The moment my body registered the change, I could feel the difference. My muscles no longer screamed with the kind of agony that made me question whether I'd ever walk again. No, the dull throb of pain had disappeared completely, and I felt… stronger. Freer. More like myself than I had in weeks.
The bandages that had been wrapped around me like some half-assed mummy were the first things I noticed. There was no reason to keep them on now that I was fully healed, so I tore them off, throwing them carelessly aside as I sat up. My bones weren't screaming in protest anymore, and I barely noticed any of the stiffness from the beating I had taken. Hell, even my ribs felt almost perfect.
I flexed my hands, rolling my shoulders and stretching my back as if nothing had ever happened. This is what I'm talking about. Fucking miracles from the system, I thought with a cynical smile.
"Alright, let's see what I've got."
I stood up, still testing my strength. No dizziness, no shakiness. I was good. Better than good, actually. The system had restored my health, sure, but it had also given me something else—power. A sort of untapped potential, like the floodgates had been opened.
I wasn't just healed; I was stronger than before. And for the first time, I found myself grateful for the system.
Laying on the small table beside the bed was a set of clothes—nothing fancy, just something the village chief's wife must've left for me to wear. They looked simple enough, but I couldn't ignore the way the leather gleamed in the low light. There was something about it, a weight to the fabric, something that screamed "function over form."
But what really caught my eye was the armor beside it, folded neatly. I reached over and picked it up, running my fingers along the smooth, black leather. The moment I touched it, I felt a faint hum. No, not a hum. It was more like a pulse. It wasn't anything magical, at least not in the traditional sense. This was just... different.
The armor was light. Almost too light for how durable it looked. The black leather was reinforced with dark-red stitching, woven in a pattern that almost seemed to shift under my fingertips, like the armor was made to adapt, move with me. The chest piece was sleek, covering the upper half of my torso and wrapping around my shoulders, leaving the arms free. The red markings on the leather seemed to glow faintly in the dim room. No, it wasn't glowing, not really. But it had this energy, this... presence.
I pulled the armor on, feeling the immediate comfort as it adjusted to my body. It was like a second skin, soft yet protective. It fit me perfectly. I ran my hands over it again, admiring how it molded to my form. It felt like I was wearing nothing at all, but at the same time, it felt like I was covered by a fortress.
Okay, maybe the system's not so bad after all, I thought as I marveled at the ease of movement it allowed me. I was used to armor that weighed you down and made you feel like you were walking in molasses. This? This felt like I could run through a damn battlefield without breaking a sweat. The system might just have redeemed itself for this one.
Next, I turned my attention to the Black Blade—still resting in its scabbard on the side table. I eyed it warily, almost like it was waiting for me to take it up. The scabbard was as dark as the blade itself, streaked with faint red veins that pulsed when the light hit them just right.
I reached out and gripped the scabbard, testing its weight. It looked heavy, but manageable. I was wrong. The moment I tried to lift it, the damn thing didn't move. I grunted, pushing harder, trying to get the damn blade out. The weight of the sword was like nothing I'd ever encountered. It was as if the blade was anchored to the ground.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I muttered under my breath, my arms shaking from the effort.
I didn't back down. Using my ki, I channeled energy into my arms, my body bracing for the power I knew I could summon.
And then, without warning, the sword lightened.
It wasn't a gradual shift, it was instant. The sword went from heavy as a damn anchor to lighter than air, almost too light. I blinked in surprise as I felt it slip from my hands—my grip too eager, too fast.
"Shit!" I cursed as the sword flew out of my hands, spinning through the air in slow motion, before I managed to snatch it mid-flight.
I pulled it from the scabbard, and that's when I felt it. The hum. The vibration in the air, the subtle pulse of energy that thrummed through my body as soon as I held the Black Blade. The blade itself was smooth, like liquid metal, but the moment my fingers gripped the handle, I could feel something else. It was like it was alive—waiting—but it wasn't intimidating. It was... comforting.
The handle was sleek, with dark, almost blood-red accents running along its length. The blade itself was sharp, black—as if it had been forged from the very essence of night itself. It was strange. I could feel my ki pooling into it like it was feeding off me. The hum got louder the more I concentrated.
"Alright, what the hell is this?" I muttered, inspecting the blade. "What's with the weight? Why does it feel like it's... my ki?"
