Mushoku Impact

After picking up their brand new wagon, Paul and company made their way out the Eastern gate of Sharia. There were more forests to the West, but that was also the location of the Wyrm's Whiskers.&nbsp;
As much as he would like to eliminate a few, if not all, the bandit camps in the region, Paul knew it would only draw unwanted attention. It would be okay if he intended to settle in the territories of the Magic Triumvirate and support one of the existing political factions, but that was pretty much the antithesis of what Paul was tiring to do at the present moment.&nbsp;
The thing about political affiliation and forming alliances was that they didn't hold up when one party was constantly traveling. Paul could act as much as he wanted in the shadows, but the moment he joined hands with any person, group, or nation, they effectively became an anchor tying him down. If his enemies wanted to get to him, all they would need to do was target the people he was obligated to protect.
Though he had spent the last seven and a half years convincing himself he needed to prioritize his life over the lives of pretty much everyone else, Paul wasn't a heartless bastard. He wasn't the type of person that would feel nothing as the people he cared about were slaughtered to get to him. Would he let them die? Probably. He didn't really have a choice. However, whoever forced him into that position would experience regret far greater than his own...
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"This is kind of boring..."
Though he had sharp senses and incredible kinetic vision, Paul wasn't a particularly skilled hunter. He could fend off multiple monsters and move at nearly a hundred meters a second over short distances, but neither of those things prepared him for chasing animals through thorny underbrush and hunting in perenially snowy forests.
Understanding he would be in the way, Paul was charged with protecting the wagon and watching over their camp alongside Xiangling and Ei while Ghislaine and Eula teamed up to hunt. The former was doing most of the actual hunting, but Eula's agility and imperviousness to cold made her an excellent support. She was also the Captain of the Knights of Favonius's Reconnaissance Company, complete with an almost superhuman sense of direction and exceptional cartography skills.
"Would you like me to entertain you? Perhaps with a bit of poetry...?"
"Mmm...maybe later...you're already doing enough as is..."
Bringing his left hand up, Paul gave Ei's thigh and knee a caress as he continued lying his head across her lap. They could be training, but the odds of drawing unwanted attention were pretty high. They were only a few kilometers outside of town, so any stray Adventurer or Hunter could track them down if Ei began releasing thunder and lightning everywhere.
"Master..."
Thinking Paul was in the mood, Ei could feel her excitement beginning to build. The first few times they shared the same bed as man and woman, she felt ashamed enough to want to die. Now, she still felt embarrassed, but the ardor and intensity of Paul's lovemaking had been carved deeply into her heart and body.&nbsp;
Interrupting Ei's train of thought, a violet purple blob with rabbit-like ears wigged its way out of her rather ample cleavage. Ei tried to catch it, but it managed to slip through her fingers like a liquid, several parts of it briefly detaching before catching up and refusing with the main body.
"Holy shitballs...!"
With Ei failing to stop it, Paul was jolted to a seated position as the purple, slime-like spirit nestled against his face. The core at the center of its body was comprised entirely of Electro Energy, so its affectionate cuddles were like snuggling up to an electric fence.
Seeing the nebulous spirit rolling around in the air, a wry smile developed across Paul's face as he recovered from his shock and said, "Well, hello to you too..."
Using Touki to cover his hands, Paul extended his hand so that the tiny spirit, better known as an Electric Seelie, could nestle in his palms. With adequate protection, touching it was like holding a glass sphere filled with plasma. The actual sensation was closer to holding a warm water balloon in the palm of his hand, but its body glowered wherever his skin met with its nebulous mass.
While rubbing his finger between the Seelie's ear-like protrusions, Paul turned to Ei and asked, "Couldn't let it go...?"
Exhaling a subdued sigh, Ei's expression became faintly but noticeably apologetic as she answered, "I had initially intended to give it to Razor or Lisa, but it completely slipped my mind. I beg Mas-"
"Relax. I wasn't criticizing you or anything. I'm just worried you're getting a little too attached. If you can't part with the first, you're going to have a lot of difficulties parting with the rest...not that I can blame you. They are pretty cute, aren't they...?"
Seemingly understanding Paul's words, the violet Seelie gave the tip of his finger a playful shock.
