NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: The Emberfall Estate
[🎶 Rock You Like A Hurricane – Scorpions.]
THE NUANCES OF RAFEL'S DEAL with Lilith filled his head as he swam up to the surface of the lake, which the portal had opened into.
"A hundred years, Apollyon." His Aunt had chirped, her naked breasts sliding against his chest. "A hundred years, and you're back to Hel. Not a second more."
Below Rafel, the portal still hung open at the bottom of the lake. He watched it shimmer, the silvery runes fading, before completely winking out. The magical doorway vanished and frigid water covered over the space where it once was. Hel was gone. And he, Rafel the Bloodthirsty, Hell's Champion was entering into this new mortal world as an Earl.
The oblivious mortals didn't know what was coming to them.
[Ding!] His infernal system chimed.
[PROWESS: Earl of Emberfall
ARCANE RUNE: 1 096 000 souls
SYSTEM: Unchanged
WEAPON OF CHOICE: Nil
KILL STREAK: 666
RANK: Mortal Earl]
Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished in the cold streams underwater. Beside Rafel, Aya Naamah swam without moving her arms. Her sensuous body did the strokes. She slithered upward through water like an eel. The Hell Lord openly stared.
"You want to see a glimpse of Heaven, my boy? Have a Succubus suck you off!" Uncle Asmodeus usually joked.
Only it wasn't just a joke. Succubi could suck the life essence right out of a man. Literally. Their power ranking rose the harder they were fucked. And the strongest Succubi were usually slaved to the Principalities. Strong enough that Lord Morningstar's top slave, Vashti, was S-rank.
Almost impossible for a Succubus to attain. But Lucifer had fucked her to Supernatural.
Aya was the first to break surface and stepped onto the river bank bare feet. Rafel broke out shortly after.
The first thing he noticed was the smell.
Fresh.
No stench of carcass on the wind. No underlying fragments of ash. Winds that swept sulphur up the nose, and breaths that burned down to the lungs. Just clean, fresh air. Rafel took in great gulps of it, marveling at how the temperature of the surface could ease the tension off his bones like Lilith's nimble fingers during a massage. The breeze against his wet hair smelled of flowers.
He had never smelled flowers before.
In fact, the mere sootless oxygen in Hell went for the price of a Novice Arcane Rune [30 souls].
There was a moon above, pale as a Reaper's skin after collecting a soul. And it was full. The light pouring down made the lake's cold water glimmer and shimmered off the bank, moist with the rising tide. Aya held out a hand to Rafel.
"Your Grace." She offered to pull him out.
Standing above him, Rafel tried not to stare at the way the soft material of her gown clung to the mounds of her tits and ass. It held snugly between her legs and Rafel wondered if she knew and was just playing naive, or totally ignorant. Since she was a Succubus, he opted for the latter.
Taking the hand offered, he climbed out to the bank. His feet sank into the brown damp earth. And Rafel marvelled at the feel against his toes. The dirt wasn't stained in crimson or infested in maggots for once.
He towered over Aya. And she looked up at him with clueless amber eyes.
The innocence in them could betray her promiscuity to a mortal.
It was awkward. This was new to Rafel. He'd never had a personal sex slave before. A woman slave. A Succubus slave. Lucifer's hellish castle did have its stewards and dungeon attendants, but those were mostly ugly, unsexual wraiths and Wailing Widows.
None so fine.
Aya Naamah was...stupefyingly hot.
[Ding! System detects a sinful craving.]
No shit.
Rafel dropped her hand, cool to the touch like the river. "Thank you. Can you change the color of your skin too?" He said. "We don't want to shock the mortals. Not yet."
Aya nodded.
"And what color would His Grace prefer?"
Rafel thought fast, a particular fantasy playing into his head. "Light. Light-skinned."
In the shadows of his grand goth bedchamber in Hel, Rafel would summon in the nearest Succubus to attend to his lust as soon as the fantasy entered his head. One night, he could long to suckle on the stupendous white breasts of his Aunt Lilith. Another night, he may desire for some good old skullfucking—which his dear auntie may also be open to provide.
