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Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic, Violence

For a list of all The Rogue’s Harem, other World of Erasthay stories, maps, and glossaryclick here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 37.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Aingeal

“Cernere’s black fingers!” I hissed. “Master mage! We’re in trouble!”

Zanyia sprang past me. Her jump carried her over the Paragon and the Monster, her tail swishing behind her. She threw a look over her shoulder at me, her eyes twitching, an excited glint in her cat-slitted eyes.

“Deal with him!” she hissed. “I got the soldiers!”

I summoned abjuration spirits. The blue balls of ethereal energy, the tangible forces of creation, surged around me. They danced around me before diving for the feet of Sven and my wives trapped by the hill’s soil. Wreathed in the purple energy, the manifestation of my will, the abjuration spirits slammed into the ground, disrupting the earth magic.

Sven burst free as Prince Meinard and the Paragon closed the distance. Blurring like shadows, my husband didn’t so much as charge down the hill at Meinard but flowed. Umbral vapor poured off of Sven. He roared, a sound of pure hatred distilled into a physical rage. Light exploded from Ealaín as she rushed at the Paragon. Water and flames swept from Greta and Nathalie.

The wave crashed into the Paragon. The hulking, mismatch monstrosity battered through it with no effort. The muscles of her thick, corded limbs flexed as she kept barreling up the hill, her strange, misshapen face twisted with a clash of emotions, forming a riotous, brutal expression of pure drive, her hands forming massive fists. Prince Meinard ducked beneath the wave, scuttling on his belly like a four-legged centipede, his limbs looking oddly jointed.

He rose upright in time to meet Sven’s attack.

At the base of the hill, Greta’s wave swept into the soldiers on their horses. Some were thrown down, their horses screaming and kicking. Others gripped the reins. The water flowed around the mage, channeled by the force of his magic.

I focused on him, gathering my spirits, my wings fluttering. Did I have the strength to battle a master mage?

I pointed my finger and fired a beam of evocation spirits at him.

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Ealaín

A beam of purple energy lanced over the air as I closed in on the Paragon. Water dripped from the patchwork thing. She was hideous. The Biomancer had formed this thing from a dozen different humanoid creatures. I could see human, dwarf, orc, elf, goblin, ogre, halfling, and more in her features. She had breasts and a cock bouncing before her. A nauseating writhe rippled through my stomach.

Vebrin had fashioned her by despoiling a dozen different works of art, living creatures all, and stitching them together. It horrified me. It was like he’d taken a dozen priceless statues carved with exquisite care, hacked them to pieces, then stuck them together and declared that he had created something better. That he’d distilled the very essence of art.

A paragon.

My hammer and ax blazed with light. My armor strengthened my limbs. I would slay this thing for my divine mother. This thing was an affront to all Rithi stood for. I howled as I raised my weapons, Greta charging at my side.

The Paragon grinned, the mongrel features of her face twisting as the mismatched features clashed with each other. Her pace slowed. Her muscles bulged in her arm as she flexed her fist. I reached her, swinging with my hammer, my momentum impelling force into it.

She raised her arm and took my blow. Light burst from my hammer. It surged around the Paragon, illuminating every wrinkle and crag of her features. The handle shook in my hand as she swept her arm before her, knocking back my weapon, her fist flying at my armor.

Droplets shimmered before me. A shield of water sprang up. The Paragon’s fist slammed into it. Waves rippled across the disc. It faded into mist as I swung my ax. My blow hacked through the dissipating defense. The Paragon pivoted and deflected my swing with her other forearm, sending my blow slashing into the hill.

The Paragon laughed, her fist blurring down at my head.

So fast.

Light burst from armor. A great flash of sunlight striking Paragon in the face. She cursed, flinching, her blow going wide. It missed my head by inches. A rush of air rippled over me. A nervous twinge ran through me. I felt the power of her blow.

Did I have the strength to fight her?

Greta shouted beside me, stabbing with her watery blade. I couldn’t afford doubts. I would beat her.

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Sven Falk

“Did you think turning into a monster would get your daughter wet for you instead of me?” I demanded as I thrust my shadowy rapier at the carapaces chest of Meinard.

He scuttled to my right, scurrying sideways with speed. His skin had an oily sheen about it, rippling in the sunlight. I could see his cold features in the twisted face. He had mandibles thrusting out of his mouth, his eyes almost all black. Segmented plates covered his entire body. It ripped out of his skin. Small bits of it could be seen at the joints, pale flesh clinging to his new body. He had a knot in his central chest, a round bulge dug into this thorax.

