This Ascent to Divinity Is Lewder Than Expected: a Futa LitRPG
Copyright© 2023 by winterwhereof
Chapter 175
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 175 - Levels, skills, and dungeons--and something new between her legs. Randomly taken from Earth by a deity of lust and given a confusingly vague quest, Zoey sets out to explore a world operating on gamelike mechanics. In the process, she finds plenty of beautiful women to stuff silly with her fourteen inch weapon.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic Lesbian Hermaphrodite Fiction Futanari GameLit High Fantasy Humor Group Sex Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Tit-Fucking
No. It wasn’t fair. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke. A feverish dream in which every complication in her life assaulted her at once.
Rosalie only knew of the Church from what Zoey and Delta had detailed to her of their foolish escapades. From what they’d said, Rosalie hadn’t been overly concerned with retaliation on their part. Especially since the three of them were—while hardly the strongest wayfarers in the city—competent mid-rankers which the Church probably couldn’t, or at least wouldn’t, muster a force to contest. Zoey and Delta had seemed to think Helena was one of their strongest members, and she was only around their own progression.
But they had tracked them down. Either they were idiotic, then, or they had something planned. Or backup of some kind. Rosalie didn’t have great hopes their actions could be ascribed purely to stupidity. Cultists were generally insane, obviously, but—especially ones who had such a large and growing presence—scheming and clever in their own right.
Lucinda being here alleviated the majority of the anxiety Rosalie felt at the development. Having a walking one-woman army between her and the enemy made most threats feel inconsequential. Nonetheless, Rosalie really, really didn’t need another complication in her life.
There were four of the masked figures outside their door. They were dressed in inconspicuous daily clothing; they probably hadn’t wanted to draw attention while sneaking into the Guild’s quarters. The man in the front wore a goat mask. The woman to his left, a dog’s, and to his right, a woman wearing the guise of some exotic bird. Finally, the last—a golem with bright white stone for skin, and donning a gorilla mask.
The threat offered by Goat-Mask, the apparent leader, hung in the air for a long second. Lucinda looked unamused. Rosalie suspected the woman was briefly considering simply breaking his legs and closing the door. But any sudden violence—on either party’s side—was interrupted by Delta peeking her head around the corner. She hadn’t even finished dressing yet; she had her breasts covered with a hand.
“Oh, shit,” she said, ears twitching. “It’s you guys, already? Uh, give us a second, we’ll be right there.”
Rosalie pinched the bridge of her nose. Delta, like usual, failed to recognize the severity of the situation. Especially considering that she had no idea they had a seventh-advancement wayfarer on standby. It should be an obvious assumption that the Church knew Zoey and Delta’s general strength, having already encountered them, and so that they had come here meant they had a plan—or sufficient firepower to threaten them. The foxgirl shouldn’t sound amused by their appearance.
Lucinda stayed in the doorway, blocking the four cultists’ path. Goat-Mask and his associates glared at her, with Goat-Mask even towering over her—he was quite tall—but Lucinda remained unperturbed.
“I think you should come in,” Rosalie told her mentor carefully. “We shouldn’t do anything rash.”
The worry in her voice was, funny enough, mostly from the possibility of Lucinda making the situation spiral even further out of control. While relieving to have her here, it was a bit like having the world’s most dangerous, and slightly unpredictable, guard dog. One that could rip up buildings by the roots. Lucinda added another layer of complexity to the encounter.
At least the request bolstered the cultists’ confidence. That was a good thing, since Rosalie wanted them to enter. She recognized an opportunity to learn more about them, and possibly the ultimate threat: the world ending, which the organization was at least tangentially founded around. Since they were in zero real danger so long as Lucinda was present, Rosalie didn’t mind inviting the invaders inside and letting them ‘intimidate’ her and her party.
Lucinda, as perceptive as any woman of her status, looked over her shoulder at Rosalie. She deciphered her intent: the silent request to let them pass. She didn’t seem pleased by the idea, but nonetheless, she turned—putting her back to them, emphasizing her extensive lack of concern—and walked through the hallway and into the room.
Zoey and Delta were just finishing throwing their clothes on, and Lucinda spared a quick scan of the two women—who blinked at her in return. Lucinda simply gestured at the doorway, indicating a sort of exasperated, ‘well, get this over with, so we can talk,’ then plopped herself onto the chair in the corner of the room and sprawled out. Taking a seat, readying herself to enjoy the show.
The cultists stalked in next. Soon enough, the room was entirely too full. Eight people in total. Presumably, all of them were wayfarers of appreciable advancement—hence why they felt confident to force this confrontation.
“Alright,” Delta said, looking at Rosalie. “Just let me do the talking.”
“Absolutely not,” Rosalie said instantly. “I will.” She faced Zoey. “Please, control her.”
“Be silent,” Goat-Mask interrupted, sounding irritated. “You four are here only to listen and obey. That is it.”
“Kinky,” Delta said, continuing to not take the situation seriously. “So, which one of you is Helena?” She peered around, studying the various animal masks as if she could decipher the answer herself. “Oh, and, how’s Jacky doing? Can you tell her we’re sorry she got dragged into this? She was nice.”
Zoey placed a hand on Delta’s shoulder. Delta looked at it, then raised an eyebrow at Zoey. Rosalie inferred the majority of their earlier rashness—their involvement with the Church—came from the foxgirl, not Zoey. Rosalie had noticed, by now, how willing she was to go along with Delta’s misadventures, despite her own better judgment.
“Let’s see what they have to say, yeah?” Zoey suggested.
Rosalie snorted. It was her conciliatory way to tell the woman to be quiet for once in her life—not willing to let her spiral this even further out of control. Delta also seemed vaguely amused, rolling her eyes. While troublesome, she did seem mostly self-aware. Blessedly, she faced forward and didn’t continue taunting the cultists.
“Helena’s membership is under review,” Goat-Mask replied with derision in his voice. “We’ve found her judgment questionable in recent weeks. But that is beside the point. We’re here to claim reparations for the grievances leveled toward our organization. The attack on our Church.”
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