I tried to reason it out. Maybe it was enchanted, like the armor. But then a flash of doubt hit me—I don't have any mana. That couldn't be it.
Whatever the hell it is, I'll figure it out later. For now, I'll just enjoy having a badass weapon.
I swung the sword a few times, marveling at how easily it flowed with my movements. The lightness was deceiving—it was like an extension of myself. Focused. I couldn't shake the feeling that this blade was going to change things for me.
But right now? Right now, my stomach was giving me far more immediate concerns.
I stepped out of the room and into the modest house. The space was plain, the walls slightly cracked, the wooden beams a little too old for comfort. Still, it was warm, the smell of something cooking filling the air.
I spotted the chief's wife, along with her daughter—the one I'd rescued. They were seated at a small table, talking quietly. The daughter gave me a grateful smile, and I couldn't help but return it, though it was awkward. Then I noticed Cole, hunched over a set of documents at the far side of the room, clearly busy.
"Well, well, look who's up," Cole said with a raised eyebrow, glancing over at me. His voice held a mix of surprise and amusement. "Wasn't expecting you to recover that fast."
The chief's wife stood up from the table. "I was just about to bring you some food," she said kindly, though there was a hint of apology in her voice.
I cracked a grin, shrugging. "Used some recovery magic on myself."
Cole raised an eyebrow. "That kind of magic's rare," he said, eyeing me curiously. "To rebuild broken bones and all that."
I grinned, lying through my teeth. "Potions, a little magic, and a whole lot of willpower. Nothing special."
I inwardly smirked. God, I'm such a good liar.
My stomach growled loudly, cutting off any further conversation. "Anyway, I'll have my food now. I'm starving."
I took a seat next to the girl, who looked at me with wide eyes, her expression full of gratitude. "Thank you again for saving me... and the others," she said, her voice soft but sincere.
"Yeah, yeah. No need to thank me," I muttered. "But damn, you recovered fast for someone who was in that kind of condition."
Cole chimed in. "Well, you were out for a whole week. You were unconscious for a while, actually."
I froze. "A week?!" I almost choked on the word.
Cole nodded. "90% of your bones were broken. You didn't exactly bounce back in an hour, you know."
I could barely process what he said. A week? No way. That didn't make sense. But then, it did—time here was longer. The days were 30 hours long.
I did the mental math in my head, trying to make sense of it. The extra hours added up to nearly a full day and a half more than Earth's time. So I was technically out for 8 or 9 days on Earth. Fuck, no wonder I feel like I've been in a coma.
I couldn't shake the discomfort in the pit of my stomach. A week? Hell, even that didn't make sense. How had time flown by so quickly? It felt like I'd just closed my eyes for a damn second before waking up in this weird, awkward situation. But then again, it wasn't the time discrepancy that bothered me the most.
It was the hunger gnawing at me, demanding satisfaction. **Actual food.** Something decent.
I glanced over at the girl—**the chief's daughter**—sitting at the table beside me, her eyes still full of gratitude. "So, uh… what's your name?" I asked, wanting to break the silence, if nothing else. Her expression softened as she met my gaze.
"My name's **Ava**," she said, her voice gentle, though her cheeks were still flushed from the events. She gave me a small smile. "Thank you again for everything."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, not really knowing how to respond to all the gratitude. "I do what I can."
I could already feel the weight of my **body's need** pressing in on me—the **desire** to forget about the chaos of the past few days. I had just finished a life-or-death mission, fought a **goddamn Goblin Chief**, and somehow survived, and now I was standing here in some random village, ready for a damn meal. But my **mind** was elsewhere.
It had been **months** since I'd been with a woman, and after the mission, the release I craved was more about **stress relief** than anything else. I had my fair share of women in the past, but right now, the idea of lying in a bed and **escaping my own head** felt more appealing than anything.
"Hey, Ava," I began, shifting in my seat as I casually addressed the girl next to me, "do you think the **chief** and your mother would mind if I laid with you tonight?"
There was a brief moment of silence as I let my words settle in. The other two at the table froze, their eyes wide. **Ava** blinked at me, a little unsure how to respond, while the **chief's wife** stared at me, clearly trying to process what I just said.
I wasn't about to sugarcoat anything, and given the tension in the room, I figured honesty might just be the quickest route to what I needed. I cleared my throat, leaning back casually in my chair.
