“Now, shall we continue?” Nijana asked.
“I do not want you to have my child,” Serzax said, shaking his head. “Averyl must be the one to bear it, not you.”
She suspected as much after remembering several entries from Averyl’s diary back on Faeheim. Wylume had made a big deal about impregnating her. Yes, to her understanding, they made a deal with Emperor Jaxin Autumnfall to get Averyl pregnant so that she would provide an heir to the throne. But they made that agreement with Wylume in mind to marry Averyl. He was dead now. Why did Serzax have to be the one to marry and impregnate her? And why were they in such a rush for it? Serzax seemed to care less about the marriage and more about getting Averyl pregnant. Serzax didn’t want just any woman. He wanted Averyl. Not even Nijana, someone who was Averyl just born in an alternate universe, was not worthy.
Nijana got on her fours, lifted her arse to him, and lowered her face to the pillow. She wiggled her behind back and forth and arched it up enough so that Serzax could look down and see her pink opening and swollen labia moistening.
“Are you sure you don’t want to continue?” she asked.
Serzax looked at her rear up in the air. She imagined he was looking at her moist cunt folding open for his pleasure.
“Earlier, you were against my cock entering you,” he said. “Now, you want it?”
“Circumstances have changed,” she said. “You’re a dark one like me and a member of my faction.”
He hesitated to take her offer, likely because he knew she wasn’t Averyl. Nijana looked behind her. Serzax just stood there holding his stiff prick, trying and failing to resist.
“C’mon.” She wiggled her arse again. “Don’t you want it?”
He grunted. “Fine . . .”
Serzax got on the bed with her, held Nijana’s arse with one hand, and used the other to guide his cock into her. It felt fucking good too. A long hard cock was inside her. She felt both his hands clasp her rear, as he rammed her. After a minute, he upped his cock-thumping speed. Nijana’s heartbeat sped up. He was fucking her and making her cunt leak its fluids to the bedsheet. Serzax wasn’t a lousy lover; he’d make an excellent companion while sailing the seas looking for more treasure and gold.
Serzax grunted. “I am going to come!”
Nijana reached between her legs, found her clit near her red bush, and rubbed it clockwise, making two rotations a second. Her climax was approaching.
“Don’t come yet,” she moaned.
“I will come when I please!” Serzax withdrew his erect penis soaked with her cunt’s fluids. “Like . . . right now!”
His prick squirted a steady stream of white and warm semen, drenching her back and wings with it. The rest dripped off the edge of her arse. Before Nijana could do anything else, Serzax grabbed a towel and wiped her pale and slender frame clean of his seed. He didn’t want to risk her getting pregnant, yet minutes earlier, he was ready to pump her full of his cum.
Averyl and I are the same women, just from different universes. It shouldn’t matter which one of us Serzax got pregnant. In the end, the child would be the same. Why does it have to be her and no one else?
“You pulled out,” Nijana said with a smirk. “Didn’t sound like you were going to do that a moment ago.”
“Averyl is special,” he said. “She is the key to creating a new class.”
Key to making a new class. Of course. Averyl’s children would be born as this new class. It has to be it. He plans to exploit that to reach the mythical human homeworld.
Nijana gave him a pleasant smirk, rolled onto her backside, and watched as Serzax retrieved his attire and armor. Serzax suited up and walked to the exit as she waved goodbye. He just grunted and left. Her plan worked. She learned that there was something special about Averyl, something that changed her blood just enough so that her children would be born as a new class.
Averyl’s necklace. The way how she described it in her diary made it sound like a soul crystal. Wylume and Serzax gave Averyl’s father the crystal necklace to give to her as a gift. It must have transformed her, and they knew it would happen.
And the best part of it all? Nijana’s plan to get him to talk got her laid, too.
Chapter Fifty-One
Guy sat on a fallen tree out in the middle of the Plains of Alita. He took a minute to catch his breath and used his wrist to wipe away a buildup of sweat. After that, he examined his Status screen.
Guy Sutherland
Class: Spell Lancer LVL 17
Subclass: Paladin LVL 8
HP: 693/713
MP: 401/470
AP: 100/100
LP: 8/10
EXP: 2308/4594
He’d been earning experience points at a quick pace. Same with Rachael, Averyl, and Ulysses.
