HikerAngel
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A Deal with the Devil
🕑 Added 2022-11-12 02:27:24 +0000 UTCCommissioned by 10k
Written by HikerAngel
“Sorry sir, the price on the sign is the definitive price. We don’t do handouts here,” the tired lady spoke from the other side of the counter.
“Look, please, I’m only a few coins short. It’s literally the cheapest item you have! You think you could, y’know, cut me some slack just this once? It’s hard finding a good hunting party these days!”
The orc girl just sighed and reached for a dedicated contact spell. “We can always see what the dragon in upper management has to say about it if you’re unsatisfied.”
Rhys sighed as he slowly slid his meager coinage back into his satchel, changing his tune immediately. “Uh, t-that won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
He fled the little roadside shop with a hurried stride, almost on the verge of tears. “Damn! Why is it always so hard to get anything useful when one is so low-rank!?” the adventurer lamented. “If I go hunting for more, that’ll cut into my food money and rent money, and I only barely have enough for the roadside inn I’m staying at.”
It was cyclical poverty for the poor adventurer. All his shabby armor and low-level weaponry could afford to go up against were meager slimes and magic grass, which only barely yielded Rhys enough gold and exp to live as he did. Something needed to change.
He had been cautious of resorting to the nuclear option, an enticing trap that most legends referred to as dangerous and left completely up to universal chance. But as he stared at the pitiful amount of gold in his wallet, Rhys had to admit the offer was quite tempting.
Playing it straight wasn’t working anymore. All the big raiding parties were only getting bigger and no one wanted to join a low-rank loser, nor did anyone want him in their party except as cannon fodder. That was an easy way to prematurely end his adventuring days for sure.
Fuck it, it was time to summon a demon.
Using most of his tiny gold reserve, Rhys purchased the necessary ingredients to generate a summoning circle.
The meager adventurer grunted as he became tangled up within his own process. The salt residue made him cough and sputter, his vision faltered as the sky grew dark, the illumination of the dimly-lit summoning circle candled his only source of light. Even as the obstructions piled up, he continued to work tirelessly throughout the night, hoping and praying that this would all pay off.
Little did Rhys know, he was doing everything wrong.
His candles were crafted with the wrong wick, producing the wrong type of flame. The table salt he purchased was used to ward demons away, not summon them like the proper chalk circle did. He had even drawn his pentagram with six sides. Despite this, Rhys had nothing but complete confidence as he achingly stood up, raising the cursed book in his hand and preparing himself to recite the Latin words.
Oh, and he had also been scammed by the bookseller. It didn’t possess a single legitimate demon-summoning incantation. Also the language wasn’t even Latin, although it was technically a Latin in a sense.
“Iyay amyay ayay upidstay oronmay!” Rhys recited with a deep baritone from his chest. When nothing inevitably happened, he tried again, still the same conviction in his voice. When nothing happened the second time, he was beginning to wonder if he had did something wrong. By the fourth time, he—
“Hmm, no, wait, wait, wait. Stop, pause, pause!” came a feminine voice as if she was a director that reality itself obeyed. The entire universe fell completely still like it was merely a VHS tape and she was wielding the master remote from her lazyboy. She floated down from the heavens, a beautiful goddess in every regard, one whose true form would certainly bring anyone who gazed upon it to either tears or a berserker rampage as their mind lost all cognitive reasoning.
She was Rhea, the oldest and most powerful goddess there was. Like usual, she was bored and looking for a little fun. The goddess eyed Rhys up and down, inspecting a toy she could possibly extract fun from. “Wow, this guy’s got to be one of the most pathetic losers I’ve ever seen… perfect.”
If there was anything that brought joy to the boredom of Rhea’s endless existence, it was bullying low-exp adventurers. She could do it with a flick of her finger, but where would the fun be in that? With a flick of her finger, she could also erase the entirety of the cosmos from existence, lame! Played-out! Pastiche! She had been there, done that, then undid that. What she craved instead was a narrative, she wanted the pathetic humans to assume that her japes were a random event crafted by the cold, uncaring universe, while they were actually a carefully crafted series of events that built up endlessly, only for the truest extent of her humiliation to always be right around the corner.
She naughtily giggled to herself, kicking the air she floated upon as she imagined how she’d mess with this gullible idiot going forward. If he was this ignorant when it came to actually creating a summoning circle, he had probably never seen one work before, which meant he’d almost certainly never seen a demon in action before.
“Ooh, yes, that’s quite an idea to be sure!” she self-aggrandized. Rhea then put on her best semi-sarcastic narrator voice. “Little did our intrepid adventurer know, his unconventional ritual had just summoned an ultra-rare, never-before-seen, one-of-a-kind demon!”
As she monologued, her proportions began to change. Rhea’s massive, motherly, bathykolpian body began to diminish, her size decreasing in half from a commanding ten feet. While her height took a purposeful hit, she made sure to retain the sizable breasts and thighs that befitted a goddess such as herself. Her vibrant, blonde hair shifted to an equally vibrant white, as red-purple tinted horns erected from within the curls. A tail snaked from just above her greatly-improved ass and thighs, peeking out from her outfit as it too was subjected to the demonic transformation.
Rhea’s lacey, see-through robes thickened, wrapping tightly around her body as they formed a fancy, detailed pantsuit. Her new attire struck a perfect balance, retaining a sense of unique authority while still cute enough to fit her new role as a secret, low-level support/healer class.
As a final touch, the goddess-turned-demon’s heavenly aura of hopeful yellow turned a dark crimson, but heavily, heavily toned down. What once could permanently blind a man from just remembering her from a past life was now a hazy red outline. The more unassuming she could be, the better.
She set the scene perfectly, unpausing reality as she generated a dozen strange, otherworldly explosions and hellfire that actually amounted to little more than real-time VFX.
Rhys watched in horror as what appeared to be a gaping portal to the underworld ripped open the air before him, only for the excessive fanfare to cease completely once a rather small creature stepped out of it.
“So, Rhys, is it?” Asked the spunky demoness that floated before him. “You’ve summoned me, I take it?”
“Y-yes to both of those questions!” Rhys responded, quickly quelling his nervousness. “I was told summoning a demon was a risk-reward kinda deal? Are you a good demon or a bad one?”
