The Hero's Seed is Precious
“What the hell are you staring at?”
Kamara had noticed Barkan's leering gaze just as much as I had. He hurriedly bowed his head at her irritated tone, but I couldn't shake off a lingering unease. His behavior was so far out of character from the Barkan I remembered that it was throwing me off, and in my position—needing to meet Lilite as soon as possible—any more disruptions were the last thing I wanted.
“Anyway, we'll guide you tomorrow. Rest well in our village tonight.”
Barkan, glancing warily at Kamara, spoke to me in a grandfatherly tone. Soon, tribesmen entered his tent, and at his command, they began leading Kamara and me to our lodgings. The tribe used portable tents made of thin cloth as homes, and ours were no different. The only difference was that, as guests of the tribe, they'd used clean fabric.
“Rest here.”
“Huh? Where'd my companions go?”
The savage guiding me flinched at my question and looked up.
“Are you two... together like that?”
I narrowed my eyes at the tribesman's question. Kamara and I weren't exactly in that kind of relationship, but something about it felt off. Still, there was no real reason to worry about her, and I was curious to see how Barkan would play this, so I decided to play dumb and let it slide.
“Nah, forget it. She'll rest wherever.”
“Yes, sir. We've prepared the finest lodging. Enjoy your time inside.”
The guide bowed at my response. His tone was a bit weird, but I nodded and stepped into the tent.
As expected.
Sure enough. I clenched my jaw at the sight of the woman sitting on the simple bed inside. A thin cloth veiled her lower face, but her sun-kissed, bronzed skin—glossy from years under the desert sun—and her firm, curvaceous figure made it clear she was a beauty. True to desert tribe fashion, her outfit left most of her body exposed except for the essentials, the sheer fabric translucent enough to offer my eyes a delightful view.
“...What the hell is this?”
I kept my composure outwardly, eyes darting busily as I asked her calmly. A hero has to maintain some dignity—you can't just drop trou the second you find a girl in your tent. Besides, if my guess was right, she wasn't just any tribeswoman.
“It's an honor to serve you, Hero.”
The woman on the bed bowed her head toward me. Her voice and gestures had a languid allure that sent blood rushing straight to my groin.
“I didn't ask for anything like this.”
“No need to feel burdened. It's simply our way of repaying the hero who mediated peace between us and the demon army.”
She said that, and I just stared at her. Her deep, pitch-black eyes— like the night sky captured in twin pools—pierced right through me. The thin cloth draped precariously over her straight nose fluttered teasingly with every word.
“Mediation, huh? Fine, whatever. But I'd like to see your face while we talk.”
I told her that, meeting those unreadable eyes. With delicate motions, as if removing a garment, she lifted the veil from her face.
As expected.
A straight nose and plump red lips came into view. Exotic features, but no one on the continent could deny her beauty.
Dwarves excepted, of course.
I gave a wry smile as her long, desert-tribe lashes fluttered. It reminded me how, in my first life, this stunning woman had tried everything to kill me.
Barasia.
She was Barkan's sister, the fierce woman who led the savages after his death. With Barkan slain by my hand and their leader gone, the tribe naturally got absorbed into the Empire. But their wild nature made them a headache even there, so the Empire needed someone to rein them in.
That's where Barasia came in. She quickly learned imperial etiquette and culture, worming her way into the court. Her value to the emperor and crown prince skyrocketed as the only one who could control the savages, and she poured all that power into one goal: killing me.
She hounded me relentlessly.
It made sense—she saw me as the killer of her brother. But from my perspective, constantly dealing with her headaches, it felt unfair. Yeah, I killed Barkan, but they—the crown prince and emperor who used her—gave the order.
“...Don't you like what you see?”
Lost in thought, I heard Barasia speak up. She sounded composed, but a flicker of anger showed in her eyes.
I smirked at her wounded-pride expression.
“As if. Seems more like you don't like me.”
“...A misunderstanding.”
A beat of hesitation in her voice, and my cock twitched. I could easily guess why she'd come to my tent. All that talk of repayment for mediation was bullshit. The desert tribe, who claimed dragon descent, obsessed over strong bloodlines. To them, a hero's seed was precious.
In my past life, Barkan tried pairing me with his sister, but obsessed with slaying the Demon King, I refused and eventually took his head. So what Barasia really wanted wasn't me—it was my cum. Her reaction made me doubt even that, though.
Figures. A powerhouse like her wouldn't settle for just popping out strong kids.
Hidden in her brother's shadow or not, Barasia was no slouch. She knew her own smarts, and she probably resented being relegated to mere broodmare duty.
“Misunderstanding? Then suck it and prove it.”
I pulled out my already throbbing cock and said that. Her brows furrowed at the insult. She'd come here with some plan, but clearly hadn't expected this treatment.
But seeing her glare at me with cold, pride-wounded eyes? It sent a thrill through me. Even if I'd started it, turning the tables on the woman who'd tormented me for so long felt damn good.
“If that's what you want... gladly.”
Barasia's voice was sharp as she approached slowly. Her desert garb swayed with each step, and I watched eagerly.
Without hesitation, she knelt before me and began stroking my cock with soft hands. It jerked at her touch; she glanced at it impassively and parted her lips.
Her plush lips met the tip, her tongue teasing my slit. One hand cupped my balls as her tongue skillfully heated me up.
Not bad...
I looked down, savoring the illicit pleasure. She was sucking me off like it was a chore, but her technique was top-notch.
“Ngh!”
Her full lips glided over my glans, then engulfed my shaft. She pressed her lips tight around it, her tongue tickling the underside.
I grabbed her head with both hands in the surge of pleasure, but she swatted them away like she hated the intrusion.
It pissed me off for a second, but she kept sucking, so I swallowed my anger and let it go.