“What the hell is going on?” James muttered to himself, staring in bewilderment at the book in his hands. It was a peculiar tome, one that had been gathering dust on his shelf for ages, until tonight’s insomnia had led him to it. The pages fluttered open of their own accord, revealing images that were definitely not part of the library’s usual collection. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, sure he was hallucinating.
He received the book from a friend he met at Pride this past summertime. Speaking of which, the friend sadly went missing. His friend was a kinky guy who loved to chat about anime, manga, and other nerdy things. Andy always knew how to have a good time.
The illustrations grew more vivid, almost 3D, and the text around them began to pulse with an eerie light. It was like nothing James had ever seen before. The words spoke of a world filled with men, each embodying different sexual fantasies. He felt a strange heat emanating from the book, and before he could snap it shut, the room around him began to distort. The book’s spine grew, stretching into a vertical line that split the air and swallowed him whole.
James gasped as he found himself standing on a narrow dirt path, surrounded by towering trees that whispered secrets in a language he didn’t understand. The sun blazed overhead, casting dappled light through the canopy. He looked down at his phone, but the screen remained stubbornly black. No bars, no signal. Panic began to set in. Was he dreaming? Or had he somehow stumbled into the very world he had been reading about?
He shoved the phone into his pocket and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The scent of pine and loam filled his nostrils, and the sounds of unfamiliar birdsong serenaded him from the branches above. This was definitely not his cramped apartment in the city. The realization that he might actually be in a fantasy world was as exhilarating as it was terrifying. He looked around, spotting a glint of metal in the underbrush. It was a rusty sword.
“Well, that’s convenient,” he murmured, picking it up and giving it a tentative swing. It was heavier than he expected, and the blade was dull, but it was better than nothing. He had read enough fantasy novels to know that a sword in hand was always a good start, even if he had no idea how to use it. The book had said something about ‘leveling up’ through ‘contracts’. He hoped that meant he’d get some kind of instruction manual or tutorial soon.
James looked around, taking in the alien beauty of his surroundings. The tree trunks were massive, with bark that looked like it could tell a thousand stories if it could speak. He reached out and touched one, feeling the rough bark against his fingertips. It was real, solid, and undeniably not his bedroom wall. He smacked himself on the cheeks, feeling the sting of reality. “I can’t believe I’ve been isekai’d!” he yelled to the empty sky, his voice echoing through the woods. The only response was the caw of a distant bird.
The path ahead was clear, and the idea of following it seemed like the most logical step. After all, he had stumbled into this world through a book about sexual fantasy, and he had a suspicion that this place wasn’t exactly family-friendly. He had to be prepared for anything. He took a deep breath, gripped the sword tightly, and stepped onto the path. It was well-trodden, which suggested that it was used frequently. Maybe it led to a village or a town where he could get some answers.
The hours passed as James walked, the sun gradually descending in the sky. The heat grew more bearable as the shadows lengthened, and he found himself looking forward to the cool embrace of the evening. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since lunch, and he wondered if this world had anything edible. He had never felt so out of place in his life, but there was also a strange excitement bubbling within him. It was like he had stumbled into the very pages of a fantasy novel.
As the sky began to blush with shades of orange and pink, James heard the unmistakable rustle of leaves and snapping of twigs from the bushes beside the path. He stopped in his tracks, his heart racing. The sound grew louder, and he tightened his grip on the sword, feeling the comforting weight of it in his hand. He had no idea what kind of creatures lived here, but he wasn’t going to be caught off-guard.
Just as the noises and rustling stopped, a plant monster with vines lashed out and caught James’ leg. He stumbled, his eyes going wide as he stared down at the leafy appendage that had wrapped around his ankle.
“That’s not good!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the silent woods. The creature emerged from the foliage, a twisted amalgamation of branches and vines with a leering, gaping maw. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and the suddenness of the attack had thrown him completely off-guard.
James thrashed, trying to kick free, but the vine tightened its grip, lifting him off the ground. The plant monster yanked him closer, and he felt the cold, slimy embrace of more vines coiling around his arms and torso. He struggled, his heart racing as he was held in the creature’s grasp. The rusty sword slipped from his hand, clattering to the earth below. He was utterly defenseless now, and the monster seemed to sense his fear, the gaping mouth stretching wider in a silent, malevolent grin.
And then, like a whisper in the wind, a woman’s voice spoke in his mind, clear and authoritative.
