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ultimatedaywriter · 11 months

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Barbarian Hentai Hero CH1

After hours of scrolling through AI apps for the diamond in the rough, Vincent found one covered in waifus. For once, he was sure he would get what he needed. All the other apps had ludicrous censors that ruined all the fun in the world. What would life be without fun and waifus?

The second he clicked on the app, his phone froze. He imagined the dreaded FBI warning would appear, and he would be seconds away from being swatted. But Vincent knew uncensored content was too good to be true.

“Are you tired of living in a boring world without the power to make a difference?” A message said.

This wasn’t happening; Vincent had enough problems with the IRS and their made-up bills. A swat would be the cherry on top of his shit Sunday.

“You can receive all the power you want if you earn it.”

He raced to pull the back of his phone and turn it off. When that didn’t work, he threw it against the wall. It bounced, and he saw the screen.

“Welcome to the challenge system.”

“This has to be a honey trap. You’re an FBI nark trying to get me. I won’t be easy prey for you lizard people masters.” Vincent said.

“No masters, only those who can meet challenges and those who fall short. All you need to succeed is will.”

Challenge 1 Time limit 1 hour.

Complete 100 pushups

Reward: 1 C Red Pill: Red Pills raise physical strength and blood flow. Take enough, and you’ll punch out the gods themselves.

Complete 100 Squats

Reward: 1 C Blue Pill: Blue Pills raise speed and lung capacity. Take enough, and death won’t catch you.

Complete 1 km run

Reward: 1 C Green Pill: Green Pills raise cellular regeneration and life span. Take enough, and you will walk the Earth long enough to see the sun go supernova.

…

Vincent stared at the girls on the app and back to the challenge.

“What does any of this have to do with girls?” Vincent asked.

“They were a honey trap.” The Message seemed smug. “What the app doesn’t provide power can take care of the rest.” The Message said.

“What if I don’t believe you?” Vincent asked.

“Tick-tock, your time is ticking away. Can you afford to discard this chance?” The Message said.

He threw the phone against the wall and started on the pushups. Vincent wanted to believe. That was the truth of the matter; he wanted power. No more letting life happen to him; he would be active.

Vincent felt his asthma acting up before he finished his squats. He was hauling ass, but at 30, he wasn’t in the best shape anymore. Would he make it? A spy drone could live-stream him from a window for all he knew. His heart pounded in his chest after he reached his 100th squat. He pushed his body until it was everything he could do to finish the first two. The run was the most important. He needed more life and healing.

A voice spoke from his phone. “Only winners get the girls. Can you run 1km?” He knew it was messing with him, but it was right. If Vincent wanted to stop living alone, he needed to run.

He threw himself out the door and forgot his shoes. It was raining, and flashbacks of the last time he ran barefoot on asphalt hit him, but there was no time. He jumped off his porch into the hot summer rain, ignored the sharp rocks digging into his feet, and ran. Vincent felt the heavy phone in his ball shorts swing like a pendulum while he hauled ass.

Nothing would stop him from getting power and then the waifus. He felt the wind brush by him and stopped before a truck hit him. A spasm traveled down his left arm while his heart hammered against his chest. That was too close; he was almost killed.

“Tick Tock,” the voice called, and he ran.

His side cramped almost immediately from his earlier coffee, slowing him down. Bits of rock stung his feet while the rain soaked him to the bone. Somehow his phone wasn’t bothered. Whatever app he downloaded had changed his phone.

Vincent’s home vanished behind him as he ran by empty pastures. Horses that once made the land more beautiful were gone. Symbols of his childhood were lost, and he continued to work dead-end entry jobs. He was in a position he never wanted to be in, but it felt like he was stuck and didn’t have the will to escape. Those thoughts fueled his every step, and a glimmer of hope was enough to get him out of his house and running.

It could all be a lie, but he hoped it wasn’t. Before he knew it, Vincent stopped by the new dollar general. The corpse of a deer missing its genitals gave a sick odor after the rain. Biting flies chased him as he made his way the last few yards to the store. His phone buzzed when he crossed into the store.

“Welcome to Dollar General.” An employee said with more false cheer than Vincent ever felt. “Guess I will get the wet floor sign.” The cashier muttered.

Vincent pulled out his phone, and a bombastic elf with big eyes and a round personality jumped up and down with very little fabric.

“Would you like to watch an ad and double your income?” A message read.

“Sure,” Alien pyramids filled the screen, and godlike jackals, anthropomorphic and naked, consumed humans. Bullets bounced off them in an Egyptian-themed attack on Titan raid. Treasure chests of uncommon pills filled the screen. The screen told him to send an email through the mercenary forum to open the gluttony gate.

“It is a good offer; few who reach such powerful worlds can take on their incredible challenges.” The Message said.

“Nice try. I know a honey pot when I see one.” Vincent said.

“Studies show that most humans jump at the opportunity when they see the prizes.” Vincent hit claim on his phone, and six pills appeared. He bought a Moka monster energy drink, his favorite drink, and downed the pills. “Congratulations on taking your first challenge and enjoying your rewards. Be sure to take one pill at a time with water for the best results.” The Message said.

“What happens when I take too many?” Vincent asked.

“You explode.” The Message said.

He froze, feeling his stomach gurgle. Vincent pushed against the pain in his side and hoped he wouldn’t die at a dollar general.