"I haven't been with a woman in months, alright? I'm just looking for a little… relief. Nothing serious," I added, almost to myself.
Cole, who had been flipping through some documents in the corner, stopped dead in his tracks. The words clearly shocked him, but he kept quiet, observing the situation silently.
The chief's wife stared at me, clearly flustered by the bluntness, but she didn't immediately speak. Her fingers twitched, but she didn't interrupt. It was then that the chief entered the room, his strong, steady presence filling the doorway.
The moment the chief stepped inside, his eyes immediately went to me and then shifted to his daughter, still seated beside me. There was a tense silence as he looked from one to the other.
"You… you wish to lay with my daughter?" The chief's voice was deep, but laced with a tinge of disbelief and anger. "Just after you've saved her life? After we've just received her back?" His words had a rough edge, but they weren't entirely hostile. It was clear that he wasn't just angry—he was caught between emotions.
I shrugged, meeting his gaze with the same casual indifference that had gotten me through countless awkward situations. "It's been months since I've been with a woman. I fought through hell to save your people, and now I'm just asking for a bit of relief."
The chief's face grew taut, his jaw tightening. He looked down at Ava, then back at me, as though weighing the situation carefully.
"I understand your needs, but what about responsibility?" he asked, his voice hard but not unkind. "This village has enough problems, and my daughter has already been through so much. It would not be easy to find a man for her now. She's already been through… what she's been through." His eyes darkened as he spoke the last part, clearly acknowledging her past struggles.
I stared at him for a second before answering. "Look, I'm not here for anything permanent. I'm not trying to claim your daughter as some prize. I just need relief, something to ease the tension of everything that's happened."
I wasn't going to sugarcoat it anymore. I'd never been good at lying about this kind of thing. At least now, the chief knew where I stood.
Before the chief could respond, Ava spoke up, her voice soft but clear. "Father, I don't mind," she said, meeting his gaze. "He saved my life. He's done so much for us. This is the least I can do."
The chief's expression faltered for a moment, and then, with a heavy sigh, he reluctantly agreed. "I cannot say this is what I had hoped for… but I can't deny the truth of it. You did save my daughter's life and kept the village safe. Perhaps it is the least I can allow." His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the decision crushed him. "But know this, Kaizen—you must take **responsibility**. A man who does not will only bring dishonor."
Chapter 7: Thanks But I want To Fuck
The party was in full swing by the time the sun dipped below the horizon. It seemed like the whole village had come out to celebrate the return of the women, and while I appreciated the gesture, the whole thing felt a little... excessive.
They'd gathered around a large bonfire in the center of the village, a feast spread out on every available surface. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the stench of sweat and cheap ale. The women—those who had been rescued—were laughing and dancing, as were the men. It was a scene straight out of some festival, all smiles, song, and merriment.
'And all I wanted was a goddamn meal that didn't taste like cardboard.'
I made my way over to the long table where the food was piled high, a huge slab of meat that had been cooked to perfection catching my eye. There was some kind of wild boar spit-roasting over the flames, its skin golden and crisp, with juices dripping onto the hot coals. I grabbed a plate and stuffed my face like a man who hadn't eaten in days—which, for all intents and purposes, I hadn't.
The villagers were practically falling over themselves in their gratitude. It wasn't just the chief's wife coming up to thank me; it was everyone. They were all so fucking grateful I almost wanted to scream. I could barely keep the fake smile on my face as they poured drink after drink into my mug, clinking it to mine like I was some sort of hero.
'Yeah, sure, I'm a hero. Real fucking humble of me, isn't it?'
At least the alcohol was better than the food. Strong, like something brewed with the soul of a hangover. I downed the mug in one go, gritting my teeth as the burn slid down my throat. The alcohol did its job, though. It kept my mind off the incessant parade of gratitude.
The evening carried on like that. The men were loud and boisterous, telling stories of battles and hunting, while the women danced around the fire, their movements like flames themselves. I stood to the side, watching it all unfold, my arms crossed as I leaned against a barrel.
I hated these kinds of celebrations. Hated being the center of attention, hated the constant thank-yous. I didn't save them for the applause. I saved them because I fucking had to.
