces in this moment.

The memory of his anti-climactic fight against Serras dredges up all of his doubts and self-loathing. He pushes it from his mind, reaching for the scholar’s tools to avert his interest from dark thoughts.

Picking up a pointed tool of some sort, he thrusts it into the bolt catch of the spear head. Luckily, the bolt itself was thoroughly destroyed, coming loose and making it easy to push the remnants out. He applies a great deal of strength, wrenching the spear head free from the shaft.

 

The head itself is ruined, but still shines rainbow a bit beneath the blackened surface.

(I’m not leaving without something to remember by, and what’s within is still a useful rainbow star.)

 

He goes to put the cloak around himself, until he notices the smell of his dried blood is pungent.

Looking around, he finds a round, silver case full of some type of white-and-red feathers, as well as ground up powders and herbs nearby. They all have parchment pasted onto them, with hand drawn pictures of animals, plants, rocks, and creatures he doesn’t recognize.

The picture on the outside of the silver tube is a comical looking bird, one on fire.

He pulls out one the various powders, with it smelling of earthen salts, then rubs it on the cloak using a nearby rag until he can’t smell the blood over it. He shakes the whole time, the room quite cold and him still naked, the saliva of the female pig making his condition worse as it evaporates.

 

Affixing his clothing, he notes that the items here look expensive. He stuffs the better looking ones into his pack.

 

(If hell values things, then valuables are a start for survival. Now, I need to escape.)

 

He turns to look at the bare wall he noticed earlier. Stuck in the wall beside it is a metal dome, with crystals vertically piercing through it. He thinks to touch it, then decides not to.

 

(The Solar Ire sect had a similar contraption, one which only responded to aura circulated using their special vitality.)

 

At first considering breaking it with the cross he holds, he instead turns to the woman who is still passed out.

 

(She’ll be able to open it with something on her.)

 

He walks up to and bends down beside the woman, deftly searching through her clothing and along her body.

He finds small, loose papers in her great coat’s pocket, as legible as the parchment on the walls. The information seems to relate to a physical description of him, as well as notations and time-keeping, minutes that dictate her observances of him.

 

“[Ten-Turn] (RESOLUTION OF A SINGLE STRUGGLE) 16, [TURN] (RESOLUTION OF A SINGLE MOVEMENT) 5:

Fufu, Mister Meat is muscled, yet lean. His weight is 0.64 stones (BODY WEIGHT) under the expected total for his age. Ridiculous clothing and substandard weaponry indicate a warrior of considerable poverty. My esteemed brilliance anticipates equally substandard intelligence.”

 

Fighting back the urge to punch the unconscious bitch, Adris pockets the notes in his pack, then continues looking.

 

(What is a “turn?” Is this a unit of time-keeping? How does “resolution” relate to it?)

 

Underneath her coat, he finds a sample bandoleer strapped to her left side. There’s only one stoppered vial inside of it, greenish with purple streams coursing actively inside of it. Unsure of the utility of it, he leaves it for the moment.

Grabbing onto her breasts, he checks to see if she’s hiding anything in the small valley between them. His other hand pats her strong-smelling, damp crotch, feeling underneath her skirt and touching her slick lips by mistake, thinking that she could’ve hidden something at the side of…

 

… but, then he feels something grab onto him.

 

His eyes dart to his right leg.

Black hair has begun to creep around his leg as he squats, going taut an instant later.

 

Larger strands wrap around his right arm and his torso, yanking on him.

 

The gripping hair violently constricts him, leaving him gasping for breath. He directs his fearful focus to the woman lying under him, noticing two, bright purple eyes looking at him beneath the now moving hair.

 

“You… you vile creature.”

 

An authoritative and deep voice rises from her throat, full of dignity and rage.

Adris is pulled off the floor, gasping. The woman, still somewhat disheveled, struggles to stand.

When she gets up to look at him, he stares back in frustration, as she tries to clumsily pull her clothing back into a presentable state.

 

“How dare you! To this enlightened sage, you manhandled my divine ha-GHK!”

The woman goes into a coughing fit, putting her hand to her mouth as she heaves, before hacking up something.

 

“Huhh…?!” The woman looks down at what she spit out, saliva with a bit of white in it, then back up to Adris.

She tries to put on a strong face, but her pale skin grows red like a tomato.

 

They quietly examine each other.

The absurdity of the situation is too much for Adris. He feels something let loose, a feeling that this entire comedic tragedy is too much for him to maintain his sanity in without embracing the humor of it.

 

Adris begins to heartily laugh, as the woman’s face pales.

 

“Don’t even bother, you sow!” Adris says, smirking at her when she snarls. “After hearing you the whole time, well… that mannered, imperious fake voice of yours doesn’t sound threatening.”

