Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: Глава седьмая. Суровые трудовые будни Героя Королевы Эльфов

Chapter Seven. The Rough Working Days of the Hero of the Elf Queen

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"Master, wake up! It's time to get up," Gata's purring voice broke through the morning drowsiness.

Murmuring something inarticulately, Cyril rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, trying to keep sleep at bay. He didn't want to get up from such a soft and warm bed. Alas, but the cat-lady was adamant.

“Five more minutes was almost half an hour ago. Get up or you'll be late for practice!"

Cyril groaned in despair and tried to beg the maid for more sleep, but the cat-lady didn't fall for it and used a forbidden trick against her master. Partially transformed, Gata changed her face a bit, giving it feline features. In particular, she grew a very long whiskers. She pulled the blanket off Kirill and tickled his neck and face with them.

"Stop it! Stop it, it tickles! Stop it! Okay, okay, I'm getting up!"

"I'm glad to hear that,” Gata purred contentedly, regaining her former appearance.

Turning over on his back, Cyril stretched and threw a feignedly displeased look at the slyly smiling cat lady. But she ignored him completely, smiling broadly and slyly. The eared-tailed wretch realized very quickly that Cyril was afraid of tickling, and now she shamelessly used this weakness when it was necessary to get him out of bed.

"You could have woken me up in a nicer way,” Cyril grumbled, glancing meaningfully at his maid.

There was plenty to watch. Gata sat beside him on the bed, wearing only a nightgown of white silky fabric a little short of her knees. The catgirl looked very seductive in it. The thin fabric hid almost nothing, and Gatha had probably left a couple of the top buttons undone on purpose. So her large breasts with their dark brown nipples protruding were visible. As were her long, slender legs.

"I tried, but you didn't want to wake up,” the cat girl purred back, wagging her long, fluffy tail playfully.

Moving closer to Cyril, she ran it over the young man's chest and stomach, and her face took on a sympathetic expression.

"Did the honorable Diantrel tire you so much yesterday, sir?"

Closing his eyes, Cyril let out a doomed groan, remembering yesterday's training session:

"You have no idea how much."

As she drew close to the young man, the cat lady purred sympathetically:

"I know it's not easy for you, but everything the honorable Diantrel is doing is for your good. And I'm sure you can handle it. And Armina and I will help you do it."

Without opening his eyes, Cyril reached out with his left hand and ran his palm along the catgirl's thigh. Beneath her smooth skin, he could feel the trained muscles of a professional athlete. He slid his palm farther under the edge of her nightgown, squeezed the firm buttock lightly, and then ran his index finger over Gatha's coccyx a few times with pressure. Where her fluffy tail began.

"I'm really counting on it..."

Gata's yellow eyes flashed with a quiet and predatory rumble, and then in one graceful movement, she was on top of Cyril. Who, like any normal healthy man in the morning, was already in full readiness. There was no underwear on the cat-lady, only a nightgown, which she immediately pulled off in one honed movement, leaving her completely naked. Opening his eyes Cyril savored the beautiful sight of her trained body for a few seconds. Under the smooth skin, he could see small but distinct muscles. The result of years of hard training multiplied by natural talent.

Gata lifted slightly and guided the young man's cock into her pussy, riding it smoothly. Cyril exhaled slowly from pleasure and put his hands on Gata's hips, which she used to squeeze him tightly. The catgirl, clearly showing off, arched her back, jutting out her breasts, wagged her tail a few times, and then made herself comfortable. Looking down at Cyril from above, she placed her palms over his palms and squeezed them. Without saying a word, he nodded to her and closed his eyes, beginning the gradual merging of their subtle bodies into one energy circuit. Given their knowledge, experience, and Gata's complete lack of resistance, plus their high mutual compatibility, the merging process took only a few seconds. And then their energies merged, as well as their physical sensations, almost doubling the pleasure they were receiving. Closing his eyes in pleasure, Cyril inhaled deeply. What a high!

Who would have thought the acquired magical gift would also be useful in bed? After the first nights with Gata and Armina, Cyril noticed that during sex each of the maids felt differently. And not only physically, but also energetically. It was especially clear at the moment of intimacy. Gata felt hot and fast in the energetic plane, and more vivid. Armina, on the other hand, was not so hot, her energy felt rather warm, and calmer, but also more intense. In any case, the sensations from the energies of both maids were very pleasant and added to the pleasure. Cyril also noticed that after morning sex with either of them he felt noticeably more active and even had a little more energy than his full reserve.

He even cautiously inquired about it from his mentor, and Diantrel calmly explained to him without blinking an eye that the practice of regaining energy through sex did exist and was quite effective. And they would definitely practice them later. At that moment the young man was a little stunned by such directness and directness. At least it did not occur to him to blurt out some epic nonsense like the question: “With you?” Fortunately, his instinct for self-preservation kicked in just in time to get his brain neurons working.

And as if in confirmation of Diantrel's words, when reaching the next level after their conversation, Cyril was offered by the System several knowledge and properties of the corresponding orientation. Of course, he didn't take any of them! It was not enough to spend hard-earned bits of power on such nonsense. Even if it was very pleasant. And in the end, it wasn't necessary. Thanks to the “advanced fundamentals of internal energy management and control”, he was able to perform an energy merge with Armina first, and the next morning with Gata. With all precautions, of course, so as not to get himself into trouble again.

It was strange at first, and he couldn't merge with them on the first try, but then he got the hang of it, which was helped by the fact that both maids were very compatible with him in terms of energies. And each subsequent merge became easier and easier. And he noticed that regular sex with them made each subsequent merger a little easier. As he realized later, it was because of the fact regular intercourse made them more and more “tuned in” to each other.

Cyril realized this when, after another morning sex with Armina before training, he suddenly and free of charge received one of the previously offered by the System knowledge on the subject of life-giving sex. “Basic Fundamentals of Tantric Energy Restoration Techniques” immediately started downloading, which almost made him late for this very training. He had to lie in bed waiting for them not only to “install” but also to “combine” with the existing ones. However, it was a sin to complain about a freebie, and even more so for such a freebie. Since now sex with maids brought not only pleasure and psychological relaxation but also a noticeable benefit. Add energy in the morning before training, restoring it in the evening. But only if in the evening these very powers remained at least in some quantity. Not to mention the increased pleasure of intercourse.

Now Cyril mutually enjoyed merging with Gata for a few seconds, and then the catgirl began to move her hips smoothly, gradually increasing the pace. The sensations were simply awesome, the young man simultaneously felt how the maid's cunt was squeezing his cock, and how his cock was entering her. And thanks to the fusion, he could feel exactly what and how his partner wanted. And she felt what and how he wanted. Without saying a word, Cyril let go of Gata's palm and reached forward with his right hand, squeezing the catgirl's breasts and beginning to caress them rhythmically. Otherwise, he completely gave her the initiative and didn't regret it at all, enjoying both the physical closeness and Gata's hot but pleasant energy flowing in and through him.

