The Dark Elf happily jumped for joy the moment he let her leave the prison. She pranced around, awfully delighted about walking freely again. Yet did not try to leave his side. She followed Luka to his tent.
"Wait outside."
"Huh!? Why can't I come inside?"
"Because I am getting changed," he paused, then beckoned her with his hand. "Unless you want to experience something fun, that is."
"Eek!"
She quickly squatted outside the tent, leaning on the leather wall.
'A shame.'
Though he couldn't fully trust her, there was no need to doubt her either.
Thanks to her Apostle title, she instinctively understood the boundaries between them, even though she couldn't see the title herself.
But she soon left his mind as he stepped into the cold, familiar room.
The faint scent of Galatea's musk and his semen lingered on atop the bedroll.
"I've truly changed."
...
Finally, alone, Luka stands silently in the darkness of his own tent, the candle long since snuffed out as he summons Oblivion.
He took a deep breath, then held it.
A hot stream of violent energy spread from his pelvis, different from divine energy, which lingered in the chest or mind. The Dark Magenta glow of Miasma spread across his flesh. This visible manifestation of Sin Energy was the same as Aura or Mana.
Miasma was the term his brothers gave it.
The colour represented a Fallen's primary sin.
Also named their Cardinal Sin.
The colours assigned flickered in the panel above Luka's eyes as he judged his to the others.
[Crimson Red - Wrath]
[Emerald - Envy]
[Dirty Gold - Greed]
[Orange - Gluttony]
[Hot Pink/Rose - Lust]
[Deep Violet - Pride]
What confused him was the lack of Wrath, but only the appearance of the Hot Pink and Deep Violet mixed to form a shade of Magenta.
'No, when I entered that form, there was a fine layer of red miasma that leaked from Oblivion.'
The more he tensed his lower body, the faster the Miasma churned and rolled into a violent sphere of countless strands.
Like a ball of yarn.
Once he stopped clenching his pelvic floor muscles, the yarn swirled gently inside his lower body. The threads of Miasma slowly seeped into his limbs until only a small fraction remained in the centre of his mass.
This vortex shifted whenever he lifted or tightened his balls.
"What a perverted power..." He complained while searching for suitable clothing.
In the end, he chose a leather tunic, a thin black gambeson, and a pair of thin, flexible but tight-fitting cloth pants that emphasised the object hidden underneath.
'Everything is strange now.'
His mood, thoughts, and desire all seemed muddled up as he stared at his face in the reflection of a brass candle holder.
Luka constantly doubted his thoughts and ideas.
So different from his past that he no longer referred to himself as an Archangel, but that didn't feel all that bad anymore.
His heart no longer stung.
'Though I cannot discard the past completely...'
His acceptance was far from complete, but the dark energies flowing between himself and Oblivion felt natural now. Maybe it was thanks to spending so much time with the four women who, in some way or another, tempted him.
"Forget these meaningless thoughts.
I am now, Luka de Babylon! Lord of the Bastion of Twilight."
[Oblivion has reached a higher synnergy with your soul!]
He shook his head, feeling Oblivion vibrating inside his palm as it suddenly transformed into a fluid state. Once his mind became clearer, it reacted to his thoughts no longer needing words and took a shape similar to Wrath.
It formed a much smaller version of the Wrath Gauntlets, covering both arms and his chest beneath his gambeson. It linked the joints with a strong yet flexible black metal, softer than rubber, that didn't stop his movements a single bit.
The raven-black armour, with a crimson sheen, formed a single curved spike from his elbows and shoulders, making him appear like a monster in the shadows.
'Though I need a weapon...'
Bzzzt!
[Oblivion has answered your call!]
A simple bastard sword of pure black grew from the mass of Oblivion, a normal sword with an extremely sharp edge.
"Now this is perfect."
With sword, armour and mind in check, he stepped outside.
...
Luka left his tent to find Luvia, Vaun, Brea, and three direwolves. He couldn't help but admire the massive black wolf the hobgoblin rode, but still loved Furia.
The big wolf snorted, turning her maw away from Vaun, who struggled to pull her black studded leash with a tired face.
However, the moment Luvia came closer, the wolf made a soft noise. It seemed she liked the dark elf as the huge wolf nuzzled her cheek. Beside her, Brea sat atop a battle-scarred wolf, another female who acted wary of the black wolf.