Shaking his hand, Paul issued a soft chuckle as he supplanted, "Cheeky, but cute..."
Returning the adorable little blob to Ei, Paul rose to his feet and said, "I'm going to head out and stretch my legs. Look after Xiangling and our stuff. And don't worry, I won't be traveling out of earshot."
Though she was tempted to insist that Paul allow her to accompany him, Ei only hesitated for a brief moment before nodding her head. She had a pretty good understanding of his character at this point, so she knew he wouldn't take any overt or unnecessary risks. At the very least, he would generally call for backup before doing something that jeopardized his life.
"Okay, then. Good luck, Master."
Raising his hand in response to Ei's words, Paul made his way out of the cave they had commandeered before giving their covered wagon a quick once over. Finding nothing amiss, both inside and underneath, he shifted his attention to the small mountain they were encamped beneath before tensing the muscles in his legs and leaping more than twenty meters in a single bound.
Though he ended up sliding for a bit due to the snow covering the side of the mountain, Paul couldn't help smiling as he looked back to see just how much distance he had covered. He still had a very long way to go to reach the pinnacle, but he already possessed a limited form of superspeed and strength. Since he had experienced what it was like to be 'normal,' being able to leap tens of meters in a single bound was enough to send shivers up his spine and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"It may be filled with rotten asshats, but I fucking love this world..."
Punctuating his words, Paul continued leaping up the roughly 40-degree slope until he reached the peak of the mountain. It didn't provide him the vantage he expected, primarily due to the fact there were trees and snow as far as the eye could see, but it was still a breathtakingly beautiful sight to behold...
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Though most people would have to pass through the Red Dragon's Upper or Lower Jaws, Gal was fairly confident he could pass through one of the narrower regions of the Red Dragon Mountains, specifically those located to the East of the Milbots Region. Before attempting the trek, however, he had a few stops to make along the way.
"So this is where that little monster grew up? It seems pretty ordinary to me..."
While it was much larger than any estate he had seen outside the Royal Capital, Gal didn't notice anything immediately notable about the Notos Estate. There was a lingering smell of fruit and wine carried by the wind, but that didn't really explain how Paul had been able to form such strong convictions at such a tender age.
"Well, whatever...let's see what the parents have to say..."
Since he had timed his arrival with Amarant's return, it wasn't long before Gal found himself standing before Paul's father. This left him feeling even more confused, as, even at a glance, he could tell Amarant was 'weak.'
"Tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of the Sword God's visit? I would assume it has something to do with my former son. However, if that's the case, I'm afraid you've wasted your time. I haven't heard so much as a pip from that boy in more than two years."
Though he couldn't discern any deceitfulness from Amarant's words, Gal also didn't sense any antagonism or resentment when he mentioned Paul. Nobles were excessively arrogant and prideful creatures who valued face above familial ties. When most Nobles talked about the exiled members of their families, there would generally be a hint of disdain or disgust in their tone. While Amarant was able to put up a steely front, Gal didn't sense so much as an iota of hatred in his tone...if anything, there was a bit of pride.
"Paul has recently become the youngest Sword Saint in history. Not just in my Sword God Style, but the Water God Style as well. My reason for being here is simple; I wished to see what kind of environment that boy grew up in to have such a fiercely determined character..."
Releasing a bit of his Touki, Gal squinted his fierce blue eyes as he stared into Amarant's leafy greens and said, "Truth be told...I expected more. As far as I can tell, this place lacks the means to rear such a prodigy. Even if you have the resources, there is nothing here that can drive such a young boy to such extremes..."
Though he could feel every muscle in his body tensing, Amarant managed a glower of his own as he said, "Sword God Gal Farion...do not mistake my courtesy as obeisance. You're out of line..."
Squinting his eyes, Gal suppressed his sudden urge to cut Amarant down as he said, "At least I know where the kid got his backbone from..." before following it up by saying, "During my brief stay in the Capital, I heard tale that your other children are nearly as talented as their monster of an older brother. I'd like to meet them, maybe give them a few tips."
Understanding that Gal was likely acting as an agent of the King, Amarant only hesitated for a brief moment before nodding his head and answering, "Very well. However, while they are both very talented, I'm afraid they are nowhere near the level of their banished brother. Their talents lay more in the magical arts than swordsmanship."
