Zeal of the Mind and Flesh: A Cultivating Gamelit Harem Adventure (Spellheart Book 1)

by Marvin Whiteknight

  My plan would put that behind us. It was dawning on them that the Crimson Dragon Clan didn’t intend to absorb them into their ranks like they did with the Claw Tamer tribe. Nor even make them into vassal tribes like the Hidden Serpent’s tribe. They were to be brute labor, meant to gather resources and pay tribute. And eventually the Crimson Dragon Clan would grow in numbers to match their newfound wealth and status. When that happened, they’d be pushed out of the Hearthwood forest, enslaved, or exterminated.

  There were more than a few green-haired Riverweed tribe elves bound in collars and chains to serve as an example as they scrubbed clothes, dug trenches, and carried pitchers of water in service to the Crimson Dragon tribe. Sava winced every time she saw a familiar face, dirty and unkempt, shuffling along with a device locked around their necks that saw them obey orders or face magically induced pain.

  Beyond all the other factors, I think this is what drove the three other tribes to meet with me in secret.

  Bit by bit, our rebellion was taking shape.

  Eventually, the time came to meet up with Eltiana again. She’d made preparations for the ritual in a secluded location. And by secluded location, she meant Grotkin’s shop.

  “So, how much did they pay you for this?” I asked the hobgoblin.

  “Ha! A pretty penny, I can tell you that. But I’ve got wards up. Hobgoblin wards from back home. I don’t care if this Red Serpent’s a true mage or whatever, our shamans can make talismans that will keep your little orgy here quiet and undisturbed.”

  That’s when Eltiana explained what exactly the ritual entailed. As Grotkin’s aptly put it, it was essentially an orgy. Though, lucky for my personal tastes, I’d be the only male taking part.

  There were ritual diagrams on the floor, with the soul jars of Yulli and the three slain clan chiefs on the ground, along with the Hidden Serpent soul from the male elf I’d killed when I first arrived in this world and the Hidden Serpent’s original matriarch who’d been slain shortly before. Eltiana had arranged all of them in a pentagram around us.

  There was somebody there to represent each of the tribes of the Hearthwood, not counting the Crimson Dragon tribe or the Claw Tamer tribe. Eltiana was there representing the Hidden Serpents tribe, Sava was there to keep watch and glare at me.

  One by one, the representatives of the various tribes invited to our secret little meeting arrived.

  Eltiana had been the first to arrive to set everything up, but I hadn’t realized that she would participate herself until she started stripping down. The purple-haired elf was small but toned with defined muscles on her arms, legs, and stomach. On the last of those, there was a large red mark surrounding a scar, and I knew that’s where I’d stabbed her. It had mostly faded by now, but even elvish regeneration capabilities weren’t enough to remove evidence of a near-fatal blow like that.

  The next to arrive was Arwena, hooded figure with the brownish gray hair of the Ironwood tribe. I took a while to remember where I’d seen her before. She was the woman clinging to chief Antgut before Yulli killed the former chief. Sure enough, Arwena was clutching a soul jar to her bosom, guarding it jealously.

  “I may be a fool for coming here,” Arwena remarked “but if you can revive my love, then my pride and safety are worthy prices to pay. Even if what comes back is only half the woman she was, I still need her with me.”

  Then she too disrobed. She looked older, which was rare for an elf. Until now, virtually all of them looked to be somewhere between twenty and thirty-five. Arwena, were she a human, would have been considered a very fit and shapely woman in her forties. Which for an elf probably meant she was ancient. The greater the cultivation base, the longer the lifespan, so it was always difficult to tell. I wondered if the same would be true for me.

  Though she was older, with some gray hairs mixing in with her brown, she still had all the assets of youth. Her breasts were far bigger than any of the elves I’d been with thus far, and her lips were a bit fuller too. She had a hint of suspicion in her features, but also a hint of youthful excitement sparkling in her eyes.