"Eh, are all the wolves female?"
Brea cocked her head to the side and snorted much like the black wolf. The two women were so similar that it made him want to burst into laughter.
"The male wolves are delicate, and normally remain home at the den, though these wolves are monsters and choose their mate carefully."
This information stunned Luka, who had never thought to ask before.
'So they were all women?'
He shook his head and glanced amongst the party he gathered, an archer, an assassin, and a crazy templar. "So, we all know the plan for tonight, right?"
"To hunt goblins to improve your feeble body?"
"To kill goblins to feed this cute girl?"
"To assist you, My lord!"
The two women gave Vaun a dirty look, but he remained smiling and even waved at Luka.
"Good, then..." He glanced at the wolves, wishing Furia could be his mount again... the sleek black of her coat so soft and comfortable.
"Hm?"
"Grrrrrr!"
Luka unconsciously stroked the massive wolf's chest, her big golden eyes peering down at him with an aggressive growl.
"What are you growling at?" He snarled, holding Oblivion to the wolf's throat.
The black wolf grew more aggressive, lowering her body and baring her huge canines as she snarled.
However, Luka just pointed at her nose and shouted.
"I will mount you, wolf."
"Wuuuu!" she suddenly howled back at Luka with a higher, strange tone.
Oblivious to the wolf's clear human-like reaction to his words, he places his hand on her cheek and clenches his pelvic floor so tight his round jewels lifted two inches.
A three-metre tide of Dark Magenta enveloped the wolf's body.
"Do not test me, I shall never allow you to be hurt and will treat you with respect and affection until the day we both fall."
The wolf's growl became softer, more submissive, the more he stroked her snout and neck. Until eventually her eyes narrow further and further. His hand stopped the moment he gained a strange title and skill.
[Congratulations! You have Tamed the Black Direwolf Mutant!]
[Gained Title: Silver Fingers - Improves Dexterity by 2]
[Gained Skill: Silver Fingers (Level 1) - When touching a female, you have a 10% chance of doubling the sensation of touch, regardless of nature]
His eyes shook at the sudden messages, almost wanting to scream at his father about how easy this damn system started giving titles out this time.
But, he couldn't afford to do that.
"What's wrong?" Luvia asked with a curious glance at his face.
"Nothing, let's go."
He leapt onto the back of the wolf, wondering what to call her as Luvia appeared beside him without noise. The large body of the stunning lupine beast held them both with ease as she leapt from the yard and rushed toward the west without a second thought.
The wind blew through his hair as Luvia sat down in silence with her legs crossed and both hands forming circles at her knees.
"What're you doing?"
"I'm preparing my skills; I cannot enter stealth without doing this."
'Preparing skills... Ah! I forgot that mortals need to do this, there is a limit to their abilities and the number of times they can perform them a day...'
It suddenly occurred to him that he should use some of his knowledge of the future events to become stronger.
Though the timeline would change rapidly, his father could handle it!
"Let me teach you something, Woman."
"E-Eh?!"
Luka knelt between her legs and then tapped her forehead.
'She's going to become mine anyway, so let's teach her the truth...'
He would impart knowledge through their link.
'Skills have nothing to do with prayer, belief in some mysterious being or the laws and lifestyle you have chosen.'
'They are nothing but tools, motions and actions.'
'All the control lies in your mind.'
'Think of what Stealth means, what is your aim, and why do you seek to use it?'
Luvia didn't interrupt him.
The moment their foreheads touched a light flashed rapidly in the depths of her eyes as countles shards of information flooded her soul.
'The truth for why you can only use them a certain number has nothing to do with god, your master, your beliefs, but your body and its limits! When your stamina is low, your activation fails; when your energy isn't enough, it also fails.'
'There is no need for some strange ritual.'
'Focus on becoming invisible.
Hide from your greatest fear, sneak up on your enemy to take their life!
Conceal your sound, mask your scent, obscure even the beat of your racing heart!'
This is the essence ofStealth!'
Luka wouldn't have gone to this effort for anyone else so easily, but Luvia was special, even if he tried to deny it.
His father clearly had a plan; whether he agreed was another thing.
Nevertheless, after she became his apostle, her energy increased, and she was on the brink of transforming into a fallen. So she could use her emotions to fuel her sinful desires and the Miasma in her body.
To his surprise, her Miasma flickered with a pale green light.