The Potion's Grip
The old temple on the western frontier. Afternoon sunlight stretched long across the corridors, yet the temple's characteristic chill lingered in the air.
"Ugh... it's cold..."
The new priestess Chloe shivered as she scrubbed the floor with a rag. She had dreamed of advancing to the central temple, but as a commoner with neither connections nor money, all she received was an assignment to this remote outpost.
I never had to do this back when I was at the academy.
She sighed, vigorously rubbing the rag against the floor. During her academy days, she had been famous among the commoners for her striking beauty. Her striking features and well-proportioned figure stood out even among noble young ladies. Thanks to that, she had drawn the gazes of countless male students—and she had enjoyed every moment of it. Of course, there had also been a few pathetic boys who stared without knowing their place.
What was his name again? Hans, was it?
An utterly unremarkable classmate who always lurked in the corners. The memory of his vacant stares made Chloe frown.
How disgusting. Just sharing the same space with someone like that gives me chills.
That was when she heard it—steady footsteps approaching from the far end of the corridor. Thud. Thud. Chloe stopped working and lifted her head.
"Ah..."
Her breath caught in her throat.
A woman strode toward her, black uniform fluttering beneath a cloak embroidered with a crimson cross. It was Inquisitor Lucia. A living legend, demoted to this frontier post because of her uncompromising integrity despite her noble bloodline.
To Chloe, Lucia was an idol incarnate.
She's beautiful...
That cold expression, that perfectly measured stride. Chloe stared, entranced. As Lucia passed by, she suddenly stopped.
"You there, the new recruit."
The cool voice pierced straight through Chloe's skull.
"Y-yes! New priestess Chloe reporting!"
Chloe shot to her feet and bowed her head in a panic. Lucia's gaze settled on the rolled-up sleeve at Chloe's wrist.
"This is a sacred place. Rolling up your sleeves for convenience is acceptable, but leaving them disheveled shows disrespect to the divine."
Lucia reached out. Her pale fingers brushed Chloe's wrist as she carefully and firmly straightened the crooked sleeve.
"A disordered mind leads to disordered faith. The state of one's attire reflects the state of one's heart."
"I-I'll keep that in mind!"
Chloe's face flushed crimson. Lucia's hand touched me. That noble hand fixed my worthless sleeve. Overwhelmed with emotion, Chloe stood frozen as Lucia added in a detached tone:
"Have you eaten?"
"Pardon...? Ah, not yet..."
"Don't skip meals. A healthy body is required for divine power to dwell within."
With those words, Lucia continued on her way. Chloe remained standing there, dazed, until the inquisitor's figure disappeared.
She's warm... She looks cold on the outside, but to think she's actually so caring inside.
Chloe made a vow. She would dedicate her life to this temple. She would serve Lady Lucia and follow in her noble footsteps.
But as Lucia walked down the corridor, her mind was occupied with entirely different thoughts.
I need to finish that proposal quickly once I reach my office.
Her steps quickened.
Hans... just wait. I'm coming. This time I'll set up residence right beside you and receive purification every single day.
The smile on Lucia's lips had nothing to do with sanctity—it gleamed with obsession and desire.
The Viscount's estate in Ludel. The study.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the antique desk where a middle-aged woman sat. Ophilia. Viscountess of Ludel and mother of Elise. She was reviewing a mountain of estate management documents.
"Haa..."
She set down her pen and let out a deep sigh. Boredom. Ennui. Noisy voices drifted in from outside. Ophilia turned to look and saw her husband, the viscount, being carried in by his friends, completely drunk.
"Easy now, my lord! Careful!"
"Ehehe... Bring more drinks! I'm buying today!"
Ophilia clicked her tongue in disdain.
"That man... I wonder what he finds so enjoyable about this."
Eighteen years of marriage. Their sexless state had lasted for quite some time now. She had even had him investigated on the off chance he was having an affair, but the man showed no interest in women whatsoever. He spent his days drinking and carousing exclusively with other men. If only he had cheated, she might at least have grounds for divorce. Incompetent, harmless, and utterly worthless—a mere ornament. That was Ophilia's assessment of her husband.