While from Rhys’ perspective, the demon seemed stoic, that was a mere facade of reality only he could see. From beyond the illusion, Rhea was profusely giggling out of sheer disbelief at how stupid this guy was. Despite the ever-improbable situation, he didn’t seem to question anything.
“Oh, Rhys, I’m a very bad demon,” Rhea taunted, bending her delightfully sexy body forward in midair so that the two of their faces were mere inches apart from one another. She left the actual meaning of “bad” up to his interpretation, yet Rhys didn’t seem suspicious at all.
“Not to worry, Ms.— um, what’s your name exactly?”
“Rhea—“ the hidden goddess began to say, before pausing. She was so caught up in the euphoria of Rhys’ stupidity that she had forgotten how much of a dead giveaway her normal name would be. “—amone.” She quickly added to save face. “Rheamone, that’s my name, secret daughter of the devil himself!”
To further sell the lie she had just thrust herself into, an alternate version of herself quickly traveled down to hell, directly into the throne of the devil himself. “Rhea? What are you doing here? The pact between gods and demons states you aren’t allowed to interfere with—“
Rhea silently erased the devil from existence with a twitch of her finger, ensuring that not a speck of him remained. Next, his entire castle was demolished, framing it as a coup attempt from an opposing faction of demons. She then quickly spent several years organically electing a replacement for the devil, one whose policies and beliefs coincided with the original devil, the only exception being “Rheamone” was legally registered as his daughter, and therefore would not arouse suspicion.
She was just about to leave until she remembered that the timeline didn’t quite match up, so Rhea quickly altered the sequence of events so that they took place before her encounter with Rhys. Trillions of souls were erased in an instant, only to be replaced with identical copy-and-pasted duplicates as Rhea was eager to return to her original charade. Slipping back into her original timeline, everything returned exactly to where it was supposed to be... hopefully, she wouldn't have to do anything that immersion-breaking going forward.
“Ah, well, glad to have you on the team, Rheamone!” Rhys responded without a second thought even blipping into his mind. The disguised goddess was internally relieved at how effortless her ruse was so far.
However, that sense of relief was quickly replaced by nervousness. Why did I just hesitate in front of this loser!? I’ve never hesitated before! I’ve always known exactly what to say several thousands of years before I’m meant to say it! What the hell kind of name is “Rheamone” anyways? That sounds fucking stupid!”
Thankfully, for her sake, Rhys bought the deception hook, line and sinker. “Let’s get back to town, hmm? With you at my side, I’m sure they’ll let me pick up some low-level quests!”
“Yes, some low-level quests,” Rhea responded with as much enthusiasm that she could muster. She was hoping he’d just jump right into an active volcano with a newfound sense of confidence, but perhaps she’d need to stroke his ego more just to see what would happen. Rhys practically skipped back to town, while Rhea hovered a millimeter above the ground at all times. She knew that if her feet physically interacted with the ground beneath them at any point, there wouldn’t be a world left for Rhys to be humiliated within.
“Uh, well, there’s always some medium-level slimes you can clear if you think you’re up to the task,” said the tavern keeper once they arrived in the quest-giving part of town. His eyes were fixated to Rheamone, a mix of curiosity and intrigue in his pupils. “Huh, I’ve never seen a demon like that before.”
“That’s because she’s an entirely new demon! I summoned her using salt and beeswax!”
The tavern keeper stifled a chuckle, immediately recognizing everything wrong with that sentence. Rhea held her breath in her throat, fearful that her cover had been blown.
“Sure, okay pal, whatever gets the job done. I’ll look into that while you’re doing this quest for me, okay?”
“Adventure!” Rhys exclaimed, only choosing to hear the “quest” part of the tavern keeper’s statement. “C’mon, Rheamone! Those medium slimes aren’t going to slay themselves!”
“Yaaaay,” Rhea replied sarcastically.
And so, Rhys set off to the outskirts of town—an already-bored Rhea ensuring he’d get there faster by physically compressing the distance between the two points. Each step became the equivalent of two as cubic meters collapsed in half. A group of miners underground were met with the most painful pseudo-cave-in imaginable when the already limiting space they had to work with was halved, immediately trapping several of them under the full weight of the earth.
Rhea was afraid she was already pushing it with this “fast-travel” system, having an excuse of “with a quest selected, I increase your movement speed”’ in case he asked. But Rhys never asked. He didn’t seem to notice the grass becoming oddly flat and the anorexic trees that surrounded him, his attention was completely fixated on the large blobs of goo before him.
Rhys leapt into the slime propagation area with newfound resolve, drawing his sword midair as he went for a jumping slash on his enemy. Perhaps he was expecting a passive enhancement on his weaponry, or perhaps he was expecting his demonic companion to pepper in some attacks of her own, but Rhea did none of the sort.
Crossing her petite hands under her sizable breasts, the goddess watched in amusement as Rhys was quickly overwhelmed. His poor tactics immediately resulted in his shoddy wooden sword splintering upon contact with the slightly more threatening foe. Discombobulated, Rhys left himself wide open for retaliation from the medium slime. A simple hop from the brainless invertebrate toppled the almost-brainless Rhys onto his back. He tried to get up, only for the slime to jump on top of him, suffocating him briefly before hopping off. A brief reprieve was all he was allocated as another slime took its place.
This process continued in a cycle, five slimes took their time slowly waterboarding Rhys to death.
“Rheamone! Mmff! Do Mmff! Something!” Rhys screamed in between slime-suffocating sessions.
“What was that, Rhys?” Rhea asked, comically putting a hand to her pointed ear. “I can’t quite parse what you’re saying since you’re being cut off by the slimes jumping atop you.”
Of course, Rhea knew exactly what he was saying, she was simply having too much fun watching this overconfident idiot screw himself over.
“Attack! Mmff! A-attack! Mmffmmfff! Attack!”
“Attack?” Rhea asked after he had already repeated the word fifteen more times. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, Rhys? One attack, coming right up!”
Before the attack could happen, Rhys found himself fading from consciousness.
He awoke with a sharp inhale, sitting up. There wasn’t a slime ready to jump on him anymore. In fact, there weren’t any slimes. Or other monsters. Or grass.
A large patch of scorched earth the size of a football stadium surrounded him on all sides. The ground was cracked and dehydrated, small lava geysers were popping sporadically.
