Chapter Fifty Two: A Listening Ear…

Greg looked around at the empty room he now stood in. It wasn’t the largest room in the infirmary, but it was up there. The healer had told him that he could pick whatever tools and furniture he needed from the other rooms in the infirmary. Greg, however, had no such plans. With the Eros shop and the amount of lust points he had, he could easily furnish a room ten times larger than this one. He had so many ideas going through his head that it took an effort of will to just stand there and study the room. He didn’t want to jump the gun and buy things that would in the long run turn out to not be that useful or practical. No. If he planned this out just right, this room would end up being the perfect den of lust.

Greg still couldn’t believe that this was the result of being honest with the healer. Even more than the fact that she would be angry with him, Greg had been afraid that he would hurt the healer’s feelings. She had already been hurt by people close to her before and the last thing that Greg wanted was to be numbered among the people that had hurt her. His fears versus the actual results of his honesty, however, couldn’t have been any further from each other. Not only did she not react negatively to his news, but the healer went above and beyond that and gave him several gifts to help him along.

This room was the first one, Within the rest of the infirmary, Greg was a student of the healer. He would have to do and abide by what is required of him by the healer. Inside this room, however, Greg was free to do whatever he pleased and the healer wouldn’t bother him. This was part of the reason why it would have been impossible to maintain what he was doing as a secret from the healer for too long. Eventually, the townspeople would have started to come to visit him in the infirmary. If he hadn’t been honest, he would have been in a rather awkward position when the time came. After being truthful with the healer, however, this was her way of helping him establish his legitimacy as a healer. Once he stopped making home visits, he could receive his ‘patients’ inside this room.

The second thing that the healer gave him was her backing in the agreements he made. Both retroactively and going forward. This came about after Greg revealed what was going on between him and Shalia and the agreement between him and the Town-head’s wife. In other words, She agreed to help him in keeping his promise to Shalia and her mother by keeping the Town-head and his family safe after they lost power. Also, going forward, so long as he consulted her either before or immediately after, he could use her name as backing should any of the three families or even the Town-head, try to manipulate or coerce him. So long as it wasn’t in support of anything too unreasonable or cruel, Greg could even use her name to enter into agreements with any of the families. The healer had been careful to inform Greg that, while she didn’t care all that much what happened to the town or the people in it, she also wasn’t inclined to cause any unnecessary suffering. Greg had promised to consult with her before he made any agreements in her name, not that he could see himself doing so. He wasn’t interested in involving himself in the politics of the town. The healer had nodded, content with this arrangement.

The last thing that the healer gave him was a whole set of enchanted metal disks the size of large coins. While they were the size of large coins, each one of them had a different shape, probably for ease of distinction. While they seemed to have been made from some silvery metal, from the fine, sigil-like inscriptions on their faces, Greg could tell that they weren’t currency of any kind. Each of them was a one-use item with a specific purpose. The first, a circular-shaped one, was a mana shield from a third-tier mage. The second one, square in shape, was packed full of her healing mana, enough to bring him back from the brink of death. The third token, hexagonal in shape, carried a single attack at the level of a third-tier mage by the healer. The final token was star-shaped and when activated, would act like a calling card as it would allow the healer to teleport to wherever the token's position was.

While Greg appreciated the healer’s generosity all the same, she had made it clear that the enchanted tokens were given purely out of a selfish need on her part. Greg was her only hope and chance at starting over. While she didn’t plan on interfering with his plans, she knew that he was playing a dangerous game. Should what he was doing ever come to light, Greg would be in danger of serious harm from the men of the town. Whether Greg was in the right or the wrong, She didn’t care at all, but under no circumstances was she going to allow him to lose his life. While the tokens weren’t to be used willy-nilly, the healer had insisted that, as soon as he suspected that he was in actual danger, Greg was to use them immediately.

With a final scan of the room, Greg moved to the door. After his willpower training with Olivia, he’d have a lot of planning to do tonight. For now, however, he had something much more important to do…

***

Alena looked up from the workstation she’d been working on since the boy left. She couldn’t help but look to the mouth of the cave to judge the current time. She knew that she could lose track of time when she was engrossed in her work, hence the need to confirm. Judging by the angle of the rays of the sun coming in from the mouth of the cave, however, it was only halfway to their next appointment. Which was why she was understandably confused when the boy emerged from the teleportation room hidden behind the wall of the cave.