Furrowing his brows, Gal asked, "Really? Their brother managed to claw his way to the Rank of Saint without any natural talent, yet they pursued the mystical arts? Were the three of them not close...?"
Snorting through his nose, Amarant declared, "The affairs of House Notos are our own. I will allow you to meet with my sons, but they are not yours to question. Do I make myself clear?"
Inhaling a deep breath, Gal began to systematically pop the fingers of his left hand as he answered, "Yeah, I hear you. Don't worry; I'm only here to satisfy my curiosity. Once I have, I'll be on my way..."
"Hmm...very well. I'll send someone to fetch the boys. Around this time of day, they should be in the Library reading books."
Though he frowned upon hearing that Philemon and Aubert were in the Library, Gal didn't say anything. His expectations had diminished quite a bit, but he had traveled thousands of kilometers from the North to reach the Notos Estate. It would be remiss of him to leave without confirming whether or not Paul's brothers had talent. If they were anything like their older brother, it might not even matter...
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After spending ten days in the wilderness, Paul finally gave the order to return. Ghislaine and Eula had managed to hunt down a relatively rare B-Rank monster known as a Sun Bear, so he wanted to pawn off the parts to the Guild before they could spoil.
Fortunately, as the land to the East was commonly used by Adventurers, there were significantly fewer bandits and slavers. The Adventurer's Guild would deploy A or even S-Ranked Parties to annihilate groups that hunted or enslaved its members, so, unless they had a very powerful backing, the average bandit or slaver group avoided areas frequented by Adventurers.
In the end, it wasn't a group of bandits or slavers that Paul and his Party had to worry about; it was other Adventurers. Wagons weren't exactly all-terrain vehicles, so they needed to travel along established paths to avoid having their wheels or axels give out on them.&nbsp;
Under normal circumstances, a group of Adventurers wouldn't even bat an eye towards a covered wagon. They might offer their services if the wagon was traveling in the same direction as them, but, more often than not, Adventurers avoided Merchants.
The thing that made Paul and his Party an exception, excluding the fact the majority of their members were beautiful women, was that they were traveling without a horse or another means to pull their wagon. Instead, it was drawn along by none other than Paul himself, his body appearing to release steam as he pulled the overburdened wagon without a shirt on.
Seeing Paul pulling the covered wagon while Ghislaine and Eula walked alongside him, a Party of Adventurers consisting of three human males, a fully armored Dwarf, a bookish-looking girl with slightly pointed ears, and a dog-like woman from the Beast Race.
Seemingly representing the group, a relatively handsome man with red hair and matching red eyes stepped forward to ask, "Did your horse run off or something...?"
Unlike most people, who fell into the role of swordsman or Mage, the red-headed ikeman had a sizeable crossbow strapped to his lower back and a red, expensive-looking longbow. There were only five arrows in his quiver, but the runic pattern engraved into their shafts made it clear they were no ordinary arrows.
Since he had already ceased pulling the wagon once the group began their approach, Paul was able to manage a relatively casual smile as he answered, "You don't become strong by skipping out on training."
Though it probably didn't earn him any favor from the men in the group, Paul punctuated his statement by flexing his right arm and winking at the bookish-looking girl in a stereotypical Mage outfit. A lifetime of dedicated training had given him a body that appeared to be carved from marble, so he couldn't help showing it off. He was pretty proud of it.
Believing Paul had caught her staring at his chiseled abs, the relatively youthful-looking Mage pulled down the brim of her hat to cover the beet-red face. Noticing this, the black-haired youth standing next to her, a kid with messy hair, padded winter clothing, thick leather gloves, and a fang-like shortsword strapped to his lower back, furrowed his brows and asked, "How do we know you didn't rob a huntsman and steal their wagon? Only an idiot would roam around the countryside pulling a carriage."
"Timothy...!"
After barking at the black-haired youth, the red-headed archer adopted an apologetic expression as he turned back to Paul, rubbing the back of his head as he said, "Sorry about that. Though, it is pretty suspicious of you to be pulling a wagon full of furs and preserved meats this far away from the city. Your clothes don't exactly look like they belong to a group of Hunters, so I can only assume you're Adventurers...?"
