Chapter 718: Ishtar, Ereshkigal, Medusa, and the Tsundere Joan of Arc Alter!
It was utterly, completely satisfying.
Ren stood in the center of the opulent hallway, stretching his arms high above his head. A refreshing sensation washed over him, vibrating through every muscle fiber. It felt as though his mind, body, and soul had been thoroughly cleansed, scrubbed raw, and polished to a shine.
Every corner of the Einzbern Castle—from the frozen courtyards to the warmest master bedrooms—had been explored, conquered, and marked by his presence.
He adjusted his collar and strolled leisurely into the main living room. The fireplace crackled softly, casting a warm orange glow over the two figures sprawled unceremoniously on the grand velvet sofa.
They bore a striking resemblance to Tohsaka Rin. In fact, physically, they were identical to the young magus, save for the hair color and the divine aura radiating from them.
One possessed flowing black hair, identical to the host body. The other, shimmering like wheat in the sun, had golden blonde hair.
Hearing his rhythmic footsteps approaching, they struggled to lift their heads.
"Tsk... don't tell me..."
The golden-haired beauty, Ereshkigal, grimaced. Her usually elegant features were twisted in a mix of exhaustion and mild terror. Her red eyes, usually so sharp, were now hazy and unfocused.
"It's not our turn again, is it? Please, have mercy..."
"I'm tired. I can't move a single finger. I officially declare bankruptcy on stamina. You do as you please."
The black-haired one, Ishtar, simply gave up. She spread her legs and lay completely flat, staring at the crystal chandelier with a look of utter resignation.
Ren couldn't help but smile at the sight of these two defeated deities.
Ishtar. The Goddess of Beauty, Harvest, and War from Mesopotamian mythology. The Mistress of Heaven who rode the Boat of Heaven, Maanna.
Ereshkigal. The indigenous Mesopotamian deity, the Mistress of the Underworld, and the absolute Dominator of death and spirits.
They were sisters, two sides of the same coin, both Earth Mother Goddesses of the Age of Gods. Yet, here they were, reduced to trembling heaps of beautiful flesh.
He had summoned them from the Throne of Heroes and bound them to Rin's Saint Graph using the Chat Group's authority. It was to satisfy his own little wicked hobby—the desire to conquer the divine—and he had succeeded beyond measure.
"Although they are goddesses," Ren mused, sweeping his gaze over their flushed skin, "their endurance in this particular arena is unexpectedly weak."
Seeing them truly exhausted, their chests heaving with the effort to simply breathe, Ren smiled faintly.
"Still want to continue? Or perhaps admit defeat?"
"..."
The two goddesses flinched.
"Haha, relax. I'm going back now."
"Going... back?!"
The reaction was instantaneous. Both Ishtar and Ereshkigal shot up from the sofa, ignoring their soreness. A hint of reluctance and panic flashed in their eyes.
There was nothing they could do. That guy's presence—and his overwhelming 'love'—had conquered them like a potent, addictive poison. They complained about the intensity, but the thought of him leaving was worse.
Ishtar pouted, crossing her arms to hide the fact that her hands were trembling. "Aren't you going to say goodbye to them properly?"
"Haven't I given enough parting gifts?" Ren playfully glanced downwards at her abdomen, raising an eyebrow. "I filled the treasury to the brim, didn't I?"
"Uh..."
Boom.
Both Ishtar and Ereshkigal's faces exploded into shades of crimson that rivaled a Command Spell.
They could still feel it. The warmth. The fullness. It was still flowing even now, a constant reminder of his dominance.
"This amount of parting gift..." Ereshkigal whispered, burying her face in a pillow. "It is indeed... a bit too much for a goddess to handle."
Presumably, Sakura and the others were in a similar state of blissful coma elsewhere in the castle.
"Rin and the others are in your care," Ren said, his tone shifting to one of gentle authority. "And you too, Medusa."
As he spoke, a figure emerged silently from the shadows behind the sofa.
She moved with the grace of a serpent. Dressed in tight black pants and thigh-high boots that accentuated her endless legs, she possessed an alluring, mystical aura.
With a swish of her smooth, floor-length purple hair, the beautiful woman stepped forward and embraced him from behind. Her arms wrapped tight around his waist, pressing her magnificent curves against his back.
"Thank you, Ren..."
Her voice was a husky whisper, filled with reverence.
