Where the spawning pool had looked more or less like Logan had expected it to, the research altar did not.

Or, he supposed, the altar itself wasn’t too outside his assumptions; it was the pocket space. The room was practically a cathedral, a place of worship, black and purple spires—menacing, yet elegant—crawling up the edges of the square room, and at the center of the opulent architecture was a squat table, as ornate as the rest. 

“Perfect,” Aseri said. “Remember, unlock the crafting structures first. Loom, forge—”

“I know,” Logan said.

“We want to start classing our grunts as soon as possible.” The continuation seemed to be Aseri talking to herself, not a genuine attempt to remind Logan. She’d already gone over this with him, during strategy discussions. “People always underestimate how much the supply backbone matters. Doesn’t matter how many grunts you have, and what level they are, if they aren’t equipped and fed properly.”

Logistics wins wars, Logan thought. That had been an adage his world had figured out a long time ago. 

He stepped toward the altar. Before questing out to link to it—and seeing what it had to say—he checked on the core.

[

Core of Eros
Mana: 8.9k/50k
Tier: 1

[

Having five squads of three—he’d spawned six more goblins, up to a tier one core’s maximum of 15—working away at their respective tunnels had meant a steady flow of stone to the core. His mana was reflecting it. 

Though, he suspected 9k was hardly anything at all. 

He delved into the research altar’s pseudo-consciousness, allowing it to shove a list of all the available structures into his mind. He scanned through them. Aseri had painted a picture of what would be available, so there was nothing too shocking. 

The more … core-specific items … available weren’t surprising either. Logan had well adjusted himself to what would be coming.

[Tentacle Trap]: Catch an unsuspecting passerby and envelop them in a writhing grip of plantlife. Gain 350 mana and deal 18 damage for every second a foreign entity is captured.

350 mana per second. This was what Aseri meant by adventurers being the best possible source of mana. Three seconds of this trap working, and that’s an hour of feeding the core stone. Not that feeding rock into the core was an efficient mana source, but, what was that? A thousand times the efficiency?

All it would take was two minutes of a single adventurer being caught by that trap for him to have enough mana to advance to a tier two core. 

“What comes with tier two, anyway?” Logan asked.

“Dunno,” Aseri said. “Population increase, obviously. More grunts. Larger mana cap. But Avatar skills?” She shrugged.

He’d have to wait and find out. He wondered if it was standardized—or if the skills he received would be related to his core’s specialty. And if so, what that would entail.

“The prices are steep,” Logan said. “Five thousand for each of the crafting stations.”

“Oh. Huh. Guess that makes sense. Start with the forge. Armor and weapons are most important.” She paused. “You were at 9k, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s been a while,” Aseri said. “There’s an easy way to close the gap, unlock the next station, too.”

Logan blinked, and it took him a second to understand what Aseri was implying. 

“Oh,” he said. “Figured it’d be a day cooldown.”

“Might be a few hours,” Aseri said. “Never know. Worth testing. You know, for thoroughness’s sake.”

“Right.”

Aseri swayed over to him. She has to be doing that on purpose. She had a natural grace when she moved, even as a default, but the mesmerizing rhythm now was completely different.

She approached him with a smirk on her lips, and Logan couldn’t help but retreat a few steps at her predatory gaze. He hit the altar and stumbled, falling onto it. Aseri’s grin widened, delighted that her confidence was having the intended effect.

“Plus,” she said casually, “maybe the reason it fizzled is because we did the same thing twice. We should … try something else.”

That should be tested separately, Logan thought, but didn’t say. If they tried ‘something different’ after so many hours, and it ended up giving full—or more—mana than the first handjob, then it could be either that they were doing something new or that the cooldown had ticked over. It would be a poor test of the core’s mechanics.

But Aseri knew that. The half-day he’d spent in her company had demonstrated her as an analytical mind. She just wants to do more, and wants an excuse. The realization had Logan’s heart rate picking up. What does ‘more’ mean?

Aseri finished approaching him—he’d tripped over the altar, and was now seated on it. The intricate designs were uncomfortable, but also the last thing on his mind.

She climbed on top of him, draping her arms across his shoulders, and leaning forward until her face was mind-stoppingly close to his.  Her proximity—her scent—commandeered his brain entirely. She smelled like earth and sweat. Not the most enticing of smells, but expected, considering their day, and it intoxicated him regardless. Her vibrant, teasing orange eyes held him like a snare. 

The press of her ass into his stiffening cock … also did.

He noted for the first time how sharp her incisors were. She had a devilish smile; vicious, even. The easy confidence of a panther. 

“So,” she said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll let you pick. What do you want to do with me?”

“Kiss you.” The words escaped before he could think better of them. She’d intended, with all her sensual swagger, to turn his brain off—and she’d succeeded.

She leaned back, eyes widening. Logan realized his hands were on her hips. He didn’t remember moving them there.

A silence, in which Logan’s better senses started to return, and he feared he’d said something wrong.

But then Aseri blushed, and looked away. “Well. I guess I gave you the option.” She looked back, and there was the first hint of hesitance in her eyes. 

Logan pulled her closer, by the waist, pressing her body into his. 

Aseri leaned forward.

He took her mouth with his. 

For a few moments they kissed, soft, and tenderly. Aseri’s hands explored his hair, and gripped his horns—something he’d almost forgotten about—using them as handles. Logan’s hands stayed on her waist. He had fully stiffened—had been for a while—and the pressure of Aseri’s ass on his lower half, through their clothing, was distracting. But the soft press of her mouth was somehow so much more thought-erasing.

Then the kiss lost its chaste intimacy, and Aseri pried her tongue into his mouth. Logan returned the eagerness. 

Logan’s hands dipped from her waist to her ass, cupping her, and somehow dragging her closer to him. Her breasts pressed into his chest. Aseri had taken his face in her hands. 

She separated, breathing heavily, eyes hazy with lust.

“So,” she breathed, her voice husky. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

A pause as he digested the words. 

Then he stood, picked her up, and pushed her onto the altar.