Pulling out his own Guild Card, the red-headed archer revealed that he was a B-Rank Adventurer. More importantly, his card was engraved with the seal of the Adventurer's Guild itself.
"The names Rolan. I'm the Leader of the B-Rank Party known as Lion's Head. I'm also a Surveyor with the Guild, so I'd appreciate it if you could answer some of my questions."
Showing no particular concern in his expression or body language, Paul shrugged his shoulders, saying, "Ask away." before immediately turning to Eula and adding, "Mind grabbing me something to wear? Now that I'm no longer moving, my body is starting to cool down."
Nodding her head, Eula answered, "Of course." before walking around to the back of the wagon. This caused Rolan to squint his eyes, but before he could say anything or order his companions to check the wagon, Paul interrupted, stating, "You have ten questions. After that, we'll be on our way. I've read the Guild's bylaws, and your status as a Surveyor doesn't grant you the right to interrogate or search people."
Furrowing his brows, Rolan was about to ask why Paul would bother to read the Guild's bylaws when his final human companion, a bearded man with short brown air, blue eyes, and a rather fierce-looking scar running across his left cheek stated, "I'd be careful with my words if I were you. Out here in the wild, people get lost and go missing all the time. It would be a shame if that mouth of yours got you and your lasses into trouble..."
Showing no signs of being intimidated, Paul maintained a smile as he gave the roguish-looking man a once-over. He had three dagger-like swords of varying lengths strapped to his waist and an almost excessive number of pouches near his hip, lower back, and thighs.&nbsp;
"Are you a practitioner of the North God Style...?"
Resting his left hand on the pommel of his longest blade, the man asked, "And if I am...?"
Adopting a slightly more serious expression, Paul stated, "I'm only going to say this once. Everyone in my Party is at least Saint-Ranked. The next time you try to threaten or pressure us, you only have yourselves to blame for what happens next."
Not believing Paul's words for a moment, the roguish-looking man snorted through his nose while the black-haired swordsman adopted a scowl and said, "Hogwash. You're full of crap." before placing his hand on the sheath of his sword and adding, "Rolan...these people are obviously bandits...just give me the order..."
Instead of giving the order to attack, Rolan raised his hand in a stopping gesture, barking, "That's enough! Even if they were bandits, we don't just attack people! Now, let me do my job...!"
Finished with his outburst, Rolan took a deep breath to compose himself. Paul's words had reminded him of something, so, after calming down, he looked back and asked, "Are you Paul Greyrat, the Leader of the Einherjar Party?"
Confirming Rolan's suspicions, Paul nodded his head, answering, "That's me." in a matter-of-factly tone.
Resisting the urge to curse under his breath, Rolan suddenly brought his hands together, bowing as he shouted, "Please forgive my comrades for their imprudence! We did not mean to offend the apprentice of the Sword and Water Gods...!"
Surprised by Rolan's spontaneous apology, the members of Lion's Head didn't immediately process his words. When they did, the roguish-looking man became a little pale as he raised his hands away from his blades as if they had suddenly become scalding hot. Then, noticing Timothy was still ready to strike, he smacked the glowering, black-haired youth in the back of the head, shouting, "Do you have a death wish!?"
Not expecting his friend to smack him, Timothy shouted, "What the hell, Jace!? Why did you hit me...!?" while rubbing the back of his head. At the same time, the petite yet discernibly buxom Mage stepped in front of him, a nervous smile on her face as she stared at Paul and said, "Please don't be mad...Timothy has always been a little slow in the head..."
"Lei-!?"
Before Timothy could finish speaking, the brown-haired Magus, known to her friends as Leilah, smacked him over the head with her club-like staff, shouting, "That's Paul Greyrat, the person everyone was talking about a year ago! You know, the youngest Sword Saint in history...!"
Rubbing the top of his head, Timothy refuted Leilah's claim, shouting, "Are you an idiot, or just blind!? Sword Saint Paul should only be around twelve or thirteen years old! That guy is clearly in his twenties...!"
Without taking his eyes off of Paul, Rolan attempted to alleviate Timothy's confusion by stating, "It's because he gave up the latter half of his life to awaken his Touki forcibly. I can also confirm that the Sword Saint recently came to Sharia, so the odds of this being the real deal are very high..."