He viewed their information.
Rachael (Berserker) | LVL: 17 | Rank: D
Averyl (Medic) | LVL: 17 | Rank: C
Ulysses (Assassin) | LVL: 17 | Rank: B
Break time was over. Guy stood with his party and pressed on across the flatlands, making their way to Alita and familiarizing themselves with their new roles. Rachael was the tank now and held a perpetual smile on her face all day. She got through by striking monsters with her sword and healing her own injuries using her Medic abilities. Once Rachael ran dry of MP, which happened quite fast, Averyl would step in and take over healing duties until Rachael’s fae racial trait regenerated her MP bar. Then the cycle would continue.
Ulysses operated as an Assassin who swapped back and forth between daggers and his bow. The agility his Ranger subclass gave him made it possible for Ulysses to pull off such a feat in little time. If a target was too far away, Ulysses used his bow to shoot arrows at them as he closed the gap, whip out his twin daggers, and used his AP skills, usually Uplifting Strike. It was a large upward dagger slash that’d knock opponents up and into the air, then they’d land on their ass.
Backstab worked with bows too.
Averyl operated as a Medic, filling the void Rachael left. However, unlike Rachael, Averyl used her Cleric as a subclass, granting her the ability to cast Starlight Recovery, along with Regeneration and Recovery Orbs, and Medica to restore everyone’s HP in a pinch. Then you had Asteria’s Judgment that would imbue Averyl’s battlestaff with light elemental power and give her swings an extra kick.
As for Guy? He was stuck using Paladin as a subclass, which he felt was odd considering the astral cluster had recognized that he had unlocked Berserker and Assassin. He couldn’t select anything else to use as a subclass, only Paladin. Not that he cared as Paladin meshed well with Spell Lancer. He could still use Storm Slash, which, in his opinion, was better to use on Spell Lancer. Ethereal lances had way better reach than Asteria’s Sword, increasing the size of his area of effect attack. Shockwave Slash was still an option, and because that skill required the Light sigil, it allowed Guy to become a light elemental spirit when he used Become One with the Elements. Blinding Flash and Lay on Hands were also options, though they saw less use. Guy had to save his MP for Become One with the Elements. The longer he remained as a spirit, the more the ability drained his MP.
The party pushed across the plains and periodically encountered PKers harassing the local elves as they went about their day.
Sadly, none of the PKers resembled Nijana and her Assassin druid partner. Killing PKer party leaders, however, sped up the progress of their leveling, which was why the four were able to reach level 17 so fast. That and a few elves offered the four quests to protect them from PKers. There were rumors of a Bard and Assassin duo creating a ruckus close to their position. Clerics and Medics drank dozens of MP potions after resurrecting the dead, only to have to do it again when that infamous PKer duo struck.
Guy kept a close eye for the wooden houses that made up Alita. The last thing he needed was to get killed again by Nijana and the druid Assassin. As lovely as it was to gain levels on their new classes, they needed to reach the Sirocco ASAP.
Each hour th
at ticked away brought Arn and the Seraphim closer to the planet’s atmosphere and inevitable destruction. As Guy recalled, they now had around a day left.
Later, the party of four approached their destination, Alita. And boy, the sight of the city was a pleasing one. It signaled the end of their journey. As for the Sirocco . . .
Guy and his party dashed through the city, past its elven population nursing wounds suffered at the hands of a PKing Assassin and Bard duo, past the wooden homes, and headed toward where the Sirocco had landed. The airship hadn’t taken off yet, to Guy’s relief. Its propellers spinning, however, wasn’t an encouraging sight.
“Oh, shit . . .” Guy grunted.
Ulysses shrugged. “I’d say run, but there is no way you can chase down an airship once it leaves.”
The Sirocco lifted off.
They were seconds too late.
That didn’t stop Guy from running for it anyway, screaming and waving his hands as the airship’s propellors sent the vessel airborne. The winds the airship kicked up rustled the ends of Guy’s trench coat as he ran.
