by Eric Vall
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Chapter 1
I was a thousand rocket shells deep, but I still had another thousand to form before I could take a break. Luckily, Stan volunteered to help, and trying to balance on each new rocket without rolling himself off the work table was how he chose to do so. The constant clanging of steel against the floor when he failed at every attempt was distracting, but I let him have his fun since my little metal man had been wholly dedicated to our next mission for over a week now.
Stan designed a strict workout routine for himself that kept him busy from sunup to breakfast time, and he even learned to do a triple double flip in case they came in handy. He’d started running marathons through the halls of our mansion and practicing his sneaking skills, too, and I was proud of him for embracing his duties with so much enthusiasm. The little metal man’s confidence and skills were growing by the day, but personally, I wasn’t feeling confident enough to play around like he found time to do.
After I discovered Stan wore the proper elemental degree to transport himself through the Master’s portals, I’d spent days attempting to replicate him and form a whole Stan Army that could infiltrate the Master’s fortress. It didn’t matter how many mini metal men I created, though. None of them bore the marking of the rune Nemris had bestowed upon Stan.
Without this, they weren’t much use, so all I really had was two dozen little metal sculptures that Stan seemed to think were a gesture of my love for him.
Now, the lifeless mini soldiers were posted all over the mansion wherever Stan saw fit to put them, and I couldn’t count how many times I’d turned a corner to step on a fleet of them guarding the hallway. Each jagged soldier to the bottom of my foot reminded me of my biggest dilemma, but I was determined to find a solution. If Stan was our only means of getting behind enemy lines, then all I could do was give the problem every ounce of my energy if that’s what it took to pull this off.
Well, almost every ounce of my energy.
The majority of my time over the last eleven days had been spent right here on my shop stool, and my generals ran in and out all day to get our details squared away while I worked until my head pounded with fatigue.
The clock was ticking on our next attempt to bring the Master down, and even though we’d come out the victors after the ambush at the tunnels, we suffered enough injuries and casualties that I knew I had to change our tactics for this upcoming siege.
With revolvers in the hands of the Master’s possessed army, not to mention his fire titans, I wanted to keep my soldiers out of the red zone as long as possible, and this meant switching up our strategies, and of course, adding some new weapons to our arsenal.
Starting with the rocket shells.
So, I slid another ten rockets aside for Stan to play with, and I eyed the tiny rune on his chest as he scrambled up to try and balance once more. If I could only identify the elemental degrees in his rune, then I’d be back in business, but nothing I tried produced any results. I’d spent hours exploring the calling of the rune in the hopes of drawing out some kind of name for the five unknown elements I found there, but I was still stuck in the same place. No matter what approach I took, I couldn’t replicate the rune, and I finally tried summoning Nemris’ help, but I hadn’t seen or heard from the goddess since the day I should have died in the mountains.
Just recalling the battle at Vasdor made my work stall its pace, and my attention derailed like an unavoidable tick while I replayed the minute before I went unconscious yet again. I’d never been one to get hung up on existential brooding, but this must have been the hundredth time I went over the details of that moment like I’d somehow find an adequate explanation this time. Nothing logical came of it, though, and I ended up staring at the rack of bazookas in front of me while my mind churned through one unanswered question after another.
The fact was, I should have been dead by now. This was the one thing I was certain of, and beyond this, there was only endless confusion and a sinking feeling in my chest that I’d broken some cosmic law.
And I didn’t even know how the hell I’d done it.
Maybe my women were right, and I should have let it go by now, but I couldn’t. Something in the back of my mind kept prodding incessantly for a clear explanation, because I was a mortal, and mortals died. That’s all there was to it.
Pointing this out didn’t end well with my women, though, and to say they’d been pissed after Vasdor would be a gross understatement.
Once Shoshanne told Aurora about my near death in Orebane, it was only a matter of time before Cayla and Nulena found out as well. By lunch the next day, I found myself cornered by five gorgeous and heavily armed women threatening to kill me if I ever almost died again, and I patiently listened to their list of demands until they ran out ways to force me to stay alive.
Then I answered all their questions about where I’d gone after I broke the mountains apart, but nothing they had to say on the matter cleared up my own concerns.
Overall, my women decided Nemris clearly knew how fantastic I was, so the fact the Goddess of Peace and Transition chose to prevent the death of a mortal made perfect sense. According to my women, I was me. This was basically their reasoning.
Aurora did point out how brave dying for the sake of our troops was, though, and Shoshanne was quick to agree this alone would justify my survival. Cayla thought my glorious dick was a prominent reason Nemris wouldn’t let me die, and Deya seconded the logic while adding that a goddess as kind and gracious as her must let good men live all the time.
It was sweet to hear her redefining the rules of mortality for the next five minutes, but considering Deya would be replacing Nemris one day, I was slightly concerned about her naivety.
Nulena listened to this entire conversation while I waited for her to call bullshit any second, but the four of us suddenly discussing my connection with Nemris didn’t seem to surprise the Baroness. It was like I’d already filled her in on everything, but I couldn’t remember having ever mentioned it to her before.