“Woah…” was all Rhys could say.
He then felt a presence on his head and shoulders. Looking to his left and right, Rhys realized his head was now caught in between Rhea’s voluminous thighs as she piggybacked atop him. Glancing upwards, his eyes were greeted with Rhea’s. She was resting her breasts on the back of his head and her elbow on the front of it. She wasn’t actually touching him, but she was exactly one Planck’s width away, simulating the feel for both him and herself.
“Gotta say Rhys, your soft shoulders almost make up for how boney your head is.” She then knocked on his forehead, manipulating reality to add a hollow sound effect.
But Rhys wasn’t even focused on Rhea’s insult. His mind finally put all the pieces together.
“Oh my gods! Rheamone! You saved my life! You defeated all those slimes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Rhea found her face turn beet red. That was simply the most genuine compliment she had ever received from anyone, one full of whimsy and charm. Her mind shifted to when she cared about worship, how fake and by-routine it all felt. When she was once a regular earth-dwelling god thousands of years ago, everyone would drop to their knees at the mere sight of her. Of course they would, they were all lesser humans who knew nothing but worship for those above them. Rhys seemed… different. He didn’t care about the formalities of the world, he just wanted an adventure. All he wanted was—
“Rheamone? Are you okay? You’re looking all red in the face.”
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Immediately, Rhea froze time once more. She was reminiscing so fondly she completely forgot about her blush! She hadn’t even bothered to put up a facade to cover it or anything! Just what was this stupid idiot human doing to her!? She took a few billion years to shake off her feelings before finally finding the resolve to unpause time, her blush finally dissipated.
“Of course I’m fine, idiot. Just had some excess heat buildup from that attack.”
“Oh, well that makes sense. It did seem to be a pretty powerful attack. How much gold and exp did we get from it?”
Good. Everything was now back to the way it was—the way it always should have been. Rhea put on her best smug face, knowing she had another bombshell up her perfectly-ironed sleeve.
“Oh, I suppose you didn’t know, I absorb all the drops from any attack. I don’t share. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.”
Rhys made a pouty face briefly, but the moment passed for him. “Oh well, I’ll just try harder next time. After all, the exp at least went to someone on my team!”
But the moment didn’t pass for Rhea. She almost felt bad lying to him about the drops. Almost. Rhys was quick to notice the sorrow on his demon compatriot’s face.
“Aww, don’t be sad Rheamone, there’s always the next quest.”
While the goddess was quietly relieved thanks to Rhys’ misinterpretation, that line of thinking at also reopened another old wound. “Yeeeeaaah, the next quest. Maybe… we should try a different town?”
Rhys shrugged his shoulders, bouncing Rhea slightly. “Hey, if you know a better town, lead the way! Just let me inform the tavern keeper that we completed that quest of his.”
Realizing there was no other way to divert his attention, Rhea simply bit her tongue and let Rhys give her piggyback ride back into town.
The adventurer stopped in his tracks once he saw the tavern. It was burnt to a crisp, the charred body of the tavern keeper visible within the blackened debris.
“Oops, looks like he let a candle burn a little too long while attempting to research summoning techniques for me,” Rhea mentioned rather casually, flying off of Rhys shoulders to inspect the rubble. She flicked at his charred remains, which promptly dissolved into ashes. “Oh well, I guess we’ll just have to find another quest giver, hmm?”
Rhys slumped forward. “Aww. I didn’t even get a chance to get a reward from him. I was really hoping he’d gift me a new sword, since mine broke.”
Seeing Rhys genuinely heartbroken about something twisted Rhea’s non-existent stomach into a million knots. She needed to remedy this at once.
“Well, uh, I wouldn’t say you got nothing from this whole encounter.” She floated down and thrust her arm into the rubble, grabbing the first object she could find. She then quickly morphed it into a unique blade, one that fit Rhys’ green-blue aesthetic much better than his previous wooden one. “Here, it looks like your reward would have been this Level two Turquoise Blade.”
She dusted off the fake soot she added in post before tossing it his way. The toss was perfect in every way, the goddess ensuring that even Rhys’ grand incompetence could not mess up such a catch.
As expected, he missed the catch.
But once he finally picked up the sword, wielding it properly in his hands, a wide, unmistakable smile grew upon his face. It may have been a sword most children were wielding nowadays, but the adventurer was happy to receive it regardless. When Rhys was happy, Rhea... also was happy?
“So, next town?” asked the eager goddess.
“You bet!” replied the equally-eager human.
With that, they were off. Rhys was ready to experience the world proper and Rhea was ready to experience Rhys’ experience. The travel to the next town—once a harrowing, dangerous trek across forested ground—was now a pleasant stroll, mostly because any magical creature with more than a brain cell could sense the power radiating off of Rhea and sensibly chose to steer clear.
“Well, I’ll be…” came a wizened voice as Rhys waltzed into town. “You’ve got a sword graced by the gods themselves.”
“Don’t listen to that guy Rhys, he’s gone senile,” Rhea immediately whispered into his ear. “Just trust me on this one, I can spot a doddering old fool from a mile away.”
“Aww, well that’s sad to hear. I sure hope they one day find a cure for aging.”
Even if Rhea wasn’t hiding her omnipotent status, she didn’t have the heart to tell him how effortless a solution would be for her caliber of goddesshood.
Rhys accepted tedious quest after tedious quest, slowly whittling down all the small-pay jobs that no one else would take. Rhea expected herself to become rather bored by the constant grind, but she had to admit—Rhys was quite a charming human.
There was just something about him. It was hard to explain, and yet Rhea had access to every single language known and unknown to man. He could make the repetitive nature of slaying the same enemy over and over again endlessly entertaining. He would often make mistakes, but never the same one twice. Rhea was order masking as chaos, he was chaos trying to be orderly.
She could watch him for an eternity.
“Phew, that was a long day!” Rhys remarked, practically collapsing upon the inn’s bed as soon as he entered the room. Little did he know, Rhea had already snuck a mild neurotoxin into the room that would only make him more fatigued. After all, he had to be in tip-top shape for adventuring tomorrow, and, well…
With Rhys out cold, Rhea spent a few hours staring intently at his unconscious body uninterrupted. It was a serene feeling, to be able to feel the air circulate around her, the smell of rain wafting through it. She didn’t have to stop time just to admire him in this state, the world could continue around her as she drank in his delightful form.