“Wait up, you assholes!” Guy screamed at the rising airship. “We’re here . . . Ah man, fuck!”
He collapsed to his knees and accepted defeat. The airship had left, and Guy looked at the grass he fell to. Now, they would have to walk to the north and hope Serzax didn’t destroy their friends.
Damn it. Xanthe, sorry for not keeping that promise.
Rachael stood with Guy from behind and lay her hand on his shoulder, consolingly. “I should have stayed,” Rachael said to him. “If I had yelled loud enough, I might have been able to convince them not to leave.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Guy said and rose. He peered into her eyes that wouldn’t leave his. “I’m sure Remy would have yelled louder. That fucker had it in for me since we fought the other night.”
The two childhood friends sighed and looked aside from the gust of winds the Sirocco created during its ascent. They walked toward Averyl and Ulysses, mentally preparing for the long haul back on foot.
“Mon ami.”
“Can it, Ulysses,” Guy grunted.
“But.”
“I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Yes, you were right. Running was a waste of energy.”
“No,” Ulysses sighed. “It’s just—”
“You want to call this off and ask Arn to pick us up?” Rachael cut in. “Is that it? Just give up because of a setback—”
“Will you two shut the fuck up and listen to me?!” Ulysses raged, then pointed at the sky. “Look up. Someone wants to have a word with you.”
“Huh?” Guy spun around and followed Ulysses’s finger.
The Sirocco hadn’t left.
The Lumière airship hovered in the air with its flag flying in the winds. Tempeste stood at the guardrails of the Sirocco, waving at Guy, and shouting something. Guy couldn’t hear it over the roar of the airship. But his presence had captured Tempeste’s attention. She must have called off their departure because after Guy waved back to her, the Sirocco came down to land and deploy its rope ladder.
Guy and Ulysses climbed up the ladder and onto the ship’s top deck. Averyl and Rachael simply fluttered their fairy wings and floated up. Tempeste gave Guy a warm smile as he approached her; Remy, not so much, but fuck him.
Captain Bordeaux of the Sirocco joined them. His arms crossed over his leather jerkin baring the aeronaut crest of Lumière.
“Tempeste suggested at the last minute we should send a search party for you four,” Bordeaux said.
“Averyl and I had to camp out and wait for the undead to despawn,” Guy said. “Then we got help from Rachael and Ulysses, who guided us back to the city.”
“So this is everyone, right?” Bordeaux asked, gazing at Guy’s party. “Nobody else missing?”
“No, this is everyone,” Guy said. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Aye,” Bordeaux signaled to the crew. “Take us up . . . again.”
“Aye, captain.”
The Sirocco lifted off and into the sky, angled itself toward the north, and sped forward at full speed. The high winds blowing through Guy’s hair and coat felt nice and cooled his sweat dripping body from the sprinting and fighting earlier.
“Remy tells me, your star-dweller machina found proof of a New Svartálfar airship fleet on approach to Lumière?” Bordeaux asked.
“Yeah,” Guy said to the captain.
“My ship can see all from the heavens,” Ulysses added. “Airships left the mists to rendezvous with the fae imperial airship. They’re probably getting ready to launch an all-out assault on your capital.”
“South from the mists . . .” Bordeaux grunted, looked to the wooden deck, and stroked his chin. “They are not probably going to attack. They will be attacking. The mists separate dark elf and light elf territory.”
“If that’s where they come from,” Guy said. “Why don’t you have ships guarding it daily?”
“The mist stretches around the globe like a ring,” Bordeaux said. “It is impossible to patrol every inch of it. We do not have enough airships for that. There will always be somewhere in the world New Svartálfar would pass through to attack.”
“I see,” Guy said. “Better to patrol the land you control.”
The captain nodded. “Aye, and by doing that, we could use our telescopes to spot them coming. You cannot see shit when looking into the mists. You do not know what lurks there until it emerges. Well, in any case, praise be to Asteria for sending you star-dwellers. Your machina is going to save lives.”
“Right . . .” Guy spun away from the captain. “Speaking of the Seraphim, Ulysses, have you heard from Arn?”
“Let me check.” Ulysses grabbed his communicator and thumbed its commands. “When I awoke, the Seraphim wasn’t in range.” The star-elf glanced at the screen, smiling. “Nice, it is now.” Ulysses sent a message and waited for Arn to pick it up. He did. “Arn, any new info about that New Svartálfar fleet? Holding position, eh? Where about? Hmm, so they could strike Lumière by the end of the day.”
“Then let us attack the dark elves now before it is too late.”
That was Remy barging in. Remy’s outburst drew everyone’s attention as he stood with his plated armor reflecting the sunlight.
Guy shook his head no in disagreement. “We should stop at Lumière first and let them know what’s going on.”
“No, such a delay might give New Svartálfar the chance to launch their surprise assault,” Remy said, his voice firm. “If we move straight to them now, we can attack before they get close.”
“Yeah, and we’d be outnumbered,” Guy grunted and leaned against the guard railing, arms crossed.
“But we have an advantage now, do we not?” Remy said to him. “Your machina ship in the stars. It can see what nobody else can unless it is in the mists.” Remy pointed at Rachael, Averyl, Xanthe, and Zuran. “And these four can fly. It was the fae who nearly took down our ships during the last encounter. Until that point, we were winning. Have your starship track the fae airship. Let us know where it is at all times so that we can keep our distance.”
“And then?” Guy snorted.
“And then,” Remy shut his eyes to think. “We do what the empire did to us. We send our fighters with the ability to fly onto the New Svartálfar ships to harass them.”
“Wait, hold on,” Rachael said, stepping forward. She didn’t sound like they had sold her on the idea. “So, you want me, Zuran, Averyl, and Xanthe . . . Just the four of us to board their ships and fight the dark elf crew?”
“Yes, I have witnessed firsthand the advantages Averyl gains when she flies,” Remy said. “Dark elves favor Mages and Spell Lancers. If you remain in the skies, the Spell Lancers will have a hard time reaching you.”
“Not the Mages,” Rachael grunted.
“Mages who have low HP and defense,” Remy said. “Hit them with everyone you have, and they shall fall fast. After that, the Spell Lancers should be of mino
r threat unless they use Become One with the Elements. But to do that, they need AP first. Kill them before they get it, and you win.”
“It should not be too hard,” Xanthe chimed in. “I just dislike how we have no one to serve as a frontline defender.”
“I’ll have to stay as a Berserker,” Rachael said, her fists clenched with determination. “With a group like that, I’ll be the one with the highest defense and HP.”
“We can provide you with proper plate armor free of charge,” Bordeaux said. “A better axe too, or sword if you prefer.”
“I’d like a sword,” Rachael said, grinning at Guy. “Better watch out Guy, I’m coming up the ranks as a tank.”
Guy didn’t share the grin. He gazed long at Remy, unable to shake the worrying feeling in his gut. “I’m not sure about this.” He faced Bordeaux and Tempeste. “End of the day, the Sirocco is your ship, you two. This operation is your call.”
Bordeaux and Tempeste chatted among themselves, CO and XO debating about the call to make. After a minute, the two turned to address Ulysses.
“Ulysses,” Tempeste said to him. “Do you believe your starship can give us the upper hand?”
“Well, as long as the Seraphim’s orbit puts it above the region, then yeah,” Ulysses said. “Arn will get intel and relay it to me. If the imperial airship changes directions, then I’ll be the first to know of it. If backup from New Svartálfar comes in, well, same deal. If we need an escape route, Arn’ll find it.”
A long pause came as Bordeaux and Tempeste debated again. The duo returned to the group with a decision. Guy hoped it was the best one because there was an eerie feeling biting in his head and telling him they were about to fly into an ambush.
“We shall engage the New Svartálfar fleet,” Bordeaux revealed.
Guy sighed and facepalmed. “Oh boy . . .”
“Please, hear us out,” Tempeste said. “As we are one ship, there is no way we can destroy all hostile vessels. The plan is to inflict as much damage as possible by using Remy’s strategy. New Svartálfar would not risk attacking with damaged airships. They will have to stop to make repairs, maybe even fly back to New Svartálfar to replenish the troops killed.”
Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2) Page 40