Of course, a true hero of the masterpieces of Japanese animation, some amount of which, noticeably different from zero, Cyril had seen, was obliged to organize a full-fledged sex marathon for the cat-girl in such a situation. And to get out of bed only after fucking her to unconsciousness, and pouring a couple of gallons of the known white substance, so that it flowed from all her holes. Cyril was very far from such peaks of bed mastery of the drawn inhabitants of the country of the rising sun. Especially taking into account the class and available characteristics. If he had ten, or better fifteen points in “Constitution”, then it would be possible to think about such a thing. Or if he had some epic class like “Fucker Terrorist” with the appropriate knowledge and properties.

But even if he had any of the above, he still wouldn't have cosplayed famous hentai characters who were almost universally missing their eyes. Because he didn't have the time. In all the time since he'd started training, Cyril had never once allowed himself to be late for training. And something, perhaps the proverbial intuition of isekai heroes, told him he should not do it. Otherwise, no amount of tantric sex practice could help.

Another pleasant bonus from the acquired knowledge and skills was that now he did not have such a problem as leaving his partner unsatisfied because of excessive “haste”. When their very first morning coitus with Gata had ended unexpectedly and unpleasantly quickly, Cyril had become embarrassed and nervous. Gata, who was riding him then, only smiled and purred that it was the sacred duty of a good maid to take care of her master and his needs. Including quenching his “morning desire”. Also, a good maid always understands when her master has the time, ability, and desire to give her full reciprocal pleasure and when he doesn't. So he has nothing to be embarrassed about.

That explanation had reassured Cyril, as well as the assurance of the two maids that they would not carry a child from him unless he wanted them to, thanks to small inconspicuous amulets in the form of jewelry. And then, after he'd mastered the energy fusion technique and gotten the profile skill, the first question was gone. The merging of subtle bodies into one energy circuit guaranteed that pleasure would be fully enjoyed by both partners at the same time. Or neither of them would get it. Thus, very quickly Cyril got into the taste and stopped limiting himself in terms of sex, almost every day spending the night and meeting the morning with either Armina or Gata. And a couple of times with both of them at once.

Of course, some textbook isekai CJS strictly condemned it. After all, according to the majority of Japanese, the main character is obliged to be dumb to the last, not noticing the whole harem of women hanging on him and not understanding what they need from him and what to do with them. But Cyril such behavior of Japanese animation characters in every second title at first amused, then began to frankly piss him off. Therefore, he was not going to imitate them, even under the hypothetical threat of becoming disrespected among the inhabitants of the land of the rising sun. Especially since in this world such behavior is not only not condemned, but is considered the norm. And if he, in the absence of an official or not-so-official partner, would not be interested in his maids and would not use them in any way at the same time, it would cause legitimate questions from others. At best, he would be suspected of being attracted to young men rather than maidens.
ОЯШ

Of course, Cyril didn't need it. So, having overcome the initial shyness and timidity, he began to fully savor the delights of his current position. Just feel like a young and rich aristocrat, from some noble family, with a pedigree like a show poodle, living in a private mansion with a couple of pretty and completely submissive maids. And somehow you begin to understand all kinds of dukes, marquises, and other noblemen from the native world, who to the last did not want to give up their privileges and pleasures of life.

However, Cyril strongly doubted that all the sons of the Dukes of Burgundy and Cumberland were chased from morning till evening as Diantrel chased him. Well, at least, certainly not all of them. Otherwise, the aristocracy of his home world would not have degenerated into what it had degenerated into. He didn't care much about the problems of the nobles of Earth, though. And right now they didn't bother him at all. All of Cyril's thoughts and feelings were focused on the cat lady riding rhythmically on top of him. Thanks to their energetic fusion and high compatibility, they quickly reached a resonance that led to the only possible outcome. With a simultaneous groan, Cyril and Gata also finished at the same time. Breathing heavily, all soaked and flushed, the catgirl smoothly lowered herself onto him, sinking the young man's face into her chest and wrapping her arms around his head, beginning to run her fingers through his hair. Cyril did not resist, enjoying the scent of a woman's skin mixed with the smell of sweat and the firmness of Gata's not-insignificant tits.

Alas, he could not afford such a pleasure for long. Kissing the maid on the lips, Cyril got out of bed and hurried to his bathing room. Having quickly washed and rinsed himself in the local analog of a shower, full of energy and invigorated, he returned to the bedroom, where Armina was already finishing making the bed and Gata was tidying up. No longer embarrassed by his nakedness, the young man quickly dressed in the familiar training suit, not forgetting the artifacts he had been given. A magic rod and a medium-sized staff made of the same kind of light wood, decorated with fine carvings and a small gem on the top.

When he finished dressing and getting ready, the maids quickly but meticulously inspected him to ensure Cyril's appearance was flawless. After adjusting his clothes a bit, they quickly fed their master a light breakfast and wished him a good workout. Saying goodbye to them, Cyril left his chambers, behind which Fiorel was already waiting for him, heading off to face another round of pain, agony, and suffering under the guidance of the beautiful eternally young maiden. Heh, sounds just like an Asian masochist-cultivator's dream...

* * *

In fact, his current rhythm of life was something like that. The first week after he'd started training Diantrel had driven him around the fifth training ground day and night. From morning until late afternoon, with only a short break for lunch and short breaks between runs, until Cyril's reserve was at rock bottom and he had only enough energy left to crawl to his quarters and collapse into the arms of his maids. And every day his training became more difficult. New types of targets were added.

The original dummies quickly became a great blessing for Cyril. As they were joined by flying targets attacked singly or in packs. Skittish and incredibly mobile, they were a real headache. It was almost impossible to hit them with an ordinary magical arrow. It was necessary either to use an analog of “duck shot”, or to form a somewhat more complex weave, with an analog of homing on the target. The latter required, of course, more effort, a little more time, and a little more reserve.

In addition to the flyers, there were new ground targets. Some of them were stationary, but they had reinforced magic shields, which covered not only themselves but also other opponents. And they did not forget to fire at Cyril. Others, being wooden humanoid golems, created with the help of druidism, were very mobile, trying to constantly come at Cyril from the rear and flanks. The third was stationary, but with reinforced attack wands, direct hits from which could easily break through his defense, or almost completely nullify its reserve. And all this variety of opponents had to be not just shot with magical arrows like in a shooting gallery.

He had to move around the range, from one point to another. Do it over time, keep defenses there, then move to the next one. On the way, try to avoid enemy attacks, because the reserve of protective amulets and shields was not infinite, and the duration of the runs was growing. And still manage to hit them back. Then came a variety of sudden introductions that made his life even more difficult. Diantrel checked Cyril's equipment before each training session and adjusted it properly. And then, watching him, she would suddenly turn off his golden hoop, depriving him of magical vision, or suddenly zero out the reserve of his protective amulet plates. Or, the most unpleasant and difficult, blocked his magic wand.

