Chapter 22 - Monica's Reversal
Monica's sisters stared at me in shock, not at my answer itself, but at the mere fact that I was able to respond. It was a little creepy. They seemed to think I should be wandering on the brink of death by now. Well, to be fair, I was drenched in sweat to the point where passing out wouldn't be surprising at all.
"...Tan? Are you... okay?"
Honestly, no way I was okay. My balls wouldn't stop aching—how could I be? If I had to describe the sensation right now, it was like being devoured alive by the pleasure of climax. Terrifying ecstasy, like tentacles wrapping around my brain and nerves like an octopus, squeezing and sucking me dry. The only reason I could hold onto my sanity amid these crashing waves of sensation was a single thread of memory acting as my lifeline.
A childish whim from my youth suddenly resurfaced. 'I hope the sisters' doctrine has a rule that priests can't marry.' It was the kind of rotten wish that fit the saying "yellow sprouts"—hoping for something utterly depraved. But if I didn't even wish for it in my heart, it felt like Monica would be taken by someone else. She was four years older than me; she'd grow up faster and become an adult before I knew it. The sister everyone secretly admired, laughing with another man, in another man's arms, bearing his child and living happily... I absolutely couldn't let that happen.
Now that I clearly understood it was the clumsy, foolish puppy love of boyhood, I thought: I couldn't yield this happiness to anyone else.
"I'm fine. This feels amazing right now?"
"Feels good? This act with me isn't natural. I—"
I saw my tormented reflection in the sisters' eyes. The pink glow that had seemed laced with eerie energy slowly faded. Her instincts grew hazy. And her self-loathing sharpened into focus. As if finally realizing what she'd done, she tried to push me away and pull my cock out.
"We can't buy our safety with your life, Tan. We can't satisfy my desires with your misery. This isn't—this isn't right—"
But I grabbed her waist and pulled her back down into my lap. She let out a sharp, hiccup-like gasp as she sank down, impaled deeply.
"Hic... Ta—Tan? Stop now!"
"Your mind... isn't fully back yet, is it? Telling me to stop at a time like this."
"If we keep indulging in this pleasure, I might end up killing you...!"
"So what? I'm glad. Down there, there are dozens of burly men, but you came up here and grabbed my hand out of everyone."
This wasn't mad rambling from overstimulation. Not bullshit from lust-crazed delirium. I was speaking my true heart with a clear mind. Staring straight into her eyes, hoping it reached her.
"Thank you for choosing me. I love you, Monica."
Even without moving, her body trembled more violently than before.
"So no matter what happens to me, don't blame yourself. I've already received a huge gift."
Monica's first time, that is. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she shuddered. Her walls clung desperately, as if refusing to let go, squeezing even more pitifully. Pure affection welled up, overflowing uncontrollably. Hotter than Cheseni's hot springs. Her soft insides. Our foreheads pressed together. Her gentle legs wrapped tenderly around my waist. Every inch of skin touching felt that way. And so soft. Every touchable part was plump and yielding. Grabbing her ass brought a delightful bounce and left handprints. Squeezing her breasts sank my fingers in like marshmallows. Even those teary eyes looked squishy.
"Tan."
The unbearable guilt of violating someone like family, the fear of becoming a male mantis devoured by the female—none of it outweighed this emotion. The whole world felt lewd and sweet now. The wooden floor creaking in rhythm with our movements amid our ragged breaths. The storm outside battering the walls relentlessly, as if the world had ended in a flood, leaving only us two in perfect silence. Her breaths chanting my name grew erratic. As she neared climax, head lolling back, I pulled her close. Our tongues entwined. The moment our heads—the essence of our beings—drew nearest. Not a drop leaked anymore. My vision darkened. I sensed my final kiss of this life. And it was with Monica. Lucky me.
————-
Meanwhile, what Esen experienced at the same time.
Something exploded upstairs. Esen, anxiously eyeing the ceiling, flinched at the burst of pale purple light and ducked for cover. But nothing happened. Physically, at least. With no pain, she cautiously lifted her head and saw her bewildered comrades staring at each other in confusion. If anything had changed, it was just a slight clearing of the mind.
"...Did you see that just now?"
"You too?"
"What the hell was that?"
The party members weren't the first to notice the anomaly. At the scream echoing from outside, Esen quickly peered out the window, hiding behind the wall and peeking just her eyes out, wondering if someone had lured and thrown something.
But the succubi didn't seem to have the leisure for such tricks. The demonic women, struck by something, were in a bizarre frenzy. Their pale skin quivering, wings twitching as they spun in circles. Like people who'd lost their wallets. Or a swarm of malfunctioning honeybees.
Esen panicked. "Guys? Why are they acting like that? Anyone have a clue?"
"It's because the yin energy that calls lust is gone. Not a scrap left. Must be disorienting for them—it's like water or oxygen."
"Oh, yeah... wait a sec."
Esen nodded at the gravelly voice, then whipped her head around in disbelief. Captain Tomco stood there brazenly, arms crossed, casually untying the ropes binding him. Before Esen could even ask what the hell, he jumped out the window.
"...What the—?"
The stunned Esen and Special Monster Extermination Unit members finally remembered as Tomco hit the ground.
"That pirate dude—isn't he charmed?"
"Shit, the hero's betraying us—!"
Tomco's aptitude was Hero. A renowned one from the wars, no less. And heroes, great or small in fame, were basically monsters by default. Esen grimly prepared to follow, thinking: If the captain had succumbed to irresistible temptation and turned on allies, better to behead him now. Before he used his hero-exclusive skills to slaughter his beloved comrades, or before his surviving party got branded as the "Traitor Hero's Crew."