  The next to arrive was Assyrus. She was the genius protege of Chief Wisdom. A young, blueish-purple haired elf with fire in her eyes. She walked into the room and forcefully tugged her top off, glaring daggers at me and Sava the whole time.

  “You’d better be able to do as you promised,” she said anxiously.

  “This ritual has been performed successfully in our clan’s records. Unfortunately, Theo here is the only male of suitable attributes in the Hearthwood. Theo’s the only male entity capable of producing the necessary life zeal. He’s a chaka, you see.”

  “So you say,” Assyrus replied. She turned to me. “You’d better be able to perform.” She jerked a finger at my chest.

  “Gee, it’s hard to get it up under pressure, you know.”

  Soon after, Melise arrived, face red but with a lusty smile on her lips. She knew Yulli the best, and would be the one to nurture her soul. I’d spoken to her about what we talked about in her dream, and she was happy about our new arrangements.

  The last elf was an unfamiliar face. She bore the signature orange-yellow hair from the Myriad Hues of flame tribe though and claimed to be the sister of Chief Condor.

  “All right, the records say the first part of the ritual is to bind the souls of the fallen with the blood of those who knew them. Each of you knew one of the dead chiefs well, or are closely related to them. You share their blood and memories, which we will use to empower this ritual.

  “Open the soul jars just a crack, and prick your skin with this needle here. Careful, this is no ordinary needle. As a mystic treasure of the true mage rankings, it is powerful. It channels thoughts and memories from your mind into your blood. If you don’t pull away, it will drain you dry.”

  Blood-Memory Needle (True Mage)

  This needle was crafted by the previous inhabitants of the Hearthwood forest, who have long since vanished to time. When it touches living flesh, it draws both blood and memories out into the open.

  Eltiana passed the needle to Assyrus, just to her left. The needle took the form of a shard of white bone engraved with a series of twisting, ancient-looking script. The letters glowed faintly, and I realized I could sense the touch of mind magic coming from them.

  Assyrus pricked her finger with the bone needle and winced. Her skin turned gray where she had been poked. The needle must have had some iron in it. The color quickly returned though, and she passed the needle on to Arwena, who did the same.

  Soon, every elf carrying a jar had pricked themselves with the needle. The orange haired Myriad Hues of flame tribe elf passed the needle to me, and I poked myself in the arm with it. For the others, their skin had grayed and a drop of deep crimson blood accumulated on the needle, to be tapped off into the jar. For me it was different though.

  As the bone needle pierced my skin, the glowing runes changed color from a light blue to a deep crimson red.

  It was just a tiny pinprick, and yet blood poured from the open wound until it covered the needle completely, turning it a deep crimson color. I quickly pulled it away from my skin to stop the flow of blood out of the tiny hole in my arm.

  “Was it supposed to do that?” I said with a touch of accusation in my voice at Eltiana.

  “Sorry, I should have warned you. I didn’t think it would be that severe. The cost in life zeal is high, which is why this ritual isn’t common. Most tribes just wait for the souls to hang around long enough to be reincarnated naturally. This is actually a simplified version of a wizard-level ritual. Though from what Sava told me, a chaka like you can sustain massive life zeal drainage. That’s the only reason we’re able to do this.”

  “Thrilling. In the future, I’d like to be notified when I’m going to be drained of vitality.”

  Eltiana shrugged. “All right, you’re about to be drained of vitality. Consider yourself notified.”

  The new girls were nervous to strip in front of me, but Sava and Illie
l led by example. They had their clothes off in a flash and immediately rushed to help me with mine. Illiel kissed my cheek while Sava unlatched my belt, the only artifact left from my old wardrobe. She’d had the most practice with the unfamiliar latching mechanism and had since figured out how to take if off with just a few swift tugs.

  My pants dropped as Illiel broke her kiss with me so I could pull my shirt off. The moment the thin piece of fabric was out of the way, our kissing resumed. Melise joined in from behind, caressing my back.

