The Festival Revival Movement — The Village Chief's Promise
"I've finished the translation!"
Good news reached me just as I was losing myself in a lonely round of masturbation, most of our commissions having been shut down.
"Really, Camille? That's amazing! I knew you could do it!"
"Ehehe~ It was written in such an ancient script, and a lot of the characters were pretty hard to make out, so I did hit a few snags. But all that studying to become a useful pussy for men really paid off."
Camille held out the book she'd personally translated and compiled as she explained.
"Just like we thought at first, this book is about Walpurgis Night — the ritual of the ancient Shaimin religion."
"So the religion was called Shaimin. Yujin himself didn't even seem to know that."
"It can't be helped. Religious tradition has an unbelievably tenacious vitality, but at the same time, it's incredibly easy to twist and distort. ...Anyway, Walpurgis Night is, in a manner of speaking, a ritual of mental communion."
Mental communion. It was, in essence, the extreme cultivation of a communal consciousness — a slightly watered-down version of those hive-mind aliens that show up in movies and dramas every now and then.
"By performing this ritual, the participants become one. Loyalty to the community and obedience to its rules grow stronger, and in exchange, the self fades a little. More precisely, their personalities stay the same, but an absolute law — devote yourself to the community's rules — crushes the individual ego beneath it."
"I see. So it's like the Zerg?"
"The Zerg? Which god is that?"
"Never mind. Pass."
Camille tilted her head at my nonsense, then promptly launched back into her explanation.
"Anyway, the connection of minds is completed through the connection of bodies. Mass orgies and endlessly repeated, filthy sex are the core of Walpurgis Night. A woman's body exists as the medium and the tool for this ritual — that was the central doctrine of Shaimin."
"With a doctrine like that, the proper ideology of male supremacy could naturally take root."
"Exactly. And the more they performed the ritual, the more solid and unshakable that existing male-supremacist ideology became."
Since those roots couldn't simply be pulled out, the Light Church had achieved its goal by erasing the Shaimin Church's very humanity through extreme violence.
"So if we can revive this ritual, we can make the proper ideology take root in the village again?"
"In theory, yes. ...But do you really think it'll be that easy? Even if outsiders like us insist that a forgotten ancient ritual needs to be restored, they obviously won't just accept it. By this common-sense-altered world's standards, this would even be classified as heresy."
Camille hung her head, slipping back into that passive attitude of hers. But I already had a plan.
"Don't worry, Camille. They were the ones who started with distortion tactics, right? Then we just distort right back. We tweak the meaning of this ritual a little and spread it through the village. It was always a precious village ceremony, but the tradition was interrupted for a while. We've excavated it and decided to recreate it — that's the story."
"Easy to say, but how do we actually do that?"
"Obviously we can't do it on our own. But that's fine. When something's beyond your own power, you borrow someone else's without a shred of shame. That's the nature of female slaves, isn't it?"
Naturally, the words of guild outsiders might not carry much persuasive weight. But if it came from the villagers themselves — especially from people who held real authority — that would be a different story entirely, wouldn't it?
"Welcome. So you must be the guild's female slaves that Miss Lazia mentioned. Welcome to my home."
"Thank you so much for the warm welcome, Village Chief. Being received so kindly makes me glad we reached out."
"Not at all. If Miss Lazia asks, of course I'd do at least this much. We owe your guild a tremendous debt. I only ask that you look upon any discourtesy with a somewhat generous eye."
The Village Chief said this while patting the thigh of the young woman clinging tightly to him, devouring his cock.
"This fucking daughter of mine is throwing a fit because she just had to suck Daddy's cock today. She's the spitting image of her whore of a mother — her eyes roll back the second a dick is involved. She can barely hold it in around the other villagers, but the moment she hears it's guests from the guild, she pulls this shit. As a father, I'm ashamed."
"Aaaahn♥ Yesterday Daddy was too busy eating out Mommy's cunt and neglected mine♥ My pussy's already itching so bad I could die, and what if those unfamiliar bitches steal Daddy's cock? I can't stand that♥ They're whores from the guild anyway, right? So this shouldn't matter at all, should it?"
The Village Chief's daughter glanced back at us, then glared with eyes blazing with naked hostility.
It was a bolt from the blue as far as we were concerned, but we understood the desire to monopolize a cock one hundred percent, so we kept our mouths shut. Besides, we didn't even need to step in.
