Huh.

So she was actually going to do this?

Now, don’t get her wrong. Fantasizing over someone, like Katia had said, wasn’t exactly the most depraved thing a person could do. Hardly a perverted act at all, really, when stacked up against, well, anything the remotely adventurous did. As vanilla as it got.

But in this exact situation? With all of the context accounted for?

At a minimum, it was pretty fucking weird.

Katia had explicitly given permission for Vella to fantasize over her body, sure, which, one, was pretty fucking hot, but also two, felt kind of slimy considering it had only happened because her class was holding them hostage.

But what choice did she have?

She’d been given a set of tools to work with, and the Tower wasn’t a place you could scorn such things. Even Katia knew it.

So …

Guess she was doing it?

Vella had been in a few awkward situations in her life, but she could proudly say never something like this. Something somehow … as bizarre as it was mortifying.

“I-I don’t think you need to watch,” Vella said. “It’s going to, um, you know.” She gestured down at herself. Get hard, she didn’t say, hoping Katia could pick it up.

But Katia only stuck her chin in the air. “Believe me, I’d rather not. But I’ll be making sure there’s no funny business.”

No … funny business? “It’s not like I’d touch myself,” Vella said, her turn to shoot Katia a disgusted look. 

“This could have been over already. It's not so complicated a task. If you don’t mind?”

Fine. 

Whatever. If Katia wanted to watch her dick get hard, that was on her. To think she’d been the one called a pervert.

So.

Get it over with.

Vella finally let her eyes, thus adamantly locked with Katia’s out of politeness, slide down her naked body.

She’d only gotten stolen glances so far, despite Katia’s accusations of staring. So finally getting to take in her body in full, not immediately forcing herself to look away, was …

Uh, pretty awesome.

The only thing that could remotely be called a flaw – not by her, mind you, but by certain idiots – was that her tits were on the smaller side. Vella sympathized with that; while not a guarantee, losing size in your chest was almost bound to happen if you tried to stay in lean fighting shape. 

But small as they might be, they were still fucking incredible. Cute and perky, a great shape. Not enough to grab a handful, which was a downside she’d admit, but enough to play with. And thanks to the chill in the air, her nipples stood painfully on display. 

Something hot was building in her stomach, and she could feel herself stiffening. She didn’t fight it, this time. It was an … unusual experience, for obvious reasons. 

Not a bad one. 

Her heart rate was picking up, too. The widening in Katia’s eyes, and the way she glanced away almost by instinct at Vella’s growing member – then forced her eyes back, then up to meet hers,  as if a challenge, proclaiming no, she wasn’t embarrassed by any of this.

Was … pretty fucking hot.

“Taking your time, aren’t you?” Katia asked, and Vella could hear a slight shake in her voice.

Also hot.

Vella’s eyes continued down, eating in the sight.

Her stomach. Those perfectly sculpted abs she'd wanted to rub her face against earlier,  glistening with leftover sweat from the previous hour's adventures.

Her dick twitched.

Maybe it wasn't her face she wanted to rub against those hard ridges ...

She wondered what that would feel like … her dick grinding against …

Vella had to fight the sudden urge for her hands to go to her cock. It was practically begging for relief.  This was … more overwhelming than she'd thought it would be.

Her heartbeat slammed in her ears.

This is … seriously intense, the still-rational part of her brain said. Hurry up. Stop lingering.

She genuinely worried over what she might do, if she didn't; the heat pulsing through her stomach and cock was so much stronger than she'd thought it would be.

Okay. Get this over with.

Thankfully, the choice for fantasy was obvious. Vella couldn't get enough of those abs. She imagined sliding her cock against them, the bumpy friction, the slipperiness her sweat would provide.  Katia's embarrassed face and the way she'd protest, call her a pervert, all without being able to meet her eyes. 

She triggered {Empowering Gaze}, feeling a tug somewhere in her stomach, then tore her eyes away from Katia's body.