Noting the small smile playing on his lips, Alena was put at ease judging that, at the very least, it wasn’t bad news that brought her student around earlier than expected. She had expected him to approach her directly and raise whatever issue it was that had brought him over. Roka, however, didn’t approach her workstation. Alena watched as the boy moved close to where her fireplace on the leisure side of the cave was.

Alena’s brows rose high, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the boy’s left mid-finger when he pulled out a large, colorful mat from seemingly thin air. It wasn’t a very high-quality one, but there it was, a storage ring on the boy’s hand. No one in the town could have possibly made it, they wouldn’t even know where to begin in doing so. Of the few storage rings that she’d managed to make her escape with, none was a low-grade tier-one. Besides, all her storage rings were magically encrypted to only allow her access. This left only one possible source for the magical item. The familiar. Now that she thought about it, this shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise, after all, just a few months prior, the boy had had a hive scroll and several tier-three alchemical bombs. A low-grade, tier-one ring, wasn’t even as precious as those items were.

Several thoughts passed through Alena’s mind as she watched Roka lay the beautiful mat down close to where one could be warmed by the fireplace. Alena had lived long enough and seen the ugly side of the magical world. Enough so to have any naïve hopes or expectations about it thoroughly erased from her psyche. Neither her avatar nor the true Olivia had struck Alena as the kind to be generous just for the sake of it. If they were being generous, it’s because they got something in exchange. When the boy had admitted that he planned on having sex with as many of the town’s women as possible, it hadn’t come as that much of a shock to her. After all, the very first time the boy had introduced his familiar, Olivia had plainly stated that she had certain needs of a more lascivious nature and the boy would be her conduit in scratching this need. Whether it was with her or some other woman, the familiar didn’t care.

When Roka revealed what he was planning to do, she didn’t make the connection. But watching him now, it clicked in her mind, the sex was the payment. The evidence had been there all along. The familiar's need for the boy to have sex. The overwhelming aura of lust that surrounded the true Olivia, and to a lesser degree, her avatar. The fact that Roka seemed to be obtaining magical items that by all logic, he should have no access to. The pieces of the puzzle were all present, it’s only now that they snapped together into a coherent picture. Olivia, or at least her true self, was a being of lust. It’s what she thrived on. In exchange for acts that generated lust, Roka, and probably all the other vessels that the true Olivia had chosen, would get rewards in the form of certain magical items and things of that nature. How big the catalog of things they could get was, Alena couldn’t even begin to imagine. She, however, had to clench her hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking as she considered the magnitude of such a gift!

Alena didn’t even for a second hold it against him or wonder why Roka never told her about it. Even she could see just how tempting it would be to have an almost infinite source of magical items and resources and all one had to give in exchange for it was sex. If anything, the boy’s discretion showed wisdom on his part. His familiar had probably warned him against revealing the arrangement to anyone, but that he had abided by that warning was to the boy’s credit. Just because someone is close to you, doesn’t mean that they ought to know absolutely everything about you. Alena had seen so many people get turned on and betrayed by the people closest to them simply because they had revealed too much about their good fortune. If her conclusion about the source of the boy’s magical items was true, then it was the kind of secret that one never told even their shadow.

Once the mat was in the right position and all the folds and wrinkles smoothed out, Alena watched as the boy began to pull out various steaming dishes and set them down on the mat. Alena looked down at the book of records she’d been reviewing, hoping to get a deeper understanding of the development process of mana pathways under her new system. She was tempted to tell the boy that she was busy and that while she appreciated the gesture, they could do this some other time. She, however, pushed that impulse back down. With a sigh, she reached forward and closed the book before rising to her feet and walking over to where the boy had just finished setting up the impromptu meal.

“What’s all this,” she asked calmly.

Once again, the boy got that far-away look he got when he was thinking through his answer, looking for a way to best convey what he was thinking. For a moment, Alena feared that she would be hit with another confession from the boy. The small smile that crossed Roka’s face, however, assuaged those fears. “Being the good friend I should have been right from the start,” he said enigmatically. At her look of confusion, he smiled and indicated toward the mat, offering her a place to sit. Once she was settled, the boy followed suit, sitting across from her on the mat. Taking a plate out from his storage ring, he placed a few of the items he’d prepared on it before offering it to her. “To be honest with you, I was afraid when I opened up to you earlier. I didn’t know what to expect or how you’d react to what I was doing. But rather than attack me for my less-than-stellar goals, you threw your support behind me without reservation or judgment,” He said.