So Cyril had to eliminate the “damage” while under fire, restoring the work of his amulets and artifacts, or do without them until the end of the race. In these cases, he was greatly helped by the “Fundamentals of working with basic amulets and artifacts”, thanks to which, as a rule, he was able to identify and eliminate violations in the weaves. But several times, having been left at the most inopportune moment without amulet protection and not having time to form his own, Cyril received very painful blows, which caused the race to fail. And he had to start again.

It was obvious that the elves took the training of their gifted, who had chosen to serve in the Forest Guard, very seriously. As a result, as a rule, by the middle of the day, Cyril felt completely exhausted, and the reserve was well within a quarter. And training continued until the evening. For the first two days, he kept up this pace but then he started to talk about reducing the load. Or, at least to dilute them a little with theory, which did not require running around the range under fire. Diantrel responded with a categorical refusal, rightly stating that for every minute that Cyril spends without benefit his enemy uses it to become stronger. Theoretical studies in his case are very unproductive since he receives knowledge from the Soul Tablet directly. It was impossible to argue with this, and he had to bear it with clenched teeth.

But to be fair, such intensity and pace were paying off. Especially after Cyril had taken the “Intensive Development I” property, which increased his experience just from such practical training, instead of the next level of knowledge. He remembered that this option had not been offered to him initially. Together with the increasing complexity of the training, it gave a noticeable acceleration of development. Not dramatic but noticeable, especially at the first levels. As a result, during the first week of training at training ground number five, which Cyril had several nightmares about, he managed to keep the pace of one day - one level. With more and more difficulty and at the cost of more and more stress, but still managed.

As a result, by his first day off, an exhausted Cyril had reached level nine. This was also facilitated by another small system assignment, given in the middle of the week, just before the start of the next training day. The assignment, as small as it was, was fairly simple and required him to form and maintain four small mobile magical shields for ten minutes under target fire while running around the training ground. However, it had one small but very important nuance. Cyril was not to make it known to outsiders in any way. In case of disclosure of the fact of receiving and accepting the assignment, it was considered automatically canceled. In case of disclosure of the details - failed.

After reading this paragraph, Cyril thought wistfully that the admins, or whoever controls the System, would not allow him to complete a lot of difficult assignments relying on the help and power of elves, thus gaining free experience. Yeah, who would have thought that noob bump in this game is not approved... But it was so tempting to get a quest to kill some shit, and easily accomplish it with the support of a dozen or two elite agents of the local KGB. But there was nothing to do, so he accepted the quest without informing his mentor, who sent him on another run around range number five, damn it.

Cyril completed the assignment because this variant of defense was quite suitable for him at the first stages of the race. He got a portion of the experience, and also his understanding of the principles of creating protective weaves increased a bit. However, it was impossible to hide the fact of receiving the assignment from his mentor. To be more precise, Diantrel paid attention to the not-most optimal variant of defense, which Cyril chose, and which he continued to use even at the stage of the race, when small mobile barriers became inferior in efficiency to medium stationary ones. Plus, three shields would have been enough for him, not four.

Cyril didn't see the point in lying or omitting, because he had already completed the assignment, so he told about it honestly. Diantrel listened to him very seriously and immediately reported everything to her mentor. After that she and the Elder Enchantress, looking at the young man carefully, asked him not to accept and not to try to perform on his own those assignments that could be dangerous for him. Even if they promised him a substantial reward for them because his life was much more important. Cyril, of course, agreed. The elven women thanked him for his prudence, after which the Elder Enchantress left and Diantrel continued her training. In the sense of bullying the poor and unfortunate young man.

As a result, by his first day off, Cyril was completely, one hundred percent, and what was there, one hundred and five hundred percent convinced that the path of an Asian cultivator was not for him, and he had seen it in the grave! All these endless exhausting training with polishing dan-something-tan for the sake of another portion of the experience, when by evening there is only strength left to crawl to bed - fuck it! Maybe for all sorts of Chinese-Japanese-Koreans, such a regime would be ideal, and they would only be happy. Cyril could now say with certainty that he would have preferred a more sedate regime, but who would let him? No, he did not doubt that if he insisted, Diantrel would give in. Except... Somehow Cyril was sure that this way he would lose a hundred points in the eyes of the elves. Or maybe two hundred. In short, in game terms, he would ruin his reputation with the faction very seriously, considering how much effort and money they had already invested in him.

So he had to endure. Gata and Armina, as it is not difficult to guess, became an outlet for him in the series of these harsh working days. After all, when you have a very nice and obedient cat-wife waiting for you at home, not with a bowl of rice, but with food of the level of an expensive restaurant - it is very pleasant. All the more that in a set with a cat-wife there is also an ordinary wife. In other words, a very caring and very pretty maid, who does everything to ease the difficult life of one poor isekai. However, to be fair, with each new level gained and knowledge acquired got a little easier.

At level three, Kirill took "Intensive Development II", which didn't directly make life easier, but did speed up the gain of experience.

On the fourth, he upgraded from “basic basics of magical dueling techniques with combat wands” to “advanced basics of magical dueling techniques with combat wands”. This had already noticeably helped him at the training ground. The magic wand had not yet become an extension of the hand, but the known grip, techniques, and stances had been honed even more, plus a few new ones had been added. The speed and accuracy of creating weaves with magic wands have also improved. It became easier to hold already formed weaves and afterward to direct them in the desired direction. And also slightly, but it was still noticeable, that his reactions increased. Now he could see his opponents a little faster, and react to them a little faster.

At the fifth level, Cyril upgraded from “basic skills of creating the basics of magic weaves” to “advanced skills of creating the basics of magic weaves”. This knowledge did not greatly expand the arsenal of spells known to Cyril, but, if one could say so, deepened the knowledge of the existing ones. Not dramatically, but it was noticeable nonetheless. He seriously suspected that this increase was equivalent to not a whole year of study and training of ordinary local gifted. Well, at least half a year for sure. This knowledge was especially effective when combined with the previous one. The same magical arrows he could now create in different variants without much difficulty. Strengthened, accelerated, group - and all at a level as if he had honed this skill long and hard. And with the magic wand, it was even easier!

It was a little sad, of course, that he had not added any new spells but, as he understood from the System Help, in order to acquire them, one should either take specialized abilities, such as “basic fire magic weaves”, or bring the basics of magic weaves to advanced or developed magic weaves. The second option seemed preferable to Cyril, as he did not want to go deep into any one element. Partly because the same help stated: when taking and developing knowledge of fire magic will involuntarily acquire an affinity with this element. That would automatically complicate the mastery of water spells. But, judging by the same reference, it was possible to increase the available knowledge only up to a certain limit, depending on the available characteristics. To pump fifteen talent points into one branch at once and become a Lord Phoenix at the sixteenth level would not work. It's a pity...

