Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Visiting the Sick and Hassan's Club
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My mind went completely blank.
“That holy knight or whatever he is—you're saying he's gunning for me?”
“Yeah, the guy always picks fights with any warrior he thinks is strong. Dozens of them have died by his hand.”
“Shit... Lady Hippolyte, you know full well I'm not that strong. And you're still saying he's after me?”
“Hassan, to be frank, there are plenty of adventurers stronger than you. But there's no other Samaritan in this city as famous as you. The Good Samaritan. That's the ballad that's all the rage in the slums right now.”
A ballad was a song that told a story, the kind bards belted out for coins. But I'd never heard of one called The Good Samaritan.
“…What's that song about?”
“They say it's about how you saved that idiot bard Malco. Right when he was about to get stoned to death, you showed up and said, 'Let only the innocent cast the first stone at this man.'”
Something rang a bell, but it felt off. I'd definitely told them it was fine to throw stones at the bastard.
How the hell did it get twisted like that?
“W-Well, what can I say...”
“'Let only the innocent cast the first stone.' Wise words no one would expect from a ruthless Samaritan. No wonder it's popular with the masses.”
Damn it, Malco. I don't know where that fool's been strutting around singing, but I'll give him a good punch next time I see him.
“You look like you had no idea. What about the ballad of the witch Nemea's lion?”
“…Honestly, first I've heard of it.”
“The Dance of the Crocodiles and the Warrior?”
“Shit, what's that one...?”
“Hmph. Well, any adventurer who's even a little famous gets a bard tailing them. And the more the tales from those bards catch on with the citizens, the more it helps climb to Gold Tier.”
Gold Tier brought to mind the jangling golden necklace dangling before my eyes.
That necklace was my ticket out of this world I'd been dragged into, worth as much as getting back to my original one.
If the songs and rumors Malco was spreading helped boost my rep toward Gold Tier promotion, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing?
Hippolyte spoke up.
“Anyway, the more your fame spreads, the sooner it'll reach that annoying holy knight's ears. Especially since he's infamous for not caring if it's another Samaritan. I hear he was even exiled from his homeland because of it.”
Coming back from thoughts of Malco's songs, I recalled the savage Juno holy knight Hippolyte had mentioned.
The more famous I got, the higher the odds that brutal human hunter would target me? Shit, that was scary.
“Scared? Hassan, didn't you say you wanted to become a Gold Tier adventurer?”
“Sure.”
“Is it because of Noxdoty?”
“Yeah—huh? W-What...?”
Had I ever told Hippolyte I wanted Gold Tier for Luna's sake? No, even with my spotty memory lately, I didn't remember saying that.
Shit, how'd she know?
“Your flustered face tells me everything. Gold Tier adventurers get the right to legally marry a woman who's sworn a vow of chastity. That's what you're after, right?”
“Whoa, there's a perk like that?”
I'd never known Gold Tier came with those rights.
Gold Tiers were so rare in any city—maybe one or two at most—that I'd never even crossed paths with one.
In a world without the internet, gaps in my info weren't surprising.
Anyway, so that's why Luna and Nox had pushed me toward at least Gold Tier.
As I pieced it together, Hippolyte looked down at me and said,
“Anyone can see the feelings between you and Noxdoty aren't ordinary. So let me ask: you haven't already sinned, have you?”
“S-Sin? What kind of sin?”
“What else? The kind that's deeply lewd and profane. If you've crossed that line, I'll cut your head off myself as leader of the virgin guard.”
Shit, behead me? It sounded like a joke, but Hippolyte wasn't the joking type, from what I knew. She was rigid in every way!
To keep my head attached to my body, I racked my brain desperately.
“No way! Even if I'm an uneducated barbarian, I wouldn't go that far!”
“Easy to say with words. But your muscles don't lie.”
She swept aside the blanket covering me with her slender fingers, touching my bare abdomen. This woman had the freaky ability to detect lies from muscle twitches—a real monster.
I couldn't help but freeze in fear.
“I-It's true!”
Pouring my heart into the denial, her slender fingers pressed around my abs, sides, and chest.
“Grk!”
With muscle pain so bad I couldn't move, having her poke it hurt like hell—tears welled up.
“Eek!”
“Hmm... Your body's damaged beyond belief. Yeah, no wonder you can't move.”
Her fingers paused from prodding. Then her broad, firm palm began gently stroking my upper body's muscles.
“W-What are you doing?”
“These wrecked muscles make it hard to tell the truth. Just stay still.”
Sweep, sweeep, press.
“Uhhaa...”
With my whole body aching, her soft touch felt like melting away.
No one could know exactly how my muscles were wrecked or where to press for relief without this level of expertise.
“Uhheee...”
“Th-This position's a bit awkward.”
Sitting beside me for the massage must've been uncomfortable. She soon straddled my lower body.
Her hands reached out, focusing on my armpits and pecs.
Preeess, press.
The mix of pain, itchiness, and cool relief from the pressure scrambled my brain.
Shiver.
It felt so good, goosebumps rose all over. And the massage actually seemed to be restoring some vitality.
“It's rare to see someone this beat up. Why not hit up a healing house?”
“H-Healing houses cost a fortune, right?”
“Yeah, this'd run you a good 60 silver at least.”
