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God Conqueror 3

Page 27

by Logan Jacobs


  Finally a woman asked me hoarsely, “Who are you?”

  I answered, “Qaar’endoth the Unvanquished, fourth son of the Fairlands, defender of the righteous and destroyer of the malevolent, twenty-three times incarnated, sire to untold thousands, first earth-walker since the age of Luma. But you can call me Vander.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  One of me stayed at the fortress to help coordinate search parties. Some of the priests and vestals stayed with me and remained armed and at the ready to deal with any holdouts who hadn’t just been brainwashed, but still remained loyal to Thorvinius, and posed a threat to us and to their former fellow order members.

  Another continued making trips back and forth to help escort some of the bewildered recently restored humans from the Cliffs of Nadirizi to our camp in the woods a mile away. Some of them gathered supplies from the fortress and immediately set out for their homes in nearby or faraway villages and towns. Others wanted to stop at our camp first to rest and recuperate. We didn’t have enough resources to provide for them all, so I made sure that some of my followers were also making supply runs from the Thorvinian stores.

  My third self oversaw the posting of sentries around our camp. We had been surprised once by the Thorvinians, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again, even if they were only a shadow of their former power and consisted of a handful of human psychopaths instead of thousands of mindless mutant slaves.

  As for my other two selves, I enjoyed the celebrations of our victory.

  The former followers of Tarlinis, and even the invisible god himself, were absolutely ecstatic with how this campaign, which for many of them was the most adventurous thing they had ever done in their lives, had turned out. The former Thorvinians were mostly still a bit shell shocked, but they had even more reason to rejoice in the restoration of their own minds and bodies. The priests and vestals were all quite kind and friendly to them, and they were thankful to the priests and vestals for their rescue, once they began to understand what had happened to them months or years ago and the sequence of events that had liberated them from The Devourer’s grasp.

  Some kind of alcohol had been brought back to camp from the Thorvinian fortress, and although it tasted rather foul, it certainly served its purpose. Willobee was, of course, among the first of the conquering army to sample it.

  “Elodette, do you think you could find a way to sweeten this using your herbal knowledge?” he inquired of the centaur.

  “I have only been trained in the practical applications of herbs, I am not a brewer or a royal chef,” the gray-eyed beauty replied haughtily.

  “But what could be more practical than drinking and eating?” Willobee protested.

  “Of course eating and drinking are practical necessities to fuel our bodies,” Elodette agreed. “But there’s no need for all the elaborate spices that you and Florenia like to talk about.”

  Willobee held up a mug full of the Thorvinian liquor and grumbled, “You try this and tell me that.”

  Elodette sighed, rolled her eyes, shoved the proffered mug away, picked up a half-full barrel of the same liquor instead, and proceeded to chug its entire contents while an admiring and slightly horrified crowd looked on and started whooping and either calling out encouragement or worriedly pleading with her to stop. She stopped only when the barrel was empty and slammed it down on the ground triumphantly so hard that the wood cracked. The powerful centaur had a human mouth and throat, but apparently, she had a horse’s drinking capacity and then some.

  Willobee just gaped in speechless astonishment. Then, he brought his knobby little hands together and started clapping so hard that it made the ostrich plume in his cap bob wildly.

  “To the finest archer in Ambria!” Gavin shouted as he raised his tankard for a toast. “You were magnificent today!”

  “You’re magnificent every day,” I told Elodette as the enthusiastic yells and tankard clanking of the crowd nearly drowned me out. She flashed me a sideways smile. I mustered up more courage than it had taken to storm Thorvinius’ fortress and patted her on her glossy black horse's rump. She narrowed her gray eyes at me in warning, but the fact that I didn’t immediately get that body’s brains dashed out indicated to me that she secretly didn’t mind at all.

  “And to the she-wolf!” Hester yelled as she pointed at Lizzy, who was still naked under her chainmail gown and still wearing the ruby necklace from the vender in Bjurna as well, which nicely matched the blood spatters on her skin. All in all it might have been my favorite outfit yet that I’d ever seen on her. “You’re a fucking inspiration!”

