The Easily Defeated Hero's Monster Girl Adventure

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The Easily Defeated Hero's Monster Girl Adventure Page 60

by Amanda Clover


  One of the many Hina golems is waiting to greet you. These beautiful, blue-haired automatons seem to be made from porcelain and has large, glassy blue eyes. They maintain the palace and serve the guests. You are not sure if they are individuals or if each Hina is simply a different face of the same consciousness. If they are not then they have some way to communicate with each other that you cannot comprehend.

  “Master, Lady Theora,” says Hina, bowing to you each. “How may I serve you?”

  “I will be in my quarters,” says Theora, brushing past the Hina and heading towards the palace. “Making preparations to interrogate the vampiress.”

  “Oh, you know her?” Hina asks, watching Theora go. Her hips swivel unnaturally and her head rotates back to face you. “We have a new guest, master. She is in the crypts beneath the palace.”

  “I was not aware there were crypts,” you say.

  “Near the dungeon, master,” she says.

  “Of course, where the slime girl resides,” you say, starting towards the palace. Hina falls in beside you, walking with supernatural smoothness.

  “All of our guests are very eager to see you, master. That includes me. My pleasure crystals have been upgraded and I am ready to use new techniques.” She suggests, flashing her blue eyes momentarily rosy pink. “Would you like to test them out?”

  She runs her cold, porcelain hands over your shoulders hand up to your neck.

  “Ahhh, um….”

  You can’t forget that Theora warned you about Hina. The golem means well, but she is much stronger than a human and can get a bit carried away under the best circumstances.

  “Where would you like to go, master?” She asks cheerily.

  What do you do?

  Visit with Izabella the Vampiress

  Visit with Morelle the Novice Succubus

  Visit with Oola the Slime Girl

  Visit with Gretchen the Cow Girl

  Get more training from Theora the Angel of Veleda

  Spend some time with Hina the Golem Girl

  Wait for Theora to return

  You would rather not run off chasing this sleazy local and his promises of a housemaid from the castle. He is probably a robber waiting to thump you over the head and steal your necklace of Veleda.

  “I think I will finish drying out by the fire,” you say to Petrov. “Thank you for the offer though.”

  He shrugs and goes back to his drink. You saunter back over to your table by the fire and enjoy a fresh mug of burr cider from Rianna’s tray. She is too busy with other customers and apparently has decided that you are not interested in her. A pit, you think, as you enjoy watching her bustle from table to table and flirt with the other men.

  The tavern grows quieter as some patrons disappear into the night and others thump upstairs to their lodging. Theora returns from the inn’s upstairs, her fingertips powdery with chalk. She sees you and approaches your table.

  “I have prepared the rooms with wards against the undead,” she says, her silvery-blue eyes We won’t be bothered by any vampires or their thralls tonight. What have you managed to learn, other than how many mugs of that swill it takes to make you drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk,” you object, although now that you think about it you are a bit drunk.

  “So you’ve learned nothing?”

  “I’ve managed to pick up a few things,” you say and you tell Theora about the baroness, her husband, and the witch that has taken up residence at the castle. “There was also a guy here, I guess he left, but he said he knows a housemaid that works in the castle. He tried to get me to go with him. I figured I’d rather sit here by the fire.”

  “Your incurable laziness has likely spared you,” says Theora. “He was either a bandit or a thrall.”

  “A what?”

  “A human agent seduced or otherwise controlled by a vampire,” explains Theora. “They are like a slave, only they do not know they are a slave because they love the vampire that has dominated their mind. This is the way vampires spread their influence through the community. Her thralls could be anywhere.”

  “Really?” You look around the tavern at the last patrons remaining. A rather pale man with a patchy beard strikes you as the sort who might be enslaved by a vampire.

  “Not him,” says Theora, apparently following your gaze. “A vampire master would have cured his lung infection.”

  The man begins hacking and coughing, doubling over and drooling onto the tabletop. He wipes it away with his sleeve and looks over at you and Theora. His eyes narrow and he mutters and looks away.