At the sixth level, after some thought and advice from his mentor and the Elder Enchantress, Cyril upgraded his “Basic skills of working with external energy sources” to “Advanced skills of working with external energy sources”. This knowledge did not increase his efficiency during the training, but it did speed up the recovery process during the short breaks between them. Diantrel still strictly monitored Cyril's use of external sources of energy. energy while recuperating. Usually, she allowed him to recover no more than half of his reserve with the small crystal storage units she brought to training. The energy in them was as neutral as possible, literally distilled to be absorbed with minimal risk by any recipients. She did not change this rule even after he had acquired new knowledge. But now Cyril absorbed foreign accumulated energy more easily and quickly, and better understood how much of it to take so that it would not harm him and would be assimilated as efficiently as possible. And he understood better how to work safely with natural or artificial energy sources.

Of course, it was better to restore his strength with his own energy, but Cyril had no opportunity to accumulate at least some of it. The reserve that he had gathered in the ill-fated ring, almost killing himself, was completely used up by the middle of the third day of training. And there was no opportunity to renew it. Because the entire reserve was spent on training almost to the bottom!

At the seventh level Cyril could not resist, and once again increased dueling with magic wands. Although, he had originally planned to increase his knowledge of working with artifacts and amulets. As a result, he received “advanced basics of techniques of magical dueling with battle wands”, which was the maximum at his current characteristics. Now that was already solid, especially when compared to the basic level! The magic wand still didn't become an extension of his arm, but it was one step closer. After internalizing the knowledge, the previous skills were further honed. The understanding of how best to act in a given situation during battle increased. How best to strike back. How best to deflect or block an attack.

His reaction speed increased as well. Cyril could now naturally snatch the wand from its holster in one sharp movement, simultaneously form an attacking or defensive weave, aim it, and strike. The next morning after learning the knowledge he demonstrated it to his mentor on several different targets. After hitting three dummy opponents in less than two seconds, and then knocking down a small flock of flyers, Cyril couldn't resist and deftly twisted the wand between his fingers several times like a cowboy revolver, and then put it away in a holster on his belt in one fine-tuned movement.

Diantrel was very pleased with what she saw. She immediately made the training even more difficult, almost completely negating the advantage Cyril had gained. For, as she rightly pointed out, otherwise their effectiveness would drop. And therefore, the inflow of experience would also decrease. It was impossible to argue with that, but damn, He wanted to be OP! Even if it was local bots, but still! You get some kind of automatic level-up mobs, as if in some Oblivion!

At the eighth level, when the experience gain slowed down a bit, despite his mentor's efforts, Cyril advanced “Intensive Development I” to the second level, once again increasing the rate of its arrival. This allowed him to reach level nine the next day, albeit at the cost of tremendous effort. However, that day his mentor almost carried him out of the fifth training ground in her arms, handing him over to Fiorel, who was waiting at the entrance. And if she had not announced to him that she was very pleased with the results of his training and that tomorrow he would have a day off, Cyril would have assigned it to himself. But even here the mentor remained true to herself, saying that he should spend it to his advantage, and save as much of his energy as possible in the rings given to him. Cyril, who wanted more than anything to get to bed and fall into any dream, even the strangest or most frightening one, agreed to everything and did not even think of arguing.

Finally, Fiorel got him to his chambers without letting him fall unconscious or break his neck on the stairs. It would have been a truly epic failure of a finale to his second stay in this world. There Cyril was met by Gata and Armina, who four-handedly dragged him first to the bath and the bed. There was no more strength for anything, and the young man immediately fell into sleep. In his dream, he was running around the same, already hateful, the fifth range. And he was being chased by hordes of zombie-hasks with blue LEDs in their eyes and shouted in the voice of the Harbinger that “IT'S HIS Fault!”. It was impossible to understand what Cyril had done in front of the Reapers. Moreover, he even clearly realized that HE was not to blame for the Reapers' troubles, but the Harbinger would not listen. The Huskies were advancing, despite the streams of magic Cyril was unleashing on them, they had him cornered and...

When he opened his eyes the young man stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. And then, still sleep-deprived, Cyril almost immediately forgot the delirious dream and simply rolled over on his other side, making himself comfortable. Gata lying next to him, purred sleepily as he pulled her close and burrowed his face into the sleepy cat girl's chest. He didn't want to get out of the warm, soft bed and the embrace of a maid who was just as warm, fluffy, and incredibly pleasant. He stayed in bed until Gata and Armina woke up and persuaded him to get out of bed at least to eat. At first, Cyril still didn't want to get out of it and even asked the maids to serve food there. But Armina gave him a very convincing argument as to why he should not eat in bed.

And Cyril fully appreciated her arguments. It was better to lick honey from the naked breasts of a pretty girl sitting naked on the table than from the one sitting in bed with you. Despite the fact the size of the blonde maid was inferior to the cat lady, it did not interfere with the enjoyment of the process. Cyril diligently licked up every drop she dropped on her breasts, biting her hardened nipples and teasing them with his tongue. Armina laughed quietly and then loudly, remembering to change the sweets. After honey there was cherry jam, and then some berry syrup.

Cyril snacked on fruit, which was served to him by Gata, who sat next to him, keeping it in her mouth. Sometimes the whole thing, so that the process turned into a kiss. At some point, the girls switched places, and cat girl generously poured condensed milk over her breasts. She looked so incredibly seductive and so arousing that it was impossible to resist, even if Cyril wanted to. And he didn't.

This variant of early lunch or late breakfast lasted for quite a long time and ended naturally in the bathhouse, where the three of them washed themselves. Cyril was a little surprised that Gata was not afraid of the water at all and bathed willingly. She only snorted and said it was a silly stereotype, that all cat folks were afraid of water like ordinary cats. She loves to bathe. Moreover, it is obligatory for her, as her fluffy tail requires careful and regular care.

And while she was soaping it, Armina was soaping and washing Cyril. Having properly cleaned him from the slightest traces of an unusual meal, the smiling girl laid the young man on the massage table and fully demonstrated her skills to him. The erotic massage ended with coitus right on the same table. The maid's oiled skin was incredibly pleasant to both touch and taste. While he slid his palms over her body, Armina settled on Cyril and began to move her hips leisurely, gradually increasing the pace. In the end, after the massage, they had to rinse themselves once more. But Kirill came out of his bath on the seventh heaven of bliss, in the arms of no less satisfied maids. It was only when he entered the bedroom and saw the artifacts that he remembered his Mentor's task.

