Peephole
"How's your mana?"
Did he pick up on the discomfort in my tone? Leon glanced at me cautiously before opening his mouth.
"Ah, I think I can still cast it twice more."
Thanks to hunting down dozens of goblins up to today, his mana seemed to have increased a bit. I mulled it over for a moment and laid out my policy for the future.
"Leon, from now on, can you focus mainly on support spells?"
From what I'd looked into, unless you were a proper supporter like Daphne, support magic in this world was pretty fringe stuff for orthodox mages. It didn't consume much mana, but in exchange, there were a lot of half-assed spells with low growth potential. So what I was saying now—considering the tower's trait of granting skills based on actions—was basically asking him to scrap his entire tech tree. Instead of becoming a flashy glass cannon slinging high-damage spells, I wanted him to turn into a pathetic window cleaner firing off lame-ass magic.
And sure enough, Leon's face stiffened at my words. Whatever. I kept talking casually. He was the sinner here, after all.
"As you know, our party's firepower is more than enough—hell, it's overflowing."
It was blatantly obvious that the party was creaking because the rest of us, excluding Leon, were too strong. Throwing a tantrum and getting kicked out here would be ridiculous, so a so-called gamer like him had only one obvious move.
"Got it. I'll try to support the party as much as I can."
"Thanks, Leon."
"Nah, it's right to adapt flexibly to the party."
As I'd expected, Leon bobbed his head vigorously, convinced his choice was spot-on. In those old-school fantasy novels, you sometimes saw mages toying with enemies using bizarre spells, right? Seeing him nod like that, I figured he was aiming to be one of those. Of course, that future only had a chance if we kept partying together, but watching him smirk and pledge to himself alone was just fucking hilarious.
Despite my shady inner thoughts, I thanked him again, and the faces of Daphne and Tier—who'd been watching us anxiously—brightened up. As long as the shit didn't hit the fan, we had a solid shot at climbing to the 4th floor today.
"Alright! Let's get back to it."
While we talked, Tier and Daphne had sliced off the goblins' fingers. The leather pouch they handed me felt heavy as hell.
+++
After tweaking our combat policy, the party pushed forward without a hitch. Proving that everyone except Leon was a high-grade character, we were handling goblins while chatting casually. Leon, too, gained some confidence as the party's pace picked up post-position change—his incantations boomed louder.
"Grease!"
At Leon's chant, goblins slipped and fell in a slapstick comedy. I ripped out the throat of the one I was fighting, then stomped the face of a toppled one. Its head burst with a crunch, limbs going limp.
"Bind!"
Another of Leon's spells froze a goblin mid-move, and Tier's twin blades whirlwinded through to end the fight.
With most goblin packs cleared, the group relaxed, slumping on a wide rock to shake blood off their gear.
"Good work, everyone."
"Wow~! We're probably the first adventurers to climb to the 4th floor this fast!"
Daphne washed us with her spirits, smiling brightly in high spirits, while Tier nodded with a lazy expression.
"Didn't expect it to be this efficient. Thanks for the advice, Berg."
"No biggie. It's your skill."
Leon seemed to think the party's improvement was all thanks to his position switch—his puffed-up shoulders said it all.
'We could do it fine without you, you little shit.'
His occasional support spells were helpful at first, but they'd long since become worthless to our strengthening party. Only the healer Daphne and the idiot Leon didn't realize it. Who plans moves around enemies suddenly freezing, slipping, or flailing in battle? Unexpected variables mid-fight are just disruptions. Tier was keeping quiet because she was watching my mood. Adorable as fuck.
'Breeding sex again tonight.'
I sidled up to Tier and groped her ass discreetly. She flinched and turned, her eyes brimming with anticipation.
I flashed her a deep smile, then started slicing goblin fingers into pouches. Once we'd stripped the corpses clean, all four of us had heavy leather pouches at our waists.
"Isn't this too many?"
"If we have extras, we can turn them in on-site. No worries."
"Ah! Yeah, that works."
We'd collected around 200 fingers—double the quest requirement. Repeat quests like this usually allowed on-site submissions.
I turned to the chattering group, pondering our reward spending.
"Next floor has the floor boss at the stairs. Any thoughts?"
5th floor's stair boss was a shaman goblin—nothing tough. Leon spoke up after a moment's thought.
"Stair boss is a shaman goblin, so no real prep needed. How about we push tomorrow?"
His overconfident vibe, like he was some key player now, made me want to puke, but I nodded.
"Tier? Daphne?"
"Yes! I'm for it."
"Yeah, sounds good."
The wives were sick of goblins too, so they were on board. If the girls wanted to go, we go. Nausea faded into refreshment.
"Then, tomorrow straight to the 5th."
With that settled, we stood and moved out. Clearing one or two more packs would finish the floor. Despite the heavy load, steps were light.
+++
Without incident, we cleared the 4th floor and returned to the city. Delivering the quest items netted more money and attention than expected.
The quest was a long-term one for newbies—not meant for one-day clears. Overachieving it drew eyes and buzz, naturally.
Leon, hyped up, wanted a celebratory feast, but with rumors spreading, the inn hall got annoying fast. We headed to our rooms.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Night, Tier."
With Tier—cheeks flushed—slipping out, Daphne was left alone.
"Hoo..."
She sighed naturally. Pairing up meant switching rooms right away. Tier moved next door to her old double with Berg. Daphne wanted a single, but Tier convinced her to share sometimes, so she kept it—and now felt abandoned.
Lips pursed at Tier's audacity, she soon giggled. That Tier, showing girly lovesickness? Priceless.
'Gotta spread the word back home. Hehe.'
Both Tier's tribe and Daphne's village would freak. Feeling cheerful, she changed amid creeping fatigue. Tomorrow: stair boss showdown. Needed rest.
"Kh... ah...!"
"Hm?"
A weird sound made Daphne look around.
"What?"
She settled on the bed, but a tickling noise wormed into her ear.
"Heh... k...!"
Sensing wrongness, she stood and scanned the room. Spotting something off by the bed, she approached shakily.
Gulp.
Up close: a small hole at knee height. Her heart raced with suspicion. That led to Tier and Berg's new double room, right? The voice she'd heard briefly was Tier's.
Debating if peeking on friends was right, her feet moved anyway. Knees bent slowly.
Tension like battle; heavy breaths unnoticed as she peered in.
"Keurgh! Heuk! Heuk!"
Splat! Thud! Thud! Splat!
Through the hole: Tier and Berg in beast-like position. Berg smothering Tier on all fours. His long, thick meat rod relentlessly churned her depths. White fluid oozed endlessly from their join, foaming into a filthy mess.
Daphne lost herself to the raw sex scene slamming her brain via eyes.
Elves born from world tree branches couldn't impregnate like other races—sex symbolized lewd depravity for them. Raised that way, seeing fabled copulation left her blank.
"Haaah!"
Berg bit Tier's shoulder hard; her ecstatic moan hit Daphne's ears. Only then did she exhale.