Though he was a little annoyed that his name and position had apparently been exposed, Paul wasn't too surprised. Most of the people living within the world of Mushoku Tensei lived extraordinarily mundane lives. Famous Adventurers, Swordsmen, and Mages were the closest things they had to idols, so it wasn't too weird that his name had started to circulate in areas with heavy traffic and diverse populations...
Accepting the fur-lined coat that Eula had brought out for him, Paul wore it but didn't bother to close it up as he asked, "So? Are we done here, or did you still have questions?"
Rubbing the back of his head, Rolan answered, "If possible, I would like to check your Guild Card. After that, my companions and I will be sure to apologize for our behavior..."
"Yeah, yeah...here..."
Pulling out his Guild Card, Paul tossed it towards Rolan with an almost bored expression on his face. He didn't enjoy killing, but he was a little disappointed that things were wrapping up without a fight. At the very least, he felt like he owed the scarred man a solid punch to the face...
Confirming Paul was who he said he was, Rolan found himself swallowing a knot in his throat as he handed back the metallic card and said, "We've inconvenienced you..."
Shrugging his shoulders, Paul accepted the card and said, "Just be careful who you insult, heckle, or harass in the future." Then, looking towards the scarred man, Jace, he added, "It would be a real shame if your words and actions came back to bite you in the ass..."
Understanding how close he had come to relinquishing his life, a nervous chuckle emanated from Jace's throat as he kept his hands raised. He was fairly confident in skills as an assassin and a scout, but he was only at the Intermediate Rank of the Sword and North God Styles. He could probably hold his own against an Advanced Rank Swordsman, but Paul was a Saint known to apprentice under two different Gods. Squaring off against him in a fair fight was practically suicide.
"Listen...I-"
Before Jace could apologize, Timothy earned aghast looks from nearly every one of his comrades as he shouted, "Sword Saint Paul Greyrat! My name is Timothy M. Britts, Advanced Rank Swordsman of the Sword God Style! I challenge you to a match...!"
Recognizing the name from the original series, Paul's expression revealed a fair amount of surprise as he asked, "How old are you...?"
Thinking Paul was looking down on him due to his age, Timothy's already serious expression became grave as he answered, "Older than you..." in a nearly growling tone.
"Right..."
Realizing he was standing in front of one of Sword God's future disciples, a boy with the potential to become a Sword Emperor, Paul became a little more serious. In the original series, Timothy had gone on to sire the next generation Sword God, Jino Britts, so it wasn't much of an exaggeration to say talent flowed through his veins.
"Very well, Timothy. I, Sword Saint Paul Greyrat, accept your challenge...!"
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"That blasted son of a whore! I'll see him, and every single one of those women reduced to slaves...!"
After recovering from the severe beating Paul had given him, the obese Merchant, better known as Dalon Eudigrass, immediately reported him to the soldiers responsible for Sharia's protection. Unfortunately, while they would intervene in ongoing disputes, they had absolutely no obligation to track down and hold people accountable for altercations that occurred in private. They may have acted if Paul and his group had trashed the store or killed a bunch of people, but they had merely beaten up Dalon and a few of his bodyguards.
Dissatisfied with the response of the town guard, Dalon reached out to his connections in the Sharian underground to obtain information on Paul and his group. He didn't know Paul's name, but there was no way the criminal underworld would ignore someone sauntering about in expensive clothing and an entourage of beautiful women following after him.
Since the town guard was unwilling to act at his behest, Dalon decided to place a hit on Paul and his entourage. However, instead of asking them to be killed, he wanted Paul's Party captured and branded as slaves. He had always hated handsome and muscular men for trying too hard, so once he got his hands on Paul, Dalon intended to have his arms and legs drawn off by horses before healing him up and forcing him to couple with a bunch of livestock to survive. All the while, he would be there with Paul's women, forcing them to serve him unless they wanted to witness their former man being butchered like a pig.
Enchanted by his own delusions, Dalon failed to notice a strange rippling spreading across the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room he was waiting in. It was the fire spontaneously going out in the hearth that brought him back to his senses, his multi-layered gaining several additional layers as he adopted an angry glower and bellowed, "What's the meaning of this!? Someone get in here and stoke the bloody hearth...!"