He had to urgently interrupt his love games and do magic. If he had already learned the “basic fundamentals of tantric energy recovery techniques” at that moment, the weekend would have been much more productive, but alas, this knowledge came to him only a few days later. And on his first day off, he was just beginning to experiment with energy fusion. As a result, Cyril, alternating pleasant pastime with meditation to restore energy, and sometimes managing to combine them, managed to accumulate almost four full reserves in his rings by the end of the day, about two in each. On the one hand, he was exhausted physically and energetically, but on the other hand, he felt perfectly rested psychologically. Just before he went to sleep, he invested a free talent point for level nine and upgraded ++'advanced magic weave foundation skills' to 'advanced magic weave foundation skills'.

This further broadened and deepened the understanding of the available spells, as well as increased their variation. For example, Cyril even at the basic level knew how to create a simple signal thread, which was one of the simplest and most common ways of magical protection and signaling. But now he understood how to create a full-fledged signaling web, how to make some threads thinner and invisible, and which ones thicker and brighter to distract attention from the first. I knew how to customize it so it worked only on certain types of stimuli. How to properly close and “stretch” this web, so there was no slack, which could allow intruders to bypass the protection without disturbing it.

And such deepening of knowledge touched all the weaves available in his arsenal. That's why Cyril met the new day full of strength, with a reserve of energy and determination to conquer the cursed fifth polygon again and again! But as it turned out, his mentor had other plans. Fiorel took him instead of the fifth polygon to one of the inner rooms of the palace, intended for magical practice. The spacious rectangular room was lined with powerful marble slabs. In them, one could easily feel very powerful magic. Cyril easily recognized the charms designed to absorb and disperse spells. Clearly, the equivalent of a gym for the gifted.

Diantrel was already waiting for them there. When she met her apprentice, she listened attentively to Cyril's report on his promotion and told him in a very serious voice that she was very impressed with his results. In a week he had managed to achieve with the Tablet what ordinary students spend years of their lives to achieve. And without guarantees of such a result because the knowledge granted by the Tablet was fully assimilated by Cyril.

But in order not to make his training one-sided, and not to reduce the flow of experience by monotonous training, they will spend the next week on ritual magic. They will begin by selecting an appropriate instrument for Cyril. That is a staff. If for close combat on the front line and at short distances magical wands were better suited, for working at long distances and in the ritual circle staff was preferable. As in the first time, Diantrel offered Cyril a choice of almost two dozen staff made of different types of wood. And even a few from the bones of some huge beasts. And one of them felt solid, not composite as if it had been carved from one giant bone of some incredible beast. However, the resonance with it was high, but not maximum. Just like the first time, Cyril tried all the variants, and the best result showed the staff made of the same light wood as the wand as expected.

It took some time to get used to the staff. Thanks to the “Basics of working with basic amulets and artifacts”, Cyril had a general idea of how to use a magic staff. But the sample given to him did not fall under the definition of “basic”. This staff was, at the very least, of master level. It was simultaneously a resonator, a concentrator, an amplifier, and a spell guide. In addition, Cyril sensed in it what could be called spell cells. The staff, like the wand, could be filled with a ready-made weave in advance and then activated with minimal effort. But unlike the latter, it could store a lot more of them. And they could be not only simple spells in their structure but also quite complex ones, including complex variants of weaves. Diantrel was explaining and showing Cyril all this while he was slowly and carefully familiarizing himself with his new staff.

As the mentor explained, strong and skillful gifted people, from the level of Master of Magic on up, usually have a few different spells on hand at all times. The most common set found in many different variations is a trio of spells, one for defense, offense, and escape. And later on, they'll be sure to work on picking out and putting the spells that suit him into Cyril's staff. But first, it needs to be tried out and gotten used to.

When Cyril was more or less done with the staff, Diantrel moved on to the next stage and gave him a detailed briefing on the basics of working in a ritual circle. After ensuring Cyril understood everything, she took him to a pre-prepared one of the simplest ritual circles in the form of a pentagram. It was carved directly on the floor, on the surface of one of the particularly large and powerful marble slabs. When Cyril took a place in its center, the mentor took a pouch with some red crystalline powder and carefully poured it out, filling all the furrows evenly. Standing next to her student, she explained what was required of him, ensured he understood everything correctly, and only then gave the go-ahead to begin. Concentrating, Cyril carefully formed a new weave for himself, and then applied it to the pentagram with red powder, using it as a base.

The weave and the pentagram were perfectly aligned, instantly forming a functioning ritual circle. The powder flashed a bright red light and began to feed the weave, visibly strengthening it. Cyril felt that he could relatively easily direct this power at will, and use it as a support for his weaves, both attacking and defensive. But at the same time he also clearly felt that the powder was gradually burning, and the more he used the circle, the sooner it would need to be renewed. Satisfied with the results, Diantrel continued her instruction, warning Cyril again not to try to do anything on his own. And there was a good reason for that. The staff, like the battle staff, was a resonator, concentrator, and amplifier of Cyril's energy. Only more powerful due to its increased size. In combination with the ritual circle, we were talking about an order-of-magnitude increase in power!

The ritual circle in addition to strengthening the weaves, also reduced the loss of energy during their formation and application, not allowing it to dissipate into the surrounding space, but locking it inside itself, which allowed the owner to reuse it. Diantrel explained all of this to Cyril several times. Only then order him to form a regular magical arrow and hit the target mounted on the far wall of the room. Emphasizing he should put no more than a third of the standard energy into it. Which Cyril did. The result was very impressive! The formed weave entered into resonance with the staff and the energy of the ritual circle, strengthening the magic arrow as if not four times! As a result, instead of a weakened version of an ordinary arrow, a full-fledged version of a strengthened arrow came off the tip of the staff with a sharp whistle. The target mounted on the wall in the form of a solid enchanted wooden circle shattered into small smoking splinters when it hit exactly in the center.

Having allowed Cyril a little more practice in such shooting and getting used to the new tool, Diantrel continued her explanations. From her words, it seemed that the right ritual circle not only strengthened the wizard's weaves but also served as an excellent basis for them. It allowed us to direct them more precisely and to form them faster. Just like in a staff, ready weaves could be put in advance into the appropriate elements and knots of the ritual circle to activate them with minimal effort. A good ritual circle was a very versatile tool. It could serve as a basis for any type of weave. Attack, defense, search, analytical, healing - it all depended on the owner's desire, his skills, and the materials used.

Being in the center of a good ritual circle, a master of magic could confidently protect himself and others, projecting protection at a distance. And not just to withstand attacks, but to reflect them back, to deflect them on pre-prepared energy “blanks” and much more. The same went for attack spells. In order to rain fire and lightning down on the heads of enemies, being several kilometers away from them, safe and protected by allies, a good ritual circle was indispensable. Especially if it was located on top of a high-quality magic tower.

