Building A Clan

[Congratulations! You have bred (1) Infernians]

Trent gave a satisfied exhale as he gently tucked his member back into his Crimson Knight.

[Undeploy Invisibility Perk?] 

[YES] or [NO]

He selected [YES], and a bag of gems materialized in his grasp. He casually placed it on her chest, giving her boobs a little pat before retreating his hand.

The she-devil shoved the bag away, scattering the valuable contents on the ground. She sat up silently, attempting to cover her body with what remained of her Sentinel armour.

Trent shifted his gaze from watching his bird fly in circles to the Infernian beside him, who was dragging herself to her feet. He noticed the trail of his seed running down her sexy red legs as she turned away.

Trent couldn't help but re-[read] this indigene he had just lost his Paradox virginity to.

..

··

Name: Zhen-Nis

Race: Infernian

Role: Darth Assassin

Manifestations: Fifteen -·-ππ-·-

Beasts Tamed: None

Essenced equipments: One

..

..

"Zhen-Nis?" He pronounced her name wryly, loud enough for the Infernian to hear as she walked away in silence.

Trent noticed her tail had revealed itself, its spear-like end dropped and dragging on the ground, when devils usually had enthusiastic tails. Her red ass jiggled with each step, and Trent felt proud of himself for smashing such a creature.

She didn't turn when he called her name, continuing to advance, stepping out of the crater where they had engaged in an aggressive, sloppy, breeding exercise.

You're going to walk away as you came? What about who you came for?" Trent asked, sitting up.

Zhen finally stopped and turned, her black hair shielding her face. "I felt what you discarded into me," she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and pain. "I see the Essence you channel and the Manifestations that follow." She paused and grimaced. "Tell the Celestial Goddess that she has only deepened the Turmoil."

'What?' Trent thought. Before he could respond, she tapped the pendant on her necklace, the only Essenced equipment she seemed to possess, vanishing from sight into dust and wind.

Trent glanced around, jaded and confused. 'What did she mean by that?' he asked Claw, who had just perched on the top of his hoodie. He started to remember his purpose and the will of the goddess, whom the she-devil had just mentioned. Surely, she was going to spread the news about him to this Darth Society of hers and solidify the doubts of whoever had sent her.

Trent grunted and got to his feet, feeling a bit sour after just experiencing one of the best things in his life. He had forcefully fucked a she-devil and bred her, according to her words. He sighed and started towards the golden lights of streetlamps he could see far away, retracing his steps to civilization.

As he approached, he noticed a large gathering of indigenes around the destroyed inn, murmuring and chattering. Their sizes ranged from big to small, fat to slim, huge to petite—a collection of races.

They all turned to the source of the sudden surge of Mana they could feel in the immediate vicinity. There Trent was, walking down the cobblestone street to the inn's premises crowded with indigenes.

"Leave us! You Darths bring naught but trouble and chaos wherever your shadow falls!"

"Yeah!" the others chorused, rallying behind the random ogre that had growled the first sentence. Even indigenes peering from the windows of their homes hollered at the top of their voices.

Trent could see the minotaur bartender at the center of their gathering, his eyes glaring down with hate at Trent. "Whatever it is you seek within this clan, Sire, you will not find it here! Go trouble another vulnerable group, not the freefolk in these outskirts; we will not be pushed around by your ill-gotten Darth rights!"

The indigenes chorused a supportive growl, and they all manifested what Trent would describe as weak and unrankable channelled Essence, forming war tools in their hands—some with maces, while a few took the roles of archers.

Trent glared at them in disbelief, then at the head minotaur, Pana-agen. If this was his clan, then Trent had no option but to start his own Empire here. Did they really think their weak Essence could inflict any harm on him? Disgust and irritation swirled within Trent as he shook his head.

He casually manifested what he had before the devil, producing the same fire again and marvelling them all. Their eyes widened with murmurs as they began stepping back, those in the windows creeping into their rooms. Trent cleared his voice to address them.

"I won't beat around the bush. I'm going to tell you what I am and who I am," Trent proclaimed. "My name's fuckin' Nightingale, and I play the role of a freakin' Darth Assassin, sent down here by an extremely sexy glowing lady to restore this world into balance."

After a pause, he continued. "And I can and I will do that, with or without any of you fuckers! So, it's either you tag along into this clan of mine I'll forge right here, where I can make you richer than you can ever be in a million reincarnations, or choose your non-reincarnative fate!"

With eerie silence enveloping everyone after Trent's words, he slowly waved out the fire and stomped towards the inn, passing the cluster of Paradox indigenes to where Pana stood like a monster.

Trent passed Pana with Claw on his shoulder. "Get me some pork, a lil ale, and my brown elf as well," he said to him, opening the door with the chime of the bell.