“It left me feeling ashamed,” Roka revealed causing a look of confusion to cross her features. “I was ashamed because I couldn’t think of one thing that I’ve done for you without expecting something back. You saved my life, you took me on as your student, you came to my family’s aid when you thought they were in danger from the dark crawler, you decided to use your vast knowledge and research in magic to help me when you didn’t have to. But what have I done for you?” he asked.

“If not for you, it would have been another hundred years at the least before I could transform the seed of an idea that the sigil was into something workable,” Although she knew that it was a rhetorical question, Alena couldn’t help but answer the boy.

“Sure,” he conceded with a shrug. “But I’m also the primary beneficiary of that, you literally have to start over as a mage before you gain from your own idea. Not to mention the fact that the corrections largely came from Olivia, I didn’t do much of anything,” He said.

“You’ve given up your best path as a mage to help me,” she pointed out.

“And in exchange, you promised to help me reach the fifth tier as a healer,” He answered her, a wry smile on his lips. “I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done for you without first getting, or expecting some future thing in return… and I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all,” He said. “It didn’t click the first time I heard you say it, but earlier today when I was wondering what I could do for you, it came back to me and immediately, I knew the answer,” He said with a smile.

“When you opened up to me about your past, you told me that the betrayal of your friends had taken everything away from you. That you spend every waking moment obsessed with vengeance. That even your pursuit of magic has been tainted by the poison that they left in your heart. My gift to you, to whatever small degree I can, is to give you some of that back. To give you a space, and a small window of time in which vengeance isn’t your pursuit. Time in which, the ones who hurt you are no longer your sole focus. I know you’re too busy with your research for this to be an everyday thing, but at least once every three days, I’ll be coming over for us to share in this meal, and for you to just open up about whatever else you want to talk about,” He said.

“I want to emphasize, that this time is all for you. I’m only here to be your friend. Any time we meet, I don’t want you worrying about me. This is your time to be selfish and think about you. What do you want to talk about? How are you feeling? What are your most treasured memories? So long as you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. Heck, if you want us to sit in silence and just enjoy each other’s company, then that’s just what we'll do. You don’t have to feel pressured to talk, I’m with you either way. The only rule we shall observe during this time is that neither one of us shall bring up your betrayal or your plans for vengeance,” he asserted. “They already consume the rest of your life. We won’t allow them to have this part,” he said in a firm tone, clearly not willing to bend on this point.

After almost eight hundred cycles of life, Alena prided herself in having a great composure and a firm hold on her emotions. That’s why it came as a surprise to her when she felt a lump forming in her throat and tears threatening to spill from her eyes. It was only through the masterful control she had over her body as a healer that she was able to keep her tear glands from producing the requisite tears. Swallowing hard, Alena had to take a second to compose herself and keep her voice from shaking before she spoke. “You… you don’t have to,” She said, her voice a lot hoarser than it usually was.

“I want to,” Came the boy’s immediate reply, all the while he was smiling as he took out another plate and started to serve himself some food.

It was a simple gesture. Just sitting and talking over some shared food. And yet, somehow, it felt like he had touched some deep part of her. She was like a wounded animal in the corner, consumed by pain and anger at the world, and like a ray of warmth and kindness, the boy was trying to remind her that the pain and anger weren’t all that there was. A scared part of her wanted to reject this, it wanted to tell the boy that this was a waste of time and withdraw back into her shell where it was safe and no one could hurt her. An even deeper part of her, however, the part that felt hurt and alone, abandoned by the world, that part kept her seated, trying to keep her hand from shaking as she held the plate.

There was a long silence after his answer. Roka, however, just looked down at his food and ate, not putting any kind of pressure on her to talk, whether through his words or his gaze. “Alena,” She called out, her voice a little less hoarse. “That’s my name,” She revealed when the boy looked at her with genuine interest “Do… do you want to hear about how I came to be a healer?” She summoned the courage to continue, choosing what she felt to be a relatively safe topic.

Roka looked up at her with a smile “I’d love to,” Came his heartfelt response…

***

“Why don’t you join my family for dinner?” Greg asked Shalia with a smile when they came to a stop before the gate to his home.

