Chapter 1: Betrayal’s Aftermath

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this. Illina – The Black Vault

I would kill that bastard.

Sir Bryce Cartith would die screaming on my blade. His pain would echo throughout the ages. It would resound through the Astral Realm. Every God would hear his agony. It would shake the foundation of the universe and let Dauthaz, God of Death, know to collect his sorry, miserable soul for an eternity of torment in the next life.

Sir Bryce Cartith killed my Barg.

My lover. My partner in crime.

I could still see that moment Barg threw himself before Bryce’s blade. Barg had died in my stead, protecting me like he swore to my mother. His body lay in the Cernere’s Black Vault amid all the countless treasures. I had no interest in any of them.

The countless wealth of the Goddess of Crime mattered not a queef to me. I wanted Sir Bryce to pay. How could he take my sweet Barg from me? We were supposed to have fun for centuries. Traveling the world. Pulling off heists. Plundering the most guarded vaults and strongrooms. Tricking those with what we wanted into giving it to us.

I screamed out in the dark room not just because of the deep wound in my side that leaked my blood onto the floor. The pain beating to the rhythm of my heart drowned out the agony coursing through my nervous system.

I was dying, too, but I had hope. Salvation. Stefan Halian.

The mage’s hand fumbled as he pulled out the vial of pussy juices from within his robe. He popped the cork, pain flitting across his face. He had a deep wound himself in his side. Blood spilled out of him. Sir Bryce had tried to murder him. Would have if I hadn’t thrown a knife that struck the knight’s wrist and turning an immediately fatal wound into one that would take time to kill Stefan.

Stefan quaffed the pussy juices. He would need it to power his magic. He could control the five elements, or so I understood. I was no mage. I didn’t practice magic. He dropped the vial, pain crossing his face. He clutched at his belly. Sweat coated his pale features. He had Secaran blood. Brown hair, a matching goatee around his lips twisting in pain. His eyes were a vivid green that gleamed in the ball of magical light he’d conjured. It floated by him, its rays gleaming off the inert golem to our right.

“Gods damn,” panted Stefan.

He was holding up remarkably well for a human. I was a clockwork. A race constructed by the God Krab and given life by the seed of the God of Lust. Stronger than a human. Able to withstand more damage and still function. A blending of the mechanical and the flesh. Stefan, though, was a demigod. His father was Pater himself.

The Father of All.

He stared at me. I trembled and then gasped as I felt the magic surging into me. My heart’s rhythm sped faster. Pain shot through my nervous system into the clicking gears of my mind. They whirred as I bucked.

“W-what?” I screamed as it hurt so much.

He said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the overload to my nervous system. My body bucked and spasmed. I thrashed on the stone floor as my side blazed. My hands balled into fists. I pounded the tiles. My feet drummed.

Agony consumed me.

Darkness. Blissful, peaceful darkness, devoured my awareness.

Sir Bryce Cartith

Pain suffused my body. Illina had put up a remarkable fight for a thief. She had plunged her dagger in a gap in my armor, burying into my side. My blood spilled out. Only the blessing of Lagu, Goddess of Law, kept me standing.

Only her vow to me to aid me in punishing lawbreakers sustained me. I needed healing.

Water soaked me. Dripped out of gaps in my armor. I fought the pain as Leywife Monica, my whore wife, straddled me. She lowered her shaved pussy, pregnant with Pater’s child, to my mouth. I needed that blessed cunt now. Her pussy juices had healing properties.

There were many advantages to having her with me. Not the least that she would aid me in killing the lawbreaker. Pater, Father of All, would pay for ruining the woman I loved. For taking my first wife’s love from me and turning her into his slut.

Deana ... My wife and I had sworn to be only for each other. In the temple to Luben, God of Love, we had vowed to never take another. While I fought the dangerous monsters that threatened Secare, she waited for me at home. I thought faithfully.

I returned to find her in the aftermath of Pater’s embrace. He had come down from the Astral Realm, seduced my wife from me, and ruined her. She protested that he was a God. The God. That it was an honor for her to be blessed by him. That I should be proud to be cuckolded and raise Pater’s bastard.

I threw her out. I tried to forget what she’d done. How she’d broken the law of our marriage. I had kept obedience to that vow. Even in the years that followed. More and more, I became obsessed with punishing the Lawbreaker. In killing Pater. I delved into the esoterics. I figured out how to kill a god.

I made a pact with Lagu. The Goddess of Law had no idea who I intended to punish. She wanted another paladin, another champion of the Law, to punish those who broke it. Once she made her vow, she kept it even knowing who I would kill. Even now, she supplied me with the power to destroy her own grandfather.

I killed my wife. I strangled her for what she’d done, but I had let her bastard live. Crimes were not passed down to children. But I wanted to kill him. And then Stefan Halian, my wife had returned to her maiden name, had re-entered my life while hunting me down. He had come to oppose me, but I convinced him our goals were the same. That the man he hunted was someone else. I waited for the moment when he would break the law so I could punish him.