A particularly lewd thought crossed her mind. Rhys was sleeping alone, but his bed was a queen’s, built for two. The pristine whiteness of the sheets next to him called out to Rhea and the omnipotent goddess was struggling to resist their call.
Rhys may have been particularly clueless, but even he would probably be weirded out by a demon suddenly coming on to him. Sure, she could just make him fall in love with her… but that wasn’t natural. That didn’t happen because all the pieces fell into place—it happened because Rhea could just snap her fingers and reality would kowtow to her demands.
But this was like a loophole in her rationale. She could cuddle him and fondle him and love every inch of him and Rhys would be none the wiser—not that she actually loved him, or anything! This was simply a unique opportunity for a goddess of her caliber to experiment with. If something went wrong, she could just erase him from existence and start all over again… even though she really didn’t want to do that.
Descending slowly and carefully, she rested her voluptuous form on the sheets adjacent to him. Rhys was at the edge of the bed with his back turned to her, making for perfect spooning practice. Rhea’s breath was hotter than the depths of hell as the moment fully sunk in for her.
With the precision only a goddess could enact, she carefully wrapped her body around as much of his as she could. Once she had him tight in her grasp, Rhea clung to him like a terrified monkey to a tree.
While not physically holding him—the mere touch of a goddess would cause him to orgasm on the spot before eviscerating him from existence—the simulated touch of his skin was enough to convince the goddess’ mind about the sheer perfection of this situation. In a similar vein, the information of Rhea’s simulated touch was being registered in Rhys’ unconscious mind, filling it with a sense of serenity as he slept soundly. Come morning, he’d have no recollection of this, save for a lingering feeling of being loved by someone far away.
Rhea spooned him for the rest of the night, squeezing as much time out of the action as she possibly could. Once she sensed the rooster’s call on the horizon, she physically added additional space between the two of them, allowing the transition to be as seamless as possible. To Rhys, any recollection of this night would just be a strange dream.
To Rhea, it would be a dream to recollect every night for the rest of her infinite existence.
“Oh, hi there, Rheamon!” Rhys exclaimed before unleashing a long, powerful yawn. “Were you just… standing there the whole night watching me?”
“N-no! Idiot! Why would I spend ten hours staring at you?”
On a technicality, Rhea was right. She had only spent about five hours staring at him. Perhaps it was that slim nugget of truth that convinced Rhys to believe his fake demon compatriot, or maybe it was because he wouldn’t have thought much of it even if she had been watching him for that exact amount of time. After all, his mind was already set upon the next big adventure.
“No matter, Rheamone, let’s not waste prime questing time on unimportant squabbling!”
Rhys leaped out of bed, slipped into his low-level gear and was out the door in a flash. The barmaid at the entrance blew him a kiss as he left, one Rhys failed to even acknowledge. Of course, that didn’t stop Rhea from blanking her mind once he was out of sight, removing any instance of him from her thoughts, as well as her thoughts in general—just to be thorough.
This next quest was simple. Well, simple in name at least: slay the dragon at the top of the nearest mountain. The incline was a simple climb and the enemies were low-level, even Rhys had little trouble disposing of the nearby obstacles. Though that didn’t stop Rhea from sopping up what little experience and gold was dropped from these enemies.
“Sorry, Rhys, I’ve got no control over my absorption powers!” she’d frequently say, a smug four fingers over her mouth every single time.
But the enemies were low in level for a reason. The dragon that resided within this mountain hated any threat to his power. His keen senses could detect power levels, with only the weakest of enemies flying under it.
Rhys’ belief of his own internal strength was validated when the mountain erupted with a massive dull green presence. The dragon of the mountain flew by, his wuthering speeds nearly sending Rhys to the ground were it not for Rhea’s support in generating a counter-force.
The draconic force circled Rhys and Rhea in the sky like a hungry vulture before careening down gracefully and landing in front of them. Massive talons kicked up frightening amounts of dirt and grass, sullying Rhys’ outfit. The dragon’s massive form blocked out the sun as he stood before them, a large, toothy grin bearing deadly teeth as he eyed the sole adventurer.
“So, this is the pipsqueak that was making my senses go haywire,” the dragon’s deep voice echoed throughout the valley. “For a second there, I was on guard. I thought you’d be a threat. Looks like I might need to get my sixth sense evaluated by one of my many kidnapped elven shamans.”
“H-hey now! Don’t underestimate me, evil dragon! I can be a devastating force of nature if I need to be!” Rhys shot back, putting on his best brave face in front of the overwhelming danger before him. He pointed his sword toward the dragon, his poor stance faltering every few seconds.
The dragon snorted, the steam from his nose almost knocking Rhys over. “Very well, human. I will strip you of your worthless possessions one by one until you have nothing left. Only then, will I give you permission to die. I think I’ll start with—“
The dragon’s words were caught in his throat as he shot what should have been a nonchalant glance over to the human’s demon. The beast's entire body froze in place from fear, his blood running cold. His self-confident demeanor faltered completely, his smile melting into a sullen frown.
He now desperately wished that his senses were misinformed. The demon that stood before him, while his mind told him that she was just a rare summon, his power detector warned him that her level was simply incalculable.
“Y-y-y-y…” he sputtered pathetically, unable to get beyond the first consonant of his rapid-fire thoughts.
“That’s right. I’m a demon. A dragon’s natural weakness,” Rhea bluffed, knowing that the dragon would be far too terrified to call her out as she made facts up on the spot.
“Their weakness? Why exactly is that?” Rhys asked, genuinely curious.
“Uh, well it’s—“ Rhea stuttered, once again distracted by the cute face Rhys often adopted when he was confused. “Um, well since I have that attribute where I absorb gold and the like, that applies even if I’ve fallen in battle. Dragons know better than to bring even the tiniest sliver of me back to their lair. Isn’t that right, Mr. Dragon?”
An overpowering voice suddenly echoed within every corner of the dragon’s mind. “Listen here, you pathetic brute. If you play along with my ruse, I might just let you live. Step out of line once and you will leave no legacy, simple as that. Understood?”
The stone-faced dragon signaled both a mental and physical nod of confirmation to Rhea.
