Mud still clung to my calves when I left the ruins of the village.
Behind me, the two tribal MILFs had collapsed into the mud, kneeling, their damp bellies still swollen with my seed. They pressed their trembling hands against their lower bellies, as if to hold inside the spark I had left them. Their heavy breasts shook with every sob, their tears ran silently, but their lips whispered only one thing: "Apostle… Apostle of Lust…"
I hadn't dared look at them any longer. I can't… not yet… I'm not a messiah. Not a fucking prophet. Just a guy who wants to survive.
When night fell, I had walked a few hours before arriving in a forest that swallowed me almost instantly.
The air was heavy, saturated with humidity, sap, and rotting moss. Every step cracked branches, every rustle made my skin crawl. Bare-chested, the seal glowed faintly on my chest, pulsing like an ember beneath my skin. I felt its beat biting down into my kidneys, a constant reminder of what it demanded of me.
I raised my eyes to the dark canopy, where the moon tore into rags through the branches. My breath caught in my throat.
Quick… I have to find a town. Women. More. Each womb filled = more strength. If I linger, I'm dead.The logic was relentless. Sex was no longer just a drive, it was a weapon, a key to survival. The seal fed only on it. As long as I impregnated, I had a chance. If I stopped… I was done.
A new sound split the night. Not the breath of an animal, nor the crack of a branch. A glow. Trembling. Red and yellow.Flames.
I crouched instinctively behind a moss-covered trunk. The air vibrated, and soon the sound reached me: a deep, repeated, throbbing chant, like church liturgy twisted by madness.
And then I saw them.
They advanced in procession between the trunks, torches raised above their white hoods. Their robes were stained with mud and dried blood, their bare feet crushed thorns without flinching. At every step, their voices rose, forming a litany of purity:
"Purify the men. Purify the souls. Purify the world of Lust."
My blood froze. I knew those symbols. That cadence.
The Church of Purity.
The rival.
The virgin, frigid Goddess, worshiped by those fanatics who preferred to see humanity die out rather than tolerate a player soiling the world with his sperm. To them, we were heretics, demons disguised as men. They took no prisoners.
Their torches crackled in the night, casting flashes on their faces. And what I saw churned my stomach: white tattoos, drawn with incandescent iron, still burned on their skin. Crosses and runes of chastity carved into their flesh like stigmata. Pain exalted them. They sang until their throats ripped, their eyes rolled back, their teeth chattered with fever.
I pressed myself against the bark, my heart pounding so hard I feared they'd hear it. The seal on my chest throbbed, ready to awaken, but I clutched it with both hands.
Not now… if I unleash its red light, they'll see me.
I closed my eyes for a second, but the voices still rose. Grave, hysterical, full of sacred hatred. Their refrain ripped through the forest.
I stayed crouched behind the trunk, holding my breath, my bare chest plastered to the sticky bark. Sweat ran in rivulets down my sides, lingering in the hollow of the glowing seal that pulsed on my chest. Each beat vibrated against my ribs like a war drum. Shut up, dammit… But the mark lived, impatient, ready to betray me.
The silhouettes approached, white robes swept by the nocturnal wind, torches raised like blazing crosses. And they weren't men.
Their faces revealed in the light of the flames: women, young and older, their skulls sometimes shaved, sometimes veiled, but all marked with white scars. On their arms and thighs I saw the stigmata of heated iron, runes of chastity carved directly into the flesh. They advanced barefoot in the mud, chanting the same litany:
"Purify the men. Purify the souls. Purify the world of Lust."
I crouched lower still, but my heel, tense, struck a dry branch.
Crack.
All the torches turned at once. Dozens of eyes locked on me. A short silence, then a voice rose, hysterical:
— "There!" one of them screamed. Her torch pointed at my bare chest. "The seal! The mark of Lust!"
A shiver ran through the procession, followed by a chorus of cries.
— "He's an envoy!"
— "An apostle of fucking Lust!"
— "Soul-defiler, show your face!"
Their eyes gleamed with icy fanaticism. No doubt: they had recognized me. Not a simple man. Their absolute enemy. The messenger of the Goddess they wanted erased from the world.
I leapt from my hiding place, legs splashing mud, and began to run.
The forest twisted around me. Branches scratched my bare skin, whipped my ribs, tore at my arms. My breath stuck in my throat. Behind me, the choir of fanatics burst into screams. It was more than a hunt, it was a living exorcism.
— "Burn this heretic!"
— "Rip open the impure prophet!"
Their voices rose, a clamor of religious choir and enraged pack. The torches burst between the trunks like unleashed flames, each step pounded the mud like a funeral drum.
The seal throbbed against my sternum, ready to explode in red light. I felt the heat rising, coursing under my skin like an open forge. But I knew: if it flared here, I'd become a crimson beacon in the night. The whole forest would see me.
Not now. Not here. If I activate it, I'm fucked.