Hell was a place to enact the darkest, twisted, repressed fantasies.
He did favor the occasional bronze-colored nymphet. But he would admit tonight, on the occasion of ascending to the surface, he desired something between. The lovely mix of white and brown.
Before his eyes, Aya went from a smooth ocean blue to a shade of caramel. And then lighter, but not quite white. "My Lord does approve." She tweeted, reading his smile. And held the complexion. She was fair as the butter of a baguette.
"Perfect." Rafel said.
Just then, he heard the sounds of an approaching carriage, rumbling down the forest path that passed before the lake. The sound of dry leaves crunching under the wheels sent the crickets chirping. It was deep in the Woods at night, so it had to be a farmer making a late journey back to his village. The trees whispered in the cool ambiance as Rafel drew into his shadow self.
Black gold runes danced over his shoulders and head as he pulled mana from his system, melding into the darkness of the bank untouched by moonlight.
"We need that carriage, Aya. Do your thing." He commanded.
...And he became one with the umbra of a tall, standing Willow.
Aya Naamah stared at her Lord Master weave into the shadows fringing the lakeside. The darkness made him invisible, even to any lurking demonic eyes. She could feel him though. More than the need to fuck him just to up her power level, was the one to fuck him—just because.
Lord BlüdThïrste was a devilishly handsome man. He had the ruthless looks and wicked eyes she could sink into. An infernal glance any Succubus would be stupid to shy away from. If she could get away with it, she would take him in her mouth this very night. To blowjob an ugly Hellbaby just to feed was one thing. But to perform aggressive fellatio on Hel's Apollyon?
Her rankings would skyrocket!
Lord Morningstar's was the only aristocratic cock she'd ever had. And how he loved to pat it against her pussy.
Fucking the divine-level Hell Principality was the only reason she was this young and A-rank already.
Her entire body throbbed at the mere thought of squeezing an Apollyon inside her. The only Apollyon. She would make it work even if he was a stingy lover. But the glare in his savage yellow pupils told her he wasn't. Dominant, yes! But stingy in bed, nah!
Her redhaired Lord Master couldn't be stingy even if he tried. All planes of him turned her on. Her system already screeched to be fed.
A good, long, and sweaty feed.
Aya blinked, letting go of her immoral thoughts when the carriage Rafel had spoken about entered her purview. It was a simple wagon make. Wooden wheels and a steel cart atop.
Silently, she padded two steps away from the river bank. The spot where she stood made cold water lap up her tiny ankles whenever the tide came in. On seeing the light-skinned beauty casually standing before the glimmering water, the carriage's owner, a returning farmer, dragged unceremoniously at the reins. The wagon of farm produce peeled to a swift stop.
"Dear Lord God!" The farmer exclaimed.
He stepped down the carriage with wide eyes. All his possessions were forgotten in that instant. And he couldn't for the life of him notice the fiery eyes that stared out from the shadows.
He was dazzled. Enchanted. Lost—in this strange, beautiful woman.
Aya had lost her horns too, pulling them into her head when she'd changed skin color. She looked fairly mortal.
"My Lady, are you lost?" The farmer started for her. The respect in his words didn't reach his eyes. Lecherously, he gawped at her, committing her fat ass and wide hips to memory for later.
"I'm afraid so, kind Sir." Aya played at her lips with a forefinger.
The seduction was kindling. Almost suicidal.
The farmer had reached her and glued his eyes to her wet blouse where her swollen nipples begged at his lips—or so he thought. It was the cold air of earth that had made Aya's breasts heavy and taut.
"I seek a ride to Emberfall, kind Sir, if you would be so inclined to help a distressed damsel."
"The haunted estate?" The farmer's lips quirked up. "It's right ahead. But I'm afraid it would cost ye. You see, beautiful lady, the Woods are a dangerous place to be at night."
'Right back at you, mortal.' Rafel sniggered in the darkness.
"What cost?" Aya replied, feigning innocence. "Take it. Take whatever you may want."