“Aha! He’s distracted! Good job, Rheamon!” Rhys shouted at the top of his lungs, ruining any element of surprise he may have gained. “Now it’s time for a surprise attack!”
He drew his Turquoise blade and lunged forward, striking the dragon true for pitiful single-digit damage. The stunned beast could have retaliated effortlessly, but decided that whatever minor scrapes Rhys was unleashing was far preferable to the incalculable amount of damage his “summon” could unleash with just a mere flex of her forearm.
Sure, Rhys would probably be here for a few days if he were to actually whittle the dragon’s health down to zero. Rhea was willing to wait, she was already blushing profusely at the simple cooperative compliment of “good job” from Rhys.
“Phew… huff… this guy’s tougher than I thought,” Rhys remarked aloud, panting and huffing as he continued to swing his sword at the dragon’s leg, his blade barely scraping past its mighty hide.
“Keep at it, Rhys!” Rhea shouted with fake words of encouragement, her desire to mess with the human returning in full force. “The weapon has a super special secret move that does extra crazy bonus damage if you hit it at a very precise angle! You’re already on the right track with your positioning!”
As he continued to whittle away at a prize that never was, a lingering sense of uncomfortableness arose within Rhea. The scheme was perfect—Rhys would look like a complete idiot wasting his time slowly killing the dragon who had no choice but to take it. If Rhys asked why it didn’t work, she could just say that Rhys never got the precise spot for a critical strike and laugh internally as he ate up the explanation like the good little fool he was.
Yet, Rhea wasn’t laughing. Her smile faded more and more with every “failed” swing at the dragon that Rhys took. Why was her mind doing this? Why couldn’t she simply enjoy the simple pleasure of watching a mortal make an idiot out of himself?
Why did she want to see that critical hit actually succeed?
The dragon’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen, reading the obvious conflict upon Rhea’s face. His mind may have been fast, but even a conflicted, unsure goddess’ mind was infinitely faster. As soon as the next metronomic strike of Rhys’ blade struck true, it suddenly became engulfed in blue fire. A searing pain erupted from the dragon’s arm, traveling throughout his entire body and engulfing all functions.
Because it was a “magic” critical hit, the dragon exploded into a burst of flaming confetti, littering the plains with multicolored paper that quickly reduced to ash.
Rhys didn’t even notice the fanfare, his eyes were Solely locked upon his sword with a sense of childlike wonderment.
“By the gods above, the critical hit actually worked! W-we did it! We actually slayed a dragon, Rheamone! Can you believe it!?”
“In some ways I can’t,” Rhea said, meaning every word of that response. “I suppose we really do make a dream team, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yep! One hundred percent!” exclaimed the adventurer. “I hope quests with luck like that never stop coming!”
“Maybe they won’t, Rhys,” Rhea remarked whimsically. “Maybe they won’t…”
The dragon would be the only major quest they’d accomplish that day. Swinging a large sword around aimlessly for well over thirty minutes was enough to tucker Rhys out. But he wouldn’t have to go on any more that day to break even.
To his credit, he found a clever way around Rhea’s exp-drain rules. He told the nearby town about how the dragon’s gold hoard was now unguarded and they were quick to offer him free meals, a room and board, and the best weaponry they could offer him with the surplus of wealth pouring into their little village.
He was the town hero, and Rhea couldn’t be happier for him. They paraded him about the square, all the while his demon compatriot watched by the sidelines, basking in none of the glory. After all, she had to ensure that no other women decided to come on to him, ready to blank the mind of any female-identifying creature that got even somewhat close to him.
With the party finally dimming around midnight, Rhys was more than tired. He and Rhea had been generously awarded the best lodging in the entire town. Rhys didn’t have time to appreciate the room, making a b-line for the bed and practically collapsing within it from exhaustion. He murmured drunkenly about something—a half-finished sentence that would have been lost on mortal ears—and Rhea knew exactly what he meant by that, her smile ear to ear as she could read him mind to find out exactly what he said as the overpowering grip of fatigue consumed him once more.
You’re the best summon I didn’t even know I wanted.
Needless to say, Rhea wasted no time getting all comfy next to Rhys. The serendipity of this mere mortal… It was too much for her. Certainly, it must be the quality of this inn’s bed, as it was far superior to the prior sleeping arrangements. But what was a change in mattress to a goddess who never needed to sleep? Who never felt fatigued?
Was Rhys really making her feel sleepy? Was the sense of comfort that he brought really that strong? Could she really allow her guard to be lowered to a point where she could forgo all of her godly duties and shut her brain off? No… that idea was simply too good to be true. In her infinite existence, something like this had never happened before. How was a mere mortal capable of surprising her like this? And how was a mere mortal so… soft? How was a… mere mortal so… comfy to where she could just rest her little head… against his firm back… and drift off into nothingness… without a care in the world…?
…
“Rheamone? Is that you? Are you cuddling me?”
The goddess awoke to the sound of Rhys’ confused voice with a startle. Daylight from the open window blasted her in the face. Had she—did she just fall asleep?! Had time just unconsciously passed her by for the first time since she had conceived herself into existence!? What the fuck was happening?! She stopped time! Not the other way around!
All these grand revelations and Rhea still had to bullshit some excuse for why she was still tightly clung to Rhys’ back.
“It was merely cold tonight!” Rhea replied, put on defense as she floated off of Rhys. “This human realm is much less heat-friendly than hell is! A-as if I would ever cuddle with you! You’re too stupid to know this, but it’s against policy for demons to sleep with their summoners!” Rhea nervously justified, putting up a veil of domineering anger knowing that Rhys would likely believe her.
But then, Rhys surprised Rhea with his knowledge. “But… that can’t be true, right? Demons are summoned all the time for sexual favors. I saw it in that summoning book.”
“I—well… uh-y-y’know it’s funny you should—“
Rhea was caught red-handed in a lie. Not only was Rhys right about that fact, but any retort would undermine her older lies. If she told him that the demon-summoning book was a fake, then he’d figure out that her status as a demon was falsified.
There was only one out that could possibly save face, and it was the last option Rhea wanted to take.
“You… you’re a really good cuddle partner, Rhys.”
Rhea could literally eviscerate every single other god without any effort on her part. As the thought crossed her mind, the multiverse shuddered. Reality itself was at her mercy.