In the Vault, when I executed Barg and Illina for the crimes of theft and robbery, Stefan interfered. He attacked me. Or tried to. I killed him despite Illina’s best efforts. I left three bodies behind and emerged with the Ambrosia.

Finally, I could get into the Black Spire and gain the last item I needed to kill Pater. All the pieces were in place. I just had to survive this wound.

My new loving wife’s pussy planted on my mouth. She smeared her hot cunt across my lips. She loved me in the way a silly girl fell in love with a hero. It was shallow, though she thought it deep. Her lusts, however, almost immediately turned to our party members. She ached to cheat on me, her pussy blazing with desires she could scarcely control.

“I have you, my love,” Monica moaned, rubbing her twat on my face. “Just drink. Let me heal you.”

I thrust my tongue into her pregnant pussy. Her juices soothed the pain immediately. Already, I could feel the beginning of her healing grace. Her sweet juices coated my tongue and lips. They poured into my mouth. I groaned into her snatch, savoring the taste of her.

She did taste delicious.

My tongue danced and swirled around in her. I fluttered right and left, drinking up all her cream. I reveled in using the cunt bred by my enemy to destroy him. My tongue stroked her pussy lips. I brushed her clit.

“Yes, my husband,” moaned Monica, her butt-cheeks clenching before my face. Her twin braids of dark-brown hair spilled down her pale back. She was Secaran like myself. “Drink deeply. Oh, I have you. I will heal you.”

I devoured that passion. That love. Her moans grew throatier and throatier as she climbed to her climax. She humped her pussy on my mouth, her butt-cheeks flexing and relaxing as she did it. Her restorative juices spilled down my throat.

I feasted on her with hunger, groaning with aching need. My cock swelled hard. The young thing was gorgeous. Exciting to fuck. She had given me such pleasures on this journey. I reveled in them as I devoured every drop of pussy cream from her cunt.

Her back arched. Her braids danced down her back. Her moans echoed louder through the grove by the entrance to the Black Vault. My tongue stroked through her hot flesh, gathering up more and more of her pussy cream.

“Pater’s big dick!” moaned Monica in passion. She would know just how big that cock was. He had come down from the Astral Realm and bred this pussy. “Yes, yes, my love. I’m almost there. Just a few more licks.”

I fluttered across her folds and found her clit. I sucked on her bud, my nose nuzzling into her pussy folds. She squealed in rapture. Her butt-cheeks clenched hard. Then hot pussy juices gushed out of her pregnant twat.

I gulped down the healing cream. I swallowed it all and felt the pain in my side and wrist fading. My wounds knitted. Fresh blood replaced what I’d lost. I groaned in satisfaction into her pussy. Into her wonderful cunt.

That demigod growing in her belly was the key to all of this.

She swayed on my mouth and panted. She slid off of my face and turned around. She stared down at me with her flushed, heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes, glossy with pleasure, now blossomed with concern.

“The others are truly dead?” she asked, pain in her liquid depths. All had become her lovers. Barg she craved the most for his monstrous dick, but she had slept with Illina and Stefan after she swore to be my wife. Swore vows to Lagu to be faithful.

I glanced over at the angel. Ahlona wept for her master and lover, Stefan. Her white wings wrapped about her body. Her normally bright halo, an aura of golden light about her head, had dimmed to almost nothing. Red hair fell about her pale features. Tears streamed down her eyes as she wept for him.

“They’re dead,” I said. “The traps killed them all. It was ... harrowing. I barely survived. Illina led us through, but...” I closed my eyes as if the pain of those memories were too strong for me to contain.

Monica hugged me. She pressed her face into mine. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Don’t fight the pain of their loss.”

I hugged her tight, my damaged armor creaking around us.

“She’s really dead,” Lady Alloria Valis Korvan said. She held her coveted amethyst necklace in her hand, purple gems on a platinum chain. She stared at the pool of water that covered the entrance to the Vault. “It seemed like she could get out of anything...”

“The Black Vault claimed her like her mother,” I said and groaned. Alloria was another lawbreaker. A noblewoman who used magic to enslave men with her pussy and had tried to murder us all in her quest to retrieve that necklace Illina had stolen from her.

Thanks to that enchantment, I was bound by lust to the woman. Just staring at her made my dick throb. She had the exotic coloring of a Valyan, her pale skin tinged an azure blue while her eyes were a red, a contrasting scarlet. Thick locks of black hair spilled about her face. Her curvaceous form, ripe and busty, was wrapped in a white toga in the style favored in the great Free City of Raratha to the south.