Of course, all of the above required a much more complex type of circle than a simple pentagram. And a much more powerful base material than the powder of a relatively common in the Underworld crystal, pre-infused with magic and then ground. But even the simplest pentagram was capable if used correctly, to strengthen its owner. A wizard in a prepared ritual circle and a wizard without it, even with equal power, are two completely different wizards. Therefore, all strong and skillful wizards always try to have a ritual circle prepared for themselves in one form or another. There are exceptions, of course, but they are exceptions. In many gifted families, such ritual circles serve their owners for generations, gradually becoming more complex, evolving, and strengthening with each new owner. Combined with a source of magic, such a ritual circle could turn even a peasant's hovel into a serious fortress.

And if we take into account that there are no such circles in shacks, and all of them are either in towers, castles, mansions, or palaces which are already well protected and fortified, we can easily imagine how problematic it is to take such a place by direct assault. Especially if one uses practices tied to one particular territory, which becomes stronger with every year lived in it. In such a case, there are usually no direct assaults at all, you have to use more subtle methods to achieve your goals. Although, as the mentor said, in the history of this world, all sorts of things have happened. Especially in times of really big and serious wars.

Summarizing all of the above, it was not difficult to understand that the presence of such an advantage as a well-prepared ritual circle could decide the outcome of the battle. Even a clear field with it will turn into a powerful fortification, able to repel an onslaught and withstand a siege. However, the ritual circle has significant limitations. With very rare exceptions, it cannot be dragged behind you. Because of this, many powerful wizards are somewhat homebodies, who do not like to leave their towers, palaces, or mansions. However, Diantrel did mention there were examples of very powerful gifted ones who carried special levitating platforms with mobile ritual circles behind them. But these were rare exotics, not common practice.

However, the cases when a ritual circle is needed right here and now, in the middle of unprepared terrain, are much more common than one would like. Many different things can happen during military campaigns, trading, or research expeditions. That means that a good wizard should be able to create such a circle, even the simplest one, quickly, correctly, and in any conditions. And that's exactly what they will do for the rest of the day.

Of course, Diantrel didn't make Cyril draw anything with his hands. If only because it was long and unproductive in terms of accuracy. Instead, under her guidance, he spent several hours honing the forming weave, the basis for the creation of the ritual circle. From the outside, it looked like Cyril was lightly tapping the tip of his staff on the marble floor slabs, and around him, lines flashed on them to form a ritual circle of the desired shape. A pentagram, a few concentric circles, a double circle, and a few other relatively simple variations. These lines, in theory, could act as a circle themselves, but in that case, they had to be energized by expending his reserve, or the reserve of the accumulators. It was much more efficient to use them as a base. And the direct material-fuel had to be some magically active reagent. As a rule, all sorts of powders were used for this purpose, but in general, there were a great number of suitable options. Liquids, scatterings of small or medium-sized stones, tree branches, bones, ropes of hair or herbs - the choice was huge.

In their case, Cyril used the crystal powder given by Diantrel. And thanks to the already available knowledge and skills, by the middle of the day he was able to form the base of the circle with the help of weaving, and then he poured it out. Without using his hands. He simply levitated the bag of powder over the outlined lines, which ensured the evenness of the powdering. After evaluating the result, Diantrel praised him and gave him permission for further exercises. Cyril spent the rest of the day practicing with the simplest weaves, under the watchful eye of his mentor. He created various protective barriers, using a circle as a support. He hit the targets hanging on the walls with magic arrows, gradually increasing the energy invested. At the same time getting more and more familiar with the new staff. The staff, unlike the wand, was heavier in all senses, and because of that, it was still unfamiliar.

At the very end of the first day of new exercises, Cyril had already acquired new knowledge. The basic basics of creating and using ritual circles were added surprisingly easily, quickly and almost painlessly assimilated right in the training room. In this played a role as the already available basis, and the explanations of a very sensible personal mentor, all very clear and detailed showed and told him. Cyril even once asked Diantrel how much her services as a teacher cost? The elven woman smiled strangely and answered Cyril didn't have to worry about that. All the costs of his education were borne by the Forest. But she, still with the same strange expression on her face mentioned the queue for her personal training is scheduled for almost a century in advance. And some of the potential apprentices, for one reason or another, had resold their places to others for sums comparable to the cost of a small baronial estate. Next to some big city, like the same Morgrave, and a couple or three medium-sized villages with peasants. Or rather, that line was scheduled.

After these words, were said quite calmly and mundanely, for some reason, Cyril somehow became sharply uncomfortable. He didn't even know why. Not from the fact that the image of the legendary Scrooge-McDuck appeared in his mind, only with pointed ears and in elven luxurious robes, from whom the disgustingly giggling and equally disgusting-looking goblins were literally fighting to take away the gold from the pool for Cyril's education. For some reason also dressed in elven and obviously very luxurious outfits. No, definitely not because of that, it's all just imagination!

As a result, the first day of the second week of training was incredibly easy compared to the previous week. Cyril spent almost no reserve and was not tired at all. However, they also gave him relatively little experience, but Cyril was determined to reach the cherished tenth level tomorrow! Two points of characteristics, one free, and the second guaranteed to “Source” beckoned and called him, promising to become another small step to the heights of magic, his own tower, an optional harem. After all, was he an isekai or what?

But the very next day, there was little left of vigor and fighting spirit because Diantrel, having made sure Cyril had quite understood the basics of creation and application of ritual circles started to practice again. At the same fifth polygon, that he was sure to have nightmares about. There was already waiting for him a small ground prepared in the very center consumables, in the form of powders and crystals-storage, and a satisfied mentor. Under her supervision, Cyril first strengthened the ground under his feet with a barrier-type weave then drew a classic pentagram of medium size on it. It was about two meters in diameter. Placing the storage crystals at the tips of the star's rays and dusting all the lines with powder, he carefully formed the weave and activated the circle. It didn't take much time, and he didn't make any mistakes.

The mentor discreetly praised Cyril and left the range, taking her usual place on the observation platform. And then the unfortunate young man was once again bombarded by crowds of already familiar enemies. Only now they were much more numerous! And they attacked more actively, raining down a hail of magic arrows on Cyril. But the defense he created on the basis of the ritual circle was very strong compared to his own shields or protective amulets. When he was sure of that, Cyril struck back, too much force being put into the attack. He had been practicing with his wand before and it required less energy.

As a result, the first magical arrow turned into a natural laser beam of blinding white light, piercing through one of the humanoid wooden golems as well as the wooden wall behind it knocking a huge hole in the earth mound behind it. But without damaging the other two opponents standing a meter on either side of him. After adjusting his efforts, Cyril began to hit his opponents with passion, using different variants of attack. And it must be said that with the staff and the ritual circle, which generously nourished and strengthened him, it was very good! The target enemies were blown into small splinters by Cyril's point or area attacks. He didn't even notice the moment when the enemies ran out, instead of them there was only smoking debris. The fifth range was also noticeably damaged, many walls and embankments were broken.