So why was she allowing herself to be humiliated like this!?
Rhys continued to stare at his flustered summon, a blush slowly growing upon his face.
“S-say something already, idiot!” Rhea demanded. Usually, any command spat from her mouth would be instantaneously and efficiently obeyed, but Rhys struggled to speak a word other than “Woah…”
Rhea buried her face in her hands, but her blushing cheeks bled through all the same.
“Aww, Rheamone! If I knew you had feelings for me, I would have reciprocated them a lot earlier!”
“You… would have?” Rhea looked up from her hands with big, dopey eyes.
“Of course! You’re like, goddess-levels of sexy! Maybe even hotter than the gods themselves!” Rhys exclaimed, not knowing just how powerful his compliments possibly could be. “I mean, I haven’t actually seen any goddesses, but I’ve heard tales and seen paintings and they all pale in comparison to you!”
Rhea double-checked to make sure her aura was actually dimmed properly. She then triple-checked it. Was this mortal really in love with her for her? There was no goddess-enhanced aspect to this love, it was simply her standard beauty, her demonic persona and her “mild” help that made him infatuated with her.
She reached forward and held Rhys’ hands in her own, the facsimile of his rough skin contrasted with the perfect smoothness of her own facsimile. So much of this relationship was fake, predicated on lies and deception, yet Rhys’ passionate love seemed to be the only real part of it all—Rhea could feel that now.
Rhea wanted that genuine love more than anything and she had never “wanted” anything. Whatever she desired could be immediately achieved, or so she had previously thought.
Rhys’ hyperactive eyes darted back and forth between his locked hands and his demon’s loving expression. “We really do love each other then, don’t we?”
Rhea summoned all the power in existence to swap her face from an equally-flustered one to an expression of smug confidence. It marked a milestone for the goddess as the first time she had to put significant effort into anything in her life. But it paid off—now, she could transition this relationship from a switch to a dom, as an omnipotent being like she deserved.
“Mmm, well, if you love me so much why don’t you prove your might as a warrior to me…” she added a pregnant pause, the tension rising as she sultrily lifted a hand, only to slap it down on the mattress next to her, jiggling the entire frame as she did so. “…in bed.”
Heart pounding out of his chest and as adorably confused as ever, Rhys ran about in place for a bit before finally settling his brain on the bathroom. Even though he knew he would be in the nude, his first instinct was to disrobe in a different room. Not that it mattered anyways, there wasn’t a wall in or out of existence that Rhea couldn’t nonchalantly gaze through.
He managed to make it down to his underwear before he was stopped.
“Oh Rhyyyys…” Rhea’s voice cooed, calling upon him like a siren on the rocks. He left the bathroom only to find her now completely in the nude, her formal suit no longer hindering the imagination of her painfully sexy body. “Did you know… there’s a way for you to get some of the exp back, should you really, truly desire it.”
Both sides of Rhys’ brain were now overloaded with desire. The feeling of both finding legendary treasure and getting the girl simultaneously overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned in place.
“Wh-how-what can I do to g-get some of that exp back?”
Rhea demonstrated wordlessly, gripping one of her sizable breasts and squeezing at the nipple. A glistering green liquid secreted from the tip, its honey-like composition calling to him like the sweetest syrup that was.
“Demons’ bodies don’t exactly need breasts for milk, so they’re usually reserved for overflow storage. I have big, unyielding breasts, so I tend to store even more than I know what to do with.”
She squeezed a bit tighter—the drip of condensed liquid ran down the length of her breast, gravity threatening to waste Rhys’ rightful reward as it dangled precariously from Rhea’s underboob like a honeyed stalactite. Yet, Rhys’ stunned inaction would only torture him further. Instead of allowing the careless indifference of physics to handle the drop of pure exp, Rhea traced a slim finger along the underside of her breast, swiping up the secretion with it.
She began to lather her breasts with the condensed drop, enough power to befit a felled dragon reduced to a mere sheen atop her bountiful bosom.
“Mmm, so much precious, precious exp of yours. It makes great lotion for my luscious breasts. Not even the soothing chill of Aloe could compare to such a feeling. Maybe I’ll secrete some more to lube the rest of my body with and you can spend the rest of the day licking it off.”
Rhys was drooling at the sight of her, his desire plain to see with the well-pitched tent in his pants. He couldn’t wait any longer—neither could Rhea.
Rhea could barely stop Rhys from completely eviscerating himself upon contact with her as he leaped onto the bed with reckless abandon. This feeling… it was slowing her reaction speed. Just one missed simulation and reality itself would crumble around her. She couldn’t afford to be horny and yet, she would settle for nothing less.
What started as an aimless tackle by Rhys quickly turned into a full-body pin by Rhea. While her body was far smaller, she was like Thor’s hammer atop his body, with the hammerhead part being her devastatingly thick thighs. The brunt of them smothered his tortured member with an avalanche of demonic flesh. Rhys’ mind recalled the over-the-shoulder ride he had given Rhea two days ago, only it was a far more sensitive head of his being cushioned between her comforting monoliths of skin.
Rhea’s breasts pressed against his chest, arching her back and propping her head up high so that she could get a balcony’s view of his ecstasy. She slithered up his chest like a sensual snake, bringing her breasts closer and closer to his head, all the while the intensity of his member increased as it escaped the confines of her thighs only to be caught once more—this time within the firmness of her knees.
“Now it’s your turn, Rhys. I’ve gotten you this far…” Rhea wiggled herself closer to him, her breasts tantalizingly close to his face now. “Prove that you don’t need me to fight all your battles for you.”
Rhys took to her tits like a hungry calf. Even with his range of motion limited to only the neck, he was intensely dedicated to his task. This was a quest that only an adventurer such as himself could complete. As soon as the ambrosial taste of the exp struck a single nerve ending he was hooked. Each bite and gnash would certainly bring pain to a lesser woman’s more sensitive breasts, but Rhea was anything but.
“Hmm, not wide enough for my liking, Rhys.”
The disguised goddess then squeezed upon his cock with her knees, bringing him agonizing pleasure which only manifested as a muffled moan against her soft, supple flesh. His jaws opened wider, more of Rhea’s breast spilling into his mouth until he could fit no more.