  No bed would have been big enough for all of us, but somebody had thought ahead and swept the room before laying blankets and pillows all over the floor to make things as comfortable as possible, along with a variety of unusually shaped chairs and furniture. Any scrap of floor space that didn’t have pentagrams, symbols, or burning candles had been made comfortable enough to make love on.

  Sava and Illiel met each other’s eyes, as if competing for who would go first. They both dropped to their knees at the same time, licking and kissing at my rapidly hardening erection.

  Illiel kissed the tip, first wetting it with her tongue before wrapping her lips around it. Her cheeks turned hollow as she sucked on my head, teasing the underside with her flickering tongue.

  Meanwhile, Sava ran her carefully trained tongue up and down the side of my shaft. She wet the entire length with her saliva, eventually reaching my balls. She flicked at them, wrapping them in her warm and wet tongue.

  Illiel sucked while Sava licked, and the stimulation quickly brought me to peak hardness. Meanwhile, I was greeted by the breathtaking scene of all the other attractive elves anxiously disrobing.

  Eltiana was the most confident of the lot after Sava and Illiel. She caught my gaze and tore through her outer garments, letting strips of frayed cloth fall to the floor. With her underclothes, she was more sensual, slowly shimmying out of her panties and undoing her chest wrap slowly and sensually. She tossed her purple hair with a motion that was perfect and fluid, allowing me the perfect glimpse of her bare neck and chest.

  Arwena was the next to disrobe. She was an older and more experienced elf, so it made sense she would have less hesitation than the others.

  The unknown orange-yellow haired elf from the Myriad Hues of Flame tribe disrobed in a sensual dance that reminded me of a flickering flame. Her hair waved back and forth like it had a life of its own. Light traveled up her silky smooth skin, shimmering unnaturally in the candle light as she swayed back and forth like a candle in a light breeze.

  The final elf, Assyrus of the Waterbeetle tribe, was just as beautiful as the others, but in a much more muscular way. The Waterbeetle elves were front line fighters with intimidating strength and strong defenses. Assyrus displayed that in full, approaching my own height and having musculature that would have intimidated me before coming to this world. In one brisk motion she tore the clothes right from her body. She didn’t flinch or break eye contact with me as she did so. In any other circumstances, I would have assumed she was squaring up for a fistfight.

  Uncertain step by uncertain step, our circle grew closer. Eltiana reached out her hands, and one by one we formed a circle. We stepped closer, tracing the edges of the ritual diagram painted on the floor. When the circle closed tighter, Eltiana and Sava released my hands and pushed me into the center, joining up again to complete the circle.

  I felt a strange sensation deep in my loins as the girls circled me, holding hands and with faces raised towards the heavens.

  “What now?” I whispered.

  Eltiana pointed at the goblet in the center of the room.

  “That goblet contains all our united life-energies. Breathe it, and our bloodlines will be bound through you.”

  I picked up the goblet which was filled with a misty white substance. More gas than liquid. As soon as I touched the cup, the gas floated out like a thick strand of smoke. I breathed deeply and the smoke eagerly filled my lungs.

  I felt many sensations at that moment. The strength and hardness of a Waterbeetle. The caress of a flame. The sting of a serpent’s fangs. The pride of an Ironwood tree. The vitality of river grass. The golden light of the sun. The power of thought. All these different zeals, each representing a different elf.

  As I concentrated on each feeling, I found I could dredge out images. Flashes of memory. Fighting in a cave. Standing with a motherly figure. Finding a plant in the forest. Looking down from the ramparts of a golden fortress. Without words or concrete thoughts, I suddenly felt I understood each of these girls on an instinctual level.

  “Be one with us, Theo. Be the binding that unites us all together,” Eltiana instructed.

  I breathed slowly in and out. “I feel you all. I am ready.”

  Hands touched me then, from all directions. Soon I was lost in a sea of blushing faces and moaning voices, and I knew I would have to push myself harder than I ever had before to satisfy every elf here.

  I steeled my nerves and set myself to the task before me.

  “Oooh!”

  “Ahh!”

  “Mhmm!”