What had he done to himself?

I followed his scuttle. He dropped to all four, his mandibles clicking. My skin crawled. This thing touched my wife. He used her. He tried to make her into his whore. I pivoted as he circled me, drawing in the shadows to enhance my speed.

I stabbed.

He twisted his body out of the way. My sword buried into the ground. He swiped at me. I leaped back as the claws slashed before me. From the other side, Nathalie’s fiery sword swept down at him, the young girl’s face twisted in revulsion as she let out a loud screech.

Her crackling blade slammed into the ground, missing Prince Meinard. Grass crisped black, smoking from the heat. Her armor wavered and danced, heat bleeding off of her, spilling through the air. She felt like a walking furnace. She ripped up her sword, pivoted and—

Prince Meinard struck her in the chest. She gasped, stumbling back up the hill, her armor rattling. I growled, thrust hard at Prince Meinard’s back. He flattened his body to the ground. My blade hissed over his form.

“Do you think Ava will welcome you to her bed?” I asked. Then I snorted. “Do you even have a cock any longer?”

“I think I’ll just eat her,” Prince Meinard answered, his mandibles clacking as he rose to his feet, his limbs twisted and segmented in strange ways, fingers ending in sharp claws.

“I left her pussy full of my cum,” I said, giving him a mocking grin. “It was a lot of fun cucking you, your Highness.”

Prince Meinard let out a clicking, hissing sound. Laughter. The sound skittered through my ears, my spine shivering. It sounded like a thousand beetles scurrying through dead leaves, a hideous sound. “No, not her pussy. Her flesh. That scrumptious, warm flesh.”

My stomach tightened.

“I’ll pull apart her bit by bit, watching her sinews stretch. I’ll feast on her entrails as they spill out of her torn skin.” His mandibles quivered. A look of almost ecstatic lust rippled across his insectoid face. “My little sweetling will be so salty and rich.”

I wanted to vomit. Just picturing this thing ripping into my Ava with those mandibles, tearing into her flesh, ripping her apart punched me in the guts. My stomach acids churned and boiled. I hated this man, but now… Now he disgusted me. Made me feel dirty just standing by him.

He glanced at Nathalie. My blood chilled.

“Maybe I’ll eat her first,” he said. “She smells… succulent.”

He pivoted and lunged at her. Nathalie squeaked. She swung her sword. He battered her clumsy blow aside and seized her. I cursed and charged at his back. His mandibles spread wide as he lunged his head down for the rune-carved breastplate, heat dancing around the pair.

“Master!” Nathalie screamed.

Rage surged through me. Flashes of the monster ripping into my sweet Nathalie blazed through my mind. They galvanized my limbs. I aimed my needle-sharp blade at that things back, right for his heart. I would skewer him.

Fire exploded before me.

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Kora Falk

Fire exploded from Nathalie.

I screamed as the flames rippled over that foul insect-thing and went for my brother. Sven threw up his arms before him. Shadows rippled, an inky cloud burst before him as the tongues of fire rippled around the hill.

“Brother mine!” I gasped, my hand going to my breasts, clutching at nothing as I trembled by the altar.

Nathalie burst out of the inferno. Her blonde pigtails blazed with flames, burning behind her as she scrambled clear. The fire didn’t consume her hair, but danced on them as she whirled around to face the dying bonfire. As she did, I could see the crumpled impressions in her breastplate, the mark of the monster’s maw biting into her chest.

The insectoid thing rose out of the flames, his gray, waxy carapace absorbing the heat. He stalked out after Nathalie. She raised her blazing sword before her, a tremble racing through her body. His mandibles clicked.

I had to help them. I thrust my hand between my thighs and swiped up my pussy juices. I shuddered, my cream coating them as I opened my will to my Goddess. I called upon her power: “Rithi, bless my sexual juices and let them paint new beauty in the world.”

I had to make those solid illusions again like I did fighting the ooze. I needed it. My family needed it. Light flashed from Ealaín dueling the Paragon. Aingeal flew in the air, beams of purple energy flashing from her. And Zanyia…

Zanyia was all alone.

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Zanyia

I landed amid the soldiers recovering from the wave. Their horses sodden coats dripped. Some of the guards lay on the ground, struggling to stand in their waterlogged armor. I grinned at them as their horses whinnied in surprise at my appearance.

“Get the bitch!” snarled a man in full armor, a rich cloak of blue spilling off his shoulders.

“Bitch!” I hissed as a sword swiped at me.