And Cyril's reserve was only down by a little less than a quarter! However, the powder-fuel for the circle was almost all burned out, and the storage crystals at the tips of the beams were also almost completely emptied. The mentor watching Cyril, also discreetly praised him and announced a short break. During this time, the range had somehow imperceptibly returned to its former appearance, and the debris of the targets had disappeared. Like the corpses of mobs in some old game. In response to Cyril's question, the mentor, without going into details, answered that the entire polygon was one very complex complex at the intersection of Druidism, Artifacting, and Classical magic. There was a reason why all the targets were made of wood. Once destroyed, they almost immediately rot, turn to ashes, and form again.

From these words, for some reason, Elfo-Scroogeau-McDuck, weeping over a mountain of gold, reappeared in the young man's mind. But this, as well as other extraneous thoughts, Diantrel quickly knocked out of his head with a new race. Until the evening, Cyril continued to practice shooting enemies from his ritual circle, periodically renewing and energizing it. They attacked him individually, in groups, from different sides, tried to sneak up unnoticed using camouflage, hit with concentrated blows and volleys from sides, trying his defenses for strength. It was necessary not to stand stupidly in the center of the circle, but to twirl around, constantly changing, updating, and rebuilding the defense, as well as not forgetting to hit back and look out for lurking enemies.

It was not easy, but it was bearable, thanks to the experience of the past runs with the wand. And also the knowledge he gained, thanks to which the weaves were formed faster, used less energy, and were aimed more precisely. He can really feel the progress! In the next two races, Cyril endured without problems, repelling all the attacks and destroying the enemies. Not even particularly tired. Or rather, without spending so much reserve as last time. But during the next break, Diantrel, who was watching him, smilingly told the young man that today was not really a training session, but a warm-up. It's goal was to give him a chance to get used to his new wand and to practice using it in combination with the ritual circle. The real training will be tomorrow.

Somehow those words, as well as his mentor's face made Cyril feel uncomfortable. Just a little bit. Just a little. But he did not show it in any way. Exactly! Not once! Not a single muscle in his face! And the smile grew wider on Diantrel's face simply because she was in a good mood and happy for her student, that's why! And not because of any hidden sadistic tendencies towards the poor isekai! With these thoughts, Cyril went for another run on the fifth polygon.

By the end of the training, he had completely burned out all the powder prepared by his mentor, emptied all the storage crystals, and cleaned the level four more times. In other words, he repelled all enemy attacks, killing wooden dummies of all types. The reward for his labor was the cherished tenth level, which increased with the completion of the last race for today, from which Cyril almost started dancing. Or rather, he would have, but the increase of the Source by one unit made him freeze on the spot and lean on his staff. The fire in his chest lit on the first day became a little bigger and brighter, warming Cyril from within. The reserve available to him increased, as did the speed at which it was replenished. It was a very pleasant sensation, and Cyril could hardly resist immediately investing the second characteristic point, given for reaching the tenth level, immediately into Istok. Not least because several System messages appeared in front of his eyes.

Attention! New knowledge received: "Basic principles of magic combat tactics"

Warning. “Fundamentals of Basic Amulets and Artifacts” has been upgraded to ”Fundamentals of Advanced Amulets and Artifacts”

Changes will be made to the Player status automatically!

Attention! Level 10 has been reached! For reaching the first milestone, Aurial the Magnificent, Supreme Keeper of the Balance of Worlds, Standing on Guard of the Balance of Power, grants her Chosen One two additional talent points!

Attention! Additional talent points can only be invested in acquiring one new or enhancing an existing property, or in acquiring one new or enhancing an existing meta-skill! It is impossible to invest two points in properties or meta-skills at once.

Cyril staggered back with a quiet groan, but suddenly he found Diantrel standing beside him, who had appeared inexplicably. The mentor kept him on his feet and then helped him to sit down gently on the chair she had brought him. Cyril spent some time there while the new knowledge was “downloaded” and “installed”. The increase of knowledge on the work with artifacts and amulets was assimilated relatively easily because there the already available information was only expanded and deepened, then with the tactics of magical combat was more difficult.

The acquired knowledge did not make Kirill a larva of Alexander the Great, Gaius Julius Caesar, or Mikhail Illarionovich Kutuzov. But now he understood the general aspects of how to behave during a battle with enemies, including gifted ones. What to pay attention to in the first place, how to react, where to strike, what is better to retreat from, and where and how to attack. The knowledge is more suitable for a combat mage, acting as part of an army or a separate unit, but it will not be superfluous for him either. Although, he wanted to believe that he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He is not some lone hero who has been lost in the swamps and wild forests and has to farm mobs and monsters to survive, is he?

When everything had more or less settled down in his head, Cyrill whispered cherished words for any System isekai.

"Status."

Name: Cyrill

Level: 10

Class: Wizard

Characteristics: (free) 1

Talents (free): 1 (limited): 1

Constitution: 1

Sensitivity: 2

Power: 8

Control: 5

Source: 6

Spirit: 1

Resistance: 1

Acquired Knowledge: Oral and Written: Classical Elvish, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy; “developed basics of managing and controlling internal energies”, "advanced skills of working with external energy sources", "advanced skills of creating basic magical barriers", ‘basics of working with advanced amulets and artifacts’, "advanced skills of creating basic magical weaves", ”advanced basics of magical dueling techniques with battle wands”, "basic foundations of tantric energy restoration techniques", "basic basis of creating and using ritual circles", "Basic basis of tactics of conducting a magical battle", "basic of working with advanced amulets and artifacts"

Acquired properties: “the blessing of harmonious magical development”

System Modifiers: “Issuance of System Assignments I”, "Intensive Development II"

Special: Chosen One of Aurial the Magnificent, Supreme Guardian of the Balance of Worlds, Guardian of the Balance of Powers: Hidden Effects.

Heh, what to say, not bad, not bad at all. And this was only after not even a full two weeks of training. Of course, some asshole cultivator with slanted eyes would probably have reached master level by now, mercilessly slaughtering some slimes. But no, the System Help immediately told Cyril that endlessly killing low-level opponents would not be able to gain the necessary amount of experience. At a certain point, it will simply stop giving it, and you will have to look either for stronger opponents or stop developing. Unless you take some very specific meta-skill. And it is unlikely that it will help you much.

In any case, Cyril liked the result he had achieved. However, he had a suspicion that for evaluating such a result with the words “ not bad”, many local gifted people could simply kill him on the spot. And then the corpse could be minced purely out of envy and the desire to process the minced meat in order to instill the System in themselves. Actually, one creep almost did just that!

What was more gratifying was the sudden gift from Aurial, who had apparently remembered that she had a Chosen One here. Given how long he'd been in a magical coma, it was understandable. Although geez, how did she even let him get captured in the first place? Maybe... No, don't think about it, no, no, no, no! he'd rather say thank you very, very much to the teenage elf who sent him! And wish to pay attention to it more often and not forget about it for a long time. Because when you have a whole Guardian of World Balance and Equilibrium in the Heavens as patronesses, and even owning the System, it is very reassuring! No, seriously, who in their right mind would refuse such a patron and regular signs of attention in the form of System rewards, or even personal assignments?

