Chapter 163 Ritual
Chapter 163 Ritual
She was small and feminine—strangely not hideous like the goblins they had encountered before. She wore the same adorned tribal garments as the other two women.
The group gasped.
Katherine muttered, “That’s a demon minion… an exalted demon.”
“They have demons among their ranks,” Yumi said.
“Could she be at a demon general’s level?” Agnes asked.
“That means…” Reika whispered. “A Demon King empowered her…”
They exchanged uneasy glances, then looked to Deborah. Could she be the one?
Deborah didn’t care. She stayed pressed close to Iryoku, her skinship unbroken, indifferent to the world around them.
“Shh. Let the ceremony continue. We can discuss this later,” Vitka cut in sharply.
The music fell silent.
The lizardman stepped forward and knelt on one knee, facing the pyramid.
“Oh great Huitzilopochtli, God of the Sun,” he declared, his voice carrying across the clearing.
“We stand before you to bless our new lives.
Grant us strong offspring
and long years together!”
He pressed his hand firmly to his chest, fingers curled into a claw.
“I, Tonacuetzpalin, stand before you.”
The three women stepped in around him and bowed toward the pyramid, each mirroring his gesture.
“I, Itzel, stand before you,” one of the lizard women said.
“I, Xali, stand before you,” said the other.
“I, Nibbi, stand before you,” the goblin woman finished.
They then turned inward, forming a circle—four figures facing one another, hands joined.
“Brothers and sisters—we are no longer alone,” Tonacuetzpalin proclaimed, his voice loud and commanding.
“Brothers and sisters—we are no longer alone,” the three women echoed.
“We join our blood and breath as one.”
“We join our blood and breath as one.”
“My life is yours. Your life is mine.”
“My life is yours. Your life is mine.”
“No enemy shall break us apart.”
“No enemy shall break us apart.”
“In war, we unite."
“In war, we unite."
"Against those who are damned.”
"Against those who are damned.”
“We show no mercy.”
“We show no mercy.”
“For we have none.”
“For we have none.”
“To claim our fate.”
“To claim our fate.”
“Now and for eternity.”
“Now and for eternity.”
“Together in joy and rage.”
“Together in joy and rage.”
“In love and war.”
“In love and war.”
“Forever bound.”
“Forever bound.”
The four clasped hands and drew closer, their eyes filled with purpose—and devotion.
“Together in joy and rage,” they repeated as one.
“In love and war. Forever bound.”
Iryoku watched the ritual intently, eyes half-closed, yet missing nothing.
The girls were drawn in by the ceremony, entranced by its solemn power.
“It’s a wedding,” Katherine whispered, her mind stirring with memory.
The rest of the girls felt it too.
One by one, their gazes drifted toward Iryoku—some consciously, others without even realizing it.
At last, the lizardman kissed each of his brides, one by one, on the mouth.
The music surged again. Drums thundered. Flutes cried out louder than before.
All around the clearing, the tribe erupted in cheers, voices rising together in unison:
“Forever together!”
The groom lowered his hand. Each of the brides formed a claw with her fingers, scratching his palm in turn—and he returned the gesture to each of them.
Katherine paused, momentarily frozen, her ears lifting as she stared at her hand in disbelief.
The newly formed bond sealed the four, and the newlyweds finally moved as one.
Afterward, the bound group walked through the settlement, stopping before each cluster of people to receive brief blessings. Eventually, they reached Iryoku and the girls.
The girls stood at once—all except Deborah.
“May you have a good life, young ones,” Vitka said calmly.
Tonacuetzpalin nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Elder Vitka.”
His gaze then swept over the girls. They met his eyes without flinching, their expressions firm, unyielding.
“Congratulations,” they said simply, in unison.
At last, his attention shifted—to Deborah, and to Iryoku in her arms. His expression hardened, eyes turning serious.
He stepped forward, his wives following just behind him.
“Deborah,” he said, his voice steady and confident. “So you finally show yourself again. My proposal from back then still stands—and there is still time. A powerful woman like you deserves a truly powerful man… like me.”
He lifted his chin slightly.
“What do you say?” he continued. “Marry me—right here, right now.”
In an instant, the air around the girls shifted, tension snapping tight.
Alessandra moved first, fists clenched as she stepped forward, blocking the chief’s view.
Yumi followed immediately. Then Reika.
Agnes, Christina, and Katherine joined them, forming a solid wall between Deborah and Iryoku.
“Excuse me?” Yumi snapped. “How dare you. She’s already taken.”
Reika’s voice was cold, unwavering.
“Every single one of us belongs to Iryoku. Deborah included. Step back.”
Alessandra spoke next, her tone like steel.
“You just swore eternal loyalty to your brides in front of your god. Have some shame.”
Christina started to speak, eyes sharp.
“A lowly man like you cannot compare to our man—the Black God, Iryoku—your weak, flaccid c—”
She stopped herself, glancing at the nearby children, swallowing the harsher words she wanted to unleash.
Katherine said nothing, but her stance shifted—ready to deflect anything.
Agnes glared at the chief, then flicked her eyes toward her master, expecting intervention.
Vitka remained silent.
But someone else moved.
