2-12 The Kingdom Has Fallen (Sion - Bondage Aphrodisiac Restraint Neglect Torture♥) (1)
The capital Berthel was as packed with food stalls and spectacles as its streets were glamorous and grand. Especially the desserts here—famous for their variety and extravagance. As a religious city bound by church doctrines, most regular dishes were bland and plain, so desserts had evolved in defiance, flourishing in every direction.
Today's spot was one of Berthel's famous chain dessert shops. Gaon wasn't much for sweets, but Heart adored them. Come to think of it, their first meeting had been at a dessert place in Stonevic. This was no different—Heart had dragged him here by force. Gaon himself couldn't care less about desserts or sweets. His one true love was chicken paired with beer.
"Whoa."
Gaon marveled at the glass bowl on the table. It was a parfait—but towering like a mountain. Easily thirty centimeters high, even excluding the glass. An upside-down cone-shaped parfait glass piled with colorful fruits, assorted whipped creams and yogurts, unidentifiable rainbow jelly beans and cornflakes, more whipped cream and yogurt and ice cream, chocolate sticks and crepe-like chips, another heap of cream, and finally a vibrant assortment of tropical fruits on top. Strawberries, peaches, bananas, melons—these were familiar from his old world—but there were also exotic fruits he'd never seen before, all piled high. They looked edible atop the dessert, though their flavors were a mystery. At least they smelled divine.
"Hey, Heart."
"Yes, Gaon?"
"You can really eat all this?"
"? Of course. Isn't this something anyone can handle?"
No way in hell, he thought. Undaunted, Heart plunged her spoon boldly into the parfait. She scooped up a massive dollop of cream and shoved it into her mouth with a waaah.
Good lord. The sight alone was shocking. So violent. Just watching made his tongue go numb and his stomach shrink. But Heart didn't stop, devouring the parfait with relentless gusto.
Gaon watched her, then started on his own with a spoon. First, a cream-smeared banana chunk. ...Mmm! Delicious. He doubted he could finish a monstrosity this size, but he got why Heart attacked it so fiercely.
Still, no way she finishes the whole thing.
As he targeted the cookies between cream layers, a familiar message window popped up before his eyes. He glanced at it, then called out.
"Heart, you know where the Leveille Kingdom is?"
"Leveille, sir?"
Heart looked up from assaulting the parfait's base.
"Out of nowhere? It's a small country southeast of here, pretty far out. Nothing special, but close to the sea, so it has a decent-sized port for its size."
She added that it was famous for seafood dishes. Gaon loved chicken, but seafood too—especially grilled shellfish over charcoal. Freshly pulled clams soaked in briny seawater needed no seasoning to be perfect. He'd never given it much thought before, but now he craved it fiercely. And soon, he wouldn't be able to have Leveille's clams anymore.
"It's done for. The kingdom."
"......? Pardon?"
Too abrupt—Heart blinked in confusion. Gaon chuckled dryly and explained.
"This Leveille place? It's gone."
Even for a kingdom he'd never heard of, news this big triggered a notification. Army of Ruin. Cultists. Monsters they'd summoned. Hitor's Giant. Each term stirred long-forgotten memories.
'The event's progressing faster than expected.'
'Might not have much time.'
When the cultists rampage and successfully summon their seeds, the King of Ruin descends. Even without all five seeds, it descends anyway—the more seeds summoned, the sooner it comes. Players delay it by stopping summons or slaying the seeds. Raiding spawned ones yielded massive EXP and rare materials, but at the cost of troops and hero units—so best avoided...
That was the gist of what he remembered from reviews. Detailed traits of each seed were listed too, but he'd skimmed those. Maybe just representative images stuck in his mind. That giant was... insanely huge and ugly, he recalled.
And, and—
"......"
He wracked his brain for more review details. Something important nagged at him. Time in this world, plus nonstop action, had blurred his Earth memories. Key bits remained sharp, but the rest...
As he pondered, they arrived at Mera Laundry—home sweet home now. Holiday today: [Close] sign up, first floor dark. He brushed the sign aside, unlocked the door, and stepped into the quiet ground floor. Amy and the others were upstairs, leaving it empty.
Groping along the entry wall toward the stairs, he reached for the magic stone lamp switch. Just as his fingers brushed it—shiiik!
"Gaon?!"
A wind-cutting whoosh, like it'd been waiting. Then a vicious red blade kissed his nape. Razor-sharp, murderously so. But Gaon was unscathed. The blade halted just shy of his skin, twitching closer then farther in threat.
"......."
Gaon eyed the blade from the darkness, then flipped the wall switch. Circuits hummed, lamps flickered on dimly. There stood the red-haired saintess—naked. Utterly nude, wielding a blood-forged knife at him.
"You startled me."
"I'll... kill you."
Her voice brimmed with murderous rage. But her face and body betrayed instability. Deep flush on her cheeks, sweat beading on her forehead like she fought some agony. Legs trembled despite her defiant stance; nipples blatantly erect from afar. Her ragged breaths, lust-glazed glare, and dripping crotch screamed her true state. No hiding it.
"The drug's working well, huh, Saintess."
"......."
"But don't you know 'wait'? Why'd you break out on your own? What about the restraints I set?"
"Die... die, die, die, you trash!!"
"Would've been nicer with some wit."
Gaon smirked slyly, leaning his throat toward her blood scythe. The blade recoiled, dodging his neck. He pressed closer; it fled farther.
"......!"
Sharon gritted her teeth, straining her arm—but futile. Pushed back by her own retreating knife, she toppled onto her ass with a thud.
Clang! The blade hit the floor, melted into air, and vanished.
"Too bad, Saintess. A bit more and you'd have tagged me."
Sharon glared up at his smug grin with quivering eyes. Her mouth opened and closed, then she bit her lip and bowed her head in defeat.
Gaon said nothing, just patted her head.
......
Leaving Sharon, he headed upstairs. Sion greeted him.
Ugh... ugh... mmph...
The bitch prophet huddled in the living room corner, writhing as if enduring torment. Muffled moans leaked past her gag. Bound in pitch-black leather restraints: arms pinned to block masturbation, blindfold heightening sensitivity, legs immobilized too.
Dosed and slathered with his fresh aphrodisiac brew before leaving, a slick puddle pooled beneath her thighs. As Gaon approached, she shuddered violently, thrusting her hips forward like displaying her clit and pussy in desperate pride. They ached for attention.
Gaon unbound her blindfold, gag, and leather cuffs. She collapsed forward onto the floor. He dangled the dessert shop bag before her eyes.
"Brought tasty desserts. Not for that defiant saintess bitch—but good-girl Sion gets a reward."
"...Re... ward...?"
"Yeah. Reward. Pick one. So, Sion—which do you want? Dessert, or my cock?"
Sion eyed the swaying bag, then Gaon smiling down at her. She chose: lunging not for the bag, but his leg. Yanking his belt free, she dragged down his pants. His cock sprang out. No hesitation—she engulfed it, cheeks hollowing with sloppy, fervent sucking.
Gaon stroked her head. "Easy now."