Cyril was brought out of his musings about omnipotent teenage patronesses by Diantrel, who had been waiting patiently beside him all this time:

"Honorable Cirial, are you all right?"

"Huh? Yes! Got the tenth level, a couple of new knowledge, and a nice bonus!"

The white-haired elf frowned in confusion:

"What do you mean?"

"Aurial, the goddess who sent me here, gave me two extra talent points. But with limitations."

Diantrel raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked at Cyril with a strange expression on her face:

"This is unexpected..."

"Yes, I even thought she had forgotten about me altogether..."

After a little more conversation with his mentor, who asked Cyril how he was feeling, the young man, tired but satisfied, left the training ground accompanied by Fiorel, who was already waiting for him. Lastly, the mentor asked her student to be restrained and not to invest all the points received at once. Because he had a training session tomorrow. Cyril assured her that he would do so. In his chambers, he celebrated the achievement of the tenth level of the System by bathing with Armina and Gata.

So he went to bed a little later than he had planned. And already in bed, in the arms of such a fluffy and pleasant cat, Cyril put the second point of characteristics into “Power”. He had made his choice a long time ago, and it was both complicated and simple. Each of the characteristics beckoned him in its own way, and there were simply no useless ones in the System he had been given. But considering the class he had taken, Cyril had made his choice in the first week. As soon as he confirmed his decision by pressing a non-existent button, another wave of heat went through his body. The fire burning in his chest did not become bigger, as in the case of Source, but it became hotter, its flames now warmed and burned stronger. The wave of this pleasant heat swept through Cyril's physical and subtle body several times. The sensations, like last time, were quite pleasant. And with these sensations, Cyril sank into a sweet sleep, holding Gata sniffling sleepily, close to him.

* * *

Whether because of the increase in characteristics, because of reaching the tenth level, or because of everything at once the dreams that night were bright, colorful, and very realistic. But at the same time, they were rambling, chaotically changing from one to another. Cyril was watching how the Collectors were desperately trying to breed a viable hybrid of a human female and a female Felis catus. And next to them stands some fat guy in an obviously small N7 armor who complains about the claimed size of tails and fluffiness of tits.

The space station on the edge of the black hole was replaced by some relatively small but well-furnished room, where a tall and very beautiful woman with dark red hair sat in a good and soft chair. She was dressed in an expensive and revealing dress of dark maroon color with a deep neckline, showing a considerable part of her high and seductive breasts. In addition to the dress, she wore a lot of obviously expensive jewelry with precious stones that glowed, surrounding the owner with several protective barriers. Putting her foot on her leg, and folding her arms over her not-so-small breasts, the woman stared intently at the teenage boy sitting on the stool in front of her. He was decently dressed, but his face looked as if he'd been out in a dark back alley with a quill yesterday looking for unfortunate passersby in the company of similarly underage candidates for recruitment to the Night Guild.

Behind the woman, as well as behind the boy, stood several strong men, armed and in armor hidden under expensive and good clothes. All of them kept their eyes on the harmless boy. Cyril did not have time to understand what the woman was talking about with an obscure chav, because the room changed to some dungeon, illuminated by burning torches. In their light slowly stepped a tall, lean, athletically built, but clearly !not old! elf, with the face of a man in his fifties. A very unkind face. The strange elf was dressed in only leather underpants and the same leather harness, and in his right hand, he clutched a long seven-tailed whip. The first-born pensioner did not inspire confidence, and Cyril was sincerely glad his attention was drawn to some guy hastily crawling away displaying a feathered tambourine in front of him from the elf advancing on him.

The poor man tried to say something, to explain that it wasn't him, that it wasn't his fault, but the young elf paid no attention to his words. With a stern face, he growled: “You thought, that YOU can play with ME, fucking SLAVE!”?” The guy responded by shouting something about how he understood and apologized, that the joke had gone too far and SHE was the best, kindest, and most wonderful, that he would never think of throwing away HER gifts again, and that he would take the next assignment he was offered and do it!

At this point, the dungeon with its creepy elf-boss disappeared, replaced by a spacious field and a deep moonlit night. It was not a field, but an old and obviously long-abandoned cemetery. At the gnarled tombstone, on which Cyril could distinguish a strange inscription “Dam and not Tresnu”, there was an open grave of considerable size. In it, in an open coffin of no less solid size, lay a woman of very distinguished height and lush forms. She had long dark hair down to her waist, perfect white skin, glowing red eyes, and a mouth with solid-sized fangs. The guy from the dungeon with the gachi-elf shoved the gag into her maw (or was it more like a mouth?) and with a couple of deft movements pushed it deep into her mouth and buckled it over the face of the raging vampire. She wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing she could do about it because her whole body was entangled in a bondage of many dark ribbons and straps that held her tightly to her arms and legs. She was wearing a pair of pretty stockings, but they looked strange on the vampire. The guy made sure the bloodsucker was safely immobilized, quietly swearing and climbing out of the grave, repeating “ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm not going to fuck her mouth, even if it's been processed three times!"

Cyril had no time to understand what he meant because the abandoned cemetery was replaced by a study, luxuriously furnished with elven furniture, where several dozen elves, including the Queen and the Elder Enchantress, familiar to him, were gathered around a wide table. All of them, with wistful faces, were looking at some blurred image of what appeared to be a kneeling man and woman. And in the background, the familiar voice of the elf boss of the dungeon and rocker could be heard, “How the hell did this SHITE happen?! Are you FUCKING kidding ME?!” Cyril didn't have time to understand why this grandpa was swearing in English because his words were drowned out by the melody of the music box.

When he opened his eyes, the young man yawned sleepily and stretched habitually running his hand over the catgirl maid snuggled against him. Okay, time to get up. He had a new day and new training ahead.

Author's Note:

So, Cyril finally started to use cat-wife provided by the Party, I mean, elves, for the intended purpose, and at the same time to pump, gaining levels!

And in the next chapters, it will continue, though not everything in his training will go as his caring guardians planned. Of course, they have everything under control, and excesses are impossible, but where has it ever happened that something goes wrong with elves?!

Except in dreams with the barefoot seductresses of Auntie Queen of the Elves, which, like other dreams, do not have to be prophetic dreams at all, but may well be just dreams.

Actually, maybe right now I'll sit down to write an update, because the idea, understanding, plot, ending, and outcome are all there, all that's left is to write it. I could not even divide the chapter into two parts, but then it would be 100 100,000+ characters, and Brinar is not Avada, after all, to manage such a thing on a regular basis.

Внимание! Этот перевод, возможно, ещё не готов.
Его статус: идёт перевод

Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/86674/581007

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP