A Troubled Consultation (2)
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
Inside the workshop, Grahn dragged a chair over and set it beside him, gesturing for her to sit.
“…Haa.”
“Is it that hard to say?”
“It is.”
“…Hmm. Want some tea, at least?”
“No… haa. I don’t even know how to begin….”
“Take your time. I’ll wait.”
Grahn deliberately raised his voice a little, trying to sound cheerful so Ceres wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
“Last night… I went to Dain’s room.”
“Mmm. So you two finally confirmed your feelings for each other?”
“…Yes.”
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations!”
“…But….”
Ceres drew her knees together, fidgeting.
“We kissed… and while we were both naked… he tried to… put it in….”
“Wait, wait—hold on. That kind of story?”
“…Yes.”
The face Ceres lifted toward him was flushed with embarrassment, yet her eyes burned with desperate need.
“All right. I’ll stay quiet. Go on.”
“…But right then… Dain’s thing… suddenly lost its strength….”
“Mmm.”
It was an awkward tale.
He was friends with both Ceres and Dain, but he had never expected to hear anything this intimate.
“And… I keep thinking… maybe it’s because of me. Because I slept with Zarco.”
“….”
The fake hero, Zarco.
Between the complicated mess that fake hero had caused for the kingdom and the tangled relationship between these two, what words could he possibly offer her?
Just by looking into her eyes, he understood.
She needed an answer, yet at the same time she simply wanted someone to listen.
“Have you talked to Dain about it?”
“No. I only hinted at it, and he told me he loves me.”
“Maybe it’ll get better with time?”
“If it really is because of that, I want to fix it as quickly as possible.”
“…Hmmmm.”
The blacksmith scratched at his beard.
Grahn had lived his whole life taking any woman he liked and never clinging to those who left. It was hard for him to sympathize with Dain, who refused to act on a woman as desirable as Ceres.
Is he really unable to get it up because of Zarco? Because of the shock?
The words he could offer Ceres were limited; he had never been one to overthink things. And the Saintess was clearly hoping for an immediate solution.
Even Grahn knew how absurd this was, but he cleared his throat awkwardly and whispered to her in a low voice.
“Haa… haa.”
“…Let’s stop here, Hero.”
Late at night, after an hour of practicing sword qi on the hill behind the outpost, only a faint glow like fireflies gathered along the blade—embarrassingly weak compared to the massive sword qi Zarco had unleashed.
“Are you having any physical issues?”
“Pardon?”
“The sword qi. Is it difficult to maintain in that state?”
“Ah… ah, yes.”
At Gerta’s question, the memory of last night flashed through Dain’s mind and he startled, quickly composing himself.
“Yes… it feels heavier than usual.”
“I see. Understood.”
While Gerta muttered to herself, lost in thought, Gardan forced a smile and spoke.
“Still, that’s fortunate. Since it carries even a little Authority, it should be enough to harm the demons with your sword.”
“…Haha, you think so?”
“You must be tired. Let’s call it a day.”
“…Yes.”
He returned straight to his quarters, closed the door, and exhaustion crashed over him.
It wasn’t just the stamina he had spent drawing out sword qi. The real weight came from failing to meet the expectations of both Gerta and Gardan.
Without even checking his equipment, he left it in the corner, collapsed onto the bed, and—
Knock, knock.
The sound of someone at the door was exactly the same as yesterday.
“…Ceres?”
“Mmm… mm….”
The moment Ceres pushed him down onto the bed, kissing him fiercely and deeply, the Saintess began stroking the front of Dain’s pants.
“W-wait….”
“It’s okay, Dain.”
Ceres’s whisper against his ear was already laced with heated breaths.
“Just… leave it to me.”
After only a few strokes from the Saintess’s hand, Dain’s young cock responded immediately. The instant she hurriedly pulled his pants down, it sprang up vigorously.
“Wow….”
“Ugh….”
Ceres’s eyes widened as she stared at the thing before her. Dain turned his head away in shame.
“….”
It was different from Zarco’s and Grahn’s.
Compared to the brutal cocks that had torn into her, Dain’s was smaller—gentle, almost considerate in size.
When she stroked the cute yet energetic member with her hand, Dain flinched. Ceres smiled faintly and brought it to her mouth.
“Ugh!”
It was the first time she had served someone purely out of love.
Though clumsy, she did her best, licking and sucking the adorable cock. The sensation rivaled penetration itself, making Dain’s large body twitch violently.
“Ugh, Ceres!”
Spurt—
In mere dozens of seconds, with his cock barely inside her mouth, thick, sticky fluid filled the Saintess’s mouth.
“…S-sorry….”
Dain turned his flushed face away. When their eyes met, Ceres deliberately swallowed his load with an audible gulp.
“…Mmm.”
“Ceres….”
“…Hehe.”
Seeing her smile at him despite the slight frown on her face, Dain’s arms instinctively wrapped around her.