The talk with the healer had gone on for the three hours between Greg’s arrival and his final session of the day. Given how young he’d been when he died in his first life, Greg couldn’t exactly call himself a therapist in any sense of the word. He, however, knew that sometimes, just having someone there willing to listen could be therapeutic in its own way. And so, that’s what he’d endeavored to do. For the whole duration, he’d fought the urge to cut in with his thoughts and opinions and just listened to her. On many things, the healer had remained intentionally vague. For example, while Greg got the sense that she was from a prominent family from the way she spoke of them, the healer never actually mentioned her family name, she never mentioned what region she grew up in or any information that would have allowed Greg to figure out who they were. Not that this bothered Greg. The whole arrangement was meant to be a space for the healer to share her experiences outside of her betrayal and the ones who hurt her. It wasn’t meant to be an interrogation in any way, shape, or form. What she wanted to share, Greg would gladly listen to. What she wanted to keep close to her chest. Greg would respect.

But while she had remained vague on some things, Greg had also learned some surprising things about the healer from the talk. The most surprising thing that he'd learned was the fact that the school of life wasn’t the school that she initially had the highest affinity with. If she had gone with the school that she had the highest affinity with, Alena would have been an elemental mage of the rare element of light. This is part of the reason why she could form visible runes in the air when she cast spell. A phenomenon that Greg hadn’t seen with anyone else, now that he thought about it. At this point, Greg had been unable to stop himself from asking about the Azra's bead that she’d used to test his affinities. When she had picked it, it had glowed a bright white, which according to her, was the color of school of life affinity. The explanation for this, however, was rather simple. Affinity is not some fixed thing but a measure of your potential in a given school of magic. When she was starting, her affinity for light magic was much greater than that of being a healer. She, however, had spent the last seven-hundred-plus cycles pursuing the healing arts from the level of a first-tier mage to a seventh-tier mage, whereas she only knew the most basic of light spells. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, but over the centuries her affinity had slowly shifted away from the light element to the school of life. The fact that she already had a very high affinity with magic is part of the reason she was able to make the shift. Without that fact, her path would have been much rougher and thornier.

The reason Alena abandoned her primary affinity to become a healer was because she watched her mother slowly die from a strange disease that none of the healers their families procured could heal. Even as she spoke, Greg could both see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice that she remembered the powerlessness of watching her mother slowly waste away. Their family was full of powerful light mages and yet, none of them could do a thing for her mother. That’s how Alena came to choose the school of life. She’d sworn to herself that never again would she lose someone close to her because she wasn’t able to save them from whatever was ailing them. Later in life when she was a fifth-tier mage, she came to find out through her investigations that the disease was the result of an engineered attack by a rival clan against their family. That’s how a clan that had been around for more than a thousand years was eliminated right to the last person in a single night by a single healer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hakor cut in before Shalia could reply to Greg’s invitation. As promised, after the evening session with the healer, Greg had picked up the girl and the two had walked home together. Of course, Hakor, her assigned guard, had been following the two of them a few paces behind. Greg noted the girl’s annoyance with the man at his refusal going by the dirty look that she sent his way. The man, however, barely noticed as he was looking Greg’s way, and by the firm look on his face, Greg knew that he wouldn’t be budging on this. “I’m sure you understand that her safety comes first,” he went on to say.

“Of course,” Greg answered with a smile and a nod. Greg wasn’t bothered by the interference from Hakor, knowing perfectly well that the longer Shalia was denied the more the hunger grew. Besides, he would spend tonight coming up with the perfect little den of lust, what better way to christen the room than with the Town-head’s daughter? Greg watched the two walk away for a few seconds before he turned around and walked into his compound.

“Good evening, Mother,” Greg greeted the woman as she stirred a pot full of a thick, meaty broth. The woman was seated on a short, three-legged wooden stool that was common in kitchens across the town as it allowed one to cook with ease without having to bend over all the time. Greg didn’t miss the way the woman stiffened a little at the sound of his voice, the DISCERNING ring picked up on a spike in arousal, and like a shark presented with blood in the water, Greg couldn’t help the predatorial smile that crossed his lips.

Rising to her feet, the woman hid her nervousness behind a smile as she walked over to him. Taking his head between her hands, Greg leaned down and let her kiss his mask where his forehead would usually be. This time, however, Greg’s hands snaked around her waist and came to rest on her round ass. “G… good evening Roka,” She greeted, doing her best to ignore the fact that her son’s hands were exploring her body.