Pushing himself to his feet with a tremendous amount of effort, Dalon was about to depart the room when a faint but familiar thud reached his large-lobed ears. When he turned both his head and body to get a better look, he could see a large gold coin glistening within the extinguished fireplace.
"What in the blazes...?"
Walking towards the hearth, Dalon was about to grab the fire poker when several more thuds and a few metallic chimes forced his attention back to the hearth. There, he saw several additional gold coins raining down from the chimney, quickly forming a small pile just as someone knocked on the door, asking, "Master Dalon, may I enter?"
Recognizing the voice as his contact with the underground, the pupils of Dalon's beady green eyes contracted to fine points as he shouted, "Wait a moment! I'm in the middle of something...!"
Fearing that his contact might get greedy upon witnessing dozens, if not hundreds of gold coins pouring in from the chimney, Dalon removed one of his many coats to create a makeshift rucksack. Before he could locate something to extract the gold coins safely, however, another loud knock broke his concentration.
Interrupting whatever the person on the other side of the door wanted to say, Dalon bellowed, "I said give me a bloody moment, you mangey cur! If you're in that much of a hurry, then away with you...!"
Reasoning he could treat any minor burns using Healing Magic, Dalon threw caution to the wind as he began scooping out handfuls of gold coins from the hearth. They were much hotter than he anticipated, but their texture and weight within his hands brought an avaricious smile to Dalon's face as he continued to scoop up more and more gold coins...
Just as Dalon was about to remove another layer of his clothes to try and catch the gold coins pouring from the chimney, the door to his room burst open to reveal his informant and several horrified servants.&nbsp;
"Dalon!? Have you completely lost your senses, you beer-bellied fool!?"
Clutching the gold coins to his chest, Dalon screamed, "It's mine! It's all mine! Get out...!"
Ignoring Dalon's shout, one of the servants stepped forward to strike him with a Water Ball. When he did, Dalon's expression became incomparably fierce as he extended his left hand towards the group and shouted, "Let the great protection of fire be on the place thou seekest! I call forth the bold heat of a torch here and now! Fireball...!"
Stepping forward to cut the cannonball-sized sphere of flame in two, the informant from the underground shouted, "He's been bewitched! Quickly! Douse the flames and knock the bastard unconscious...!"
Countermanding the man's orders, Dalon screamed, "Kill this traitorous bastard...!" in a commanding tone. Nearly all of his servants were marked with Slave Crests, so unless they wished to suffer an excruciating amount of pain, they were compelled to obey his orders.
"You moth-"
Before the informant could curse Dalon, one of the slave-turned-servants behind him promptly smashed a vase into the back of his head. It wasn't enough to knock the man out, but it was more than enough to create a window of opportunity for the other slaves and servants to beat and kick him to death. All while their master watched on from afar, his flesh hissing and searing away as he clung to several pieces of fiery timber...
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Watching as Dalon's shop slowly burned despite the efforts of several people to extinguish it, Lynette's brilliant purple eyes, hidden behind a pure white mask, didn't so much as waver. Dalon had been on her list of potential targets for quite some time. The moment Ghislaine informed her about what had transpired earlier that day, Dalon's numbered days had been reduced to hours.
Noticing Lynette perched atop a roof, one of the soldiers assisting with the fire pointed her out, shouting, "It's the Hoodwink Killer! Don't let them get away...!"
Instead of immediately running away, Lynette performed a theater bow before squatting down and leaping impossibly high into the sky. From the perspective of others, she had taken flight, her figure ascending at a rate nearly impossible for the eye to follow. In actuality, the version of her that had rocketed into the sky was an illusion. The real Lynette was standing in the crowd of bystanders that had gathered to witness the blaze from afar, her expression and eyes as impassive as the mask her alter ego typically wore...
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Hearing the fire bells ringing in the distance, Paul's almost machine-like movements gradually slowed as he raised his body from the petite, blue-haired girl pinned beneath him. When he did, the tensions in Xiangling's body immediately relaxed, her chest heaving as she went slacker than a marionette with its strings cut.