“How else would you like to die?”

“Watching hentai.” Vincent made his way to the bathroom. Unfortunately, he forgot his earphones, so he would have to spank his monkey in a dollar general bathroom with the hentai on loud.

…

The police were called; he didn’t die and was banned from dollar general. But, on the bright side, he didn’t explode and made it home.

“We should initiate interdimensional travel immediately. The randomized first world selected for you is called Lilium. Would you like to know more?” Message said.

He sat in his easy chair and turned on the news. The current president didn’t look the same. The man had scales that were flaking off, most of his teeth were missing, and there were blood splatters on his mouth. A reporter appeared, and she was a lizard wearing a wig. He flipped through the channels, which were mostly filled with lizard people. A view of the Senate on the news showed nothing but lizard people. It was the damnedest thing he ever saw.

“What’s going on? Why am I seeing lizard people?” Vincent said.

“Butterflies,” Message said, and he waited for any elaboration but heard none.

“What?” Vincent asked.

“Surveys show that butterflies are the most popular answer to that question. Is it unacceptable that butterflies have something to do with it? They are some of the most powerful creatures that exist by your records.” Message said.

Vincent rubbed his temples. “You’re fucking with me,” Vincent said.

He punched a hole through his drywall like a meth head. His landlord would kill him. Was he also a lizard person?

“Would you like to pick a class?” Message asked.

He was pissed and interested at the same time. Message was clearly acting dodgy or had the worst sense of humor. Maybe he should go a few rounds with his pocket pussy. That always took the edge off. He was feeling all sorts of weird after taking the pills. After a moment of contemplation, his curiosity gave in.

“What would that do?”

“Challenges would become tailored to your selected class to encourage you to mimic that class’s proclivities.”

In other words, picking warrior would reward him for acting like a meathead. On the other hand, a wizard would reward him for learning new things and discovering magic.

Vincent raised his foot and stared at the bleeding wounds from his run. They were already scabbed over and on their way to recovery.

“What are my choices?” Vincent asked.

“It's advised that you move to another world before the powers in your world find you.”

Vincent cursed; he forgot about the lizard man cabal that ruled his world. That seemed like it would be something unforgettable, but he was just seeing them with their masks off. He knew who they were already. What really surprised him was that both parties looked like lizards.

He considered booting up some Elden ring or another game to take the edge off. Vincent tapped his chair in indecision.

“How long do I have?” Vincent asked.

“I’ve received multiple reports of stolen devices in the lizards’ attempts to become dragons. Whatever that means.”

Vincent flipped to the local news and saw his trailer.

“I don’t want to leave my home.”

“Then I will be taken from you.” Message appeared as an elf girl sighing. “It was fun while it lasted.” He packed a bag with three changes of clothes, a two-liter of tap, his machete, and an ax.

Light shined in his window before bullets tore through. He ducked to the ground and hit accept to transportation to Lilium, wherever that was.

“Vincent Farms, you own illegal software. Come out with your hands up.”

“Engaging transportation.” Message said.

His trailer filled with light transporting him away from danger as the bullets fired.

He fell into a sunny green field under a blue sky filled with fluffy-looking clouds. Vincent knew he should have changed clothes after his first challenge; he had been exhausted. Instead, a musical voice caught his attention.

Vincent heard the voice and flipped onto his elbows. A pink-haired busty light skinned elf walked through the field wearing a sunhat. His brother and family were left behind under the care of lizard people. That wasn’t good.

“We can’t do anything about that now.” Message said.

His weakness had always been in preparation and relying on others. The elf turned her attention to him. Vincent raised his phone and snapped a picture. Her voice sounded like bells, and her language created an orchestra. Somehow his attention couldn’t stay on her admittedly beautiful face. Vincent’s eyes kept falling on her ample cleavage, barely restrained by her dress and wide hips.

Why was the elf maiden alone? That’s when he saw the tears in her dress. She was walking like a zombie away from brutal-looking goblins. The long-nosed bastards were wiry, moved like a single unit, and were armed with clubs.

“There is little time to choose a class and make a stand. Classes don’t make you stronger they are challenges.”

Categories

Warrior

Barbarian – Fight with ferocity and take everything from the world. Challenge the world itself.

Knight – Fight with honor and chivalry as a man with a code. The more a code is adhered to, the greater the rewards.

Fighter – Fight for the sake of earning rewards. The mercenary always gets something for their trouble.

Berserker – Fight with rage in your heart. Challenges provide reasons to bury yourself in rage.

Rouge

Archer – Take up the bow and attack from afar. Snipers are well rewarded.

Thief – Steal from the rich and the poor. The greater the challenge for the theft, the greater the reward.

Assassin – Target high-profile opponents and slay them. Kill them all.

Sniper – Take long range to the extreme. Challenges involve the longest ranges.

Mage

Elementalist – Learn to wield the elements and find challenges to help. Earth, Water, Fire, and Air

Priest – Use the power of faith to heal and seek the gods’ aid. Faith can be rewarded.

Necromancer – Challenges involve summoning and designing the dead. You will never wash away the smell.

Summoner – Challenges involve making pacts with powerful creatures from beyond the world. Our eyes are finally open.

From what he could tell, the challenges from classes could lead to the user gaining aspects of those classes. Learning how to raise the undead was the challenge for necromancy. Contacting the gods might be challenges for the priest. While there were some great classes, his attention returned to barbarian. Mage classes were interesting, but he wanted to be strong.

“Will I be able to choose other classes later?” Vincent asked.

“Once 100% of a world’s province class challenges have been completed for a season, you may choose a new class.” So it was possible but extremely difficult. There was much to consider, but he needed to save the elf.

Barbarian selected.

Challenge 2 Time Limit 10min

Complete: Drive off or annihilate Goblins.

Reward: 2 C Red Pills: Red Pills raise physical strength and blood flow. Take enough, and you’ll punch out the gods themselves.

Complete: 3 Brutal Kills

Reward: 2 C Blue Pills: Blue Pills raise speed and lung capacity. Take enough, and death won’t catch you.

Complete: Break Enemy Morale

Reward: 2 C Green Pills: Green Pills raise cellular regeneration and life span. Take enough, and you will walk the Earth long enough to see the sun go supernova.

Killing shouldn’t be natural, but defending a woman felt right. So Vincent stood to his full height, and the goblins hissed at him. Together they sang a horrible war cry.

The pills had already changed him; he could feel it. With that in mind, he felt his odds of winning were high. Vincent shot forward barefoot, kicking the lead goblin in the chest with both feet. The leader shot into the other goblins. He grabbed one of them by its long nose and pulled the bastard off its feet. One tried to swing its club, and Vincent bashed it with the goblin he held.

He felt something land on his back, and he charged into the goblins, and one slammed their club on his arm. Vincent snatched it up and crushed its head between his hands. The feeling of strength was exhilarating. Crushing the goblin’s soft skull counted as his first brutal kill. After that, he fell on the goblins punching and charging like a bull running down chipmunks.

Vincent stomped a goblin's foot when one clubbed his side before stabbing his leg with a short spear. His hand wrapped around the arm of another one, and he pulled it off its feet. He had been confident against the 4ft green monsters until Vincent started bleeding out. The barbarian wannabe sucked in a breath before punching a goblin in its big nose, snapping it like a carrot. Blood oozed down while the goblin dropped its weapons to clutch its face. He grabbed one of their clubs and beat one senseless. A spear caught him in the side, cutting a deep line against his ribs. He should have armed himself with his ax, but the pills had made him cocky.

Or maybe he wasn’t using his body right. He grabbed one and used it to block the spear of another goblin. He broke their encirclement and threw them back into the crowd. A goblin was crushed by its thrown fellow, which counted as his second brutal kill. They started looking ready to break when Vincent stood tall.

“Don’t stop now; it’s just getting fun.” He followed up with a laugh. The tallest goblin yelled something pointing at Vincent’s leg. Vincent took off his backpack keeping his eyes on the goblins, and took out his ax. The group froze at that. The barbarian wannabe charged them, limping quickly. Before the goblins could get it together, Vincent slammed his ax down like he was chopping wood. The goblin leader’s head split in two, raining blood and brains on the other goblins.

Vincent snapped a picture before posting it on morale breakers. One of the new apps on his phone. The second the post appeared, he gained 5 stylish points, a commodity Vincent needed more information on.

He turned his camera on live stream and swung his ax easier than ever before, butchering the goblins. They tried to run, but Vincent limped them down.

Once the last of the ugly green fuckers were dead, he turned to the elf.

6 pills appeared in his hand, and he immediately tossed back a red one. He felt his muscles flex, growing his potential further than before. While the hot elf continued to jabber in her musical tongue, Vincent dug a microfiber towel out of his pack and wiped his face and ax. Keeping his weapons clean was important.

Barbarian Challenges, Located in the province of March

Challenge 1

Complete: Save a woman and have sex with them

Reward: 1 C Red Pills: Red Pills raise physical strength and blood flow. Take enough, and you’ll punch out the gods themselves.

Challenge 60

Complete: Slaughter a Goblin King

Reward:

1 x UC Red Pill: Red Pills raise physical strength and blood flow. Uncommon red pills further improve the quality of the body’s muscle fibers granting greater strength for less bulk.

5 x C Red Pills

Complete 3

Free the Goblin Prisoners

Reward

1 x UC Blue Pill: Blue Pills raise speed and lung capacity. Uncommon blue pills further improve the explosive power of the body’s muscle fibers.

5 x C Blue Pills

Complete: Halt the Ritual of Dug

Reward

1 x UC Green Pill: Green Pills raise cellular regeneration and life span. Uncommon Green Pills further improve the durability of the body.

There were more challenges with varying rewards, but the one with goblins caught his eye first. It was clear there was a difference between class challenges and system challenges.

He approached the elf girl, who backed away, screaming something in her musical voice.

“Can you translate for me?” Vincent asked.

“Give me 10 of your stylish points, and I will give you the language.”

“5; it sounds like you’re trying to rip me off. I thought we were friends.” Vincent said.

“My friends know my worth, but if you need me to sweeten the deal, something is coming down the pipe to help you keep companions. So give me the 10, and I will tell you about it.” Message said.

Vincent put his ax away and sipped some water before glancing down at the bloody spear still in his leg. That had to come out, and there was no doctor to help. If it nicked an artery, he would die.

“Pop a green pill if you’re scared. Do we have a deal that girl looks terrified?”

The barbarian wannabe tossed back a green pill and sighed. His body felt a little better. “9 and the information.”