Ren had severed her tragic past. He had removed the label of 'Monster' and given her a new life as a woman, not a beast. Medusa had wholeheartedly pledged all her loyalty—body, mind, and soul—to him.
Ren turned around, cupping her face. His fingers traced the edges of her beautiful, square-framed glasses before gently lifting them.
He gazed into her mystic purple eyes—the Cybele that could turn men to stone. But to him, they were just jewels.
"You are beautiful without the blindfold, Medusa. Never hide them from me."
"Yes... I will only show them to you," she murmured, leaning into his touch like a contented cat.
"Sakura is in your care while I'm gone."
"I will protect her with my life."
"Haha."
Ren chuckled. Whether they actually needed protection was debatable. Given the power he had shared with them, Sakura, Rin, and the others could probably level a small country if they threw a tantrum. The main reason for leaving Medusa and the goddesses was simply to provide companionship so they wouldn't be bored.
"Ria. We should go."
Ren called out to the side.
Kiana had already left, satisfied and glowing, dragging a complaining Silver Wolf back to their respective worlds. Silver Wolf had tried to sneak away earlier to play games, but Ren had caught her. Next time, he'd make sure the little hacker couldn't escape the bed so easily.
Now, only he and Artoria were left to return to the Main World.
"Mm."
A soft, stoic response came from the doorway.
Artoria, clutching the back of her blue skirt with a slightly trembling hand, walked over. Her steps were small, slow, and deliberate, as if she were walking on ice.
Her emerald gaze was deep, but there was a flicker of annoyance swirling within.
'Those other selves...' Artoria thought, gritting her teeth. 'They are truly hateful.'
Lancer Artoria (The Lion King). Saber Alter. Even the youthful Artoria Lily.
They existed within her spiritual origin, and they could have manifested separately. But no. They all chose to use her main body as a vessel to experience Ren's favor.
They switched control at the peak of pleasure, enjoying the sensation, but leaving the physical toll solely on her.
"It was equivalent to enduring the stamina of four distinct Artorias..." she muttered under her breath, rubbing her sore hips. "Cowards."
"Hey! Wait a minute! What about me?!"
Suddenly, a screech tore through the sentimental atmosphere.
"Did you forget someone?!!! You bastard!"
A figure with pale, almost translucent skin and platinum-white hair stormed out of the guest room. Her golden eyes were burning with indignation.
Joan of Arc Alter—the Avenger.
She had been waiting by the door for a full ten minutes, posing coolly, expecting Ren to call her name. But he had completely ignored her existence!
She scratched her head in frustration, her ahoge twitching violently.
"You're not going to just use me like a rag and then not acknowledge me, are you?! After everything we did?!"
"..."
The room went silent.
It was better if this woman didn't speak. She had the face of a saint but the mouth of a sailor.
Ren laughed in anger, stepping forward to flick her forehead.
"How dare you say that? Do you have any idea how dangerous you are? Have you ever seen someone bite that hard during the climax?"
If he were an ordinary Master with no physical buffs, that bite would probably have severed his bloodline permanently.
"Uh..."
Jalter shrank back, her aggression instantly deflating. Her pale face flushed a deep crimson.
But she was an Avenger. She couldn't admit defeat. She glared back, feigning anger.
"It... It's not my fault! You're the one who suddenly shoved... that... into my mouth! It scared me, okay?!"
She stomped her foot.
"I don't understand! Who designed this body?! It was born from a Saintess, so why does it have such weird reflexes?! It's clearly the original Joan's fault, not mine!"
Anyway, logic dictated: If it wasn't Ren's fault, it was Saint Joan's fault. It had absolutely nothing to do with the innocent Joan of Arc Alter!
"Heh."
Ren shook his head, amused by her mental gymnastics. "I don't need to say goodbye to you, Jalter."
"W-Why?"
Jalter's eyes widened in genuine disbelief. A crack appeared in her tough facade.
"Why can't I be the one? You... you were clearly happy with me, weren't you? Was my technique that bad?"
She didn't understand. They had spent hours entangling their souls and bodies. Did she not even deserve a farewell? Was she just a disposable dream?
Ren's expression turned strange as he watched the feared Dragon Witch verge on tears.
"You misunderstood, idiot."
He reached out, smoothing her messy white hair.