Still, I couldn't deny the way my stomach felt better with each passing moment. The meat was tender, the ale stronger with every sip, and by the time I was three drinks deep, I finally allowed myself to relax. They weren't going to stop thanking me, so I may as well enjoy the damn food, right?
After what felt like hours of half-hearted celebrations, a familiar voice called my name.
"Kaizen!"
I turned to see Cole, his face serious as he made his way over, still clutching the papers he'd been scribbling on earlier. "Hey, man, you feeling alright?" he asked, his tone a mix of concern and amusement.
"I'm feeling fine," I grunted, finishing the last of the boar meat on my plate. "Just tired of listening to all the 'thank yous.'"
He chuckled, leaning in a little closer so no one else could hear. "Well, I got something to tell you. All the women? They were healed by the church's magic. They're completely cleansed."
I raised an eyebrow. "Cleansed, huh? What does that mean? They all feel... better or something?"
"Yeah, well, magical healing works wonders. Everything—physically, emotionally, mentally—they're all healed. That's what the church does."
I let out a deep breath, finally feeling the tension leave my shoulders. Good to know the women weren't carrying any lasting damage. Sure, I'd saved their lives, but I didn't want them dealing with the psychological scars of being touched by those damn goblins. Not for any longer than necessary, anyway.
As the night dragged on, the party continued. Songs rang out under the full moon, and people danced in wild circles, celebrating everything from the return of the women to the simple joy of being alive. If I was being honest, it was probably the first time in months I felt like the world wasn't falling apart.
I wasn't interested in the endless rounds of thank-yous anymore, though. I was just here for the food and the alcohol.
I spotted Ava standing off to the side, watching the crowd with a distant expression, her body still as the revelry swirled around her. The warmth of the bonfire lit her face, but there was something unreadable in her gaze. She wasn't part of the celebration like the others. It wasn't just a physical distance, but an emotional one too.
I approached, my boots crunching on the dirt as I made my way over to her. When she saw me, she didn't look away, but there was a slight shift in her posture—like she was bracing herself for something.
"Not dancing?" I asked, leaning against a post next to her, careful not to crowd her space.
She shook her head, eyes still on the fire. "I can't," she said softly, almost apologetically. "It's... too much."
"I get that," I replied, my voice low. "Everyone's so damn grateful, it's almost suffocating. A little too much 'thank you' for my taste."
She smiled, but it was brief—more like a reflex than genuine amusement. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.
"I don't know how to thank you," she said, her voice small now, as if she was still trying to process everything that had happened.
I took a breath, watching her for a moment. She was still hesitant, but there was something in her eyes, something that said she wasn't quite sure whether this was the right choice. But she had agreed earlier. This was her decision, even if she didn't fully understand the consequences of it yet.
I stepped a little closer, but not too close. "You already did. But as we discussed before. You know what's next."
Her eyes flickered to me, her expression unreadable for a long moment. There was a visible tension in the way her shoulders hunched, as if the weight of her decision had just hit her. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to reconsider.
Finally, she exhaled a shaky breath, barely audible. "I... I agreed. But it feels different now. You're a stranger."
I nodded, understanding that well enough. "Doesn't matter. We're both just looking for a little... release tonight. I'm not expecting anything more."
Her hesitation lingered, but after a few moments of quiet, she finally nodded, almost imperceptibly. The shift in her posture told me she was still unsure, but she had made up her mind.
"Come on then," she said, her voice quiet but firm, as she turned toward the small house at the edge of the village.
I followed without another word, the silence between us thick, but not uncomfortable. She was still a little reluctant, I could tell. But the decision had already been made, and now it was time to see it through.
The walk back to the chief's house was quiet. Too quiet. I could hear the distant hum of the village celebrating behind us, the clinking of mugs and the off-key singing of drunkards fading into the night. Ava led the way, her steps slow and hesitant, her head lowered like she was deep in thought.
The awkward silence hung between us like a heavy cloud. She hadn't said a word since we'd left the firelight, and it was starting to get to me.
"So," I said, breaking the silence, "do you always drag strangers back to your house, or am I just lucky?"
She flinched, glancing at me over her shoulder. "I... I don't usually do this," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I've never done this."
'Great. That makes two of us.'
"Don't worry," I said, forcing a grin. "First time for everything, right?"
She nodded but didn't respond. The silence came rushing back, suffocating and unbearable.