“Fine,” Message said.

Suddenly her babbling started making sense.

“Please, oh March, take me in your sacred grove and protect this pious sister of the wood. I beseech you don’t let the monster get me.” The elf said.

It was less like a flash of memory of learning the language and more like having a key for everything she said.

His bloody clothes did make him look a little dangerous. After he stripped down to his underwear, he approached the woman again. She backed away faster at that.

“No, not like this.”

“Would you rather I wore pants?” Vincent asked.

The barbarian wannabe felt like he needed to stretch his tongue before speaking in that language. His vocal cords were already feeling raw from a question.

“You speak.”

“Yes,” he needed to keep his words to the point, or his voice would break.

“I am Graceful Wind Dancer On The Waves.

“Windy,” Vincent said with a nod.

She had called herself sea breeze, but he felt that fit her better.

“That is a brutally simplified version of my immaculate name. But you don’t speak my tongue well; you warble when you should sing. Better than the goblins.” She looked upon his victims' broken, bloody bodies before turning away. “Let them find peace, and their bodies nourish the land. Did you have to kill them so cruelly?”

“Yes,” Vincent offered his hand to her. “Arise,” Vincent said.

The elf shivered. “That is a dangerous word; perhaps you meant to allow me to assist you in standing.”

“No,” Vincent said.

He pulled on the spear in his leg and wrenched it free. It took a chunk of flesh with it, and Vincent felt the world blacken for a moment.

“I believe you would have been best served to wait for a healer to perform such a dangerous procedure. Are you aware of the dangers of blood loss?” She leaned in closer as the blood poured out of his leg. “I don’t want to touch it; you will dirty me in the eyes of my people, but you are my savior. How could a chief’s daughter abandon their savior who fought a goblin war party on their behalf?”

Clearly, it was by talking until he bled out and not doing anything. He held pressure on it, and the pills did their work. Already the wound clotted, and he was on his way to recovery. Vincent didn’t miss how his elf companion watched him bleed with bored eyes.

He took a second green pill and felt his wound heal quicker.

“Ah, you had medicine; such forethought must belong to your leader. Did a tribe elder send you to search for me? Perhaps my father promised my hand to a young chief’s son or the future chief of your tribe. Such a tribe that gives medicine to even its lowest members can’t be weak.”

Vincent stood up and tested his weight on his wounded leg. It was good enough. Then he smacked the elf on the ass. She gasped.

“Weak if goblins hunt you.”

Her face turned red in anger, and she brushed a strand of black hair from her face.

“We have bronze weapons and armor for every warrior. Other tribes pay tribute to us and pay dearly for work from our smiths. No tribe in all of March is richer than the mountain wood tribe.”

She had two pairs of bronze earrings in her pointed ears. It might have been the equivalent of wearing gold or diamonds. Her ass certainly felt soft and pampered.

“Weak,” Vincent said.

He glanced up and saw storm clouds rolling in. The sunny day had already come to an end.

Then he felt his stomach rumble and knew he had to eat something. Blood loss and upgrading with pills had left him feeling atrophied.

They didn’t travel far before black shapes in the distance told him they were near a herd of aurochs. With no fences or pastures, the wild cows roamed the grasslands, grazing away, minding their own business. Vincent made his way toward the herd.

“The bulls will gore us if we get too close. So no one hunts them in small numbers; only a fool would try.”

Challenge 3 Time 6hrs

Complete Hunt a Wild Cow

Reward: 1 C Red pill

They were near a small forest of thick hardwoods, and he had a video saved on his phone. Vincent brought it up and quickly reviewed how to make a bow with only an ax. It looked doable even in the woods. Greenwood wouldn’t work, but in what he assumed was the bronze age for the world of Lilium, there was plenty of fallen wood. He found a fairly dried-out log and went to work on it.

“What tool are you trying to create to slay a mountain of charging muscle and bone? I see no sling or collected rocks. There are mushrooms, berries, and clean spring water for those with the mind and eye to search. Follow me, and you will not go thirsty on my tribe’s lands.” He slipped and cut himself across his hand. That would be a death sentence in the wild without his fast recovery. “You would not risk so much with my help. All you need to do is help me return to my people.”

“No,” She grunted and turned away. Vincent accidentally cut too deep into the wood and tossed his 9th try away. There was plenty of wood.

Maybe if he chose archer, he would have had a challenge to make a bow. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in the cards. He didn’t mind bows were basically kings of the battlefield for most of human history. If he managed to build a decent one, that could help him.

“Message is there a shop,” Vincent asked.

“You can exchange stylish points for items in the shop sold by other users. Arrows are down with the current surplus.”

“I need a butthole pic,” Vincent said.

The elf froze as he stood up. “At least let me know your name before you take my flower.”

“No flower butthole pic,” Vincent said.

The elf girl turned her head. “Trade for arrows.” Vincent clarified.

She didn’t understand his need to take pictures of her body to get stylish points and trade them for arrows on the open market. Some people were selfish like that.

“Windy need a pic for food,” Vincent said in her musical language.

She tried to run, but he caught her easily. Despite her lithe body, Windy might have been slightly stronger than a normal man. After 5 red pills, he could uproot trees like pulling weeds in his tomato garden. It took barely any effort to undress her, and then the modeling began. She looked completely confused while he maneuvered her for the perfect photo. Of course, it helped that the creamy-skinned elf was an incredible model. Once he had her butthole and pussy facing the camera, he snapped a few photos and a video as he had her do a flip.