“Target acquired,” she said calmly. “It’s a Dendrophyllum Lascivium. To complete your contract, you must harvest its nectar.”
James blinked, his panic momentarily forgotten as he processed the bizarre information. Nectar? From this monstrosity? The voice didn’t seem to be in any hurry to explain further, leaving him to puzzle over the cryptic message as the creature’s vines tightened.
The vines around James grew thicker, their tips morphing into phallic shapes that pulsed with a sickly sweet nectar. His face contorted in revulsion, but the voice was insistent.
“The nectar is key to your survival and growth. Drink it, and you will gain power.”
The Dendrophyllum’s vines quivered with excitement, the cock-like protrusions growing closer to his face, releasing a musky scent that made his stomach churn. He knew he had no choice; if he didn’t complete this contract, he’d be stuck in this world, unable to defend himself against the very real dangers that lurked within it.
Gritting his teeth, James leaned in, his eyes watering as he parted his lips. The vine tip pressed against his mouth, the slit at its tip opening slightly. He tasted the nectar, and it was like nothing he had ever experienced—sweet yet bitter, warm and sticky. It filled his mouth, and he could feel it seeping down his throat, into his very soul. He swallowed convulsively, the sensation both repulsive and strangely exhilarating. The vines holding him tightened, and another began to probe his backside, seeking entry.
The sudden pain of the thorns piercing his skin made him yelp, the sensation shooting through his body like a bolt of lightning. The thorns grew longer, digging into his flesh and tearing through the fabric of his pants, leaving his buttocks exposed. The vine retreated slightly, and James felt the fabric of his underwear rip away as the thorns continued their relentless assault. He squirmed, trying to pull away, but the creature was insistent, and the pain was quickly overridden by the strange euphoria of the nectar.
As the vine pushed deeper, James felt his body respond in ways that both terrified and aroused him. His muscles clenched around the intrusion, and his mind raced with thoughts that were both alien and intoxicating. He had never been with a man before, never even considered it, but the nectar was doing something to him, something that made his body crave the contact in a way that was impossible to ignore.
The creature’s vines grew more aggressive, the thorns tearing through his skin as they sought the tight ring of his anus. James could feel the warmth and wetness spreading from his mouth down to his crotch, his body betraying him as he became increasingly aroused. The vines caressed his buttocks, tracing a line of fire across his sensitive skin, urging him to open up. He whimpered, trying to fight the urge, but the voice in his head grew stronger, whispering sweet nothings about power and pleasure.
With a final, desperate effort, James parted his legs, allowing the vine entry. The thorns pushed past the tight muscle, and he felt a wave of pain and pleasure that was almost too much to bear. The vine slithered deep inside him, filling him up as the nectar continued to flow into his mouth. He choked on it, his throat burning, but the voice urged him to swallow, to take it all in. His body quivered as the thorns hit something deep within him, and a warmth began to spread from his core, mixing with the agony of the penetration.
The Dendrophyllum Lascivium’s vines grew more vigorous, pumping him full of its essence. James could feel his skin stretching, his body swelling as the nectar flooded his veins. The creature’s movements grew more erratic, the vines thickening and pulsing with excitement. It was as if the plant was savoring the taste of his fear and arousal, drawing energy from his very soul. He could feel his strength waning, his vision blurring around the edges. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.
But then, as the vine in his mouth filled him to the brim, something strange happened. The nectar didn’t just flow down his throat; it seeped into his skin, into his very pores. His body began to tingle, and he felt a surge of power unlike anything he had ever experienced. The vines holding him tightened, and the thorns retracted slightly, allowing James to gasp for air. He could feel the creature’s hunger growing, the anticipation of the feast to come. But the voice in his head grew stronger, guiding him through the haze of pain and pleasure.
“Contract completed,” the woman’s voice whispered, echoing in his mind. “Nectar received. James has received the skill, Lust.”
The words were like a cool breeze on a hot day, bringing clarity and purpose to his addled thoughts. He realized that the creature was feeding off his desire, and the more he fought it, the more power it gained. The voice was right—his survival and growth depended on embracing this new, alien aspect of himself.
With a deep breath, James closed his eyes and willed himself to accept the sensation. The pain morphed into pleasure, the vines’ invasive touch into a caress. He felt the thorns retreat slightly, the pressure building as the plant monster’s need grew more intense.