Returning his attention to the loveable blunette, an ostensibly apologetic smile developed across Paul's face as he asked, "Was I too rough...?"
Though her amber eyes were completely unfocused, Xiangling still had enough mental clarity to shake her head and lazily drone, "No...you were great..." as her body continued to twitch against her will.
"Mmm..."
Grabbing Xiangling's knees, Paul was tempted to push them up to her shoulders and give her another good dicking but quickly decided against it. Xiangling had attained her second Constellation, but she hadn't trained that much over the past couple of years. Her strength and stamina were a lot higher than the average person's, but three to four hours of passionate fucking were pretty much her limit.
Extricating himself from the petite blunette's fiery depths, a perk of her affinity with the Pyro Element, Paul laid next to Xiangling before caressing her Pyro Conversion Seal and asking, "Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the afterglow of our lovemaking...?"
Though it was partially due to his Demon Eyes of X-Ray Vision allowing him to see a broader spectrum than ordinary people, Paul really did think Xiangling looked even more beautiful after a good dicking. Her skin would radiate a faint but noticeable red glow, and if he stared into the depths of her amber eyes, it was possible to make out tiny flakes of Pyro Elemental Energy blinking in and out of existence...
Too tired to speak, Xiangling just rolled toward Paul and nestled closer to him. She knew it wouldn't be long before their time alone came to an end, so she wanted to cherish it as much as possible.
Pulling the noticeably warmer girl into his embrace, Paul planted a kiss on Xiangling's head before combing his fingers through the longer strands of her blue hair. She kept most of her hair pretty short, but, much like Ganyu, Xiangling had a long tuft of hair that extended past the small of her back. It was what allowed her to tie up her hair into two tiny, bow-like braids, a style she persistently sported in remembrance of her mother...
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"I'm not sure how long we'll be gone, but I can't imagine it taking longer than a week."
As Paul had already explained his intentions the previous day, Amalie just nodded her head before handing him a large basket filled with bread and cheese. Esme, however, chimed, "Can Esme come with, nya? Esme wants to see outside, nya~!"
Before Amalie could shut her daughter down, Paul beat her to the punch, ruffling the excitable cat girl's hair as he stated, "You can go outside when you graduate from the Academy. Until then, be a good daughter and help your mother around the house. If she goes into labor, she only has you to rely on to send for help."
Though she was a little disappointed she couldn't go outside and play, Esme didn't try to argue with Paul. Her mother had told her multiple times to listen to everything he said, so she just nodded her head and declared, "Esme is a good daughter, nya~!"
After offering a soft chuckle, Paul retracted his hand from Esme's head and said, "Great. Then we'll be sure to bring back plenty of presents. If I find out you slacked off though...no presents for Esme."
With one of the most betrayed looks Paul had ever seen on a young girl's face, Esme startled before insisting, "Esme is a good girl, nya! Super good girl, nya!"
Chuckling a second time, Paul pulled his hand from the panicked cat girl and said, "I have no doubts. Because of that, I prepared this in advance."
Pulling out a tiny bag of hard candies, Paul passed them to wide-eyed Esme as he added, "Make sure to share them with your friends, okay? The goodest of girls would never try to keep everything for themselves."
Furrowing her brows, Esme wanted to protest because most of the other children had actively bullied her. There were a few she was friendly with, but they stopped playing with her once her daddy disappeared. However, since Paul was telling her to share, Esme decided she would at least try to be friendly with those her mother hired to help clean the bakery.
"Okay...nya..."
Feeling a little guilty after seeing Esme in such low spirits, Paul's smile became wry as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a second bag of candy, stating, "These you don't have to share..."
Regaining her usual vigor, Esme promptly snatched the second bag of candies before performing a merry jig and singing, "Nyahahaha~! Uncle Paul is the greatest, nya~!"
Though he took exception to being referred to as an uncle, Paul just offered another soft chuckle before nodding toward Amalie and saying, "Take care of yourself. And see you in a few days."
Restraining the urge to bow, Amalie returned a polite nod of her own as she said, "May the Spirit of the Beast God bless you and your companions during your hunt..."
Hearing her mother's words, Esme decided to offer some of her own, happily shouting, "Good luck, Uncle Nya~!"
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Chapter 71: MI71: Lull