"You go back to the Throne of Heroes. Unlike the others who are bound to this world, you are bound to me. I might summon you to my side at any time. Tonight, tomorrow morning, whenever."
He smirked. "So, what is there to say goodbye about? We'll likely see each other before you can even miss me."
"Ah?"
Jalter blinked. Her brain processed the information sluggishly.
So... that's how it was? He wasn't abandoning her? He was literally keeping her on speed dial?
"..."
Jalter suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment crash over her.
Wait. Then, just now... didn't she act like an abandoned puppy? Whining and barking for attention?
How embarrassing!!!
Steam practically erupted from her ears. She wanted to burn the world down just to hide her blush.
Even though her toes were already curling inside her boots from the shame, Jalter forced herself to stand tall. She crossed her arms, stuck her nose in the air, and let out a haughty snort.
"Hmph! ~Don't think you can just play with me whenever you want! I am the Dragon Witch!"
She glared at him, though her eyes were watery.
"Next time you summon me, you'd better be prepared! I won't go easy on you! You'll see!"
"..."
That tsundere look was textbook perfection.
However, she hadn't noticed that in her agitation, her posture had shifted, and she was clearly trembling. Her mouth was tough, but her body was honest—it was already craving him again.
Ren decided not to tease her anymore. If he pushed her too far, she might actually incinerate the castle out of embarrassment.
"Next time, I hope you don't beg for mercy so quickly," he said with a half-smile, turning to the portal.
"???"
"Who begged for mercy?!!! I was just letting you win!!"
Jalter screamed at his retreating back, still being stubborn to the bitter end. But Ren had already stepped through the void, her protests fading into the distance.
"We're back."
The scenery shifted instantly.
From the cold, gothic stone of the Einzbern Castle to the warm, modern interior of his home in the Main World.
He had essentially just walked out of one den of women and immediately entered another.
In the living room, Yukinoshita Yukino, Yuigahama Yui, and the others were waiting. Seeing him return, they immediately surrounded him, asking where he had been and why he smelled like foreign perfume.
Ren didn't bother explaining with words. He simply established a mental link and shared his recent memories with them directly.
Flash.
Images of Ishtar, Ereshkigal, Medusa, and the chaotic battle with Jalter flooded their minds.
"..."
Silence.
When they saw Ren having an unbridled, debaucherous party in another world while they were worrying about him, their reactions were mixed.
Yukino rolled her eyes, muttering about "estrus beasts."
Utaha scribbled furiously in her notebook, mumbling about "excellent material."
Others secretly cursed his stamina.
He had endless energy. He was like a perpetual motion machine fueled by lust.
Seeing the glint in Ren's eyes—a look that said, 'I'm not done yet'—the survival instincts of the Quintuplets and the others kicked in.
"Run!"
They instantly scattered like frightened birds, retreating to their rooms and locking the doors.
Only two people remained in the living room.
Thor, the Dragon Maid, and the innocent newcomer, Amano Hina.
Thor stood there, her tail wagging excitedly behind her like a giant green metronome. Her eyes were sparkling with hearts.
"Ren-sama!"
Thor wiggled her hips, her tail swishing audibly. She blushed shyly, yet boldly grabbed the hem of her apron.
"Um... Ren-sama... if you still have energy... we can too! I am a dragon, I can take it!"
"We?"
Ren raised an eyebrow, looking at the small girl trembling beside the dragon.
Amano Hina's face was beet red. She looked like a steam engine about to blow a gasket.
She had also received the memories. She had seen it.
The scale. The duration. The sheer violence of his affection.
"I... I... I..."
Hina waved her hands repeatedly, backing away until her back hit the wall. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"I can't do it! I definitely won't fit! I'll break! I'll die!"
Oh.
Ren then realized the issue.
Amano Hina was a normal human girl. She possessed the power of the Sunshine Girl, sure, but physically? She was fragile.
To her, the memories of Ren's sword were akin to seeing a siege weapon.
'She's scared to death,' Ren thought, amused.
In the memories, even Heroic Spirits had fainted. If it were her...
Hina's mind was racing. 'Sister Solution's maid training in the Great Tomb of Nazarick indeed included strange knowledge about serving the Master in bed... but... but that's too terrifying!'
She looked at her own slender forearm.
Then she recalled the image from the memory.
It was bigger.
It was definitely bigger than her arm!
"Absolutely impossible!" she squeaked, covering her face. "Please spare me!"
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