“Activate Lust?” the voice in his head prompted, and without hesitation, he thought, “Yes, please.”
The surge of power was instantaneous. The vines that had held him in their thrall suddenly felt like ribbons as he wriggled free, his muscles now coiled with an energy that seemed to come from within. The Dendrophyllum Lascivium’s grip loosened, and with a grunt, James tore himself away from the creature’s embrace. He stumbled backward, panting, the nectar still dripping from his mouth and down his chin. The creature writhed before him, its vines flailing in a desperate attempt to reconnect.
But James wasn’t alone for long. From the shadows of the trees emerged a second plant monster, its vines thicker and more robust than the first. It moved with a purpose that sent a cold shiver down James’ spine. Before he could react, the creature’s vines shot out, impaling him once more, one in his mouth and another in his ass, both coated in the viscous nectar that seemed to be the currency of this bizarre world. The creature’s phallic tendrils plunged deeper than the first, and James felt the thorns dig in even further, the pain a white-hot brand searing through his body.
The voice in his head grew urgent. “Complete the contract! Fulfill your lust, and you will gain power!”
With a snarl, James ripped the vine from his mouth, the nectar spraying in an arc through the air. He tasted blood, but the sweetness of the nectar remained, a testament to the strength he had gained. He stumbled to his feet, the sword now feeling like an extension of his own body. He raised it with a battle cry that seemed to shake the very trees.
The larger plant monster had him pinned, its vines digging deeper into his flesh, but James’s eyes gleamed with a newfound ferocity. He took a swing at the creature’s thick trunk, the blade slicing through the tough bark with surprising ease. The creature let out a keening wail, and James felt a surge of power as the nectar within it gushed forth. He hacked away at the vines, each one retreating with a wet, meaty sound as they were severed. The creature thrashed, its vines flailing wildly, but James was unrelenting. He knew that his survival depended on this act of brutal dominance.
With a final, desperate heave, James tore the vine from his ass, the thorns tearing at his skin. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before, but it only served to fuel his rage. He threw himself at the monster, his movements now fluid and powerful. The sword arced through the air, slicing through the creature’s midsection. The Dendrophyllum Lascivium writhed and shuddered, its wooden limbs jerking spasmodically as it began to wither away. James watched in horror and fascination as the creature’s form crumbled into a pile of dead leaves and desiccated branches, the nectar pooling around his feet.
The sight of the creature’s demise seemed to send a wave of fear through the second monster. It let out a high-pitched wail, and the vines retreated, pulling James along with them. He felt the warmth of the nectar spurting out of his body, mixing with the cold sweat that covered his skin. The creature was trying to flee, its vines retreating into the underbrush, but James was having none of it. He had tasted power, and he was not about to let his prey escape.
With a roar that surprised even him, James took off after the creature. The nectar had changed him, made him faster, stronger, more primal. He leaped over the tangled roots that had once tripped him up, his legs moving with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. The plant monster’s fear was palpable, the air thick with the scent of it. It crashed through the brush, but James was relentless. He could feel the power of the Lust skill coursing through him, urging him onward.
The creature’s vines flailed wildly as it tried to escape, but James was too quick. He caught it with ease, the vines wrapping around his body doing little to slow him down. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the sword slicing through the air, catching the creature’s main trunk with a resounding thwack. The Dendrophyllum Lascivium’s wooden body cracked, and it let out a guttural moan that sent chills down James’ spine. It stumbled, its leaves falling to the ground. It was defeated.
As the creature’s life force drained away, a light blue screen flickered before James’ eyes—a stark contrast to the verdant forest around him. It was like something out of a video game, displaying his new stats with cold, digital precision: Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2. His strength, agility, and endurance had all increased by one point. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks: this wasn’t just a fantasy world; it was a game, and he had just leveled up.
The nectar’s effects began to wane, leaving him feeling drained and sticky. The vines around his body slithered away, and he staggered, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. The once-potent aphrodisiac no longer surged through his veins, and the sword that had felt like an extension of his arm now felt heavy once more. The world around him lost its vivid, almost unreal clarity, and he was left with the cold, hard reality of his situation. He had killed, been penetrated, and gained power through the most unlikely of means.