Shit, 60 silver was more than I had.
“Uhhuua...”
“But, uh, can you not make those noises?”
“Uuh, it's just, it feels, so weird! I can't, help it...!”
“I-I see. I get it. I'm a priestess of Mars before I'm a warrior. Priestesses of Mars can infuse vitality through skin contact like this...”
No clue if Hippolyte was telling the truth. The sensation was too bizarre—my mind was blank.
But I couldn't lose focus.
Blood was rushing to my lower half.
Straddling my pelvis, her soft yet firm butt's warmth seeped through my pants—pure agony.
Of course, getting hard now might get me killed. What the hell do I do?
Sweep, sweeep.
“Even like this, it's still uncomfortable. No talent as a chair either, Samaritan?”
Maybe her position bothered her; she slowly twisted her waist to loosen up. Her soft crotch and butt rubbed against my lower half, and I sprang erect despite myself.
Upright.
Hippolyte stopped the massage.
Throb, throb.
Pinned under her butt, my dick strained upward like it was protesting. It looked ready to rip through my pants.
Shit.
I was totally screwed now.
After surviving the duel with Somnia, to lose my life like this? Fucked.
As my lower half hardened and heated while my mind chilled with impending death...
“…Why is it getting hard?”
Hippolyte, sitting on it, growled lowly. I couldn't meet her downward gaze.
“Wh-When a beautiful woman touches you, it... happens naturally...!”
“A-A beautiful woman!?”
She jolted, shoulders shaking like she'd heard something awful. I instantly regretted my words.
Shit!
But was there anything more embarrassing than pitching a tent in front of a woman? I was desperate for real.
A brief silence.
Hippolyte cleared her throat exaggeratedly.
“Ahem, w-well, can't be helped then. But Samaritan, this body is a warrior of Mars before a woman. Calling me a beautiful woman is a bit offensive.”
“S-Sorry...”
That ended our chat. Our already awkward rapport turned into dead silence—pure torture.
Where the hell was Luna? Hurry back. Hippolyte had a soft spot for her.
“…Samaritan, just to check, do you really think I'm a beautiful woman?”
“Y-Yes. Absolutely...!”
I answered her question with total sincerity.
Brush.
Her palm softly touched my left chest. Despite a lifetime of battle, her palm had no calluses—miraculous.
She kept it there on my left chest, silently sensing something.
“Hmph, Samaritan. No talent for lying either. You definitely need punishment. Now get up.”
“B-But I can't move...”
“Big baby for such a big guy. Put some strength into it.”
Hippolyte lifted off my crotch. Losing her weight made my body feel surprisingly light. I tensed my waist experimentally.
“Oof.”
Against expectations, my body—which hadn't budged yesterday or today—moved like a lie. Muscles still ached, joints creaked, sure.
But movable versus not? Worlds apart.
Shit, finally I could scratch my itchy back!
Scratch, scratch.
Thought I was gonna die from the itch. Ahh, Shit, so refreshing. Grateful, I told Hippolyte,
“You've got a gift for massage. Don't know how to thank you.”
“I'm immune to your silver tongue. A true warrior lets actions speak louder than words.”
Hippolyte snorted and sat beside me. She turned her back, exposing her nape and lower back.
“If you receive, you give. Massage me fairly.”
“You want me to massage you?”
“Yeah, even your lousy hands might help a little.”
She swept her bound hair forward.
Revealing her surprisingly slender neck, prominent healthy scapula, straight spine, and erect back muscles.
As I thought before, her body's proportions were model-perfect.
Thanks to Hippolyte, I could move a bit, and recalling her scolding my last massage fired me up.
Clenching my fists, I said,
“Then I'll do my humble best.”
“Wh-Wha—!?”
Hippolyte's reply cut off into a voice crack.
Because my clenched fists had slammed full-force into her Baliao points—where pelvis meets butt.
Not just pressing; I vibrated them like acupressure tools.
Bzzzzt.
Never having modern conveniences, Hippolyte must've been shocked by the vibration. And this technique was killer for those points.
Baliao—the eight points near the sacrum—great for reproductive issues and women's ailments.
Hippolyte seemed to suffer menstrual cramps, so I figured it'd hit home.
“Urk, mmph!”
But maybe too rough with fists; she twitched in pain.
With her muscle mass and sturdy frame, I went hard—misjudged the strength?
“A-Are you okay? Too much?”
“Y-Your puny fists... don't faze me...!”
Bravado or real, she declared it boldly.
So I switched: thumbs pointed, softly pressing her Shinshu points along the erector spinae.
Shinshu—kidney-adjacent spots I'd hit before. Prime massage points for women.
Pressing hard, her tensed muscles melted, posture collapsing.
“Haaah, haa...”
She flopped face-down, quivering.
“Haa... uhn...”
I marveled at the delicate, dewy sighs from her—like a morning sprout.
My lower half surged accordingly.
“Y-You okay?”
“O-Of course... Th-This is nothing... Your soft hands don't cut it...! S-Stop now...”
“Not satisfied with my hands? Then let's use a tool.”
I stood, grabbed the thick, sturdy living weapon club from the corner. Even Hippolyte would approve of this bad boy.
“Th-That...!”
For a split second, fear flashed in this fearless warrior woman's eyes.