Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!

Fortunately, there was no night raid during the wild night. We completely erased the traces from last night and checked what happened to the humans during the night.

"Master, last night that...?"

"Don't say anything."

I ended up not breaking through Lune's front last night. The membrane like hundreds of layers of plastic wrap showed no sign of breaking through.

'Fuck, which bastard designed the high elf race setting?'

Whoever it was, they're definitely a bastard in heat for virgins. How could it not break through even when I expanded enough for my member to fit and thrust at full power? Noier and Dehea's back doors could break through if push came to shove, but Lune's below was so solid that if she were a goalkeeper, she'd definitely win the world championship.

"Master, should I get an awl?"

"Stop it. Don't say silly things."

Though only about half my penis could enter, even that much was enough to enjoy Lune's below. Now I'll pound mercilessly regardless of evolution or whatever. With the goal of breaking through while doing it. And the moment I break through, I'll inject a thick shot inside.

"So until then, I'll do it every single day. Got it?"

"Yes. But Master, does that mean you'll just leave the back alone?"

"...If I fail in the front, I'll do it in the back."

What's the point of leaving the back dungeon I took the trouble to develop idle? We agreed on pouring once in front and once in back. Eila and Gremory expressed dissatisfaction, but it's my decision how much I cum where anyway.

'Wish my stamina was a bit stronger.'

On days when I need to go hard, I can ejaculate 12 times, but then the next day I can only manage 5-6 times. As days passed since evolving to 4 stars, maintaining my condition while ejaculating at an average pace of 7-8 times a day became my routine.

"So don't be too stingy. I'll pour inside once every day from now on. Not cumming while fighting was driving me crazy."

I gradually reduced ejaculation frequency for the occupation of Ras Vegas. Tons of protein must have already drained out through countless ejaculations, but I even gave up morning service to focus on occupying Ras Vegas.

Then my tension got too high. I decided to empty my balls moderately and go about daily life.

"Then let's start moving soon. There's tons to do today."

"Master. Since we have a kitchen for once, breakfast...? Heehee."

Lune and Eila pointed to the kitchen. Gremory was already preparing breakfast wearing an apron. I couldn't help but enter the kitchen with a vague sense of unease.

"I knew this would happen."

The kitchen was on the verge of total devastation. The kitchen state was catastrophic, to the point where I wondered where she got these ingredients and how she turned them into this mess. I snatched the knife from Gremory.

"You guys just stay still."

"Oh my, are you going to cook?"

"Why would I do that?"

I raise the blade and point toward the government office.

"Just ask if there's someone there who can cook."

"...Ask?"

"The residents aren't slaves. Everyone who loves Ras is an equal resident. I'm the evangelist and representative of Ras. Didn't you notice what happened there during the night?"

"...?"

Seems they really didn't notice. I mentioned how my sons briefly visited the house while I was doing it with Eila.

"Heh heh, those guys must've had some fun."

"...No way, surely not."

"Want me to tell you something interesting? Among the residents remaining in Ras Vegas...."

I wrap my hand around Gremory's waist and tickle her.

"You know what percentage are widows?"

Welcome to Ras Vegas.

***

Morning came. A gloomy and depressing air hung over the barony. The messenger who should have delivered news of victory even last night didn't arrive, and the Baroness felt anxious.

"Sir Gray."

"...Yes."

Eventually, Knight Gray, who returned from the capital last night, bowed his head with a bitter expression.

"Did I send too few troops?"

"No. Comparing combat power against regular orcs, a thousand men was excessive."

"Then does it take a full day for those thousand infantry to occupy Zabiyaba with only a wooden fence?"

"No. Even if they brought wood from nearby to make ladders and climbed over, they should have brought victory news to Spica Castle by last night."

"Then in your view, would Sir Knight Ramatio be careless against a mere 100 orcs?"

"No. He's someone who values quick decisions and pursues maximum efficiency with cool judgment. He would have begun the siege immediately upon arrival. Moreover...."

Knight Gray continued in an awkward voice.

"...Wasn't it Sir Knight Ramatio who strongly insisted on erecting a wooden fence at Zabiyaba? He would know better than anyone the most efficient way to recapture Zabiyaba."

"Right. That's right. That's why I sent Sir Knight Ramatio and no one else."

Baroness Virgo bit her lips with a stern expression.

"...Something definitely went wrong. Is there still no news from the scouts sent at dawn?"

"No."

"Right. Great, wonderful. Every one we send has no news. Whew."

The Baroness threw up both hands. The worst assumption floating in her head—1000 infantry and 50 cavalry annihilated and the knight captured as prisoner—made her naturally sharp-edged.

Please let some news come in. And as if the goddess heard the Baroness's wish, a polite knock sounded on the door.

"Excuse me."

At the refreshing voice blowing away the heavy atmosphere, the Baroness smiled naturally. The one who opened the door and entered was a boy priest with a monocle and short stature.

"May the goddess's guidance be with you. I've identified what species the captured monster is."

"Oh, what is it?"

"...."

The boy priest took a breath. At his action of building suspense, the people in the conference room naturally became anxious. And that anxiety became reality.

"Demon King's Army 56th. It's a 'jokamel,' a monster that only appears in Red-Haired Witch Gremory's dungeon."

"...Goddess."

The Baroness clasped both hands and prayed. From the moment 100 orcs were the advance party, she thought it was suspicious, but she never dreamed a dungeon as high as 56th rank would appear in her territory.

She thought the day would finally come when she could live with her shoulders back, but why did such a trial fall on her? The Baroness sighed deeply inside.