I ran faster, my muscles seizing, my nostrils swallowing the air heavy with sap and cinders. Behind me, the screaming fanatics gained ground. Their chants no longer sounded like prayers: it was a hysterical trance, half insults, half invocations.
The forest opened suddenly. I burst from the tree cover and my legs nearly gave out. In front of me, the ground dropped away: a sheer cliff, split in the rock, plunging down toward a black torrent. The water roared in the depths, a foaming, icy mass, ready to crush anyone who leapt in. The din resonated in my chest like a death drum.
I spun around, panting. The fanatics were already there. Dozens of torches burst from the darkness, brandished like a wall of fire. Their white silhouettes stood out against the flames, robes fouled with mud, ash, and dried blood. They advanced in cadence, eyes rolled back, mouths twisted in furious chants.
— "The impure Apostle!" they screamed in chorus, their shrill voices shredding the night.
Their torches lit my bare chest, the glowing seal that beat like a second heart. From their fanatical stares, I knew I had no chance of negotiation. To them, I was already condemned.
A moment of panic strangled me. My clenched fingers opened and closed on nothing, as if searching for a weapon, an escape, any other option than the one before me. My breath turned ragged.
If I surrender, they'll tear me apart. They'll burn my seed, cut open my belly to erase even my cum. If I jump, I die…
I stepped back. The void already pulled at me.
…Choose, asshole!
My legs coiled on their own. I turned and jumped.
The void tore a scream from me. Wind roared in my ears, flaying my skin, and in a fraction of a second, the world flipped. The glow of torches vanished, replaced by the abyss. Then came the impact.
Icy water swallowed me like a jaw. The torrent closed over me, roaring, crushing me from all sides. My chest exploded with pain, air burst from my lungs in a spray of bubbles. The burn of cold bit into my bare skin, pierced my muscles to the bone.
I tried to rise, but the current dragged me down, spun me like a broken doll. My arms flailed, my legs thrashed, but each movement pulled me deeper. My throat tightened, my mouth opened against my will: a gulp of icy water shredded my windpipe.
Everything went black.
~
A warm breath slid through my throat, and at first I thought it was the water still burning my lungs. But the water was gone. The roar of the torrent too. Only that scent remained… heady, floral, sweet, almost suffocating.
My eyes opened with effort. Above me stretched a carved wooden ceiling, crossed by living vines glowing softly, as if imbued with luminous sap. The whole world still rocked around me, each detail carving a dull migraine into my skull.
I tried to move and only then realized I was naked, lying in a bed of leaves and silk, my skin sticky with moisture. The sheets exhaled that heavy scent of wildflowers, mixed with a more animal, almost musky odor, that made me shiver. I put a hand to my chest: the seal still throbbed, faint, glowing like an ember in the middle of my skin.
I pushed myself up with difficulty. The muscles in my arms trembled, my loins ached as if I'd been beaten. Yet a lingering heat filled my belly, that fire I knew too well, that insistent reminder of what my body had to accomplish.
Light noises filtered through the walls. Bare footsteps, muffled laughter, the rustle of fabric. Everything felt too clear, too sharp after drowning. My senses were raw, every smell, every sound cut through me like a blade.
I slipped from the bed, the leaves rustling off my naked skin, and staggered to an opening. The floor beneath my feet was not stone, but a weave of thick roots, polished like worked wood.
I pushed a light panel and the brightness blinded me.
A perfumed breath of air caressed my skin. I took a step forward, then froze.
Before me, the world opened… suspended.
I was high, very high, in the branches of a gigantic tree. Walkways of vines crisscrossed, linking countless cabins carved into living wood. The air thrummed with the songs of strange birds and the murmur of water cascading through the bark. The canopy sparkled, cut by golden rays, and everywhere, along the walkways, slim silhouettes moved.
I froze, naked, my chest incandescent with the mark, as they were already staring at me. Women. All women. Their long hair shone like streams, their skin was smooth, damp with dew. Their ears, fine and elongated, peeked from their shining locks, sharp as delicate blades, quivering at the slightest breeze. Their clothes… if one could call them clothes, were only translucent silk veils, clinging to their hips and breasts in the jungle's humidity. Their gazes were strange, both curious and envious, their lips parted as if to let a silent prayer slip through.
My heart leapt in my chest.
— "No…" I whispered, incredulous. My eyes darted from face to face, from a pair of bare thighs to the curve of a back revealed by sheer fabric.
I stumbled back a step, suffocating.
— "No, no, no…" My voice broke into a strangled rasp. "I'm… in the fucking village of elf-nymphs."
I ran a hand over my face, but my fingers trembled, unable to erase the truth. In front of me, dozens of perfect bodies, half-elf, half-nymph, watched me. And behind their strange smiles, I already saw something older, more dangerous than mere carnal desire.
— "Holy fuck…" I let out, my legs suddenly weak. "What the fuck kind of start is this?!!!"