  “A vampire will not desire a sickly servant,” she explains, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “She would have fed upon him and destroyed him.”

  “She doesn’t sound very nice,” you say.

  “Mmmmm. Let us get some rest. It will be safer hunting for you in the daylight tomorrow. Vampires are able to be awake in the Nightlands even during the day, but they will be weakened.”

  “A lovely place,” you say, leaving a coin as a tip for Rianna and following Theora up the stairs. Two doors stand open in the upstairs hallway. Chalk markings and sanctified salt form a supernatural barrier inside the doorway of each of the rooms. You look at Theora dubiously. “That scribbling will keep the undead out of our room?”

  “Rooms. Plural.” Her eyes flash with irritation. “I could not rely upon the power of Veleda to protect us here, so I had to rely upon the primitive magic of the humans. These wards will hold any vampires or ghouls at bay. They might not be effective against ghosts.”

  You glance at Theora with her radiant mane of golden hair and her proud beauty. Her ample breasts, visible beneath the sheerness of her gown, would be finer pillows than some flea-bitten old sack of feathers.

  “Maybe we would be safer if we bunked together,” you suggest hopefully.

  “We will be safer if you focus on your holy mission,” she says in a scolding tone. “The time for amusement has passed.”

  She gives you a push into the nearest room.

  “Goodnight, Lucas,” she says firmly. “Attempt not to think about the ravenous blood drinkers that inhabit the Nightlands.”

  She closes the door before you can offer any rejoinder.

  CONTINUE >

  Evade her questions

  You’ve been thumped over the head by her greasy accomplice and tied to the chair by the buxom lesser vampiress Anyja. You are not about to repay such treachery with the truth.

  “I will not answer you, blood-sucking harlot,” you snarl.

  “Oh, so defiant for such a handsome young lad,” she laughs. She runs her hands from your shoulder down your chest. She straddles your lap and pulls her skirt tight as she sits her plump bottom on your lap. The softness of her bum presses against your manhood. Your cock stirs traitorously beneath her. “Mmmmm, don’t you like me, Lucas?”

  “No, you are a parasite,” you say. “My father read me stories about your kind.”

  “What, a woman? A whore?” She scoffs. “Your father must not’ve seen tits like these!”

  She squeezes her bust in both hands, nearly pushing her creamy mounds out of her tight bodice. You groan at the sight, your cock twitching against the press of her bum.

  “Mmmmmm, still not going to talk, eh?” She slides off your lap, down to her knees before you. Her hands stroke your lap and squeeze your stiff cock through your trousers. “You had better talk, Lucas.”

  “Never,” you growl. “You can have my blood, but I’ll not tell you a single word of the truth.”

  “Ah, but your cock speaks truth for you,” she laughs. “You’ll be pleading with me to cum soon enough. Then maybe you’ll answer my questions.”

  “Pleading with you to… ohhhhh…” Your words fade as she pops your hard cock through the fly of your trousers and begins to suck you. Her mouth is wet and surprisingly cool, but her soft lips and deft suction more than compensate for her cold body. She looks up at you with reddish brown eyes as she bobs on your cock, pushing an e
rrant strand of mud-brown hair from her pale face.

  “Mmmmmm,” she moans around your manhood, her devilish tongue flicking at your leaking slit and her lips popping wetly around the swollen cap of your cock. She pulls her mouth free, her fangs menacing as she teases them against your cockhead. “Ohhhhh, Lucas, answer my questions. Who was that woman with you at the tavern? Why are you here?”

  “I won’t tell you… anything… I… ohhhhh…”

  Your words trail off into another groan of pleasure as she resumes sucking you. Anja is as talented with her mouth as Morelle, the succubus. She clearly has experience pleasuring men and you feel your orgasm tightening in your balls and thrumming inside your hard cock. You jerk against the ropes binding you, trying to fuck deeper into her wet mouth.

  “Mmmmm, not yet,” she says, pulling her mouth from your cock again. She grips your shaft at the root and teases your cockhead with the tip of her tongue. “Answer my questions and you can fill my mouth with your hot cum, Lucas.”