If it wasn’t for my own spell on her, I would be her slave. But my collar, a magical blessing Paladins of Lagu place on criminals, interacted with her domination spell to make us both mad with lust for each other. We had to fuck hard at least once a day. Often more.

“We have the Ambrosia,” I told Monica as she clung to me. “There is nothing more we need to do here.”

“What about Ahlona?” asked Monica, glancing at the angel lost to her grief. Tears spilled down her cheeks from her diamond eyes. She stared at the pool.

“She grieves.” I glanced at Monica. “While her and Stefan’s aide would have been useful at the Black Spire”—and Stefan’s magic would have been useful, but he had needed eliminating earlier—”my plans never relied on them. I have all I need to see the Lawbreaker punished.”

A hardness flitted across Monica’s expression, blunting her youthful features. “Good! He needs to pay for all the suffering he’s caused. For my friends he killed.” Grief flashed across her features. “For ... For...”

I caressed her cheek. “He will, my wife. He will pay.”

I had killed those friends. I had sent those goblins to butcher her temple so I could “rescue” her and earn her support for the quest to kill her God. She didn’t know any of that. I would have to pay, too, once this was over. I had broken so many laws, too. Once I killed Pater, it would be my turn to die.

Just so long as that philandering God who turned good women into sluts perished, my death would be a small thing. The Gods had to learn that they, too, were bound by the law. That they could not act with impunity.

It would soon be over.

Leywife Monica

I broke away from my husband. My joy at his survival met the grief of losing Barg, Illina, and Stefan. They had become so close to me, and not just because of the nights of pleasure I shared with them on our journey from the Ten-It forest to the shores of Lake Tur.

They were good people who deserved to have a future. Barg and Illina were so in love, partners in everything they did. They had a playfulness, a banter that had grown from years of sharing dangers and taking risks together. They had a language that only they understood. And Stefan just wanted to avenge his dead mother and protect his father. He was the half-brother to my baby.

I cupped my stomach. I wasn’t showing yet, but I would be soon.

I moved to Ahlona. I fell to my knees beside the sobbing angel. I threw my arms around her neck and kissed her salty cheek. She didn’t look away from the pool of dark water. Her body shook as another keening wail burst from her lips.

“Are you going to come with us?” I whispered. “We’re leaving now.”

Ahlona gave a slow shake of her head.

I sighed. I knew that would be her answer. “I’m sorry. He was a good man.”

“Great.” Ahlona shuddered. “He unlocked my heart, Monica. I gave myself to him. I watched him grow up. From a boy into the man he is today. I saw his strength even when he doubted himself. On our quest, he found it. He had discovered his destiny. His greatness and now...”

“Now he’s locked away forever in Cernere’s Vault.” It took Illina, one of the greatest thieves alive, to break in. Not even she had survived. “I don’t know what to say, Ahlona, other than I am truly, deeply sorry for your loss.”

The angel gave an absent nod as she kept her vigil.

Would she ever leave this spot? She wasn’t human, but divine. A demigoddess in her own right. She had existed for thousands of years serving her mother, Slata. She didn’t need to eat or sleep. She could sit here until the world ended, mourning her mage. Future adventurers might encounter her here. They would tell stories of the grieving angel by the Black Pool and speculate why she was there. What vigil could she uphold?

“Monica,” Bryce said, his voice soft.

I glanced at him. He stood tall again, his armor stained with blood and battered, but strong. Resolute. He was prepared to take this fight to the Lawbreaker. To punish the terrible bastard who slaughtered my future husband, his loving wives, and the rest of the priests and their wives at the temple.

My husband would see that the bastard who was the cause of all our suffering pay for his terrible deeds. I went to Bryce and took his arm. I gave the angel one last look and then walked down the trail. Alloria took Bryce’s other arm, the noblewoman subdued.

Did she grieve for Illina? The pair hated each other. Illina constantly mocked and belittled Alloria, flaunting the stolen necklace that the noblewoman craved so much.

We moved through the forest that surrounded the grove. It swallowed up any sight of Ahlona and her grieving vigil. Then we were out on the gravel beach. The longboat from the Mermaid’s Tickler awaited us. The four sailors who rowed it out from the ship waited with it. They had the deep azure skin of Valyans who worked outdoors. They rose to greet Alloria.

She had dominated them with her pussy, enchanted them to be her boy toys.

“Lady Alloria,” one said. He had a mustache waxed to points and a big grin. “You’ve returned.”

“Lady Alloria!” the other two breathed, staring at her with worshipful awe. It was ... a little disturbing what she did to them.

“My boys,” she cooed and broke away from them like nothing had happened. She slipped her necklace into her pocket and darted to the leader. “My big Verix. Look at you.” She kissed him on the mouth.