Unbelief melted the purity from the farmer's eyes as he roughly grabbed two handfuls of her large breasts. "Oh fuck. These tits. These fuckin' tits." He massaged roughly. "What's a respected Lady doing alone out in the middle of the Woods, huh? Well, you're gonna get it!
You're gonna get it so bad. Fuck me!"
The farmer lowered his head, his salt-and-pepper hair brushing Aya's cleavage as he pushed apart the tease of her gown. His mouth immediately sought out her rose peaks and his tongue lashed out in earnest.
"Yes!" Aya hissed like a serpent. "Take those tits. Suck on them. Play with them! Yeah, fuck. Just like that."
It didn't matter that her sex partner was a stranger in the bowels of a dark forest at midnight, her eyes still glowed rich indigo. Her lust system was receiving a significant spike. This little session with the mortal would last her until she could make Lord Master fuck her with his massive cock.
The farmer was moaning, now on his knees before Aya at the river bank. He was grasping her ass, roaming, fondling, groping. He squeezed hard on every soft curve of her.
Perched by the grappling roots of the Willow tree, wrapped in a cloak of night, Rafel allowed the man only two minutes to indulge his lust. And then in a movement only Aya's demonic eyes could catch, he clicked his fingers for her to end it. However she saw fit.
Aya nodded once, lowering her eyes to her sexual worshipper below, who now had one of her legs propped up on his shoulder, sucking on her toes.
"As much as you are an eager lover, servant. I'm afraid this menage has come to an end."
Before the man could comprehend her words out of his sexual haze, Aya, with a single finger tipped back his forehead. The farmer's head fell back with a great cracking sound. And when his stiff body met with the river bank, his neck was boneless, twisted to a fatal angle.
Rafel sauntered out of the shadows to Aya.
"Nice work!" He commented, regarding the fresh corpse with a wry smile.
Aya blushed and corrected her gown, pulling the black material back over her swaying bosom. Rafel gave the body one final look before kicking it into the lake. It soon rose to float over the silvery water, the head facing up, the body, down. In the rising mist, rigor mortis was quick to set in.
"A Reaper will be here soon enough to collect." Rafel remarked, climbing into the carriage.
"Hiyah!" Aya took the front driver's seat, slapping the reins and urging on the horses.
Quietly, Hell Lord and Succubus rumbled away. Before long, the forest was silent again, the corpse of the poor farmer left floating under the wan moon.
The ride was short. The farmer had been right. Emberfall was straight ahead. And in half an hour, Aya found the forest path opening into a wider gravel road that led up to high wrought-iron gates. In yataghan lettering above was the smelted name, EMBERFALL.
70 000 acres it was.
...of misty, ghost field that seemed to effect its own dismal weather.
Aya led the horses up to the Manor in the distance. Several other buildings were scattered along the residential line, but she guessed this was the Earl's Keep. It was the largest of the bunch.
The Manor was colossal. Astonishingly huge. And would be described as beautiful if not for the lugubrious undertones. The artifice was marvelous. A façade equal parts pretty and goth. But silencing its grand exterior was the feel that something or someone who lived here wasn't entirely human.
It was haunted alright. By them!
Since it was Lilith herself who had picked Emberfall, Rafel wasn't surprised when the carriage pulled under giant fat Blackstone pillars with the sculptures of grim gargoyles atop, staring out as if wendigos were just about to emerge from the thick mist beyond.
It was a tall young woman who answered the door.
Aya was just about to rattle again the golden dragonhead knockers when the double doors were pulled open from inside. The girl behind it was slender, of a svelte figure, which she hid expertly in her crisp trousers. Her hair of pure silver was shaved on both sides, the middle gelled back in a boyish coif. Her catchy blue eyes were seductively human and shimmered like water in a bowl.
A sharp gaze like a Hellhound's. It could scorch the skin right off a cadaver.
"Lord BlüdThïrste!" The girl spoke with a linguistic tone. "It's a pleasure to have you here at Emberfall. I am Corazón Mortimer, your faithful Chamberlain. I will also be anything else you desire."