  “Ohhhhhh,” you groan, your mind reeling from the pleasure. What would it hurt? If she kills you then Veleda will rescue you anyway.

  What do you do?

  Surrender to the pleasure and tell her

  Keep evading her questions

  Command her to get on her knees and take her from behind

  You push Rianna and her smothering tits away and slide from beneath her to sit face-to-face. She looks at you curiously, cupping her breasts and idly playing with her nipples.

  “Somethin’ wrong?” She asks.

  “Not wrong,” you say. “Just making up my mind about what I want.”

  “Aw, well I can help ya decide on that, love,” she purrs, reaching for your cock. You push her hand away.

  “I’m going to fuck you from behind,” you say with a harsh gleam in your eyes. “Get on your knees and bend over. Show me that big, juicy bar wench ass.”

  Her eyes widen with surprise at your unexpected dominance. Despite your change in demeanor, she reacts quite favorably, smiling and obeying your command with haste. She kneels on the bed, her face down in the lumpy mattress and her round ass lifted high behind her. She reaches back to pull her skirt up her back and bare her shin socks and her plain white underwear cinched into the creamy expanse of her ample bottom.

  “Go on then, love,” she says encouragingly and wiggles her ass. “Give me that cock. Right in me little pussy.”

  She pulls her panties aside to show you her fleshy furrow, glistening pink and shorn hairless. You growl, hooking your fingers into the waist of her underwear and stripping them down her jiggling buttocks and the backs of her thick thighs. Your lust surges and you free your cock from your shorts and guide it to Rianna’s pouting cunt. No teasing or play; you steady her with one hand on her shapely hip and thrust forward, sheathing every inch of your hard cock in the hot, slick depths of Rianna’s pussy.

  “Ohhhhhh! Ya got a good one, love! That’s it! Fuck me!”

  “I don’t need to be told,” you snap, taking hold of her hips with both hands and plundering her hot pussy with every stroke. Your hips slap loudly against her soft ass, making her cheeks shudder and pressing her face down even harder into the mattress. Your bollocks thump against her clit with every stroke and Rianna, evidently surprised by your forceful fucking, cries out loudly each time you bury your cock in her cove.

  You reach down and grab a handful of Rianna’s scarlet hair and yank her head up off the bed. She pushes up onto her hands and you pull her head up, using her hair as leverage as you plow the hot furrow of her cunt. You slam into her clutching channel, sending her dangling tits swinging with each smacking impact of your hips against her ass. She moans and you don’t care; all that matters is the explosive pleasure building in your cock.

  She’s not tight like Theora or Morelle, but her pussy is hot and squeezing around you, and her big ass is a lovely target for each thrust. Watching it jiggle with each thrust, you smack her ass and spread her cheeks, getting a good look at her fat asshole. You spit on it noisily and she whimpers as your bubbly saliva splatters into her crack. You grab the meat of her ass with one hand and begin to roughly rub her spit-swamped asshole.

  “W-what are you doing?” Moans Rianna, her words coming out between each slam of your hips.

  “Whatever I please,” you chuckle, feeling her asshole tense beneath your thumb. Your words are not really an answer, more of an affirmation. You stroke her tensed pucker with your thumb and slam your cock into Rianna’s wet cunt. As the pressure of your orgasm builds, you growl savagely and consider how you want to finish your fun with the naughty bar wench.

  What are you going to do?

  Finish in Rianna's pussy

  Fuck Rianna's ass

  Strike her down!

  Her beauty and act of vulnerability do little to calm your righteous fervor. Whatever the baroness was like as a young woman, you do not know, but this thing that kneels before you and coos like a pitiful beggar is not Baroness Lydia Carminus. It is a vampire and it must be destroyed!

  “You are tainted with evil!” You cry and raise your sword above your head with both hands. The blade ignites and blazes with holy flame.

  “No, please,” cries the baroness. “You cannot! I am unarmed! I will give you pleasure with my body if you spare me!”