'No. This could be an opportunity.'

If it's a 56th rank dungeon, the accumulated wealth and magic stones must be considerable. Though she suffered the humiliation of Zabiyaba being taken, if the Baroness recaptures it with her own hands and then occupies the dungeon, everything will change.

Baroness Virgo. Though Zabiyaba was taken by a large-scale orc ambush, she immediately took the offensive to recapture it, then rode the momentum to occupy Gremory's dungeon and took the Red-Haired Witch's head. What a thrilling imagination.

'If the achievement is recognized, I could receive the rank of viscountess!'

Viscountess Virgo. The Baroness trembled slightly at that name. Her glasses slipped down so she had to push them up briefly. Now a rosy future lies ahead—

"This is terrible!!"

Without even knocking, a soldier rushed in through the open door. The Baroness felt unpleasant as her body flying through the sky got pulled to the ground.

"...So, what's terrible?"

"They were annihilated!!"

"State the subject. Obviously the orcs, right?"

"...The subjugation force led by Sir Knight Ramatio was completely annihilated without a single survivor!! Orcs still occupy Zabiyaba!!"

Baroness Virgo's mood plummeted to the ground, losing its wings. The dream she thought was a rosy future got covered in a blood-red reality, and the Baroness felt dizzy.

"Sir Knight Ramatio...died in battle! Sir Knight Ramatio's banner was hung on the northern watchtower of Zabiyaba...!"

The worst assumption became reality.

***

After reaching an agreement on ejaculation frequency with the three and having breakfast.

Fortunately, not a single one escaped. Those who agreed to become residents gathered at the government office at the designated time, and I gave the old weaver with an armband the position of factory manager.

"From now on, you must make clothes for our orcs and humans to wear. Using these feathers."

I dump countless feathers that came through the portal during the night onto the floor. On the floor pile up white feathers shed by molting harpies, and black feathers from Andras pulled from the sub-dungeon.

"Th-this much...?"

The factory manager old man gulps at the amount enough to bury a person. He seems not to have expected me to prepare such a large quantity.

"The white ones are harpy feathers. And the black ones are Andras feathers. Both are avian monsters, and Andras feathers produce about this much daily."

I lift a wooden box. When feathers are completely plucked from even the Andras that appear as bosses, it produces enough to easily fill a 100L box.

"Can you spin thread from this much?"

"I'll know once I try it directly, but it's enough. No, it's more than enough. Wh-what kind of animal is this Andras...?"

"It's a monster? The head is a crow and below is a naked human."

"...."

The factory manager falls silent. His expression rots from learning what he didn't need to know. But what can he do, now that he knows? He's already lost himself in the softness the Andras feathers provide. The reason Lune wears her wing dress as outerwear every day isn't simply for fashion but for warmth and comfort.

"Try practicing directly for now. Make enough thread to satisfy me, then make proper fabric from it."

Among silk, isn't the soft one like feathers called velvet? How to weave bird feathers will be the factory manager's job, but at least since he said it's somehow possible, I just need to leave it to him.

"Well, you can make various things, but ultimately what I'm requesting is like this."

I draw a picture with a quill pen on paper obtained from the government office. To the extent that best matches this era's culture, and about 'that' which I truly desire.

"...Goodness."

The factory manager swallows at my drawing. Imagining Lune wearing it, at my drawing skill that captured Lune's lower body I took in with my eyes yesterday with all my soul, he even covers his mouth with his hand.

"What...is this?"

"Ah. That's—"

"Master?"

From behind, Lune approaches me. I'm startled and fold the drawing. It's still dangerous in various ways for Lune to find out.

"What's the matter? Are you done with maintenance already?"

"Yes. I moved all the feathers to the place the factory manager mentioned. I deployed my squad members nearby too. The kids all recovered from their wounds and returned this morning."

The orcs who were seriously wounded in battle recovered their stamina after spending one night in the dungeon. I immediately gave Lune another order.

"Then Lune, join Tristan's squad waiting at the guard post. I'm assigning you the role of archery instructor for two squads."

"...Me?"

Lune smiles quite awkwardly. Where did that little devil who slammed her butt down trying to break her own membrane last night go? She's scared like a part-time trainee who got too heavy a responsibility.

"Y-you want me to be an archery instructor? Me? Really??"

"Lune. You're an elf, right? A high elf at that?"

"But I don't have the skills to teach others...."

"Where did the elf who killed more with just a bow than Gremory yesterday go, and why is there such a scared elf here? Lune, we can't throw rocks forever. Now that we have equipment, we need to shoot some arrows too. I don't expect every orc to shoot at your sniper level. Even just shooting around the target area is something, right? You know? Our orc archer unit...."

I grip Lune's shoulder tightly.

"Indiscriminate firing is the motto. If 10 shots don't hit, shoot 100, shoot 1000. Got it?"

"...Yes! I'll teach them well!"

Lune leaves the government office with a bright smile. With ten years shaved off my life, I hand the folded paper back to the factory manager.

"Almost got caught."

"...Is the elf lady the one who'll wear that? Goodness...."

The factory manager openly envies me. Whether elf, orc, or human doesn't matter anymore. The factory manager envies me as one male, one man.

"Really...goodness, if you dress her in this...gulp."

"Heh heh, it'll be awesome, right? So make it well. There's more than one variation of this."

"What in the world is this called?"

"Ah, that."

I find it too hard to lower my rising lips.

"It's called pantyhose."

Did I tell Lune it was panties?

I didn't lie.