Chapter 34: Amazon Class & Lunch Again?
Chapter 34: Amazon Class & Lunch Again?
“♫ We dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, in our mine the whole day through! To dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig is what we like to do! ♫”
Thorin and I didn’t share a vast treasury of memories from our past lives on Earth. We belonged to entirely different generations, separated by decades of cultural shifts. Yet, the timeless magic of the original Snow White movie was a bridge that spanned the gap between our eras. As we labored away in the dim light of the arena, our voices rose in a synchronized, surprisingly harmonious duet.
It turned out Thorin had been quite the vocal talent in his previous life. Together, our baritones echoed off the stone walls, bringing a bizarre, lighthearted rhythm to an otherwise grim chore.
The musical camaraderie shattered when Thorin paused, resting his weight on his shovel. He pointed a gloved hand toward a dark, massive stain stretching across the stone. "Hey, Loki. There’s an absurd amount of blood over here. Was all of this Ayala's?"
I glanced over at the exact spot where I had experienced my very first death in this world. Shaking my head, I offered a wry smile. "No. That chunk was entirely me. Don't worry, it was only a flesh wound."
Thorin stared at me blankly. He clearly didn't get the Monty Python reference.
Sighing at the wasted wit, I pointed toward the opposite side of the arena, near the shattered pillars where Shehuang had embraced the collapsed Amazon warrior. "The pool I’m scrubbing over here? Yeah, that one was definitely Ayala's."
Thorin shook his head, a mix of amusement and exasperation crossing his rugged features. "Brother Loki, do me a favor. Remind me of this day when I eventually get mad at you. That way, I'll know to calm myself down and just hire someone else to beat you up instead."
"Shouldn't your wording be 'if' I get mad, not 'when'?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He just deadpanned me. His silence was all the answer I needed.
Yeah, my mouth really is a bastard.
I could have called Shehuang to reshape the stone with her earth-metal utility magic, or summoned Taki to wash the stadium clean with her water spells. But I actively chose not to. I refused to treat them as mere magical tools. They were my companions, not appliances. Because of that stubborn principle, Thorin and I had to rely entirely on good old-fashioned elbow grease.
Yin Meng, however, had absolutely insisted on helping. To compromise, I assigned her to the easier, less strenuous tasks, leaving her to rhythmically sweep the dust and debris from the pristine edges of the court.
Driven by the enhanced stamina of our superhuman bodies, we miraculously managed to restore the battered arena to a semi-usable state by the time morning transitioned into noon.
With our muscles aching and the lunch hour fast approaching, we finally broke character, dropping our tools and heading toward the showers and changing rooms tucked away in the back of the facility. The academy had provided a row of ten compact private stalls to ensure students could clean up after grueling training sessions. They also issued gym-like sweats to wear during practice, preventing us from ruining our tailored, expensive school uniforms.
As I changed out of my soiled gear, I couldn't help but notice the distinct aesthetic of the athletic clothing. The design carried an unmistakable, strangely nostalgic Japanese high school vibe. The girls' uniform consisted of tight black bloomers paired with a loose white t-shirt stamped with the royal crest. I could practically hear the lingering ghost of the perverted, otaku King Owen coughing in approval from across the annals of history.
My designated private stall was a modest ten-by-ten-foot room equipped with a single, standing shower.
Patter, splatter!
The water poured down, thick with hot, rising steam that instantly began to soothe my tightened muscles and wash away the grime. Unlike the modern plumbing of Earth, the magical showers in Myst didn't shoot water horizontally from a wall fixture. Instead, the mechanism dripped straight down from the ceiling like a heavy, localized waterfall. Standing beneath it felt like being caught in a dense, tropical downpour.
Creak—!
The sudden sound of the heavy wooden door swinging open startled me. I snapped my eyes toward the entrance, my green gaze narrowing in a mix of wariness and curiosity.
Stepping straight through the steam was Ayala. She stood six feet, four inches tall, completely naked, and utterly unbothered. Meeting my startled stare, she gave a concise, matter-of-fact nod and stepped directly into the cascade of water right next to me.