Her face puffing up in rage, she starts shaking.

 

“You know, you declaring yourself a genius, before slobbering all over my cock like a needy whore, is faaaaaar scarier than being wrapped up in soft hair.”

 

The woman’s veins pop up on her face as she bares her teeth at him, before she reels Adris in closer.

 

“YOU… YOU MISCREANT! … SUB-INTELLECT! … MUTANT-DICKED!… MOUTH RAPIST!”

 

Adris does the only thing he knows will tip her over and make her lose control.

He sticks out his tongue at the woman, while winking an eye and tilting his head.

 

“’Dufu~☆’”

 

“KIIIIEEEE!”

The woman screams like a monkey, petulantly choking him with unskilled hands, her eyes two streams of tears.

 

While Adris begins to choke, his free left hand starts to wind up out of sight, taking advantage of their new closeness.

 

(I’m going to fry your brains like scrambled eggs.)

 

As Adris lifts the cross in his left hand to strike her, he feels his aura rush toward it, leaving him more breathless than the woman’s pathetic attempt to strangle him.

An image briefly assaults his mind.

 

{A man holds a cross. All before the cross bow to-}

 

Head reeling, Adris shuts his mind’s eye against the image.

Whispers from the shadows join in, as Adris feels something slipping away from him briefly before regaining control.

 

(What, what… is this?!)

 

He has no time to ponder it, as he swings the shining silver cross with all of his might, aiming for her head.

The woman, too caught up in her focus on punishing Adris, never sees it coming.

 

 

The sound of glass breaking and thunder peeling sounds out as it strikes, and blue light flashes at the point of impact.

 

 

The woman shudders and shakes at the strike, Adris feeling it transmit through the strands of her hair, which go slack all at once a moment later.

Her eyes roll back into her head for the third time today, as she immediately collapses like a puppet whose strings are cut.

 

There’s not even a last word from her as she crumples.

 

Adris collapses on top of her supple body, as she folds up under him.

Breathing with great pleasure after having no chance to, Adris’ accidentally drools onto the woman’s face as he stares at her.

Though resting on her body, she doesn’t move, even when he pushes off of her breasts in order to get up. Wondering if he has killed her, he puts his hand to her silky smooth neck under her kerchief.

There’s a pulse of life, but no reaction.

 

Adris looks at the cross he hit her with, then to where he hit her. Lifting up her hair, there’s only a red bruise.

There is a surety of one thing regarding it.

 

(This fucking thing is the cause of it all. The Emperor’s cross is a cursed aura tool!)

 

His grip tightens.

Every time his aura flows into the cross, a bizarre benefit arises from it; but, his aura also never returns returns the same way it left, leaving an unknown presence to strengthen in response to the gift.

 

Adris stalks off from the woman, her face frozen in realization of her own stupidity, as he looks at the potion he pulled out of her bandoleer.

He sees that only half of the potion is still in it. Wanting to know what the potion is, he goes to where the woman was working, his eyes searching the mismanaged documents as he sorts them for her.

They detail formulas he can’t comprehend, even with Fatso’s generous instructions on herbology and toxins.

The surprising part is that, in addition to being able to understand the monster, he can also read all of her writing, despite recognizing that the characters should be unknown to him. Even dissimilar kinds of characters seem to have the same prose.

 

The legible information is…

 

Mother is looking for a way of acquiring younger boys in greater numbers, but also wants to solve the threat of the Chosen. A sublime wisdom arrives at the obvious solution: why worry about them being young when they get here, and if they leave young, then how are they a problem? Kehehehe~!

 

Adris shakes in fury, turning around to race over to the unconscious woman.

He stomps on her face with his foot, but all she does is make a “ghk” sound as he grinds his foot on her nose.

 

(I am not a test subject, you bitch!)

 

Taking his foot off, he walks back to the notes.

 

It was a flash of brilliance, streaming from my star-like mind~! SPARKLE! Out of the twenty-three experimental batches I prepared this morning, I produced results in one of them… though I can’t figure out why. Because I have issues with remembering exact quantities, the formulas listed here preserve my success!

 

When I remember which one this sample is from, I can begin full scale testing! Until then, I have to try the concoction in a live test~! Luckily, today is ‘Free Access Day’! These simpletons will lick my feet when I march a kid through on a leash to be tasted by Mother!

 

AH, SCIENCE! I MUST KNOW~☆!

 

The next page is trivial minutiae, though something does stick out:

 

When my exalted mind sought to procure the phoenix (BIRD OF REVIVING FIRE) feathers for the essential youthening effect, it seemed unlikely I’d obtain them. Tempesta Universalis possessed the only full-blooded phoenix until it was nicked, and that windbag Tishia doesn’t share materials.

