Romeo and Juliet -1-
“Heehee.”
Whip! The long whip in the coachman's hand lashed out with his arm's motion, shooting fiercely into the sky before plummeting down.
Snap!!!! Snap!!! The whip struck precisely at three pairs of plump, moon-like asses. With an exquisite twist of his arm and wrist—infinitely precise—the strike hit all three asses evenly at once.
Crack!! Crack!! Red welts bloomed across the pristine flesh like artistic lines drawn on fresh canvas, perfect in position and intensity.
“Mmph♥”
“Oop!!♥”
“Wuump!!♥”
Any normal being would scream in agony from such lashes, but these undead pulling the carriage knew no pain. Instead, thrilled at the chance to serve their master, they cried out in ecstasy, pussy juices drooling freely.
Clop!! Clop!! Taking the whip cracks as their signal, the horses surged forward. The metallic hooves embedded in their hoof shoes—true pony gear—clattered like real galloping steeds. This hardcore SM pony play, with three stunning beauties harnessed to the carriage, was surreal as hell. Of course, Mari's illusion spell made it look like an ordinary middle-aged coachman and normal horses to anyone but a select few.
At first glance, the succubi-pulled carriage didn't seem that fast, but—
Shooo!
Clatter!! Clatter!! Clatter!! It outpaced regular horses by miles, rivaling modern race cars. Despite their delicate looks, these were advanced undead [Death Kaiser Horses]. No fuel needed, tireless, and among high-grade undead, their speed ranked top-tier. Truth be told, they were holding back; full throttle would've sonic-boomed the surroundings to rubble. Our journey was thus unobstructed.
“Hngh!!”
Squelch!! Squish!!
Plunge! Plunge!!
“Haaah... haaht♥”
“Master, how do my tits feel♥”
“Prince~ Let me clean you up~ Hnng slurp♥”
Naturally, inside the carriage, the hot orgy raged on. You might wonder how in such tight quarters, but the ghost carriage's racial trait handled it: the interior expanded to about five times wider than the outside. Per the game species description, this was originally for luring victims by masquerading as a normal carriage, then devouring their life force after they boarded—designed to pack in more prey. For its undead creator, it was like a mobile RV.
And bonus: the ogre used to make the ghost carriage had been near a starving ghost, inheriting [Gigantic Stomach]. The interior counted as part of that, boosting space from fivefold to sevenfold.
“Chop!! Slurp!! Gulp!!♥”
“Good.”
“Heehee, all clean now♥”
Plenty of room for the four of us to suck and fuck without issue—even a dozen people could sprawl out. But we didn't just fuck nonstop en route to our destination. Whenever my senses pinged nearby monsters, we'd stop, slaughter them, then resume. No need for sleep meant 24/7 travel, though it slowed us a bit. Still, gains weren't zero.
[Your level has increased.]
[Your level has increased.]
[Your level has increased.]
The ground monsters paled compared to the witch's tomb ones, but frontline undead legions and nonstop hunts netted three levels. Past 70, level-ups slowed dramatically.
Three levels unlocked all locked jobs. Their undead-boost passives and servant conveniences powered us up further.
'Just one more level, and I can craft supreme undead.'
Supreme undead needed at least level 71, up to 78—unless growth-enabled Living Death. Current level 71 supremes were meh anyway.
'Meaning my cuties aren't far from supreme status either.'
“Woo~”
“Weh~”
“Fwah~”
I thought, watching the three servicing me. Not right now, though. Immediate payoff: passives buffing my creations, and Death Spirit Lord's [Territory of the Death Spirit King]—subspace storage for undead. No more storage headaches.
Growing stronger mid-journey, shit hit the fan. Three days in, thanks to speed and tireless horses, we'd covered half the distance from Forest of Beginnings to Daradul Great Swamp. No villages, too fast for encounters—we blurred past anyone.
Day three morning:
“Auu!!!”
“Buhiit!?”
Boom!!
“Weh!!”
“Buhiheehee!?”
Slash!!
Another orc pack diced up mid-road. These pig-headed fatties bred via other females—like in Japanese novels. Female orcs existed, but palace records were mum.
Monsters living? Blasphemy. Time for charitable soul-liberation.
“Buhiit!!!”
“Buhit!!”
Slash
“Weh!!”
Orcs were less than ants now. No skills needed—just a casual hand-flick pulped them to mincemeat. But overkill wrecked recovery, so Dena and Kangjang killed leaving usable corpses.
“Heehee!!”
Whip!
Bang!!
“Buhit!!?!”
Slash!!
The ghost carriage coachman—ethereal but badass—whipped three orcs to bits at once. Ogre inheritance, probably.
As my Living Death and ghost carriage massacred, one orc begged:
“B-Buhit!! N-No!! P-Please, s-spare me!! Spare me!!”
Trembling, eyes wild, collapsed before me, babbling nonsense.
“What? N-No...? Spaaare me?”
The fuck? No? Spare?
“Hmm...”
Had to ponder. Such words unfit for monster scum. Concepts inapplicable to them. So this orc's meant something else. But my brain couldn't parse.
Time for the party brainiac.
“Mari!!”
Poof
“Fwah~”
Mari teleported beside me instantly. Kangjang and Dena overkilled orcs anyway; she standby-ed for emergencies.
“Analyze this pig's babble!!”
“B-Buhit!! S-Spare me!! Spare me!!”
“Fwah.....”
Mari pondered, chin-stroking. Three seconds later:
“Fwah!!”
Lightbulb face, she sidled up.
Squish
Leaning in, pressing her soft, bountiful tits against me.
Grip
I arm-hooked her, groping my dedicated wisdom sack (opposite was mana sack—swapped as needed).
Shh
Hand to mouth for whisper pose, she spoke.
“Fwah~ heehee~ ahfwah~ fwahfwah.”
“Mm!! Got it!!”
Smart Mari decoded the orc tongue perfectly.
“Piglet... commendable!!”
“B-Buhit!?”
Orc looked baffled at my praise.
“Wants to zombie ASAP, offering soul and flesh! Soul as my daily bread, body for undead duty!? What a devoted monster!!”
“N-No!! No!! Buhit!! No!!”
Desperate denial, flailing hands.
But:
“Piglet!! Strong denial means strong yes!! Such zeal!! I'll craft you into a frontline suicide-bomber undead!!”
“N-Naa!!”
Flick
Casual no-effort knuckle-rap to its head.
KABOOM!!
Shockwave vaporized its skull. Just undead material (corpse, in nerd speak) left behind.
Kieeeek!!
Semitranslucent pale soul burst out, sucked into me. Death Spirit Lord passive [Soul Harvest]: absorb souls from kills for HP/MP regen and minor buffs.
Hummm...
Battle ongoing, so stashed the commendable pig in [Corpse Repository] for later undeading.
“Auu!!”
BOOM!!
“Weh!!”
Slash!!
Nearly done. Kangjang and Dena barely tried, yet cracked earth, gouged pits, slashed deep. Pre-supreme high-grade undead were beasts.
'My Living Death growing strong—nice.'
'Time for new ones, though.'
One reason we hoofed it sans teleport: snag roadside talent.
'Yeah, strong talented beauties don't litter the path.'
Whoosh
Eyed a clear nearby stream. Cooling sight eased my woes.
'Any hot corpse drop soon?'
Unrealistic fancy as I thought it...
Thump thump
“Hm?”