Noticing my tense posture and wide eyes, she calmly explained her intrusion. "You used my exclusive changing room. But there is no reason to be shy. I am simply sharing the water with you to conserve the academy's magic cores. Besides, there is nothing wrong with us seeing one another naked."
I blinked, a sudden wave of realization washing over me. Ah. So that’s why this specific stall smelled so nice compared to the other locker rooms. Oops.
As she reached past me for the bar of soap resting on a small stone ledge, I cleared my throat, curiosity overriding my awkwardness. "Aren't you worried about anyone else catching us like this? Or, you know, what I might think? We're both completely naked in a tiny shower. I could easily bump into you."
Ayala looked down, her gaze casually tracking the immediate, involuntary reaction of my anatomy, which had quickly risen to half-mast under her proximity. She rubbed the bar of soap between her palms, generating a thick lather.
"Seeing us together naked? No," she said, her voice smooth and devoid of any hesitation. "As far as I am concerned, normal human culture would already classify us as a 'couple' or a 'mated pair.' As for your opinion? Did you bother to ask for mine when you kissed me so forcefully on the battlefield?"
She stepped a fraction closer, the steam swirling around her towering physique. "How about when you held my breast while kissing me? Or when you carried me, and your hand explicitly felt my ass? As for bumping into me, go right ahead. And I remind you, this shower is mine. Look, touch, and admire my body as much as you like, Loki. By human standards, it is perfection."
She extended her hands, offering me the sudsy bar. "Here is the soap. Wash me. Explore my skin and sate your curiosity. Consider it a practical lesson in Amazon biology. Also, out of curiosity, did you know it was King Owen who originally invented soap?"
She held her arms out slightly, inviting my touch. A few distinct thoughts immediately collided in my mind.
First, Amazons operated exactly like men when it came to nudity, lack of shame, and sheer forwardness. Second, her previous hostility toward me had completely evaporated. The combination of me besting her in combat, sparing her life, and my accidental, heat-of-the-moment confession of love seemed to have won her over completely. Looking at her smoking-hot, statuesque figure under the cascading water, I genuinely couldn't find a single downside to this development.
Lastly... did King Owen really invent soap? Looking at the sudsy, flower-scented bar in my hand, something felt inherently hilarious and slightly off.
Why on earth would a literal King spend his time formulating bath products?
Deciding to ponder historical anomalies later, my hands moved instinctively. I lathered up my palms, stepped forward, and began to slowly caress the tight, sculpted curves of her body, inspecting the sheer muscle definition beneath her skin.
This bold, unhesitating movement clearly pleased Ayala. A subtle, satisfied smile touched her lips, proving she had half-expected me to reject her forwardness.
"Loki, did you know that genetically, the Amazons are actually closer to Elves than Humans?" she murmured, leaning back slightly as my hands glided over her abdominal muscles.
I adopted a rhythmic, wax-on-wax-off mentality, thoroughly surprised by the piece of lore. "Really? Then why does the rest of the world just call you human? Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging, I'm just genuinely curious. By the way, your skin is remarkably soft for a warrior race. And you don't seem to have any body hair, just like the Elves."
Ayala smoothly took the soap back from my left hand, freeing both of my arms so I could roam uninterrupted. She began to lather her own hands.
"Soft skin provides flexibility in combat, not just pleasure for a man's touch," she corrected gently. "As for our lack of body hair, that stems from our ancestry. We are partially descended from Flame Fairies and Fire Giants. Not the brute Giants native to Myst, mind you, but those from the elemental Plane of Fire."
She stepped even closer, her warmth radiating through the cool water droplets. "The mostly female 'Fairy Giants' were roughly human-sized. Centuries ago, they migrated to Myst and interbred with the human populations. After roughly ten thousand years of evolution, our bloodlines stabilized into the Amazon nation you see today. The Flame Fairy influence keeps us close to the Elves, while the Giant heritage gives us our stature. Now... it is my turn to examine your body."
My hands, which had just been happily cupping her breasts, completely froze.
Ayala displayed zero hesitation. She reached down with her soapy hands and immediately began to play with my now fully erect manhood. I gasped, caught entirely off guard by the sheer, unbridled directness of an apex predator.