It shouldn’t have felt this good. Rhea was a goddess of endless potential and time, she had done everything her mind’s eye could conceive, every lewd act under the sun—gender alteration, universe-wide orgies, planet-fucking, giving the human equivalent of consciousness to animals—so why had nothing up to this point felt as satisfying as the simple act of a mere human suckling upon her breast?
The pace was rapidly increasing, a tempo syncing between the two of them that was reaching its inevitable crescendo. Rhys was gnawing on her breast like a chew toy, barely able to swallow the exp faster than she could dispense it to him. Meanwhile, Rhea’s legs were matching his gulps in intensity as she passionately stimulated Rhys’ cock.
Their climaxes arrived simultaneously, the two lovebirds’ moans intertwining as their respective juices spilled onto the mattress. Rhys was spent. That was the greatest orgasm he had experienced in his life. The only difference not also shared with Rhea was that she’d never admit it.
The two lay in their fancy bed side by side, souls thoroughly zapped from their body. Tempered breathing was the only audio that filled the room—and Rhea didn’t even need to breathe.
She briefly considered the idea of rolling sideways so that she could cuddle with Rhys, only for him to actually beat her to it.
“Thank you, Rheamone. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He squeezed her lovingly. “I… feel strong now. Like, really strong.”
Shit, she may have lost herself in the depths of pleasure and bestowed upon him a bit too much. Surely, it was an extra two levels and nothing all that significant, right?
She glanced over at his stats. He was level 97. Most adventures his age were at level thirty.
“Wow! I bet I’m really high-level now! Those jerks back at the warrior’s guild couldn’t possibly resist accepting me in this state!”
“Oh, uh, n-no Rhys. You’re only level… uh, nine.”
She couldn’t have him thinking he was powerful! If he didn’t need Rhea as a crutch, maybe he’d… maybe he wouldn’t want her anymore…
Rhea shook the intrusive thought from her mind and comforted Rhys. He was looking pouty now. “Aww, so what if you aren’t as powerful as you thought. You’ll always have me, Rhys.”
That seemed to work. A half-smile grew on his face, only to fizzle away as soon as it had arrived. “It’s just… nothing, it’s all stupid anyways.”
“Oh Rhys, you can trust me with anything. Promise.”
The adventurer sighed, mulling the option over in his head. Rhea could have just read his mind, but she wanted the interaction to play out as seamlessly as possible. “I guess it’s just… I’m still small potatoes compared to the might of the big guild party that rejected me. I know you’re very powerful and we make a great team, but… no matter how many confidence boosts are thrown my way, in the back of my mind, I’ll always be just the same loser adventurer I’ve always been.”
At that moment, Rhea just wanted to grab both the sides of Rhys’ head and scream “YOU LITERALLY MADE THE GODDESS OF ALL GODS FALL MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU” directly into his face. But she couldn’t, all this time building up a flawless disguise and relationship only to throw it away for a minor self-esteem boost wasn’t exactly worth it in her eyes.
No, to make Rhys feel better, she’d have to do something he wouldn’t even know he wanted.
“Y’know Rhys, I think we should just sleep today away, hmm?” his demon lover asked with the sultriest of voices, sensually caressing his leg. “We’ve been at it for a few days and my little man deserves a well-earned break. A good nap and room service will certainly help to alleviate those anxious feelings within the back of your mind.”
Rhys found himself nodding at that prospect as his eyes glazed over. A little mild neurotoxin always did the trick. Of course, she wouldn’t technically be leaving his side while he was sleeping to sneak out and exact revenge upon those who wronged him—Only a version of her would be doing that. Her main goal today was exactly as she stated, lovingly cuddling her favorite person across all universes and timelines.
So while Rhys and Rhea slowly fell back asleep to the soothing sounds of mid-day atmosphere and the rhythmic tha-thump of Rhys’ beating heart, the real Rhea was hard at work.
She had done a little digging through Rhys’ brain, picking out faces and guild logos from key memories of his. Pretty quickly, she had an entire catalog’s worth of vengeance ready to enact upon a very particular guild only a few towns over.
A single step brought her all the way to the front entrance of the barracks, reality stuttering and fixing itself as the goddess carelessly walked through it. Despite the desire for blood in her eyes, she very politely knocked upon the imposing spruce wood that stood tall before her.
A hatch big enough for a pair of eyes to peer through opened up, a very gruff voice on the other side of the door speaking up. “Are you a temptress, demon? What brings you to this guild’s doors?”
“Me? No, just merely a messenger for a certain adventurer,” Rhea responded, playing up a cutesy voice befitting of her stature. “You may not remember his name, given how carelessly you tossed him aside when he requested to join your ranks.”
“Heed your next words carefully, demon spawn. That almost sounded like a threat to me.” The man on the other side responded, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh, it was a threat,” came a sudden voice behind him. He whisked around to see the demon standing before him. He expected the five other guards to also react with surprise, but they were all collapsed onto the floor behind her, their throats slit and singed. They were all alive mere seconds ago, somehow, this… creature had silently executed five of his best men in milliseconds. He didn’t even hear their bodies hit the floor.
“W-what are you!?” the horrified man could only sputter.
“Like I said, a messenger.” Rhea spoke nonchalantly as if the answer was obvious. “What you’ve seen here is but the prelude to my message.”
Thinking instinctively, the man frantically attempted to escape. The high security of the front gate proved detrimental as he desperately fumbled with the various locks and mechanisms designed to keep intruders out. After a painfully long minute of watching him try to free himself, Rhea piped up.
“Trying to leave? Here, let me help you with that.”
He turned around in fear only to be tapped on the nose with her finger. Unfortunately for the man, Rhea allowed for a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of her power to unleash itself within that “boop” action. The man was sent flying off, shattering through the door as if he had been fired from a supersonic cannon.
The sheer noise resulting from the nose poke was loud enough to wake every adventurer in the guild, and some with more sensitive ears woke up with blood streaking down their cheeks. Pretty soon, a small army of confused men had rushed down to the entrance, only to be greeted with a massacre at the front gate.
“Ah good, that looks like everyone,” Rhea spoke with glee, projecting her gorgeous voice across the common area. “Attention, members of the Falcon’s guild. Tonight, you perish as punishment. Punishment for failing to recognize the talents of an adventurer named Rhys.”