"My lady, would you care for more tea?"
Mari stood there holding a teapot, having entered without a sound. Ophilia extended her cup.
"Mari. That man Elise keeps singing about at every meal."
"Yes. You mean Hans."
"Right. Elise keeps going on about some grand duke or prince. What kind of man could possibly make my daughter lose her composure like that?"
Mari poured the tea with a flat, emotionless voice.
"He's merely a rather handsome commoner adventurer. He doesn't appear to possess any special abilities, and his personality seems somewhat indecisive."
"Hmm."
"Also... his relationships with women appear quite complicated."
Ophilia's hand paused.
"Complicated relationships with women?"
"Yes. It seems he's entangled with the innkeeper, the guild receptionist, and even the captain of the guard."
Ophilia's eyes narrowed. A mere commoner adventurer, yet he had bewitched all the prominent women in town?
"How interesting."
Ophilia smiled faintly over the rim of her teacup.
"Well done, Mari. You may go."
Once Mari had bowed and left, Ophilia remained alone in the study, murmuring softly to herself.
"If my daughter is so utterly captivated... perhaps his skills in bed are exceptional?"
A small ripple stirred in her monotonous daily life.
"Hans... I think I'd like to meet him."
A dangerous curiosity began to gleam in her eyes.
Seven o'clock in the evening. The dining hall on the first floor of the Moonlight Shelter inn.
A mountain of nourishing dishes had been laid out on Hans's table. Golden-brown grilled eel, fresh oysters with lemon, garlic herb stir-fry to boost vitality, and a thick, specially prepared stew. The table legs looked ready to buckle.
"Here, eat plenty, Hans."
Masa sat across from him in an apron, chin resting on her hands. Her eyes were already feasting. She licked her lips as her gaze roamed over every inch of Hans's sturdy body.
"Don't leave a single drop of broth. You'll need your strength tonight."
Hans gripped his spoon, cold sweat trickling down his back.
"Um... Masa, there's just so much food..."
"Oh my, don't be weak. You'll need at least this much to last all night."
Masa scooped up an oyster with her spoon and brought it to Hans's mouth.
"Say ah~"
Hans squeezed his eyes shut and accepted the bite. The briny yet rich flavor of the sea filled his mouth. Under Masa's relentless gaze, he kept moving his spoon without pause. Every time a plate emptied, a new dish took its place, and Hans's stomach swelled to its limit.
It tastes good, but... isn't my stomach actually going to burst?
He forced the food down. He had no choice. If he stopped, Masa looked ready to chew it up and feed him herself.
Through the gap in the kitchen door, a pair of eyes watched the scene. Ben. His gaze was dull and lifeless.
My cooking... my devotion...
The dishes he had prepared with such care were being used as an aphrodisiac for his rival, fueling a night of passion with the woman he loved. Was there any reality more miserable than this?
Ben clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms until blood welled up, yet he felt no pain.
"I'll kill him..."
But his muttering lacked conviction. The hand gripping the kitchen knife trembled violently.
Ten o'clock at night. Hans's room on the second floor of the inn.
"Haa... haa..."
Hans lay spread-eagled on the bed, breathing heavily. His stomach felt ready to burst. Having nearly finished all the nourishing food Masa had prepared, his belly was stretched taut.
Now... it's starting.
The door opened without a sound. Along with the cool air from the corridor came the warm, damp heat of Masa, fresh from her bath. Hans drew in a breath. Water droplets fell from her wet hair, tracing paths down her pale neck. Her moist skin gleamed with an alluring sheen beneath the lamplight. And the only thing she wore was a single, sheer slip.
Through the black lace, the full curves of her breasts, her narrow waist, and the dark silhouette of the forest below were laid bare.
"Did you wait long?"
Masa approached with a seductive smile, a small brown bottle in her hand.
[Bull's Strength]
The problematic aphrodisiac Hans had purchased earlier that day.
"Here, as promised."
Masa sat beside the bed and brought the bottle to Hans's lips.
"Drink."
There was no refusing. Hans swallowed the liquid with a gulp. The moment the fiery liquid slid down his throat and reached his stomach—
"......!"