100 stylish points fell in before he finished the bow. When he opened the shop, they sold a carbon steel arrow with a broad razor tip for 5 stylish points. Vincent remembered when he was young, shooting them hurt.

He pulled the black wood bow away from the tree he used to mark its draw strength with some twine. It was perfect. The black wood felt like it wanted to become a bow after his 12th try; his latest bow practically made itself.

“You are a magician; no wonder those goblins are not your match. Show me more magic; make me an animal that loves to be ridden, a tent that can stand against any wind, and a box that keeps food from spoiling.” It felt like Windy was fucking with him.

“Should I make a candle with no flame?” Her leaf-green eyes seemed to sparkle, and he tossed her a flashlight.

More stylish points rolled in until they stopped at 160. That was enough to purchase some varnish for the wood, something to wrap the handle in, and a string. Vincent was considerably stronger than before and purchased some practice arrows for 5 stylish points for 20. After that, he set a target and got used to his new weapon. Vincent decided to call the bow Black March after the color of the wood and the province it was made.

He pulled back what felt like a draw strength of 1000lbs and fired an arrow. Thwack! His arrow slammed into the stump he aimed for and yanked it halfway out of the ground.

“Get a fire going. I will be back.” He had less than an hour until the challenge would be lost. He could have killed a cow with his ax or machete but preferred to hunt with a long-range weapon.

Vincent approached the herd and crotched until he found a bush and hid inside it. He watched them graze while he picked out a target on the edge of the herd. They weren’t incredibly worried about him. He pulled back a carbon arrow and fired. The cow shot its hind legs out and kicked before running and dropping. The hunter saw his arrow sticking out of the cow’s chest and stopped in one of its shoulders.

A red pill appeared in his hand, and he popped it while the bull searched for an attacker. The herd ran away from the downed animal while it bled out. When the bull left, Vincent approached his prey. He sucked in a breath, bent low, and grabbed the cow’s legs before dragging it towards his campsite.

Butchering cows required him to look up a video. Message hadn’t informed him he was still able to see I-tube. That’s how he found the secret of butchering a cow with a machete.

Windy held Black March and tried to pull her back to no avail. Contrary to what fantasy novels and movies would like people to believe, bows were not the weapon of choice for women. It took a lot of strength to draw a bow and hold it for the perfect shot.

As it turned out, most of the meat would be wasted because a dainty elf and a human can’t eat a half-ton of cow meat. Fortunately, he could sell it for stylish points. So that’s what he did with half of it.

“Take out a loan and purchase a bag of holding, then pay back your loan with meat from materials from the local fauna.” Message said.

A bag of holding was 10,000 stylish points. Vincent didn’t want to buy it, but it could hold meat for decades without it rotting. Vincent accepted a loan, purchased the bag of holding, and established a payment plan. After that, he packed the meat and marinated it.

“This is the most meat I’ve ever had,” Windy said.

He used some of his stylish points to purchase a tent rated for 12 people and a battery-powered fan. Being tougher didn’t mean a thing when it was hot as balls. Once he was all set up and the temperature in the tent cooled down, Vincent started to relax. The guts were buried, not that he expected predators to be around. Windy looked a little less stressed inside a tent. He placed a battery-powered lamp in the center of his tent and pushed her onto the bed.

The elf covered herself in the sheet before Vincent pulled it off. Creamy soft breasts activated his libido like the charge from a crash cart. They were soft, with thick nipples capping them. Vincent’s eyes scanned down to her soft midriff to the hairless pink between her legs. He could smell her dripping. Vincent tore off the last of his clothes, and she rose to cover herself.

He kissed her into submission and grabbed her ass. Silky, smooth, and supple to the touch despite the hot, sweaty day they had. Windy’s hands went to his dick, trying to stop him from burying himself into her. That lasted until he gently pushed her arms away and pressed his cock against her hardening clit.

Challenge 14 No Time limit repeatable

Complete: Despoil Daughters of Local Leaders

Reward: 2 UC Green Pills

Vincent purchased a bottle of lube and poured it all over his cock. It paid to be prepared or access a shop that did instant deliveries. He popped open her hymen and heard it tear. The elf groaned under him as he buried himself to the base. Windy moaned as he grabbed her breasts before moving to them and sucking her large nipples. Every time he touched her nipples, her pussy pulsed and clenched.

Girls with big boobs loved it when their breasts were played with; elves were no exception. The barbarian let her enjoy her first time some before he decided to take his own pleasure. He picked her up to a sitting position. Vincent liked it when he was inside at his deepest. Then he bounced her like a toy while she adjusted her legs to get in on the action. An idea came to mind, and he searched for some vibrating toys, but they were out of his price range.

Vincent was recording the encounter but doubted he would get many stylish points for it. Unspoiled seemed to get the most stylish points from what he understood.

“My father and tribe will be disappointed in me. I gave myself to a tribeless man of a different species.”

“Cumming,” Vincent said in her language. He exploded inside her more than he ever had before. She slowly rose off of him and took a step back. Cum dripped down her legs onto the tent between the thick swollen lips of her labia. He brought up his phone. “Spread them.” She did so, and he took a picture of her torn hymen dripping with cum. Even her butthole was drenched with a layer of white.