"You fucking bitch!"
The Village Chief was already taking it upon himself to educate his insolent daughter.
He yanked the anal beads out of his daughter's asshole in one brutal pull.
"Gwoooooooooh!!!???!!"
Ripped free by sheer force, the beads left her anus a wrecked mess. The girl threw her head back with a pig-like howl. Naturally the Village Chief didn't stop there — he swung the beads without a shred of mercy, branding red welts across her body.
"This fucking cunt getting cocky! Of course my dignity comes before the feelings of a pussy-slut like you! Can't tell heaven from earth, just like your mother, you brain-dead bitch!"
"Kiiiiiieeh!! I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I was wrong! I was wrong so please don't be maaad♥"
"Don't get full of yourself just because I go a little easy on you for being my daughter, you fucking bitch. Burn this into your skull — you girls are nothing but onaholes I raise. Understand?!"
"I-I'm sorry! I'll just shut my mouth and squeeze my pussy! Please! I'm sorry, Papaah♥"
Only after thrashing his daughter several more times did the Village Chief finally settle down and apologize to us.
"I'm sorry about that. I've shown you a rather unsightly scene."
"Not at all. Every father raising a worthless cunt has to walk that path. If anything, that dignified display of fatherhood almost made me envious."
"I was thinking I wished I'd been disciplined under a father like this myself."
The Village Chief scratched his head with an embarrassed laugh at Camille's and my praise.
Even through that brutal discipline, the fact that he still hadn't pulled his cock out of his daughter's cunt made it abundantly clear that, however his actions looked, he truly loved his little girl. If he'd genuinely not given a damn about her, he would have tossed her aside and used my pussy or Camille's instead.
Well, to be honest, that was exactly what we'd been hoping for.
"Ahem! Well, she may not look it, but this girl isn't a completely hopeless pussy. I've been edging her, so she's like this right now, but ordinarily she's an obedient, good little cunt-slut. Just yesterday she was bickering with her mother over who got to service my cock."
"What a truly wonderful family."
"Yes, indeed. Quite wonderful. And it's all thanks to the guild. The guild and Miss Lazia taught our household the proper way. In the old days, this girl and my wife both treated me — a man — like a complete joke. But now they know their place."
The Village Chief hung his head gloomily.
"And yet I was pushed aside by Priestess Veronica and could do nothing but stand by and watch the guild boycott. A thoroughly shameful affair."
"That couldn't be helped. It wasn't just the priestess — the village women joined in too, didn't they? Even a Village Chief would have limited influence in that situation."
"What kind of excuse is that? But if there's anything I can do to help now, I'll gladly take part. And not merely to repay our debt to the guild — making this village more proper is a Village Chief's natural duty."
A man with a truly admirable sense of responsibility. In this world, every last man was a good person, and yet there were so many fucking bitches who couldn't fulfill a pussy's duties. A world this lopsided — how were the men here supposed to catch a break? It was pitiful.
"I've heard your resolve loud and clear, Village Chief. And I have a request for a man like you."
"What is it?"
At my glance, Camille immediately pulled the book from her bag and handed it to the Village Chief.
"What's this?"
"It's a record of this village's ancient festival that we excavated."
"An ancient festival? One that I don't know about?"
As the village's chief, he apparently couldn't believe there was a local tradition he didn't know. His eyes went wide as he asked again.
"Yes. For various reasons it had been buried, and we unearthed it. We sincerely hope you'll recreate this festival in the village under your leadership."
The Village Chief flipped through the book, then tilted his head.
"Hmm... how should I put this? It seems rather ordinary? It looks like a common festival you'd find in any town. Is this really it?"
Of course it would look that way. We'd stripped out the core elements that constituted the festival. Those, we would supply ourselves.
"Yes, that's right. You only need to trust us. Would that be all right?"
"...If that's all it takes, then by all means. Truth be told, the atmosphere in the village has gotten a bit gloomy. There are conflicts that don't show on the surface, too. If we frame this as a way to resolve that, even Priestess Veronica will have a hard time finding fault with it."
"...Thank you! We're truly in your debt!"
"Don't mention it. I'm the one receiving so much help. I sincerely hope that what you two are doing succeeds, and that a proper culture can take root in our village as well."