So, after the ebony woman smirked without concern through my women’s reasoning, I took a deep breath, turned to Nulena, and admitted I wasn’t from around here.
Before I got any further, the Baroness decided this made sense given how amazing I was in bed, and when she kissed me goodbye before leaving for work, I decided Nulena was hands down the most unruffled woman I’d ever met.
Mostly unruffled, anyway. She had little to say about my brush with death, but I’d noticed a distinct change in her behavior afterward. For instance, she was wearing herself out regularly trying to balance her schedule and hang around the mansion more than usual, but she’d also gotten cuddlier than she’d ever been before. The ebony women made a point of strolling past me as often as possible to drag her fingers across my skin, or tuck a kiss in the nape of my neck, and she’d offered to help me in anyway she could on more than one occasion. In fact, she rarely tried to distract me into having sex if I was clearly busy with work, and I couldn’t remember the last time she’d missed dinner with us.
Seeing how attached Nulena had gotten to our family was proof enough that Vasdor had affected her as much as it did my other women, but while the Baroness was still capable of going to work each day, the others had gotten downright clingy.
After the first couple of days, I was able to force them into doing their own jobs around Falmount and the Oculus, but I did end up having to implement some shop rules about how many women could go down on me in a single workday. Initially, the limit had been two, but my women started working around this by comin
g back for seconds and thirds, which I needed to address.
Yesterday, Alfred politely pointed out that it was the fourth day in a row I’d had a woman tucked under my work table every time he delivered my meals, and apparently my production rate decreased by another two percent for each blow job.
I thanked the man for his attention to detail before I assured him I would take this information into consideration, but Cayla choked her way through a giggle and kept my cock buried in her mouth anyways.
Technically, it was already the princess’ second turn since breakfast, but I let her finish me off before I attempted to lay out a few caveats for the sake of productivity. Then Cayla smirked and wiped my cum from her lips in response, and Aurora showed up within minutes for her second turn like my dick was free real estate where their mouths were concerned.
So, I had the situation mostly under control, but while my women half-way followed my new rules, I gladly agreed to their rules without issue because I knew they were trying their best.
After Vasdor, my women’s mommy demons were on full alert, and I’d been informed about thirty times since then that separating ourselves during the upcoming siege was out of the question. None of these declarations had been prompted, though. They cropped up in the middle of breakfast, on our way to the market, or between orgasms as if I might have forgotten their stance on the matter, but I obviously hadn’t.
The truth was, I really didn’t think sticking together would unequivocally prevent my death, but I repeated my agreement as many times as they needed to hear it.
Not only to keep the mommy demons at bay, but also because it was practically a family tradition at this point. Killing shit was always more fun when we did it together, but more so now that my women were getting more violent by the hour.
Twice in the last week I’d gone hunting with Taru, and my women joined us both times for a group slaughter session in the eastern woods. Until our first trip out, I hadn’t realized how much blood my women wanted to see spewing from their victims these days, but now I knew, and the answer was all of the blood. Way, way more than I ever needed or wanted to see.
It was truly an extravagant amount of blood they were after.
The way my women giggled as they sliced through primary arteries was just about the cutest thing, though, so I chuckled with Taru from the sidelines while they painted the woods red with their kills, and their glittering smiles of victory honestly made my heart skip a beat.
At this point, I could hardly wait to unleash my women on the Master’s army again, and this was the only drawback to having obliterated his troops at the tunnels.
The Master hadn’t sent any attacks to Falmount since we destroyed the tunnel portals eleven days ago, but I knew better than to take this as a good sign. There was no doubt in my mind he had plenty more beasties prowling around in that fortress of his, and it was only a matter of time before he retaliated. The question was whether more than just my murdery women would be ready to march into his headquarters before that time came.
I picked up my work pace as the notion sent a fresh wave of anxiety through my limbs, and I was sliding another twenty rocket shells aside when I heard Cayla laughing in the lane with Aurora. Stan nearly took my eye out as he climbed straight up my face to reach his post on my head, and a few minutes later, Shoshanne, Aurora, and Cayla strolled into the atrium.
The three beautiful women giggled as they saluted Stan and left kisses on his metal cheeks, and I could sense his confidence skyrocketing before they even started on the compliments.
“Gods, you look twice as strong as you did this morning,” Aurora admired. “Have you been exercising since we left?”
“Did you polish your muscles just to get our attention?” Shoshanne teased.
“It’s his posture,” Cayla assured the women. “He stands like a little man who’s murdered thousands to protect the innocent.”
“He stands like a true hero should,” Aurora agreed.
“But a humble hero,” Shoshanne added. “You can tell he’s taking notes from Mason.”
I smirked to myself as my women fawned over Stan while he kept striking poses on my head, but then the metal man slid down my nose and returned to his very important task of knocking my work onto the floor one rocket at a time.