A C red pill and 2 UC green pills fell into his hand from completing two challenges. Vincent popped them immediately. At the end of the day, power was incredibly important.

He felt satisfied and was almost ready to sleep when one of Windy’s ears twitched. “Quick, we must climb high; a monster has smelled our game. Fast there is no time.”

Yellow eyes peered at him from the firelight. He really wasn’t in Mississippi anymore.

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ultimatedaywriter · 1 year

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Gravedigger's Mania CH1

“Is a poor man more virtuous than a rich man?” Old Jim asked. In his sermon voice, Old Jim recited a passage he heard back when he lived in the godless theocracy. How Old Jim managed to make it hundreds of miles through noman’s land and swamp to become a gravedigger, Vincent didn’t know.

“No, I’m poor, and you can have your watch back,” Vincent said.

He didn’t mean to do it, but sometimes he couldn’t help but take things from other people. Kleptomania was a serious disease, and if he wasn’t in the republic, he would have already lost both hands.

By the sun, it was nearly his turn to start digging again. Vincent often took the longest since he didn’t have the gravedigger class.

“Thanks, it was my father’s; how many attributes do you have now?” Old Jim asked.

While Old Jim was talking, Vincent watched Ralf inspect the corpse sled. Necromantic spells on the bodies kept them fresh from the battlefields of no man’s land. They shouldn’t move, but one clearly twitched like a roach with a crushed head. Only in their line of work, when things twitched, often it was still alive or returning to unlife.

“9 and give me a hand,” Vincent said.

He had 9 attributes and only needed one more to have a set of 10. He could take a class that would fit him the best. Old Jim told him about it. For twenty years, he has used his low status to cheaply get blood for his sister. There were laws to afford the classless some benefits, but they were helping less each year. Most of his profits came from theft laundered through his gravedigging job. It was all for his little sister to keep her on the right side of the law.

“Am I the only one who reads the safety guides?” Old Jim asked.

Vincent pulled Ralf away from the sled as a body fought its way out from the mound of corpses. Old Jim raised his shovel and bashed it on the head. He would like to say the skull split like a dropped melon, but that would be a lie. It split for a moment, and then the broken skull fit itself back together. Only werewolves and their ilk could heal like that. Vampires looked more like reversing time or flowing water. Either way, what he was seeing, wasn’t it. He didn’t want to get close to something that could withstand Old Jim’s Gravedigger lvl97 strength.

Gravediggers weren’t martial classes but could shovel through rocks without a problem. So old Jim stabbed the man in the chest with his shovel and threw him into the half-dug hole. From there, together, we started burying it.

Once it was buried, Vincent sighed with relief before checking his human species tab.

Human lvl0 exp 95/100

He never knew if he helped people for the exp or because he liked helping others. Old Jim would say it didn’t matter, but it did to him. Vincent was close to crossing into his first level, and it wasn’t even a class. He didn’t know anyone with levels in human. Most chose to get bitten by a vampire, werewolf, or turned into a traditional undead.

“I’ll go tell Resneck he will want to know we have a bunch of were creatures rising,” Ralf said.

Old Jim spat on the ground. “Good luck with that. I haven’t seen him all day; we’re better off running.”

“What do you mean by that? If he isn’t here and we run, they’ll see us as prey, and we’ll be swarmed.” Ralf said.

They were damned if they did and damned if they didn’t. But, like rats in a wooden box, there was no easy way out. Vincent pressed a hand into his pocket and winced.

“Here are your coins back. I forgot they were in my pocket.” Vincent said.

He pulled the coins out along with Resneck’s amulet. The clearly enchanted item would sell for a few gold pieces if he could find a fence to take it. All he needed was to be reported as a thief capable of stealing from the royal family. Then, Vincent would be shipped off to the front lines and made to take a thief or black ranger class. Raiding the camps of the enemies and stealing supplies was a great way to die from a knight’s mace.

“Thank you; if we survive this, remind me to sock you in the nose for your trouble,” Ralf said.

“Sure. Do you want your dagger back?” Vincent asked.

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Ralf said.

Vincent returned his stolen goods and waited for what he knew would begin their doom. The sun set behind a broken stock tower. One of the only guard outposts in the Stock Countryside. The next tower with anything resembling a black knight was twenty miles away. A black knight might not think the deaths of a few gravediggers to raise were monsters was a fair trade. After a were creature’s first transformation and kill, they chilled out and gained control over themselves.

“I heard if you ate plenty of garlic, they would leave you alone.” Old Jim said.

“What’s Garlic?” Ralf asked.

“Contraband, my sister hates it,” Vincent said.

The other three men in their group were new and about ready to bolt. He couldn’t blame them. Vincent might have bolted, too, if this was his first time. Experience had taught him those who bolted were often killed first. Once, the were creatures erupted from a nearby corpse sled and ripped a man in half.

“The black knights will come; we’ll see the silver fangs on black shining soon enough.” A man said.

“What hallucinogens is that guy on?” Vincent checked his stats and compared them to the nearest werebat. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was the breed of, were beast they were dealing with. Well, they were in lands of the great family Camazotz so that was to be expected. But, growing up, he knew werewolves, werehynas, werebears, and even a werehorse the werebat was new. “Did lord Kan decide to try infecting vampires with a were-creature strain again?” Vincent asked.