James took stock of his injuries, grimacing at the torn fabric of his pants and the trickles of blood that painted his skin. The thorns had left deep gouges in his flesh, and he could feel the sting of the plant’s toxins as they seeped into his system. He had never felt so alive and so vulnerable at the same time. He knew he had to move, to find shelter and perhaps some medical attention, but his body screamed for rest. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain and the weariness that clung to him like a second skin.
Just then, he heard the footsteps of something big approaching him, fast. The thud of heavy boots sent the leaves flying as the unmistakable sound of armor clanking grew louder. He turned, his eyes widening as a towering figure emerged from the shadows of the trees. The man was clad in gleaming plate mail, a crimson cape fluttering in the breeze. He had to be the Knight mentioned in the book. The very person James had been reading about just moments before, but now the reality was far more intimidating than any daydream.
The Knight’s handsome face was a mask of concern, his piercing blue eyes scanning James’ torn and blood-soaked body.
“Who are you?” he bellowed, his voice deep and authoritative. “What beast did this to you?”
James stumbled back, his heart racing. The Knight was everything the book had described—tall, broad-shouldered, with muscles that looked as if they had been chiseled from marble. His sword, sheathed at his side, was a gleaming bastion of protection, and the crimson cape that trailed behind him spoke of valor and power.
“I-I’m James Ander-,” he managed to croak out, his voice thick with pain and fear. “And that vine beast…” He nodded weakly at the decaying pile of branches that had once been his attacker. “It did this to me.”
The Knight’s laughter boomed through the now-silent woods, and James’ cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You must be new to the lands of Erosia,” the Knight said, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “That’s no beast, lad, that’s a mere Dendrophyllum Lascivium. Nothing more than a common garden pest.”
James stared up at the towering figure, feeling utterly pathetic. The Knight was right; he was a novice, and his attire was anything but battle-ready. His clothes were ripped and stained with the nectar of the creature he had just barely survived. The Knight’s laughter was infectious, though, and despite the pain, James couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“What’s your name, Sir Knight?” James asked, hoping to break the tension. The Knight’s expression softened, and he sheathed his sword, stepping closer.
“I am Sir Adrian, the Protector of the Woodlands,” he announced, his voice echoing through the trees. “And you, young one, have the scent of a freshly bloomed flower ripe for the plucking.”
James’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. “I’m not from around here,” he admitted, deciding that some honesty might be the best policy. “I don’t know much about this place, and I could really use some help.”
Sir Adrian’s expression grew more serious. “A traveler, are you?” He studied James with a keen gaze. “Your accent is certainly not of these lands. But fear not, I shall aid you in your quest for knowledge and sustenance.”
James nodded gratefully, his eyes never leaving the knight’s handsome face. He felt a strange pull toward the man, a feeling that went beyond mere attraction. Just then, the voice in his head is back. “Target Acquired. Receive the Nectar of Sir Adrian. Complete the contract.”
The voice disappeared and he was unable to interrupt it or stop it.
James looked up at Sir Adrian, his voice shaking slightly. “Do you have any medical supplies?” he asked, gesturing to his torn clothes and the blood that stained them. The Knight’s expression grew solemn, and he reached into a pouch at his side, pulling out a small bottle of what looked like glowing liquid.
“This is a healing potion,” Sir Adrian said, holding it out to James. “It’ll mend your wounds and restore your strength.”
James took the bottle with trembling hands, the cold glass a stark contrast to the sticky warmth that still clung to his skin. He uncorked it and took a tentative sip, the liquid burning a path down his throat that somehow seemed to meld with the lingering nectar. The pain from his injuries began to ebb away, and he felt a warmth spreading through his body, pushing out the fatigue that had settled into his bones. He drank greedily, feeling the potion’s magic work its way through him.
As the potion took effect, James noticed a peculiar sensation—the gashes on his ass, a grim reminder of his encounter with the plant monster, began to glow a soft emerald green. The light grew more intense, and the cuts closed before his very eyes, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. It was as if the nectar itself had become a part of him, forever changing his body in ways he had never imagined. He couldn’t help but stare in amazement, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
Sir Adrian noticed James’s bewilderment and offered a reassuring smile.
“The nectar of the Dendrophyllum Lascivium is potent, but it has its uses,” he said, his eyes flicking to the green glow that had faded from James’s skin. “It’s the main ingredient in these healing potions that we rely on!”