Even my intellect couldn’t predict that they would be available on the Narrow Line, the expanse’s black network, shortly after the bird was bagged. When I offered one of my supremely rare focusing matrices, the seller of course couldn’t refuse. Without a doubt~☆!”

 

Adris is stunned for a moment, as again a word he shouldn’t understand is accompanied by a general, mental understanding of the word.

 

(Is this, too, because of the cross?)

 

“As… luck would have it, there was a teeny, inconsequential feature added to the crystal. One of my divine hairs was layered into the finished product, reducing its output by a measly 12%, but brand is better than performance! When this genius used clairvoyance to search for it out of… curiosity, I followed the spell all the way to Neo-Askelon division’s area, where it was blocked…

 

This poor, oppressed visionary is content to leave this fact unmentioned to others, and with no further investigation. These two groups already plan to expand the war going on outside, and a beautiful researcher need not be a casualty of intrigue.

 

(Then don’t write it down, you moron!)

 

Adris’ face is blank as he finishes the note.

Looking to a small shelf containing bound books of notes, he sees that they’re all titled in various ways.

 

Grand Experiments of Sublime Importance: Vol III”

“… Importance: Vol X”
“… Vol XIV

 

Understanding now the woman’s pathetic vanity, Adris pushes it from his mind. Instead, he concentrates on odd words such as “clairvoyance” and “spells.”

These words seem familiar as possible aura technique terms, but the idea of a “spell” is superstition believed in only by unlearned peasants.

 

(These organizations, even though I don’t understand their definition, are accompanied by no further knowledge or understanding of their names. Perhaps only words with self-contained meanings allow for explanation?)

 

He quietly rolls up all of her research notes, taking down the parchments on the wall that seem related, and puts it all in his pack.

 

Walking over to the woman who now has a red nose, he contemplates that it doesn’t seem broken, even though he stepped on her quite hard.

Only a bit of bluish liquid leaks from a nostril, curiously evaporating as Adris watches.

Giving the idiot’s clothing one final try, he still doesn’t find any key.

 

(Okay, then we have one option.)

 

He picks the woman up by the arm and begins dragging her toward the wall.

Getting there, putting her arm against the crystals causes them to turn various colors with a soft hum, before all change to red. The wall ceases to be smooth with a single sound like a cracking nut, lines appearing in it, opening with a wet, slurching sound to slide out to reveal the unknown.

Pulling the woman out of sight of the door, Adris makes one last glance around the room, finding nothing else usable.

 

Before walking out, he kneels beside the woman.

He removes and straps her bandoleer around his chest.

 

Staring at her hateful face, he holds the cross with a white-knuckled grip.

 

(… You, more than anyone, should drop dead.)

 

But bludgeoning her to death doesn’t solve the problem of needing to actively punish her.

Worse, Adris feels like something might grow stronger if he loses control of himself.

Instead of ending the life of the bizarre creature and possibly earning a more hellish punishment for the crime if discovered, Adris resolves to another path.

 

Opening her mouth with his hand, he unstoppers the vial and thrusts it into her mouth, inclining her head with his other hand to force her to swallow the concoction.

 

Adris lets her head drop with a thud after she finishes swallowing it and leaves the vial in her hand, so that anyone walking inside will believe that she drank it herself.

 

 


 

Characters:

Characters:

Name: Adris fehl Dain; “Mister Meat”
Race: Xin’El, Emperor’s Child (Human)
Sex: Male
Age: ?? – Young

Occupation: Crossbearer; Charlatan/Swindler; Xin’Reh (former); Soldier of Fortune (former); Bounty Hunter (former)
Discipline: Crossbearer – Cursed Aura User; Spear Veteran (former); Aura Warrior, School/Specialization: Self-Taught (former)

Powers:

[Tool Savant] – “Adris is a tool-collecting-and-utilizing fanatic. Most men would consider him disgusting for loving tools more than his own partner. Has so many tools that it can be said to be his true power. What does he do when he has no tools left?”

[Unknown Cross Smash] – {A MAN STRIKES ANOTHER WITH SHINING SILVER. THE MAN WHO IS STRUCK SMILES, HIS MIND AWAKENED.}

[Unknown Protection from Poisons/Compelling] – {A MAN WALKS, HIS STEPS UNWEARIED AND RESOLUTE. NONE CAN STOP HIM.}

[Unknown Communication Assistance] – {THE MAN HAS NO DIFFICULTY SPEAKING TO THOSE WHO ARE ALL DISSIMILAR. HE UNDERSTANDS THEIR SUPPLICATIONS.}

[Unknown Mental Domination] – {A MAN DEMANDS. THOSE WHO HE DEMANDS OF, OBEY.}

 

Disposition: Defeated / Adaptable / Sinner
Alignment: Chaotic

Eyes: Black
Hair: Black, with strands of White
Skin: Tanned

Statistics:

R-Value – “Please load additional feature.”