“….”
It was his problem, yet she was working so hard to fix it. He felt endlessly grateful.
As if to prove that his lifelong “I love you” had never been a lie, he pulled her into an even deeper, stronger embrace.
“Hehet, you’re so warm.”
“Thank you, Ceres.”
They held each other for a long while before their bodies finally parted.
But what Dain did next was slightly different from what Ceres had expected.
He suddenly lifted her up, spun her around the room playfully, then threw himself onto the bed with her.
“Whoa, that’s scary!”
“Haha.”
He was laughing, but Ceres’s expression stiffened slightly. There was no trace of lustful excitement on Dain’s face.
“You’re sleeping here tonight too, right?”
“Y-yeah!”
Dain happily spread his arms and pulled the lying Ceres close.
“…Tomorrow, let’s tell everyone… that we’re in a relationship. That we’re lovers.”
“…Mmm. Let’s do that. Hehet.”
Smiling, Dain carefully kissed her forehead.
They spent the night talking about their childhood, and the expectation of something more after his release slowly faded. The Saintess’s already slightly wet mound gradually dried up.
Unlike Zarco and Grahn, who had driven her to the extremes of pleasure as if a single ejaculation meant nothing, Dain was simply… different.
When Gardan and the others learned that the Hero and the Saintess had become lovers, the news spread from the outpost all the way to the main army.
Even though Dain was busy as the Hero—monitoring the Demon King’s army and managing the outpost—the blessings and well-wishes from people during the day brought him genuine happiness.
But at night…
Though Ceres and Dain now lived together in the same room, their encounters always ended with only Dain’s release.
Even when he was fully aroused from Ceres’s caresses, the moment he tried to enter her, his erection would fade. Dain’s limited knowledge and clumsy touch only tickled her.
Ceres found his clumsy but sincere efforts both touching and adorable. Yet while Dain gradually learned her body through his hands and mouth, finding satisfaction in his own release, the Saintess’s desires only continued to pile up.
Clack.
The blacksmith set down his hammer upon seeing Ceres silently sit beside him.
“Last night too?”
“….”
The Saintess gave a quiet nod.
“Hmmmmmm.”
From what he heard, there seemed to be some slight progress, but it was far too slow.
Listening to the Saintess recount these nightly stories every single day was becoming a trial for Grahn as well.
“So… after I used my mouth… I tried to put it in right away, but again….”
By now, Ceres spoke of their nightly activities with much less shame.
Listening to her calm tone—or occasional sighs—made Grahn vividly recall the sensation of her naked body in his arms, the tight grip of the Saintess’s pussy clenching around his cock.
Dain was a precious friend. So was Ceres.
He didn’t want to see them suffer. For a blacksmith whose surging lust was becoming harder to suppress, he desperately needed another outlet that wasn’t the Saintess.
“…Are you listening, Grahn?”
“Ah, yeah. Of course I am.”
“It feels like we’re making a little progress… or maybe not. Haa.”
The Saintess sighed and placed her hand on Grahn’s thick thigh.
There was no seductive intent behind it.
It wasn’t an awkward gesture between close friends.
Grahn’s clothes were always worn from swinging his hammer all day in the forge, and it was only natural that his pants had several holes around the thigh area.
By chance, the Saintess’s fingers landed directly on one of those holes, brushing against the blacksmith’s bare skin.
The lust he had been suppressing with superhuman effort—especially for a dwarf—rushed into his groin like a raging waterfall.
A massive bulge rose obscenely against his thigh.
Both Ceres and Grahn stared at the front of his pants and fell silent.
“Ah… ugh….”
Ceres quickly turned her head, hiding her reddened face, but she couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at the thick outline.
“Ah, no. It’s just… listening to you talk kept making me imagine it….”
“…I-I see. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize… ahem.”
The situation felt strangely familiar.
After the initial panic and embarrassment came gratitude and guilt toward Grahn, who had once again endured everything for her sake without complaint.
She had only caught a glimpse of the silhouette pushing against his pants, yet the Saintess could already feel her underwear growing wet.
Ah, no. I….
It had only been a few days since she publicly declared herself Dain’s woman.
The situation with Zarco had been different. Nothing stood in their way now.
She had longed for this—being only Dain’s woman.
But cruelly, the marks already carved into her body kept making the Saintess’s breathing grow rough.
It’s just guilt toward my friend.
…As long as it doesn’t go inside….
…It’s because of me….
Once her heated mind desperately latched onto those excuses—
“…Um, Grahn.”
“Mmm?”
The words she had once said to him slipped out on their own.
“…If it’s all right with you… with my hand….”
She couldn’t tell what expression was on her own face as Grahn looked at her with wide, startled eyes.
The dwarf had endured as much as he could.
He shot to his feet, grabbed the Saintess by the wrist, and pulled her toward the storage room in the back of the workshop.
Ceres did not resist.