But it was too late—the succubi swarm welcomed Tomco with applause. One immediately draped an arm over the self-proclaimed captain's shoulder, flapping his salt-worn old coat like a dick.
"Yeah. I'll take on as many of you bitches as needed."
"Clear 'em out?"
The succubus whose hair Tomco roughly grabbed smirked like she expected a wild night. Then her nose met a headbutt, teeth flying spectacularly as she crumpled.
"Like this?"
"Filthy flies with all your decorations fallen off, shoving your mouths in instinctively without even knowing you're trapped? You idiots couldn't charm a fresh-shaved pup!"
Offended, the succubi glared at the old captain and instantly revealed their true forms. No longer beautiful women. Demons like shipwrecks' ghosts bared vicious fangs and charged.
The cutlass drawn in a flash sliced the first one's shoulder. But the succubus, hard to kill with physical blows, grinned and gripped the blade, holding firm. The jammed cutlass rattled. More succubi laughed as they lunged from behind.
"He's resisting the temptation. Whatever happened—!"
Paladin Florica Baldenhart jumped down urgently. "We can't let a demon die in vain—!"
But she nearly died. Spotting the gun barrel aimed at her forehead, Florica screamed and flattened herself. The musket, drawn and fired in an instant, blew off the succubi's heads. Platinum plating gleamed elegantly on the engraved letters amid the storm: 'Countess's Handgun'.
Tsking his tongue, the captain grabbed Florica's collar and hauled her up, then grinned boyishly and bellowed ferociously.
"The captain's fighting, you fuckers! What're you waiting for—get down here!"
His shout snapped the handgun party's members to attention. Trembling with anxiety, they began slicing their binding ropes. Their skillful use of hidden sleeve daggers made the other fighters wonder why they'd submitted so easily. Maybe restraints were useless from the start.
"Betrayal... we can't let betrayal—!"
Trembling paladin Christensen swung her hammer at the pirates. But the steel head was effortlessly cleaved off. Esen pointed her metal-dust-coated claws right at Christensen's face.
"Don't do something stupid, you dumbass."
"Men...! You horny madmen gonna listen to succubi and let us die?!"
"This bitch is not just scheming dirty—she's blind too. You see that?"
Esen jerked her thumb back. The pirates, weapons drawn, were jumping out the window—not at the women, but below. Soon, weapon clashes and irritated succubi screams filled the air.
"The five slowpokes get offered to the sea goddess on the way back—!"
"Succubi... can't tempt anymore?"
Banir's lily party leader, Buerdaeng, muttered in shock. In that moment, Reni and Nenya swiftly untied Buerdaeng. The twin-like short women grabbed the rubbing leader's hands and handed her something—her treasured sword, stashed in the corner.
"H-Hey. We can't be sure we're safe from temptation yet—"
"The sailors are fine—won't the gentlemen be too?"
"Pirates fighting—Lake Goddess followers can't just sit, right?"
The familiar chill of the hilt. Buerdaeng's eyes, powerless moments ago, gleamed with fighting spirit. She untied her subordinates with the Extermination Unit fighters and shouted.
"We're going down too—!"
"Out the window, boss? What floor is this?"
"...We take the stairs—!"
Thankfully, Buerdaeng had no intent to threaten party ankles. White mages and cadets cheered as the Banir swordsmen hustled down stairs to join outside. Some fresh-faced students, barely past bloodshed, teared up in relief. As our forces grew, our roars swelled, pushing back succubi more easily. Impossible if charmed. Now, emboldened white mages blasted light outside to check demons.
"Remember class! Demons hate light!"
The desperate situation reversed dramatically. With all male fighters joined, numbers were even. We had three Hero aptitude holders now. Ignoring fuming Christensen, Esen suddenly thought of the two absent ones.
Tan. And Monica.
'Need a sacrifice?'
'If it might kill you?'
They'd whispered, worried about being overheard, but Esen heard clearly. And pretended not to. Their resolute eyes deflated her, and she couldn't pry further. They'd even begged her to block anyone from going up. But if the ritual ended now...?
"Fuck, Tan! You alive?!"
Esen bolted up to the fourth floor. No knocking or permission for the attic-like door—she headbutted it open. Then froze solid. From below, party members saw only her lower half on the stairs.
Female party members squinted. "What is it, Esen? Speak up!"
"Sis okay? The newbie?"
Clues: Esen's panic, and a faint weird sweat smell amid the rain. Hesitant women tensed; Reni and Nenya hardened their faces and headed for stairs. The elf tried pushing Esen aside resolutely.
"What the hell happened—"
"My eyes are gonna burn—!"
Elf Nenya wanted to call it beggar-level acting. She cleaned up Esen's messes, sometimes got dragged in. The party-certified "shitty kitten" who ignored words like fly shit couldn't fool seasoned Nenya with shallow lies again. But in this thundering gale, Esen's scream sounded plausible.
"The ritual—! Can't look at the ritual—! Feels like my eyeballs are melting—! Graaah—!"
Frightened Reni innocently backed off, believing it. Remaining party members wailed in fear, yelling to shut the fourth-floor door. Nenya dragged Esen's hand down, whispering disgustedly.
"Seeing you spout utter bullshit means they're at least safe, huh?"
"...Yeah. Both fine."
"I'm holding back a ton—I'll ask later. Hide it then and I'll tell Tena. For real this time."
Esen, forced into another sloppy act after the ball-chopping fakeout, sighed in relief it worked. Couldn't exactly say naked Tan collapsed with Monica, covered in fluids.
'...What the hell happened...?'