  Through flickering candlelight and lust-filled moans, I contended with the beautiful elves before me. I thrust and kissed with all my might, tossing an exhausted elf to the side to recover in the arms of her fellows while the next one prepared to ride my cock. There was no reprieve for me. I had to pull out every trick I had learned in recent days to last as long as I did, and even then we had to stop for me to recover every few elves.

  The girls were not idle while waiting for me. Soft hands roamed over flawless elven flesh, massaging, squeezing, touching, licking. Apparently, elves had no taboos against homosexuality. Each of the girls fully welcomed the touch of their companions and enjoyed their time with each other almost as much as they enjoyed their time with me.

  We brought inscribed soul jars out one by one, each of them containing a wisp made of dim, flickering light. The souls of elves waiting to be reborn, and the true purpose of this ritual.

  As the night wore on life zeal accumulated in vast quantities, that the tiny wisps soaked up like sponges rung far dry. They soaked and soaked it up until they glowed bright and vibrant in their respective colors.

  “Now the difficult part. Pure life zeal will only do so much. If we truly want our old chieftains to be reborn, we must do just that. Give them a chance to be reborn,” Eltiana explained.

  “How do we go about doing that?” I asked.

  “It’s simple. You must finish in each of us that plans to sire one of the clan chieftains. As you do, another will force the wisp we will bear into our flesh through our abdomens. From there, an egg will develop around them, to be laid in a few days.”

  “Let’s steer away from our own bloodlines. I know that I for one I have no desire to be my older sister’s mother,” Nela supplied.

  There were some sounds of agreement, and we passed wisps around until everyone had a wisp belonging to an unrelated tribe. Some elves were reluctant to hand over the spirit of their loved ones to the care of another, but we were all in this together. Melise even agreed to be the mother of Antgut, the Ironwood chieftain, which Arwena was grateful for. She claimed she was too old to lay an egg reliably and wanted to leave this task to the younger elves.

  I couldn’t help but think this was for the best. By mixing the bloodlines of each of the tribal chiefs, we could reduce any internal resentment. It would be very difficult to resolve tensions if these wisps kept memories of being killed by Yulli, but connecting all the tribes like this would help.

  Melise was the most eager to try, and the first to go.

  “You sure you’re ready for this?” I asked.

  Eltiana glanced at her. “Just let us know if it hurts, even for a moment.”

  “I’m ready, do it!” Melise said, the firmest thing I’d ever heard from her.

  “Okay, here I go!”

  I resumed my previous actions, tracing my hands up and down her body as I kissed down her neck and pecked at the elf’s exposed and lusciou
s breasts. I gave Eltiana the signal once I was ready, and she began the process of fusing the wisp with her.

  “Oooh!” Melise shuddered. I stopped immediately.

  “What’s wrong? Pain?”

  “No… it just tickles,” Melise giggled, then shook herself.

  Eltiana breathed a sigh of relief. “Then the ritual works as promised. Good. Who’s next?”

  One by one, the elves stepped up to bat. Nobody was shy as after everything we had already done to generate the life zeal to power this ritual.

  “My sister really owes me for this one,” Nela grumbled.

  “Don’t you mean she owes me, Nela?” The orange-yellow haired elf from the Myriad Hues of Flame tribe said with a laugh. She was the one who had fused with Yulli’s wisp.

  Everyone had gotten to know each other well during this ritual. It was like a magical bond was being formed. If I hadn’t seen them before, I would have thought this was a big group of childhood friends, not important individuals from rival tribes competing for dominance.

  Our ritual didn’t end until light was breaking over the horizon, and by then I was so exhausted and worn out I didn’t think I would ever wake up. Worse, I was chafing in the most uncomfortable of places from all the friction the previous night. Hopefully that would heal fast.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  A DAY LATER, just as I was recovering from the previous day’s escapades, I got a message from Red Serpent, matriarch of the Crimson Dragon Clan, calling in the favor I owed her. And by message, I mean two heavily armed Crimson Dragon Clan goons.