"Teacher Ayala... you need to handle that a bit more gently," I coughed out, my voice straining. "It’s... ah... it's the weakest part of a man. Yeah, right there. That's much better."
She tilted her head, her sharp eyes locking onto mine from her superior height. For a fleeting second, I felt like a damsel in distress being playfully toyed with by a dominant force.
"This intense reaction is definitely being driven by your biological impulses," Ayala noted, her tone analytical yet deeply pleased. "I like it. We do not have enough time to properly mate today, but I officially invite you to come to my quarters whenever you wish to inseminate me. I want a child with you."
She gripped me firmer, her gaze unwavering. "I do not care for your human prudishness or social hangups. I am honest to a fault, Loki. I want to mate with you because you earned my respect. You have won the right to make this body yours alone. Oh—this?!"
"Oh—! Yeah, I'm about to—"
Pressed by the sudden, intense friction, I surged forward, pressing the crest of my erupting manhood right against the junction of her thighs, letting the sudden release spill down her skin to explicitly mark my territory.
Ayala watched with fascinating curiosity. She reached down, rubbing the tip of her fingers through the warmth of the fluid running down her slit, and smiled a genuinely radiant smile.
"Good. I respect you as a man, Loki. At the very least, you did not reject me. Now, we must get dressed and leave."
"Wait!" I called out, grabbing her wrist before she could turn off the water.
She paused, looking back over her shoulder. "What?"
"Ayala, you can't be my partner if I'm not allowed to kiss you," I said, my voice dropping into a tone of absolute seriousness. "That is my absolute bottom line."
For the Amazon race, kissing a man was an incredibly rare act—far more intimate, exclusive, and guarded than the physical act of mating itself. But looking at the fierce gravity in my eyes, something in her heart yielded. She chose to obey my solitary demand.
Mwah!
Wrapping her strong arms around me in a thoroughly domineering embrace, she leaned her head down and captured my lips.
It wasn't a soft, passionate Earth kiss. It was primal, fierce, and borderline dangerous. Our teeth scraped against one another as we pulled and sucked on each other's lips, a chaotic blend of complete romantic inexperience and raw, predatory instinct. By the time the violent exchange finally ended, I realized my hands had migrated down, gripping her muscular rear with a bruising intensity.
Ayala pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Okay, Loki. I like kissing. It stays."
Dazed and utterly speechless, we silently dried ourselves off, threw on our uniforms, and left for the restaurant, tacitly agreeing never to speak a word of the shower encounter to the outside world.
As we approached the academy's dining hall, Thorin picked up on my thoroughly spaced-out, existential expression. His gaze drifted past me, tracking the rhythmic swing of Ayala's hips as she walked a few paces ahead of us.
"Loki... do you actually like...?"
He trailed off, pointing his eyes toward Ayala's back to finish the question. Because of her terrifyingly acute 7th Circle Amazon senses, uttering the words out loud in public was a literal suicide mission.
I let out a long, heavy sigh. "Yeah. I can't help it. It's simultaneously the simplest and most complicated thing in the world."
Thorin suddenly stopped in his tracks, a look of profound realization washing over his face. "Damn... they always say men grow up looking for women who remind them of their mothers. But you actually went out and found yourself a green-eyed redhead?!"
The words hit me like a physical blow. I froze, completely stunned. Wait... is that psychological trope actually true? Did I subconsciously do that?!
Before I could spiral into an existential crisis, Yin Meng stepped up, pointing toward the bustling common eating area. "Master, I will be waiting right over there if you have need of me."
I nodded, watching her depart before steeling myself to face the dining room.
The moment we arrived at our reserved table, I became entirely convinced that the concept of Fate was actively playing a joke on me. Lana, Vali, and Lisa Swallow were already seated, chatting idly. The moment they saw us, they waved us over like old, intimate friends.
Before I could even calculate the optimal seating arrangement to avoid drama, Thorin bypassed me entirely, sliding right into the seat next to Princess Lana again.
Ayala moved with tactical precision as well, deliberately claiming the seat that separated me from Thorin. The maneuver effectively sandwiched me directly between two powerful female teachers for the second day in a row.