“How did it go at the training fields?” I asked as I glanced at my half-elf.
“Mason, you really have to find a moment to stop over there,” Aurora replied. “You’re going to love the improvements. The mages have outdone themselves by dedicating themselves to their craft lately, and with our allies training among them, everyone’s getting into a great rhythm combining their various talents.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said as I pulled Aurora over to kiss her. “I’m sure you put Abrus to shame out there.”
Aurora cracked a cocky smirk. “I probably do, and I look damn good in the process.”
“True,” Shoshanne laughed, “but forcing the younger Defenders to try and focus with your ass wagging around the field might delay our progress.”
“Hey, I want our Defenders prepared for anything,” Aurora informed the healer. “You never know what could happen out on the battlefield, and if they can handle this outfit, they can handle anything. This right here is just good leadership.”
The half-elf presented the ass in question, and as she turned in a full circle, I eyed the tiny triangle of velvet that was held in place at the apex of her thighs by nothing but two scraps of silk. Then I considered how tight her red corset was tied today, and I could have sworn her nipples used to reside lower from the bustline than they were right now.
“Isn’t this a little more risqué than your original uniform?” I checked.
“Maybe, but I can’t help it,” Aurora pouted. “Lately, I want to be naked all the time, so I figure this is better than that. Then I see you, though, and I have this overwhelming urge to rip my clothes off even when I’m standing in the street. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”
“I get it,” Shoshanne admitted as she leaned back against the table. “I woke up this morning, and my first thought was Mason should be kissing my nipples. It seemed like the most important thing in the world to me…”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Is that why I woke up with you shoving your breasts in my face?”
“Yes,” the healer sighed. “Sorry about that.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” I chuckled as I turned to Cayla. “How did it go in Cedis today?”
“Perfectly, of course,” the princess purred. “I think I’ve finally managed to convince my soldiers they can trust me not to kill them all, but I’m getting impatient watching them fumble to reload their revolvers all through training. It’s aggravating beyond explanation that these knights should take longer than me to reload, and I can’t decide if it’s a cylinder issue, or if it’s because they flinch whenever I walk by. Most of them drop their cartridges if I so much as look at them.”
“Well, the new pistols are supposed to arrive tomorrow,” I assured her. “Dragir said he’d get them runed first thing, and I’ve already finished twenty crates of magazines for them as well. By tomorrow, your entire army should be toting 1911s, so they can drop magazines instead. I hope your father got his leather workers started on those new holsters we talked about.”
“Oh, they were done days ago,” Cayla said as she waved a dismissive hand. “My father was so honored to hear you were personally arming our soldiers that he paid double the price to make sure we were equipped by the time the 1911s were finished.”
I grinned. “Davit’s a hell of a guy. You know that, right?”
“I do,” the princess snorted, “but to be fair, he has little competition. Qiran is probably the most disappointing father-in-law you could have gotten. Compared to him, your eels are more enjoyable company, and they make my skin crawl just to think about them.”
“My father is a good man,” Deya muttered as she came into the atrium, and she carefully balanced a platter f
ull of burgers in her hands. “He takes a while to warm up to others is all, but I’m certain he’ll grow to love Mason.”
“Deya, Mason has saved your father’s life, Dragir’s life, and your life,” Shoshanne pointed out. “He’s fought to defend your House against an army of possessed elves, and he just finished protecting all of Nalnora from a mass branding, too. If Qiran hasn’t warmed up to Mason yet, I don’t think he ever will.”
The beautiful elf sent me an embarrassed smile as her pink eyebrows crinkled, but I just shrugged.
“I honestly couldn’t care less,” I assured Deya. “Your father can be an ungrateful asshole all he likes. I still got you, and now we’re having a baby, so I’m more than happy with my lot in life. Besides, it’s kind of fun watching him hate on me now that Dragir’s his superior. When we stopped by the other day to go over the new prototype, Qiran told me I should feed my testicles to his dogs next time I visit. Then Dragir smacked him on the nose with a roll of parchment like he was killing a fly. It was awesome.”
“I heard about that,” Deya giggled. “You certainly bring out a very colorful side of him. I never knew my father had so many insults stored away all these years.”
“Speaking of storing things away,” Aurora muttered. “Were you planning on sharing any of those burgers with the rest of us?”
Deya looked down at the other four burgers in her lap, and she stuffed her massive bite in her cheek to respond.
“No, these are mine,” the elf informed us.
“Just because Mason eats them five at a time doesn’t mean this is the only way burgers are meant to be consumed,” Cayla clarified.
“Yes, but this tastes like the best way,” Deya mumbled.
“It is,” I chuckled with pride. “Five burgers at once has to be better for the baby than whole, raw griffins.”
Deya shrugged noncommittally at the idea, but then she bit off half a burger in one bite, and the silly smile she sent me made my grin stretch from ear to ear.
“I need to introduce you to chicken wings soon,” I decided as I turned back to my work. “I have a feeling the baby will love the variety of dipping options.”