Without another word, Sir Adrian strode over to the larger plant creature, his heavy boots crunching through the leaves. James watched in amazement as the knight produced a small glass bottle from his pack, uncorked it, and bent down to the creature’s severed trunk. The nectar, still oozing from the stump, shimmered in the moonlight. It was thicker than the nectar from the smaller creature, almost syrupy, and it glowed with a deep, rich blue.
Sir Adrian worked with surprising delicacy, using the tip of a small knife to coax the nectar into the bottle. The fluid was viscous, clinging to the blade and stretching out in a shimmering thread as he transferred it. James felt a pang of jealousy as he watched the knight handle the nectar with such ease, his own recent encounter with the substance still fresh in his mind. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of arousal at the sight of the potent fluid, his body remembering all too well the power it had granted him.
Once the bottle was full, Sir Adrian corked it with a flourish and handed it to James.
“Take this to the nearby town,” he instructed, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. “It’s worth about a four-night stay in the inn. The alchemist will pay you for it.”
James took the bottle with trembling hands, the weight of his newfound reality sinking in. He had no idea where the town was, but he knew that with nightfall approaching, he couldn’t be out here alone. The woods were already growing darker, the shadows deepening with every passing moment. He looked up at Sir Adrian, feeling a mix of fear and hope.
“Town?” James repeated, his voice shaky. “I don’t know where it is.”
Sir Adrian’s smile grew wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Ah, you truly are a stranger here, aren’t you?” He sheathed his knife and patted James’ shoulder firmly. “Fear not, I shall guide you. Nightfall in these woods is not for the faint of heart.”
The Knight’s hand on his shoulder was warm and reassuring, and James couldn’t help but feel a spark of attraction. The voice in his head was silent, but the urge to complete his contract with Sir Adrian was growing stronger by the minute. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat building in his groin. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
They set off, the sound of their footsteps a comforting rhythm as they made their way through the darkening woods. The trees grew sparser, the path becoming more defined with each step they took. The moon was high in the sky by the time they reached the outskirts of the town, its silvery light casting everything in an ethereal glow. The buildings were made of a soft, pale stone that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, and the streets were lined with torches that flickered and danced.
As they entered the town square, James’s eyes widened at the sight of the bustling activity. Men of all shapes and sizes moved about, some in armor similar to Sir Adrian’s, others in robes that fluttered in the cool night air. The sounds of laughter and the clink of coins filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of music. The alchemy shop stood out, a warm, welcoming light spilling out onto the cobblestone street from its open door.
Sir Adrian’s hand fell away from James’s shoulder as he turned to face the young man. “This is where we part ways for now,” he said, his voice gentle. “I must report to the guild hall. Take the bottle to the alchemist, and he will see to it that you are compensated fairly.”
James nodded, his eyes never leaving Adrian’s. The Knight’s gaze was intense, and James felt a strange thrill at the thought of their paths crossing again. “Thank you,” he murmured, clutching the bottle tightly. “I’ll find the inn and get some rest.”
Sir Adrian nodded. “Do that,” he said, his voice gruff. “You’re going to need your strength. Remember, this is a world of men, and you must embrace your strength to truly survive.” With that, he turned and strode off, his crimson cape fluttering like a banner behind him.
James watched the knight disappear into the shadows before taking a deep breath and steeling himself. He had to sell the vial of nectar to the alchemist, but his stomach was growling like a beast. The scents from a nearby food stand wafted over, making his mouth water. The vendor was a burly man with a thick beard and a cheerful smile. He was flipping what looked like pancakes over a sizzling griddle, and James’s stomach lurched with hunger.
“How much for one?” James called out, his voice hopeful. The vendor looked him up and down, noticing the tattered clothes, his backside open to the air, and the bottle in his hand.
“You got something to trade?” the vendor asked, his eyes gleaming with interest.
James nodded, gripping the bottle tighter. “I’ve got something,” he said, his voice a mix of hope and determination. “But first, I need to get paid for it.”
The alchemist’s shop was a riot of smells—the sharp tang of acids, the sweet scent of exotic flowers, and the musky odor of earthy potions. The man himself was tall and lean, with a wild mane of gray hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through James. He looked up from his work, a flask of bubbling purple liquid in hand, as James approached the counter.
“Welcome in. What brings you here, young one?” the alchemist asked, his voice a low purr that seemed to resonate with the very air around him. James placed the bottle of nectar on the counter, the liquid sloshing gently.
The alchemist’s eyes widened as he took in the potent substance. “Ah, a fine specimen,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on James. “Tell me, how did you come by this?”