Lana had clearly expected this setup, but a fleeting flicker of deep disappointment still flashed within her brilliant blue eyes when she saw me sit elsewhere.
Vali was the first to break the ice, gesturing warmly toward my empty chair. "Sir Loki! I'm glad you could make it today. Please, sit. We arrived a bit early, but you are right on time. Let us get our orders in."
The moment I sat down, a delicate, incredibly fresh fragrance drifted over from my right. It belonged to the magic teacher, Lisa Swallow.
Turning my head, I realized she had put a significant amount of effort into her appearance today. She wore tasteful, light makeup that accentuated her sharp features, a warm, inviting smile, and carried an undeniable aura of mature charm. Her posture practically screamed, 'Look at me and admire how sophisticated I am.'
Catching me staring at her, she quickly adopted a playful, mock-displeased pout. "Good afternoon, Count. By the way, make sure you do not miss my magic class this afternoon. I will be lecturing on Secret Realms, specifically regarding the Royal Academy's upcoming foray into the Royal Realm. You definitely won't want to miss it."
Just as I was beginning to grow suspicious of her sudden, uncharacteristic sweetness, the sheer weight of her words completely derailed my train of thought. A Secret Realm!
"What? Really?!" I leaned forward, my eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. "The Academy actually possesses its own Secret Realm? And the students are allowed to go inside?!"
Lisa blinked, visibly taken aback by my enthusiastic reaction. Most noble students harbored an intense, deep-seated fear of entering unmapped, anomalous spatial realms. Seeing my genuine joy, she quickly slipped back into her authoritative teacher persona, nodding with a small smile.
"Yes. My students, along with a select few from other approved classes, will be participating in a mandatory field trip to explore it. It is not classified as a high-danger realm. The Royal Family has thoroughly mapped and secured it for generations to harvest its rare resources. However, it remains an unparalleled environment for gaining real-world experience."
"I absolutely want to go," I said without a second thought. "Can I?"
Lisa elegantly raised her menu, shielding the lower half of her face as she looked at me over the rim. "Only if you actually show up to my lectures, pay attention, and take flawless notes. I refuse to allow any student inside who cannot memorize the absolute basics of spatial safety. Your raw fighting capability and intelligence aren't the issue here, Count. Your real challenge will be class attendance."
She tapped the parchment. "Now, let us order."
What Princess Lana didn't know was that behind the scenes, her entire academic schedule had been aggressively rearranged. Queen Angelica had quietly used her political leverage to transfer the young princess out of almost all of Loki's classes—leaving only her Summoner course intact—in a deliberate bid to force her into closer proximity with Thorin.
Lana, who had only just received the abrupt notification of her forced transfer, looked at Lisa with a pleading expression. "Vice... I mean, Teacher Swallow? What about me? I was suddenly moved to a different magic track this morning. Does that mean I am banned from going to the Secret Realm?"
"Do not worry, Princess," Lisa reassured her smoothly. "Your new magic instructor will also be participating in the joint expedition, assuming you maintain your studies properly. Oh, and Sir Thorin? You are enrolled in that exact same magic class now, correct? You will need to take your studies seriously if you wish to set foot in the Royal Realm."
Completely unaware of Queen Angelica's political maneuvering, I simplemindedly assumed that Lana’s own mother, Queen Breeze, was the one pulling strings to keep the princess away from me. Because it fit her protective nature, I didn't question the schedule change.
Vali nodded in agreement, leaning across the table. "Only the first-year students are permitted to enter this time around to keep the logistics manageable. However, Sir Thorin, since I share that specific magic class with you, I must ask a favor. If we go, please help me watch over my sister. Even a secret realm carries inherent dangers."
Lisa suddenly reached for the center of the table, wrapping her fingers around a chilled bottle of imported alcohol. She tilted it toward me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Count, I simply cannot drink this entire bottle of Sky Duchy Vodka by myself during a school lunch. Would you mind sharing a glass with me?"
I stared at the high-proof liquor, a dry smile forming on my face.
Man... drinking heavy liquor on school grounds just feels inherently wrong. I love it.
Review, Comment, and light up Favorite Buttons...