I racked my brain for something—anything—to talk about. I couldn't let this walk be nothing but awkward tension and the sound of our footsteps crunching on the dirt path.
"So... uh... what's it like living here?" I asked.
She glanced at me again, her expression still guarded. "It's quiet," she said softly. "We're far from the big towns, so we don't get many visitors. Most days, it's just farming, cooking, and taking care of the animals."
"Sounds... peaceful," I said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "You don't get bored?"
"Sometimes," she admitted, her tone a little lighter now. "But it's all I've ever known."
I nodded, feigning interest, while my mind scrambled for something more to say. I needed to steer this conversation away from anything that might give me away. The last thing I needed was her asking questions I couldn't answer.
"What about you?" she asked suddenly, her eyes darting up to meet mine.
'Shit.'
"Oh, you know," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "Traveling, fighting monsters, trying not to get killed. The usual."
Her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. "Where are you from?"
'Double shit.'
"Far away," I said quickly. "You wouldn't know it."
She tilted her head, curious now. "What's it like there?"
I hesitated, my mind racing. I couldn't just say Earth, obviously. She'd think I was crazy—or worse, she'd start asking even more questions.
"It's, uh... it's nothing special," I said, pulling a random lie from the depths of my brain. "Lots of mountains. Hot. People aren't as friendly as they are here."
"That sounds... lonely," she said, her voice softening.
I shrugged, trying to look casual. "Eh, you get used to it."
She didn't press further, which was a relief. But I could tell she was still trying to figure me out, trying to make this less uncomfortable for both of us. She's just trying to get to know me. Probably thinks it'll make what comes next easier.
The thought made me smirk, but I kept it to myself.
By the time we reached the chief's house, the village was quiet. The building was a little bigger than the others, but not by much. It was simple, made of rough-hewn wood and stone, with a thatched roof that looked like it could use some repairs.
Ava hesitated at the door, her hand resting on the latch. She glanced back at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes full of nervous energy.
"This is it," she said quietly.
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "After you."
She opened the door, and we stepped inside. The interior was just as modest as the exterior. The main room was small, with a table and chairs pushed to one side and a fireplace crackling softly on the other.
"This way," Ava said, leading me down a short hallway to a small room at the back of the house.
Her room was simple—just a bed, a wooden chair, and a small chest in the corner. The walls were bare, the air faintly scented with herbs. It was... functional. Nothing fancy, but it suited her.
She stood by the bed, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her eyes fixed on the floor. Her shyness was almost palpable now, and I could feel the weight of her nervousness pressing down on the room.
The door clicked shut behind us, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint crackle of the fire in the main room. I stepped closer to her, closing the distance between us in a few slow, deliberate steps.
She glanced up at me, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked like she was about to say something, but I didn't give her the chance.
I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, and pulled her in.
Her breath hitched as I tilted her chin up, our faces inches apart. I could feel her trembling slightly, but she didn't pull away.
"Relax," I murmured, my voice low and steady.
And then I kissed her. Our lips touched but her mouth remained closed. As expected she was still hesitant, nervous.
I pulled away and looked into her eyes. The hesitation was still there although she looked more sure of herself. I leaned in once again, once again our lips met. This time I stuck out my tongue, forcing her mouth slightly open. Within that opening I pushed in deeper that she instinctively stuck out her own tongue into my mouth. Her mouth tasted of the meat and alcohol she had been eating and drinking, same as mine. The lingering after take made the saliva exchange feel extra tasty. Our breathing became erratic, hurried. Her technique to be honest was something. Not to say the best I've had but not necessarily bad either. Somehow she knew how to push out her tongue just enough and not over extend it. Maybe her shyness and nerves made it that she wasn't too bold with it.
After a few moments of the intense and sumptuous kiss we separated. A line of saliva joining our mouths. Looking into her eyes she looked back at me with a dazed look.
'Good, she is ready.'
That was the last straw for me.
ความคิดเห็นย่อย
คุณลักษณะความคิดเห็นย่อหน้าอยู่ในขณะนี้บนเว็บ! เลื่อนเมาส์ไปที่ย่อหน้าใดก็ได้แล้วคลิกไอคอนเพื่อเพิ่มความคิดเห็นของคุณ
นอกจากนี้คุณสามารถปิด / เปิดได้ตลอดเวลาในการตั้งค่า
เข้าใจแล้ว