  The priests and vestals cheered Lizzy just as raucously as they had done Elodette, and a lot of them seized the opportunity to ogle her too.

  Florenia, who was standing hand in hand with the other of my selves that was watching the scene, arched one of her dramatic dark eyebrows at me and pulled me into a nearby tent. It contained a crude wooden chair that I guessed had been constructed since our arrival.

  The exquisitely beautiful duke’s daughter undressed me, which at this point she had gotten very efficient at since I continued to wear the same leather Qaar’endothian novice’s uniform that she was well accustomed to by now, and pushed me down into the chair. Then she pulled off her undergarments so that she was naked beneath her golden dress, lifted the skirt up, and straddled my lap.

  She was positioned in such a way that my cock was pressed flat beneath her, so her wet entrance rubbed against its length as she clutched the chair back and rocked herself back and forth as she emitted faint moans, but the tip was prevented from penetrating her. I reached my hands under her skirt to grab her ass and stroke the top of her cleft as she continued to whet both of our appetites in this way until I was so hard that my shaft was practically lifting her whole body.

  Then when we couldn’t bear it for another second, she stood up by a few inches, which gave my cock the space that it needed to spring up from my lap, and slid herself onto it with a cry. When she had worked herself all the way down my length, she flung her arms around me so that our torsos were pressed together as close as they could be. I kept my hands positioned on her buttocks so that I could feel the way they clenched and unclenched as she rocked back and forth on my cock. Then I squeezed harder, lifted her up a few inches but not far enough to slide off me, and lowered her again. She took the hint, relaxed her embrace, and started bouncing up and down.

  By then I was certain there was no way that the people outside couldn’t hear her yelps, but I didn’t think it mattered much, because many of them were starting to engage in similar activities. Tarlinis hadn’t really enforced celibacy very strictly among his order, and his former followers had been glad to find out that I didn’t impose any such restrictions at all.

  Soon after we both climaxed, another of my selves returned to camp leading another group of liberated Thorvinians, and Lizzy immediately grabbed me and kissed me so fiercely that it was almost an attack. My followers that surrounded us cheered us on loudly. There was a limited supply of tents, especially now that the camp had so many new occupants, so I indicated to Lizzy the one that Florenia and I were already in.

  Florenia and I watched from our chair while I stripped Lizzy of her chainmail, got her down on her hands and knees, penetrated her from behind and rhythmically slammed my cock into her. The sight of that got us both hotly aroused and ready to go again much sooner than usual.

  One of my two selves that were outside in the camp was surrounded by my followers as they exchanged drunken tall tales and boasts with the former Thorvinians that had just been their mortal enemies that morning, and Elodette was among us, and casually continuing to down a barrel of Thorvinian liquor per everyone else’s tankard.

  “Do you know what my favorite part of these last few weeks has been?” I asked her.

  The sharp-featured huntress considered for a moment, then asked wryly, “Fucking that flaming bird lady in midair?”

  “Oh yeah, that was an interesting night,” I
mused. “But that wasn’t my favorite.”

  “Destroying one of Thorvinius’ shrines just now?” Elodette guessed.

  “That would be the most rational preference,” I said. “But that wasn’t it either.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to know?” Elodette huffed. “Humans don’t make any sense.”

  “It was by the dam above Tarlinis’ temple, right after we unleashed the waters,” I said.

  The stern warrior centaur’s pale chiseled cheekbones actually flushed for the first time that I had ever seen, so I knew that she remembered our unexpected first kiss just as vividly as I did.

  “Oh, that,” she muttered.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” I said. “I know it was a pretty emotional, chaotic moment. So if it was just a one-time impulse, and you just want to forget about it, I won’t mention it again.”

  She hesitated before she replied, “... It wasn’t just a one-time impulse. But it’s a violation of centaur morality for me to be… interested in someone of a different species.”

  “I don’t think centaurs and humans are as different as you think,” I said. “But more importantly, I don’t think it’s wrong to be with whoever you want to be with, as long as they want to be with you too. And I do want to be with you, Elodette. Nothing would make me happier.”