An explosion erupted inside him. It felt as though a blazing fireball had detonated in his gut. His face burned, his heart pounded like a pump, and blood seemed to surge backward through his veins. All that blood began rushing toward one particular place.
"Ugh...!"
Hans groaned and twisted his body. His manhood swelled until it felt ready to burst, straining violently against his trousers. It wasn't quite on the level of Yuria's love gel, which had completely robbed him of reason. But his senses... they had become far too sensitive. The texture of the blanket against his skin, the flow of air, even Masa's breathing—everything registered as stimulation.
"Haa... Masa..."
Hans looked at her with hazy eyes. She appeared a hundred times more seductive than usual. He wanted to sink his teeth into that pale neck. He wanted to bury his face in those ample breasts. An unbearable physical craving surged through him.
"Oh my... goodness."
Masa's gaze locked onto the front of Hans's trousers. This was no ordinary tent. A massive shape strained upward as though it might tear through the fabric, like a steel club hidden beneath.
"This potion... it's something else."
Masa licked her lips, silently cheering in triumph.
I should buy a whole box in advance.
She crept closer to Hans.
"Hehe, my dear. You even bought the potion during the day... were you that desperate? Big sis will make sure you can't even stand on your shaking legs tonight."
She nibbled lightly on his earlobe and whispered, her sticky, provocative tone melting his reason. As she reached out to caress his chest—
Thud!
Hans roughly grabbed her wrist.
"Kyaa!"
Masa cried out in surprise. In an instant, Hans pushed her down onto the bed. Thump. The soft mattress bounced beneath them.
"Hans...?"
Masa looked up in confusion. His eyes had changed. No longer the usual gentle, clumsy gaze—this was the look of a predator eyeing its prey. No, the gaze of a male intent on conquering a female.
"I'm sorry, Masa. I think I'm going to be rather rude tonight."
Hans's voice was low and commanding.
"Right now... I'm not in my right mind."
The suppressed tone, laced with rough breathing, sent a shiver of excitement through Masa. He pushed his knee between her legs and pressed his full weight down upon her.
"Haa..."
A gasp escaped Masa's lips. He was heavy. But that weight felt incredibly thrilling. Without a word, Hans pulled down the straps of her slip. Her white collarbones came into view, followed by the deep valley between her full breasts. Hans extended his tongue and licked slowly from her collarbone up to that valley.
"Hnng...!"
Masa's body trembled. Hans smiled at her reaction, the corner of his mouth lifting. Swish. The slip slid down to her waist. Nothing remained on Masa's body. For tonight, she had come wearing neither bra nor panties.
"Masa... you look incredibly sexy right now."
Hans's hand slid without hesitation along the inside of her thigh. The place already damp with excitement. He stirred his fingers at her entrance, coating them in her slick fluids.
"Aah! Hans! There...!"
Masa's body jerked like a live fish. Her heated moans filled the room. Hans unbuckled his belt. Thwack! His freed manhood sprang forth, veins bulging red and angry. Masa swallowed hard at the sight of its imposing form.
"Pardon me."
The moment the words left his mouth, Hans thrust in with a single motion.
Thrust—!
"Aaaah!"
Masa's head snapped back. The heavy joining. Hans's hips slammed against her buttocks with a dull sound. She was full—completely, perfectly filled—and her vision went white.
"Haa... haa... Masa..."
Hans pinned both her arms above her head. Looking down at her, he began to thrust his hips.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Aah! Hans! So deep! I love it! Harder!"
Masa bucked her hips and cried out in ecstasy. Her usual composed, big-sister demeanor had vanished. Crushed beneath Hans's overwhelming force, only the expression of a female chasing pleasure remained. Perhaps it was thanks to the potion—Hans showed no signs of fatigue. Endless pumping. Masa's eyes rolled back as she reached climax multiple times. The pleasure was incomparable to anything she'd experienced with her ex-husband. It felt as though her brain were melting.
"Honey... honey... give me more...!"
She unconsciously called him her husband. No—in this moment, Hans was truly her husband. Hans paid no heed to the word, completely absorbed in the act of thrusting. It was a night when instinct had completely devoured reason.