Stalked away.

Cold water. She needed something cold to pour on herself, to calm down. Her skin felt genuinely scalding; burning to the touch.

She uncapped one of their recently acquired canteens and poured it over her head.

Combined with the chill of the safe room, it helped. A bit.

She rubbed her face clear and pointedly avoided looking in Katia's direction, trying to steady her galloping heart. And trying to think chaste thoughts, get her now very enraged cock in calming down. The obvious way of taking care of it was – well, off the table.

Much as it pained her.

Think gross thoughts, Vella.

“Oh my gods,” Katia said.

Vella seized the distraction. “What?”

“That’s … incredible.”

Whatever had caught Katia’s attention had done an excellent job in making her forget her embarrassment; the fluster from her cheeks had all but disappeared – though Vella supposed from her perspective, not much had really happened – and her brow was furrowed down in confusion or surprise.

“What is?” Vella asked.

“Your spell. I know priestesses are some of the strongest enhancers in the world, but …”

Right. She’d been curious how effective it would be. For all the hassle and awkwardness involved, it better be worth it.

And long-lasting, for that matter. It’d be … rather awkward … if that was something they’d need to be repeating every ten minutes.

And also something Vella wouldn’t be able to handle. Not without finding a way to relieve herself … which she doubted would be possible, considering close proximity was going to be a necessity. Couldn’t exactly wander off for some private time, not in the Tower.

“What’d it do?” Vella asked. The skill description had been vague; only that it ‘increased the target’s primary stat’. For a duelist, she assumed that would be dexterity, or maybe speed. “How much, I mean?”

"Twenty six points."

Significant, by Katia's reaction, but how much so?

Stats were one of the things Vella didn't fully understand about the Tower's design. Thanks in part to the fact no one really did.

Not the basics: she knew a higher number was better, and that every one hundred points you broke into a new letter grade. That much was factual, and worked the same for everyone. 

But the specifics, she meant.

Like, what 'one point' meant, realistically speaking.

Because experiments had been conducted: the person with a higher strength stat wasn't guaranteed to be stronger than the person with a lower. A person with a higher grade was almost certain to be, but even then, only almost certain. The one thing that could be said absolutely was that as the number went up, so did the person's respective influenced traits.

But even then, how much?

One percent? Some objective, linear amount of 'strength', using a unit or standard the Tower had defined? Something else?

But then why did some people grow faster, some slower, even with the same stat increase? Gender or biology? Women were weaker, strength-wise, even accounting for increasing stats, so that argument had some merit. But still: many exceptions. Class, then?

Luck?

Who knew?

Maybe the Sovereigns did, with all their hoarded wealth and secrets, but certainly not the delvers scrounging in the dirt. Not Vella.

Maybe Katia did; she had a haughtiness that suggested nobility. Generationals were rarely nobodies. They had a habit of either dying off or climbing to staggering heights, after all.

"Twenty six," Vella said. "That's a lot?"

Katia quirked her eyebrow, an action Vella had by now come to realize meant she'd done something stupid. They were both, at this point, steadfastly ignoring the previous minute’s events – and the fact Vella’s cock still stood angrily on display. It’d probably be a bit before it calmed. "The rapier from earlier only provides three. So what do you think?"

"But practically speaking, how much of a difference does it make?"

Katia pursed her lips. "Puts me three levels ahead? Assuming standard progression. So … the strongest low level enhancement spell I've ever heard of."

"T-That good?"

Katia nodded.

"How long does it last?" Vella asked, dreading the answer.

Katia held up her wrist and tapped on it. Vella saw only skin, but she knew Katia's interface lay there, hidden to her eyes.

"Forty-five minutes," Katia said.

Vella groaned.

Any chance she wouldn’t be expected to keep it refreshed?

 

---

 

Vella crunched the wooden knot of her staff into the growling, rotted-flesh ghoul clawing for her face. It met with the satisfying sound of crumpling bone -- and the creature dropped like a rock.