  Her icy gray eyes narrowed. “Of course you do. You want to be with every attractive female you lay eyes on.”

  “Well, sure, to some extent,” I admitted. “But not the same way I want to be with you. You’re not just beautiful, you’re a badass. There’s no one with more honor and integrity. No one I trust more to have my back, and even when you’re busy bitching me out, I know you’re still watching it. That’s something special. You’re really fucking special, Elodette.”

  She leaned in and at first I thought she was going to kiss me again, but then she bypassed my mouth and brushed her lips along my jaw to whisper in my ear, “...I’ll think about it.”

  That sent a tingle down my spine. Other parts were tingling too, actually. “Don’t take too long thinking,” I groaned. But by then my new followers, oblivious to our exchange, had started up a chant for Elodette to perform her barrel-draining stunt again, and she shrugged her chiseled shoulders and trotted over to oblige.

  Meanwhile my other self was still standing watch with some of the priests and vestals in case any of the elective Thorvinians showed up.

  Ilandere came up to that self on the quieter outskirts of the camp, put her slender white arms around me, and nestled her silvery head against my shoulder.

  “I used to wish we could just settle down in some idyllic place like Galeurn right away, where we would be safe from the rest of the world’s troubles,” she said. “But now I think I understand that that would be selfish, after seeing what you accomplished today for all those enslaved Thorvinians. I understand why you have to keep fighting evil first. And once we earn it, the peace and quiet will be all that much sweeter. And, I’ll bake you an apple pie every day.”

  I laughed. “I’d like that, Princess.” I turned my head to kiss her tenderly.

  A familiar voice interrupted our kiss by saying, “No retirement for the next ten years though, please.”

  I looked over at the gnome and exclaimed, “But Willobee, I thought you hated danger and discomfort. I thought you’d just want me to set you up in a cushy spot somewhere you could play card games and drink honey mead all day.”

  “I do want to play card games and drink honey mead all day,” Willobee agreed, “but I like doing it in a different inn with new faces every night. That way no one ever has a chance to get wise to my tactics, you know. And if someone does notice something, well, we can be miles away by morning with our newly fattened purses. Besides, if I am your right-hand gnome when you complete your defeat of Thorvinius? Then I, Willobee, will become the most famous gnome that Clan Benniwumporgan has ever produced. They shall sing songs of me throughout Ambria.”

  “Songs that you composed, you mean?” asked the luminous princess. It was a gentle jab at the gnome’s vanity, but I appreciated the fact that the timid little centaur was gradually learning to banter with him.

  “But of course,” Willobee replied without even seeming to recognize the intended mockery. “Who else could possibly do my exploits full lyrical justice?”

  “As long as you don’t forget the saga of the toad,” Ilandere said.

  “Oh, that arrogant charlatan shall never receive the undue honor of his name being uttered by my lips in song!” Willobee said indignantly.

  “What about Vander and me?” Ilandere asked shyly. “Will you sing about us?”

  “Of course I will,” Willobee replied. “How could I pass up such a peerless subject matter? The finest master that ever a gnome has served, and the most incandescently beautiful and pure-hearted angel ever born to the centaur species. Your handmaiden, now, would not be bad looking at all either, except for the fact that she has such unpleasant manners. Calling everyone lazy, and cowards, and cheaters, and alcoholics all the time… it really does detract from the effect of her genetic gifts, you know.”

  Ilandere giggled and glanced at me mischievously. It certainly didn’t reflect our experience that the stern huntress applied those particular pejoratives to “everyone,” but neither of us said anything to correct the gnome’s assumption.

  “Well,” I said, “I just hope that someday, you will sing of the final downfall of The Devourer.”

  “At the hands of Qaar’endoth,” Ilandere added. “Ten hands and counting.”

  “I’ve already started composing that song in my head,” Willobee replied.

  “I’m looking forward to hearing it,” I said.

  End of book 3

  End Notes

  Hey! Thanks for reading God Conqueror 3. Did you like the book? If so, please leave a review here.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Logan Jacobs

 

 

 


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