Unsteady, Iryoku stepped out from behind them. His steps wavered, jaw clenched tight, fists trembling, eyes blazing with willpower. For a second, the girls thought he was fully himself again.
His left arm glowed. The white rope coiled around his hand like a living snake.
The music died away as tension piled upon tension, the celebration collapsing into silence.
Tonacuetzpalin’s brows drew together, his expression hard and stern.
The entire clearing went still.
The lizardman smirked.
Energy surged outward, wrapping around his body as heat rippled through the air.
In his unsteady state, Iryoku focused on the figures in front of him. Their outlines flickered and overlapped, splitting into double—then triple images. His mind was still fractured, still drowning in the remnants of torture, but he forced himself to stay upright.
Pain tore through Iryoku’s head. His vision warped.
For a moment, he was drowning in an ocean of fire—burning, bound at the arms and legs, assaulted from all sides. His body shook violently.
Reality bled into memory. Sweat drenched his skin, yet he felt cold as ice. The world quivered before his eyes. For the first time in a long while, fear broke through him, and he staggered backward, his gaze dimming.
The leben within the white rope began to fade.
He nearly collapsed.
Then arms wrapped around him.
Deborah was there, pulling him close, pressing him against her body. She opened her cloak and covered him completely, hiding him from view. Beneath the fabric, she felt him shaking.
He lowered his head and pressed closer to her.
The other girls saw his state—on the verge of breaking. Pain tightened in their chests as they turned toward him.
“That man?” the lizardman scoffed, glancing at the silhouette of Iryoku trembling beneath Deborah’s cloak. “Really? That’s your man? He can’t even stand straight to defend his women’s pride—can’t even protect them.”
The girls were already moving.
Yumi formed a spinning drill of magic in her palm.
Reika raised a crackling sphere of lightning.
Water surged from Agnes’s body, swelling behind her as Aqua, the water spirit, appeared—armored in ice spikes, ready to strike.
Christina’s legs tensed, muscles coiling, her legs glowing with magic and power.
Alessandra’s entire body gleamed, her leben flaring to its highest output as she squared her stance.
Katherine lifted her hand, energy gathering and shining within her grasp.
“Motherfucker…” one of them muttered.
They were ready to kill the man standing before them.
But they all froze as Deborah finally opened her mouth.
“GRAAAAAAARRRRRHHHH—!”
The sound tore through the clearing like a living thing—raw, violent, absolute.
It was not merely a roar. It was a claim.
The ground buckled as if struck by a colossal fist. Bonfires detonated upward, flames spiraling out of control as dust and stone ripped free from the cavern ceiling. The air itself was shoved outward in a crushing shockwave, forcing everything back.
Tonacuetzpalin unleashed his power in response. Magic surged around him as he planted his feet. His wives rushed to his side, their energies locking together as they tried to endure—
—but they were driven back, feet scraping furrows into the ground under the sheer, relentless force of Deborah’s presence.
The rest of the tribe dropped low, bodies folding instinctively. Warriors froze mid-stance, weapons raised but useless, trembling beneath the weight pressing down on them.
Deborah stepped forward.
“Quiet,” she snarled.
She pulled Iryoku close, eyes burning.
“No touch.”
“Him mine.”
For a moment her luscious voice warped—deep, metallic, monstrous. Her eyes flared red and black.
Then the pressure vanished.
Silence fell.
At last, the chief straightened.
He turned sharply to his wives.
“Itzel. Xali. Nibbi,” he said.
The two lizardwomen were shaken—but unharmed.
Then his gaze fell on the third.
“Nibbi,” he repeated, unease creeping into his voice.
The goblin woman was kneeling on the ground, one hand pressed to her chest in reverence toward Deborah. Her body trembled violently.
“Ah… ah…” she gasped, struggling to steady herself, moving purely on instinct.
At last, the chief turned back to Deborah.
“Alright, woman,” he said calmly. “No need to be angry. I won’t ask again—and I won’t disrespect your man.”
A forced, friendly smile crossed his face, as if nothing had happened.
He stepped back to his goblin wife and gently helped her to her feet. Her body refused to obey for a few seconds—
—until Deborah settled back onto the ground, holding Iryoku close in her arms. Only then did the goblin finally move.
“Hey—give us our weapons back while you’re at it,” Yumi snapped.
Nearby warriors tensed, stepping closer to their chief, faces hardening at what they perceived as disrespect during his wedding.
Tonacuetzpalin raised a hand, stopping them. His expression remained pleasant.
“Return them,” he ordered.
As he spoke, he patted Nibbi’s knee, brushing dirt from her clothes.
He then turned back toward Iryoku and the girls.
“I would like to propose an alliance,” he said. “You are clearly strong warriors—blessed by the gods, united, and disciplined. And since Elder Vitka recommended you as trustworthy…”
With that, he added lightly, “Enjoy the celebration,” and moved on, continuing down the line to receive blessings from the next group, as if nothing had happened.
Vitka let out a tired sigh.
“That man is a fool. He’s already fought Deborah once—and was utterly destroyed. There’s no one here who could measure up to her. But this was the only way to earn his trust and respect.”
Her words went unheard.
The girls were already checking on Iryoku.