The others looked shocked at his words, except for old Jim. “What are you guys gawking at? We need to get some distance?”

“We aren’t far from the shelter; if we can get to it in time, we can wait this out until morning,” Ralf said.

Before Vincent could say how unlikely they were to hide from creatures with eco location in a cramped hole in the ground, a bat with a 70-hand wingspan stabbed its talons through Ralf’s shoulders and carried him off screaming.

“The tower is our only chance.” Old Jim said.

Vincent moved in a fast march with his group. The sun had already halfway descended the tower as they made their way there. Men screamed before giant bats took them in the fading light. He pushed one man out of the way of talons, only for another bat to get him. While they didn’t run, they hurried to the tower and saved a few people. Old Jim’s shovel knocked a few bats away, keeping them mostly safe.

“Why do you have 9 attributes and no class?” A guy from their original team asked.

Old Jim answered for him. “Nobles in the godless theocracy don’t take a class until they are nearly my age. They instead collect different attributes until they have 10 of them. Then when they take a class, they get an 11th secret attribute.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Yea, it's from the godless theocracy; why would our republic need their filth. I heard over there humans have levels like vampires and werewolves.” Another man said.

Vincent was trying to do something similar. It wasn’t a taboo so much as it was difficult in his current culture. Saving people’s lives took a lot of grit. Instead of becoming a liability himself, he had to run into danger and help.

“How strong are the bats? Can we fight them at all?” One man asked.

“Vincent, you’re the numbers guy; what do you think?” Old Jim asked.

The classless 30-year-old man used scan; his eyes glowed blue, his gaze fell on one of the bats, and he felt a headache coming on.

Charles lvl26

Species: Werebat lvl4

Class: Bloodreaver lvl22

He scanned a few more and found similar results. Vincent let his eyes return to normal and shook his head.

“That bad,” Old Jim said.

“None of them are below lvl20, and they all have a martial class that synergizes with their werebat species. I can’t see titles, so they could be much stronger than expected.” Vincent shivered while he crunched the numbers in his head. “They could one hit kill Old Jim, and he’s the strongest guy here. Even a Black Knight would have trouble with them 1v1 add more, and it’s a death sentence. They are overspecialized in dealing damage to high HP enemies. Blood reavers get armor piercing at lvl20.” Vincent said.

The classless human pulled at his hair, trying to think of anything.

“We need a backup plan if the tower doesn’t work. Where are we close to.” Old Jim said.

Vincent thought about it. “Dragon’s Log would be safest.”

He thought about the flesh-eating parasites, mutated monsters, and dragons that used that place as a dumping ground. The classless human added an asterisk by safest. If they went in, there were some places to hide away while the werebats tromped through and picked a fight with something more powerful than them.

Vincent knew he had to get home to his sister. That thought was enough to spur him on and get him through the dark mood. To that end, he pulled a man from stepping into a sinkhole. He happened to have the best night vision around.

They reached the broken stack tower, and Vincent hammered on the door. A werebat dove low, and Old Jim smashed it to the ground with his shovel. The old man fought the creature while the others beat it with shovels.

“Go away.” A voice like grinding rocks said.

“We need help; our minder has gone missing; a citizen of Camazotz is in danger.” They all knew the black knight wouldn’t open his door for them. They were gravediggers, the lowest of the low in the republic. They needed to mention their minder if they wanted the knight to help them. Even a dhampir was a full citizen because he had the name Camazotz. Vincent waited for the man to either open the door or say something. Instead, he heard the bolts in the door clink shut, leaving them trapped.

“Fine, be that way. If you need help, don’t come crying to us. They can fly genius, and I’m sure you’ll make a great meal.” Vincent didn’t get a reply. The man had already returned to his duties. But then, a bright light stole his attention. Old Jim had finally become a lvl100 gravedigger and could choose another class. “Damn it, Jim, they are all coming for us.” On their wings, the monsters flew after them in a swarm.

Black ghastly energy swirled around Old Jim. He had chosen a class already. His second class shown from a quick scan.

Old Jim lvl101

Species: Human

Classes

Gravedigger lvl100

Black Berserker lvl1

He couldn’t believe it. Old Jim was someone. If he abandoned them and fought carefully, he could survive until morning, maybe with a few levels to show for it. After that, he would immediately join one of the many soldier companies and gain a higher status in the republic.

Old Jim took out his pipe and held his hand out to Vincent. “I would like my hash back.”

Vincent didn’t know how it ended up in his pocket but handed it to Old Jim all the same. The old man lit his pipe and pointed towards the Dragon’s Log.

“Not without you,” Vincent said.

“You’re a good boy Vincent, but you need to take care of that sister of yours. She is a brat; when you’re not around, that mouth of hers will get the both of you in trouble. Thanks for saving me.” Old Jim said.

This was it. Vincent knew it at that moment. Old Jim wasn’t walking out of his next fight. Light enveloped him as he gained his first level after 30 years of life. He hugged the old man and joined the others to escape the werebats. The creatures still picked apart their numbers as they fled until they were preyed upon by the monsters in the dragon’s log.

#fantasy #vampire #books #gamelit #litrpg #tragedy #werewolf #ai artwork #level up

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ultimatedaywriter · 1 year

Text

Gravedigger's Mania

Emily was about to commit a great sin, but it was the lesser one that she worried about. Her hands shook as she listened to the low clacking of a cane on cobblestones. No one knew her quarry was here; the dhampir liked to move quietly. It kept the assassins away. That was good; she could ill afford witnesses or black knights asking questions. Emily was about to commit a great sin and a lesser one.