  “You must face the judgment of Veleda!” You roar. “Be quiet and take it with dignity!”

  “You will never defeat her!” The baroness screeches, her face suddenly twisting into a gruesome mask of anger. “She is more powerful than your false goddess!”

  You swing your sword in an incandescent arc. The blow is aimed to sever the baroness’s head from her slender shoulders. Instead, when the blow lands upon her neck, there is a feeling as if you have struck iron. This impact is accompanied by a blinding flash of light. You are thrown backwards, landing in a sprawl on the floor of the castle and losing your grip on your sword. It lands with a clang.

  The afterimage of the flash fades from your eyesight and you realize that the baroness is still there, head still attached to her body as she weakly stirs. She looks at you with blue eyes reddened from crying. Her face is deeply flushed.

  “I’m… I’m alive again,” she says. “I did such terrible things! Oh, gods, I killed my servants. I helped her enslave the town! Ohhhhh!”

  The baroness pulls her knees against her chest, holding them tightly and rocking back and forth as she softly recounts each victim she has either fed upon or helped Izabella, the witch, to feed upon. You climb to your feet and stagger over to her, resting a comforting hand upon her trembling shoulder.

  “It’s alright,” you say, when she has finished. “You were not yourself.”

  “Don’t you see?” She looks up at you with tears streaming down her face. “I brought Izabella here. I invited her into my lands – into my home – and her evil too so many lives!”

  “Your vampirism has been cured,” you say. “The goddess has given you mercy. She has forgiven you, baroness. You must forgive yourself.”

  She begins to speak and then seems to recall something that startles her.

  “The witch is still here! Down in the crypts!” She rises to her feet with purpose and wipes away her tears. “You must stop her, Lucas. That sword, that holy blessing; you have the strength to defeat her!”

  She snatches up a candelabrum and shouts, “Come, Lucas! I will take you to her lair.”

  She leads you down a spiral staircase and into the cool, dank air of what is clearly a dungeon. Shackles hang from the stone walls and the doors of several cells stand open. There are tables, chairs, bucks, and rows of weapons and helms as if this also served as a barracks for the castle guard. There are no prisoners and no guards down here. You feel a tremor of fear as you wonder what happened to both groups.

  “She usually is not awake so early in the day,” says the baroness, her gown sweeping softly over the stone floor as she leads you into the deeper darkness of the crypt. “She knows so much about
what goes on in the castle. I fear she will expect you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I must face her.”

  Your footsteps echo behind her as you descend more staircases into a world of darkness and the faint smell of death.

  “Twenty generations of my husband’s family are buried in the crypts,” says the baroness. “Including my husband.”

  She holds the light out to a huge stone sarcophagus marked with recent inscriptions.

  “I thought the witch could save him when he fell ill,” she says, tracing the carved face on the sarcophagus. “I fear her dark magic only hastened his death. She took him from me.”

  You rest your hand over hers and gently squeeze.

  “I will avenge him, baroness. I will strike her down for the sake of Ulvenblad.”

  “Thank you, Lucas,” she said, nodding slightly. “It isn’t much farther. Just down the stairs and through the door to her private chamber.”

  “Remain here,” you say firmly. “I will deal with her.”

  You light a candle from a nearby sconce and descend alone into the older crypts. You reach a simple door of oiled blackwood set into the hallway. Tracks in the dust on the floor suggest it has been opened and closed recently.

  There is no other way forward. The ancient crypts must continue through this door, housing past generations of the baron’s family.

  CONTINUE >

  Use Startle Eye

  You swing your sword and just barely catch Izabella’s raking claw before it slashes open your chest. You deflect her attack with a grunt of effort and raise your guard again. You have to act and, inspired by the gloom of her lair in the crypt, you decide to conjure the holy power of Veleda’s light.

  “Give it up, Lucas,” sneers Izabella. “You are not fast enough or strong enough to best me. I can tear out your heart or I can end you with pleasure. The choice is yours.”

 

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