Most of the men had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter. Any man before her was a dead man for foolishly aligning with the same guild that had so harshly rejected her “summoner.”
Initially, she attempted to stick to a set of demon-like rules, only to abandon the premise altogether. Summoning horrific beasts and setting people’s individual organs ablaze got rather old fast. Pretty soon, she was generating weaponry from other eras and dimensions. Gunning down archers with an M1919 that looked comically large being wielded by her. Slicing through blade, armor and flesh with a laser sword from a year so far into the future it rivaled the digits of Pi.
Pretty soon, all that remained was the leader of the faction. Rather deliberately, Rhea had ensured that he would be the last to feel the wrath of god. Despite Rhea’s overwhelming offense, the leader still somehow saw himself in a position to make threats.
“Y-you bitch. We are employed by the king of Blackweld’s keep! Once news of this reaches him, he’ll unleash the full brunt of his militia upon you and your foolish summoner.”
Rhea simply cupped the man’s bloody cheek as if he were a child who had made a rather innocent mistake. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that. Soon, there won’t be a king for the news to spread to.”
Oh well, nothing but a few loose ends to tie up. Kings made a mockery of gods anyway, this tyrant should be grateful Rhea allowed him to rule for as long as he did.
She stepped over the leader of the Falcon’s guild, breaching reality to arrive at the grand castle of Blackweld. Of course, the leader didn’t make it out unscathed, as his body was caught in between a dimensional rift that split him clean in half. With the other half of his mouth 300 miles north with Rhea, he wasn’t exactly about to tell anyone about what had just occurred at his now-defunct guild.
“Wow, what a shithole,” Rhea remarked, already knowing how awful the castle looked from its conception. The once mighty castle walls crumbled and rotted as she approached them, tower guards suddenly finding themselves falling to their deaths. Sure, she could’ve just phased through the wall, but where would the showmanship be in that? No one had exactly warned these people about her arrival—so here was a warning.
Civilians screamed and ran as Rhea casually strolled up to the castle itself, ignoring all the crossbow fire from guards.
The plan was simple—kill the king immediately and go the fuck home. She was getting tired of splitting her attention between vengeance and precious cuddle time with Rhys. Not to mention, she really didn’t feel like telling him something along the lines of “I need to kill you because one of the many guilds you employed just so happened to reject the guy I have a serious crush on.”
She raised her hand, ready to turn the double doors of the throne room into wood chips. However, she paused once a particular sentence caught her ear.
“O’ Rhea, goddess of gods, spare us from this unholy wrath!” came a shaking, anxiety-riddled voice from within the room before her. “We have done nothing to incur this destruction! Please, give us a sign!”
“Hey.”
The king followed the feminine voice to the rafters, where he spotted the demon staring down at him, her glowing eyes piercing the darkness.
“Ack, b-back! Back you foul demon!” The king commanded, holding up his holy pendant and throwing salt before him as the creature slowly descended to floor level. “I have pledged my entire life to the goddess Rhea! And she will bless me with protection from the likes of you! I will not be deceived or misled!”
“Oh, so Rhea can do with you as she pleases, hmm?”
“Y-yes, you creature of evil!”
The last sight the king witnessed before an overbearing light consumed him was the horrifying hellspawn in front of him mutating beautifully into the visage of his one true god. It was unmistakably Rhea. Not even for a second did he question the legitimacy of what he saw—mostly because he didn’t even have a second to gaze upon his goddess before everything went white beyond white.
“Good, that’s one less life I have to feel a sense of guilt over,” his goddess’ voice boomed, ensuring that the dismissive phrase was the last utterance his conscious mind could conceive before every part of his existence was expunged from reality. The only remnant of the king was a shadow of dust on the wall behind him, or at least it would have been if that wall was not also eviscerated into unrecognizability from the sheer radiance of Rhea’s true aura.
With the king’s dramatic irony dealt with, she returned to her demonic form, finding fear far preferable to unquestionable reverence. The deed was done, Rhys could rest well knowing that he now possessed more power at his disposal than the so-called mighty guild that had rejected him. Dissolving her duplicate form, she returned to the serene bliss that was snuggling up next to her new favorite person in all of existence.
~
When the two of them awoke the next morning, Rhea was ecstatic to break the news. “Oh Rhyyyyyssss, guess what I did last night!”
She only sugar coated only what she absolutely needed to retain the demon illusion. This wasn’t a “horrid accident” like the shopkeeper in the first town they rode into. She let him know—on no uncertain terms—that she massacred an entire guild of adventurers as well as an entire king’s court.
Rhea had a big smile on her face the entire time, she waited for the moment when her lovely summoner would mimic her action. Rhys didn’t reciprocate it once.
“Rheamone… you-you killed all those people?”
“Well, yeah, of course I did! B-but Rhys, I did it for you! Now, they can never reject you again! That’s the price they paid!” Her smile was beginning to wane as well, her voice desperate to convince not only Rhys but herself that what she had just done was justified.
“But I didn’t want you to do that for me! I-I didn’t want anyone to die!”
Only then was the true horror of Rhea’s actions becoming clear to her. She had just crossed the line. Everything she had done up to this point was now moot. Sure, she could erase his memory, but then that genuine connection they’d have would lose a lot of its authenticity. Sure, she could just bring all those people back to life, but then she’d risk exposing herself as a goddess. There was no resurrection magic on any level other than godhood.
She was stuck between a rock and a hard place and now the walls were closing in.
“God, those warnings were right, I should have never summoned a demon,” he began to pace around the room frantically. “It was dangerous and reckless of me, and now hundreds are dead!”
“R-Rhys! It’s not your fault, it’s mine!” Rhea attempted to explain, tears welling up in her eyes. But Rhys wasn’t having it.
“No, no. You can’t help it. You’re a demon, bloodlust is simply in your veins. I should never have summoned you. I should never have let you follow me around. I… I should have never fallen in love with you. We’re done.”
It looked like it pained him as much to say that as it pained Rhea to hear it. But he stood by it, gathering his stuff and leaving the inn without Rhea in tow.
The goddess floated in the middle of the room, motionless. Once she was sure there was no one around to see her, she broke down into tears. She had never cried before. She never thought she’d need to. The first time she dared to live in the moment and it had all blown up in her face.
What was a goddess with nothing left to live for to do?
To be continued…