“Where is Tayani?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips under the mask as he noted the fact that she wasn’t pulling away from him but allowing his hands to explore her generous curves,

“After all the cooking you had us do earlier today, she was completely exhausted, so I allowed her to go to bed early,” She answered before stifling a moan as Greg’s hands came around to grab one of her bountiful breasts, all the while, ignoring his other hand, which was pulling her dress higher and higher.

“And how about you?” Greg asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice. “Aren’t you tired?” He asked.

“Don’t… don’t worry about me, I rested after you left, I just got up to prepare something for you,” She declared. With the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle still on, his mother couldn’t suppress the shudder of pleasure that coursed through her when Greg’s hand slipped into her dress and started lightly pinching and playing with her nipple. Meanwhile, his other hand had already slipped under her dress and was kneading her perfect ass.

“No, that just won’t do. I won’t have my mother collapsing from fatigue. Take the pot off the fire and come with me,” He instructed.

Despite her protests that she was fine, her mother quickly found herself lying facedown on her bed. Her dress was folded in large folds from both ends so that it was like a large band around her waist protecting her modesty. From his storage ring, Greg took out the scented oil he’d just bought from the Eros shop. A LOVER’S TOUCH. That was the name of the oil in the Eros shop. To Greg, it had a minty smell that he found relaxing. He, however, knew that both the smell and the effect were unique to every person who interacted with it. To his mother, the scent was probably different, and judging by the soft smile that crossed her lips when she caught the scent, it probably brought some beautiful memories back to mind.

A groan of delight escaped his mother’s lips when Greg slowly dripped a line of the oil from the base of her spine to a little past her shoulder blades. Greg could understand her reaction seeing as the effects of the oil didn’t just stop at being uniquely scented for everyone. To begin with, the oil was always warm to the touch, adding to the comfort and pleasure one got from it. Secondly, everywhere the oil touched one’s skin it would feel like a million tiny hands were already caressing them, even before the actual massage began. This effect was only further enhanced by the third effect of the oil, which was to increase the sensitivity of the skin, not to an uncomfortable degree but just enough to heighten the experience of pleasure from the massage. The oil would also make the muscles underneath much more pliable to increase the effectiveness of the massage and leave one feeling completely relaxed after.

Straddling her thighs just behind her ass, Greg began to massage his mother’s back. The increased sensitivity from the oil and the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle came together in a perfect union causing a long drawn-out moan to escape his mother’s lips even as his hands gently but firmly glided over her skin. The hard life in this little town made it so that her mother’s body was lithe and toned, which when paired with her feminine curves, caused stirrings in Greg’s loins that he wouldn’t have been able to suppress even if he’d wanted to. As he leaned forward to relieve the tension between her shoulder blades, Greg knew his mother could feel his cock pressing up against her ass, dangerously close to slipping between her legs. Greg’s pants and the dress she had folded around her waist, however, stood guard and foiled any would-be intruders into her innermost sanctum.

The woman was so lost in the sensations of the oil and his touch that Greg doubted she was even aware of it as her waist gyrated, pushing harder against his hard cock. Gritting his teeth, Greg slowly breathed out through his nose, trying to calm the raging lust that was roiling within him. He didn’t wish to rush this. He wanted to take it slow and make this as much of a memorable experience for her as it would be for him. As such, despite the tantalizing way in which his mother’s ass kept grinding against his groin, Greg continued to take his time and sensually massage her, allowing her to lose herself in the sensations until she was little more than putty in his hands.

Greg’s ministrations eventually moved to her legs, climbing at a tantalizingly slow pace from the soles of her feet, up to her calves, then just behind her knees before climbing up to her thick thighs. From where Greg stood he could see her pink flower, its petals already glistening with moisture. Her legs had unconsciously parted the higher his hands climbed, and by the unconscious way she seemed to be arching her back, Greg could feel the deep need from her core. The woman’s spine went rigid before her body was racked by violent shudders when Greg’s hands ‘accidentally’ came in contact with her slick fold, his thumb pressing on her clit. With her face to the side, Greg could see that her mouth was open in a silent scream even as she writhed in overwhelming pleasure. Greg couldn’t keep the devilish smile off his face. They were just getting started…

***

Hope you enjoyed the Chapter.  As usual, the next chapter will be up next Wednesday. Chapter Sixty is up on my Patreon. Please consider supporting me.[/news]