I jumped with ease to my right. My tail twisted behind me, guiding me. The soldier I flew at cursed. He thrust his sword out before him, the chiseled-sharp point lancing right for my chest. I purred as the exhilaration filled my veins and twisted my body. The blade lunged past my stomach.

I punched my left fist forward. My katar took him in the throat, finding the gap between breastplate and helm. My feet twisted up before me. A heartbeat later, I crashed into his armor. I planted my feet and leaped off the dying man’s plate, the steel flexing.

I soared from him, my blade ripped free. Droplets of blood sprayed out before me, my tail swishing to provide counterbalance. My ears twitched as I landed on the back of another soldier’s mount. He cursed, twisting as I punched my right fist at his neck, katar jutting before my attack, a thick, triangular claw.

He gurgled as he died.

“I’m not a bitch!” I howled. “Do I look at all like a dog?”

The soldiers roared, scrambling to face me.

“I’m a cute, sexy kitten!” I hissed and leaped from the dying man’s mount. I would keep the soldiers distracted while Master took care of the monsters.

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Princess Ava

Kora’s fingers wiggled as she conjured an illusion. I shuddered, trying to focus. I needed to use the Altar. It begged me to sink my soul into it, but the sounds… Flames crackled, water rushed, people screamed and died. My family was in danger. I could help them. I had my proxy. I could become the feyhound and join the fight.

I stared down at the amulet. Even the hammer could be more useful in the fight. Carsina knew how to wield it. What should I do? How long would it take me to destroy the amulet? I could feel the vast machinery beneath me, the great engine which gathered and channeled all that energy. I would have to focus it on the phylactery, bring it all to bear before I could destroy it.

Could I do it fast? Would anyone I love die while I manipulated this vast machine?

“Where are you, my sweetling?” a hideous voice called, rising above the sounds of fighting. “I’m here for you. I’m so hungry for you.”

“You WON’T touch her!” bellowed my husband.

My father…

I wrenched my gaze from the altar. I shuddered, witnessing Sven thrusting his blade at Prince Meinard through the flames burning on the hills. It distorted their forms, made them look bleary, ephemeral. A fear seized my heart.

What if Sven died?

“Princess, you need to activate the altar,” Carsina said, her hand gripping the shoulder. “Focus.”

But how could I? Light flashed. Greta screamed, knocked back by a blow from the Paragon. Water sprayed around her as she crashed against the slope. My family was in danger.

I had to act.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aingeal

Magic crackled in the air. I couldn’t see the mage’s power, but I could feel it coursing through the world. He manipulated the elements—air, earth, water, fire, and life—with his will. He wasn’t like the assassin, binding the spiritual essences of the world and channeling them at me. This was something different. Something powerful. My mind focused as I hovered about the fighting. Heat rippled from below. Water splashed the bottom of my feet.

I fended off slicing blades of unseen air. They struck my shield of abjuration spirits. I whirled those around me while the evocation spirits surged down in tight beams of destruction. Powerful energy to hit him. Shields of rocks, the mighty bowels of the earth, rose to defend him. He maneuvered his horse from the chaos Zanyia crated, leaving the ground in his wake covered in broken boulders he ripped out of the ground.

He downed more energy from a vial while his magic seized water from the ground. Liquid lances shot up at me, hardening into icy death. I fluttered to the right, shaping my abjuration spirits to block them. The thin lances slipped through their protection, the death reaching up at me.

I shifted transmutation spirits into the lances penetrating my defenses. I changed the incoming spears into harmless mist that washed over my body and hugged me in a clammy cloud before it dissipated.

He grinned. This time, the lances that shot up at me were made of hardened stone, granite he ripped out of the hill. Air propelled them at blurring speed. He found a weakness in my defense and exploited it.

I shifted my spirits. I formed a layers of abjurations spirits in an eye blink. The stony spears hit them, penetrating deeper and deeper into the stacked shields until they stopped an arms reach from my body. I touched them with transmutation spirit, made them molten, and flung them at the mage.

Hissing droplets of white-hot stone rained down at him. As he sent his magic to meet the threat I fired another beam of evocation spirits at him. Death lanced down at him. My wings fluttered. The liquid stones cooled and broke apart into dust as they fell around him. My lance, however, rushed at him and—

He lifted into the air at the last moment, yanked up by ropes of air. My lance struck his horse, burned through its body. It collapsed in a twitching mound while he settled on the ground behind in a swirl of his black robes.

He faced me, eyes hard, arms folded across his chest as he summoned more elements to—

“No!” I shouted as Ava seized my soul and—

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 39.

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I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!