If there's one good thing to be said about fighting undead, Vella thought, staring distastefully down at its form, it's not having to deal with blood.

The monsters of the gothic castle she and Katia had found themselves in were gaining coherence as they traveled down and through the Cascade. Becoming more … elegant.  Fuller. No longer sacks of shambling bones, the undead trying to rip them limb from limb resembled more and more their living counterparts: whether it be human, orc, al'aranid, or any other of the many sentient races inhabiting the Serenity.

Which had concerning implications for what the future looked like. Vella might not have a problem smashing in the faces of clearly monstrous ghouls, but the more they started to look like people, the less comfortable she got with the whole thing.

Still, all things considered --

"This is easier than I thought it would be."

Katia shot an irritated look over her shoulder, like she always did when Vella spoke outside a safe zone. Militantly pragmatic, this partner of hers was.

"We're only on the third floor. Of course it's easy."

"Third means second to last, potentially." Cascades were always broken into four to nine floors. "For how much I'd heard about the Tower, I really thought I'd be in worse shape."

"I'd call you an idiot for tempting fate," Katia said, glancing up, as if at the Tower itself. "But I doubt the Tower's taken offense, seeing how the first Cascade isn't meant to be some kind of culling ground. The statistics you've heard are almost entirely from the third, not the first."

The third Cascade; the soonest one could find their way back to the Serenity. Where this wild ride would be ending for Vella.

"Still," Vella said.

"Still nothing,” Katia shot back. “The first Cascade is a primer, nothing more, regardless of exaggerations you've heard from so-called delvers barely qualified to tie their own shoes." She sniffed, then to finish off the spout of arrogance, "Not to mention you've lucked into an exceptionally competent teammate."

"I have?"

"And a powerful class, however distasteful it might be."

Vella supposed that was true, too. 

Just, why did it have to be such a weird one? She was terrified to see what the future held. Nothing too crazy, right? Or degenerate?

Ah, who was she kidding. Her patroness was the literal goddess of sex. Not that Eros actually existed – just a thematic invented by the Tower – but still. 

She didn't want to think about it. If the Tower thought it was going to devolve her into some kind of hedonistic lifestyle, it had another thing coming. She’d suffer through these fantasization sessions out of requirement, but if something more came, as she leveled? Absolutely not.

"You aren't using your skills effectively," Katia said suddenly. "Since we're apparently deciding to make small talk, I might as well mention it."

Vella found Katia's definition of small talk highly questionable, but didn’t say so. "How? I'm doing something wrong?"

"{Patroness: Eros}. I remember reading: 'Grants increased spellpower while aroused'." Katia cleared her throat. "It's pretty obvious to tell you haven't been," she waved vaguely in Vella's direction, not willing to finish the statement. “You know.”

"Getting myself hard?" Vella asked flatly. 

"Well. Yes. It's the practical thing to do."

"With all of this going on?" Vella asked, gesturing at the littered corpses. Maybe she could handle it in a regular fight, weird as it would be, but against undead? “You can’t be serious.”

Katia blinked, as if just becoming aware of what surrounded them.

"Ah. I didn't even consider it. Desensitization was part of my training." She nudged the ghoul next to her. "Doesn't even register as something I should be disgusted by."

Vella blinked. 

That was … kind of sad, actually.

But at least Katia’s had been intentional, Vella supposed, with guided intent and watchful oversight. All of Vella's desensitization had come, well.

Naturally.

Part of growing up where she had. Southside district fourteen … such a charming place.

"It'd be an exceptional class for a sadist, wouldn't it?" Katia said. “It’s a shame you aren’t.”

A laugh ripped from Vella at the unexpectedness of the statement, and at how Katia's tone hadn't suggested it was a joke.

"What?" Katia demanded. "It's true."

"I suppose it is," Vella said mirthfully. “I suppose it is.”