She held up a picture blurred from the glare of a low lamplight. That was the problem with being a vampire; even the lowest light cast a horrible glare. Her brother was the only one she made out in the picture.

It was ok; she barely remembered her parents anymore. At 8, she was turned, and she only aged half the speed each year until she turned 16. That was her problem; she looked so young compared to her aging brother. He might have been 30, but she didn’t like to count. It was embarrassing, 30 years old, and classless. Vincent didn’t use a spell like false data to fool spies like she did. Her brother’s attributes were so low he couldn’t see much of her stats.

The clacking was growing closer. Resneck shouldn’t be here. They both knew he was responsible for her brother’s team of gravediggers. Something always went wrong, and it was up to a powerful Dhampir like Reseneck to handle it. Every day sleds of corpses were taken to be buried to purify the graveyard with negative energy. It was the only way her brother could make enough money to keep her alive.

Or that was what he thought. The fool thought Emily was helpless. By the time Emily was 15 in the new life, she had already fed off another turned. It was a practice considered forbidden.

The door to the room opened, and Resneck entered all smiles. The fool always appeared confident with his rapier at his hip and crossbow at his side. Of course, no one would fight a lvl50 dhampir. A vampire especially wouldn’t challenge them under the sun.

At Emily’s meager lvl20, she was no match for Resneck, especially under the sunlight. He was confident enough to come to her home on the poor side of town without bodyguards. Normally a dhampir of the family would have an endless entourage. Still, lately, Resnick had taken to radical claims about the godless theocracy. He had a view on humans that the true vampires didn’t like. But, as one of the voting powers of the republic, the Camazotz couldn’t afford to look weak. So they took their protections away. Someone would have pounced. Emily was only the first.

She poured him a cup of tea as the dhampir took his wide-brimmed hat off and placed it on a dusty wooden wrack.

“It has been some time since we met. I believe 20 years, by my guess.” Resneck said.

Emily sucked on her teeth. She should have expected an insult from the start. Her brother was her greatest pride and shame. It would be better if they parted ways, but the fool was too devoted for his own good. She didn’t need his help. He couldn’t see it. Vincent, the lvl0 classless gravedigger, was the talk of many as his sister; her status was lower than dirt.

“We are forever grateful for your magnanimity. Offering a boy of 10 a dangerous job like a gravedigger was quite daring. Some would say you did it more for amusement than charity.”

“It's hardly charity. Vincent does good work and hasn’t died in 20 years. If only the boy didn’t have such sticky fingers. Has he saved up enough to give you a hunting tag?”

Emily watched the man sip his tea and smirked on the inside. The poison was already taking effect. The purple petals lightly fell from a flower on the table half fallen. It really was amazing how gullible Resnick had been.

“Are you expecting something to happen? I noticed you haven’t touched your tea.” Resneck said.

Emily smiled and tapped her foot.

“How much do you think your original amulet sold for? My big brother has such sticky fingers.”

She plucked a violet petal from the rose in the center of the room. Resneck tried to stand but failed to move. His body shook as he tried to hoist himself up on the cane. Emily kicked it, snapping the stick the dhampir had once beaten her brother with until he couldn’t stand. The offending instrument collapsed with the man, never to harm anyone again.

“Do you smell that pollen? It's called Nina, after a long-dead princess of the night. It weakens the powers of those unused to its effects. Much like a vampire in the day, you are quite powerless. Fortunately, I developed an immunity to the pollen. It took nearly a decade to become immune.”

She approached the beautiful man with dark curls framing his face. Emily grabbed a great handful of Resneck’s luscious hair and yanked him up. She felt her fangs extend and bit the man’s neck. This was the sin Emily had longed to commit, an act of treason that would set her free. At last, she fed from a member of the Camazotz and gained power.

A large family like the Camazotz eventually isolated itself and let its prominent members wilt on the vine. It was glorious and terrible. She drank until the dhampir’s heart pittered out and stopped. The body didn’t turn to ash or something silly like that. No, it remained a very dead heavy body, but fortunately, as a vampire, her strength was immense. She took it to a preprepared room filled with rats.

She had taken her time and considered what she wanted to use to dispose of the body. Rats were the best she could come up with. So Emily tossed the body to the rats and watched them swarm the fresh meat.

The camazotz's blood empowered her more than ever, and she basked in the feeling of superiority. Then reality set in. She used the spell glamour and false data to transform her status page into a copy of Resneck Camazotz. For a decade, she had invited him to tea and studied the man. Every insult had been worth it; the man hadn’t suspected she would bypass his defenses. The idea of a weak turned like her below level 10 managing to harm him was laughable.

She unveiled her second sin from under the blanket on her bed. In her bed was a girl who looked like her, altered with a glamour and drained dry by Resnik’s fangs. This was the minor sin she had dreaded. To have a clean break and give both herself and her brother a chance to move on, she had to die for him. He would hate her and bang his fists on the ground, but at the end of the day, Vincent would move on and find happiness.

#gamelit #vampire #litrpg #fantasy #necromancer #centaurs #books #sexscenes #betrayal #tragedy #magicalcreatures #system

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