Cora glanced with respect at the entity flagging the tall doors. The man was even more intimidating in person. She had heard stories. Beautiful horror stories.
"—And you must be Mistress Naamah. Please!" Corazón waved them in.
Rafel looked around in the imposing interior of the Emberfall Manor. The decor was red. Shades of it to soften the walls. But still, expensive royal red. His favorite.
Corazón and Aya bonded instantly, making small talk as Rafel roved silently in the wide foyer. Lilith didn't tell him she was gifting him a Castle. The Emberfall Estate was a lordly signory. He didn't care to wonder who the previous Earl was or what he had done to piss off The Fallen that not even one of his oil paintings graced the walls of the house.
Pity, Rafel mused.
His Auntie had made good on her deal.
Emberfall was luxurious.
Rafel turned on his heel from the intricate splash of golden light across the Kevlir tiled floors, resplendent, as if cleaned with a cat's tongue.
"So, you're one of Lilith's pets then? A human servant?" Rafel enquired.
It wasn't unlike his Aunt to keep a few mortals handy. She hadn't quite gotten over them after living amongst them briefly in the last millennia. But Cora's reply shocked Rafel.
"I'm afraid not, Your Grace. I merely practice the Dark Arts. Her Eminence, Lilith Firstborn, Lady of the Night, is Matriarch of my coven. And so, I am utterly grateful to hold presence with her most beloved nephew. It is my sincere honor to serve you, Lord BlüdThïrste."
A mistress of the Dark Arts was not 'mere' anything. In fact, the highest of levels, the Supreme Sorceress was A-rank Hell tier, and could even attain Supernatural status in death if a Principality gifted such an Epic Arcane Rune. Sorcerers were the strongest arcane users of the mortal realm.
Inwardly, Rafel was glad he had one as a Chamberlain. A Knockout too. He said nothing though.
Rafel would be the first to admit he had many enemies. Juggernauts of Imperial Hel with vengeful spirits who felt he owed them a pound of flesh for killing their loved ones in the arena. Take Agaliath's seven concubines for instance. Two of which were Wraiths. So it didn't hurt to have extra ammo around.
Who knew when Agaliath's Hell Bride would suddenly appear over his roof, demanding blood?
"Weapons System?" Rafel asked, starting out across the luminous foyer.
"The Manor is upgraded to a sentient Haunting ability. We have dungeons for trespassers underneath. A keep for Hellhounds a mile away. A pool of crocodiles to keep off the mermaids. And a small kingdom of fairies in the orchard. All of whom have sworn fealty to you.
The arsenal rating of the Manor is ranked moderate. Spears, shields, black daggers, and swords. Most uncommon. Some rare. Few, legendary." Corazón replied intelligently, walking with Rafel as she talked. "Is this about your Brimstone armor, Your Grace?
You left it behind in Hel. I can have it's like fashioned here. But you'll have to level it up to its legendary status."
[Ding!]
[WEAPON SYSTEM RANKING: Common - Uncommon - Rare - Hallowed - Blessed - Legendary - Epic - Divine.]
"Thank you, Cora," replied Rafel. "That is thoughtful. Do that. And while you're at it, get your fellow coven brethren to up the Wards. Aya and I slipped through it easily. We do not want any unspoken-for intruders now, do we?"
"No, Your Grace." Corazón stopped and bowed at the foot of the grand spiral staircase. "Once again, Your Grace, welcome to Emberfall!" She said.
Rafel nodded, sneaking a smile over her Tomboy appearance. "I'll be in my chambers."
Aya and Cora stuck to the foot of the stairs, watching him ascend. His gallant strides did not go unnoticed to both women. It was at the top that Rafel turned. A hand gripping the gilded banister, he beckoned to Aya Naamah.
"Well, come on, slave!"
This time it was Corazón Mortimer who sneaked a smile under the Earl's roman nose, as the fair Succubus rushed up the stairs after him. Cora could smell the sex in the air already.