I glanced at my husband. He showed no emotion. Alloria was free to have sex with whom she wanted. Even I was now. He had relaxed his devotion to Luben’s version of marriage. Most did not swear to their marital vows to the God of Love since many did not see the problem with taking extra lovers. So long as they didn’t let love flourish, what was the harm in enjoying others? Lubenites, like Bryce, swore to only to enjoy their spouse. Two opposites united as one. He had that marriage with his first wife murdered by the Lawbreaker.

But Alloria changed things. When he bound her with the collar and her pussy tried to enslave him, the lust it created drove them to each other. It relaxed his worldview. I could have my fun. I wouldn’t indulge much. Maybe not ever. I felt this gouge in me. This deep wound losing Barg, Illina, and Stefan had left in my heart.

I felt raw as I watched Alloria happily kiss the other three sailors like nothing bad had happened. After kissing her, the sailors eyed Bryce. Something passed between the men. Slight nods of heads, an understanding unspoken that explained why fewer people were leaving. Somber looks and heavy sighs.

Then I sat on the bench as we were rowed back to the Mermaid’s Tickler, a medium-sized merchant ship that could sail up rivers to reach Lake Tur but also manage coastal water of the Nimborgoth and the Misria Channel. We’d be crossing that Strait to reach our destination, I realized. The Black Spire lay out in the islands east of Secare. The lands claimed by the Kingdom of Althos and the Tribes of Ilt. Wildlands plagued by monsters and warlocks.

The dangers were nowhere near over yet.

We reached the boat. A robe netting had been thrown over the side for us to climb up on. It was more difficult than it looked, the boat and the netting shifting in different ways that had my stomach heaving to and fro. Sailors at the top helped and pulled me over the railing and onto the deck.

“My thanks,” I told a one-eyed sailor with a patch. Scars jutted out from both sides.

“The pleasures all mine, Leywife Monica,” he said, bowing. Then he turned. “Lady Alloria!” He grabbed her and helped the busty woman over. “A pleasure to see you.”

“I bet it is, Kalith,” she said in a throaty purr before giving him a kiss. She was a lot more affectionate with the men than I thought she’d be.

I knew she preferred women, a devotee to Saphique, Goddess of Women and Lesbians. Now, though, she reveled in the masculine attention of the sailors, giving them all kisses and giggling as they groped tits or ass. Something had changed in her.

“Captain,” she cooed and threw her arms around the shipmaster, a tall man with a shaved head and a deep azure hue to his skin. He possessed a body covered in muscles but wasn’t stout. Their tongues danced together as Bryce clambered up and over in his armor.

“Alloria,” Bryce said, “we sail for the Dead Island. Dire Bay.”

A chill went up through the sailors at that pronouncement. I shivered myself. We were heading to the most dangerous lands in the world. A land haunted by death and where the three Norns, the demigoddesses who controlled the fates of mortals, lived. It was the goal of the Lawbreaker. He had to reach it by the end of summer when, according to Bryce, the tower doors would open.

We would make it with some time to spare. That was good. The Lawbreaker had to perish. We lost so many good people to stop him. The pain in my heart swelled as the sailors muttered around me. They made warding gestures and spat over the side.

“Vedr give us calm seas,” one sailor muttered, praying to Vedr, Goddess of Weather.

She was a tempestuous Goddess, married to Throwia, Goddess of Suffering. Sometimes, the Weather Goddess was influenced by her cruel wife and unleashed devastating storms that caused harm. Other times, she could be gentle and give calms and fair winds.

“You heard Bryce,” Alloria said. “I know my boys are the best sailors in the world. They can manage this, can’t they?” She looked around, her hands on her hips. “Look at you all. Just such strong and dauntless men. And the Mermaid’s Tickler’s the best ship around.”

“That’s right,” Captain Artix said. “Corix, let’s get underway.”

“Aye, cap’n,” the first mate said. He was a brawny man with the tattoo of the silhouette of a naked woman on his blue back. “You ‘eard the Lady Alloria. We’re sailin’ to perilous seas because we’re the best damn sailors that every sucked at Vedr’s clit!”

A cheer went up through the crew. Men who were once terrified of the prospect of sailing to the Dead Island and Dire Bay now leaped to the rigging. The longboat was drawn up and secured. I pressed against the railing, trying to stay out of their way as the sails were unfurled to catch the wind blowing across Lake Tur. It was a large lake in southwestern Valya.

The ship turned to the west and soon we were leaving behind the small island in the center of the lake and sailing for the Equath River. We would travel down it and out to Misria Channel. Then we’d cross the Strait and sail around Althis Isle to reach it.

I climbed up onto the stern deck to stare at the island holding the Black Vault, watching it grow smaller and smaller. It dwindled to a speck on the horizon, and then it vanished from my sight altogether. Tears beaded at the corners of my eyes.

My shoulders shook for Barg and Stefan and Illina. They were all so full of life, and it was taken away from them just like that. Why did existence have to be so capricious? So fraught and perilous. Why couldn’t there only be happy times?