 

Beauty:

C-Value – “If all men looked like him, it might not be odd for women to think that the gods had painted the world in only the drab color brown? While not ugly, would he not exemplify the idea that ‘normal’ is perhaps indistinguishable from ‘undesirable’?”

“Does missing half of your body increase the rarity of what remains, thereby increasing its inherent beauty?”

“Being a child again, can you see the difference that being an adult adds? No longer possessing the work put into improving features, will Adris understand that being plain as a child lacks the poise and stature of adulthood? Even as an older boy, isn’t it hard to be… ‘dashing’?”

Description:

“A rather plain-looking man wearing traveling robes, what he carries hidden is far more dangerous than his appearance lets on. A disarming smile, leads to you being suckered. A clever tongue, leads to your sorrow. Possessing quick wit and intellect, hubris and arrogance are certain to follow. Well known across the floating islands of Xin, but not by name, only by reputation. Owed many favors, but not with great joy, and certainly not love. The only person he seems to care about other than himself is his lifelong partner.”

“It can be said that Adris has done a lot of things in his life. Good, bad, evil, and unkind, all of what he has done has been done with the assumption that he will never have to worry about heaven or hell. Now that he’s lost the only thing he’s ever cared about, what is left? Perhaps he will get his chance to discover what it means to be free?”

“Turned into a kid again, how is Adris handling this? Thrust into a dimension beyond his ability to cope with, especially after being abandoned by Serras and murdered, only his attachment to his own sense of self… or finding it again, is driving him. Now that he is young, he can only survive by his wits, seeing as his aura has been taken from him. Will he succumb to his thirst for female flesh? Will this cross claim his mind and make him its meat puppet?”

Commentary:

“Cast into another world, now we get to find out who the true Adris is, starting at page 1. It’s always interesting to see what happens when a person’s world is turned inside out. How can a guy from another world truly be expected to survive in one he knows nothing about? Isn’t it more interesting if the odds are stacked against him?”

 


Name: ???
Race: Hair Monster / “Sow”
Sex: Female
Age: ??

Occupation: Scholar (dispossessed)
Discipline: Genius (Self-Professed)

Powers:

[Hair Manipulation] – “Has the power sufficient to pick up objects and bind things with her hair. Her hair operates independently of her thoughts, but it’s not always smart. Seemingly cannot intercept the attack of someone right next to her. This is probably related to how focused she is on something at hand, as her emotional state impacts her ability to her user hair.”

 

Disposition: Self-aggrandizing / Scatterbrained / Piggish
Alignment: Chaotic

Eyes: Purple
Hair: Black
Skin: White

Statistics:

R-Value – “Please unlock me, Adris~.”

Beauty:

C-Value – “While she is outwardly beautiful in the manner of a cool and pretty older sister, isn’t being slovenly a sort of immense turnoff? Her own voice will drive people away, perhaps leading to the desperation she feels? Still, if your only choice is your hand or her pussy, it might be worth dumping a load in her just to see how it feels?”

Description:

“A slob, to the core. Scatterbrained and pompous, she is the epitome of the researcher who believes she is far smarter than others, but cannot actually invent something because of how pathetic she is. Adris cumming down her throat would be the highlight of her career within recent memory. Still, she is intelligent, in her own way, and creating a youthening potion like she did is something to be commended. If it was used on her, what would happen?”

Commentary:

“She’s just too tsundere to admit that she wants to be pounded, and Adris is too disgusted to give it to her. I sometimes wonder if he should’ve mating pressed her on the way out. Perhaps the future holds opportunities for her to display just how dumb she is before he does so?”

 

Glossary:

 

Fate – “Absolute discretion of the future. This is what defines the future of those who are bound to it. The only way to avoid it…? Don’t be bound.”

 

Chosen/Slayers – “Those who storm the Castillo; the fighters from outside who the Castillo stands against.”

 

Wondrous Works – “The organization which runs the strange dimension that Adris finds himself in.”

 

Mother – “The entity which commands utmost respect within the Wondrous Works, and leads it. A direct subordinate of the Alchemaster. A creature which cannot be human, and is dangerous for humanity.”

 

Phoenix – “Bird of reviving fire, the creature responsible for the essential ingredient of the potion that Adris is afflicted by.”

 

Tempesta Universalis – “The organization that owned the phoenix.”

 

Neo-Askelon – “An organization that stole the phoenix.”

 

Narrow Line – “An underground black network within the Works, which claims that it can obtain anything you desire, for the right price.”

 

Spells – “The aura of the new world? What is a spell? How does one explain it…”

 

Chapter 2         Table of Contents          Chapter 4