James’s heart pounded in his chest, the voice in his head a distant whisper. He had to complete his contract, but the very idea of sharing his intimate encounter with the creature made him blush. “It’s…complicated,” he said, his voice low.
The alchemist leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Complicated, you say?” He picked up the bottle, the nectar swirling hypnotically in the moonlit shop. “Let me guess—you’ve just arrived in Erosia, yes?”
“Yeah,” James replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The alchemist’s knowing look made his cheeks burn even hotter. “How did you know?”
The alchemist chuckled, his eyes never leaving the bottle. “The nectar of the Dendrophyllum Lascivium is quite potent, isn’t it?” He looked up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “It tends to leave its mark on those it chooses to bless…or curse, depending on how one looks at it.” The Alchemist gestures to James’ pants ripped wide open.
James’s face grew hot as he looked down at his ruined pants. He needed new pants!
The alchemist’s eyes twinkled as he produced a small leather pouch, the clink of gold within music to James’s ears. “For your troubles,” he said, pushing it across the counter. James’s eyes widened as he realized it was more than enough for a few nights at the inn.
“But wait, there’s more,” the alchemist said, his smile growing broader. He ducked down behind the counter, rummaging through a chest before emerging with a pair of pants that seemed to shimmer and stretch like a living thing. “These are for you,” he said, holding out the garment. “They’re made from slime monster’s casing. They’ll fit you perfectly, no matter your size, and they’re quite… resistant to damage.”
James took the pants with a look of skepticism, but as he slipped them on, he felt the material mold to his body like a second skin. They were surprisingly comfortable, sleek and form-fitting, hugging his newfound muscles and hiding the evidence of his recent encounter with the plant creature. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, the soft leather-like fabric soothing his bruised and bloodied body.
The alchemist’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched James. “A perfect fit, I see,” he said, his voice a purr. “Those pants are enchanted with the essence of a Slime Beast. They’re quite popular among adventurers for their, shall we say, accommodating nature.” He winked, and James felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“Thank you,” James murmured, tucking the gold into his pocket. He turned to leave, feeling the pants move with him, almost as if they were alive. The alchemist called out after him. “Thank you for your business!”
James stepped out into the cool night air, the smell of the pancakes growing stronger. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of his earlier promise. He walked over to the vendor, the warmth of the griddle reaching out to him like a welcoming embrace. The burly man looked him up and down, his eyes lingering on the new pants that clung to James’s body. “Ah, you’ve seen the alchemist,” he said with a knowing wink. “A meat pancake for you, then?”
James nodded, his mouth watering. He fished out a few coins from the pouch Sir Adrian had given him and handed them over. The vendor took the coins with a grin, slapping a steaming pancake onto a wooden plate and handing it to James. The savory scent filled James’s nostrils, making his stomach growl even louder. He took a bite, the flavors exploding in his mouth. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before—the meat was tender and seasoned to perfection, the pancake itself light and fluffy. He devoured it, the warmth spreading through him like a comforting blanket.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, James thanked the vendor, who chuckled and gave him a knowing nod. “The Sleeping Giant, eh?” the man said, pointing across the square. “You’re in luck. It’s the best place for a newcomer to rest his head. Just beware the owner, Old Man Griggs. He’s got quite the eye for fresh meat.”
James’s heart skipped a beat at the comment, but he forced a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched for his liking. He turned and headed toward the inn, the warmth of the food and the promise of a bed helping to ease his nerves. The Sleeping Giant was indeed easy to spot—a massive wooden sign swung lazily from two chains, depicting a snoring giant with a thatched roof for a hat. The building itself was a two-story affair, the windows aglow with warm light and the sound of laughter spilling out into the night.
As he approached the door, it swung open, and a gust of warm air, thick with the scent of ale and roasting meat, washed over him. A burly man with a beard that looked like it could swallow him whole stepped out, slapping a younger man on the back. “See you tomorrow, then!” the younger man called over his shoulder, stumbling away into the night. The burly man turned to James, his eyes twinkling with good humor. “Welcome to the Sleeping Giant!” he boomed. “Looking for a place to rest your weary bones?”
James nodded, his voice a little steadier now. “I am,” he said. “I’ve just arrived in town, and I’ve been told this is the place to be.”
The man’s smile grew wider. “You’ve been told right,” he said, his teeth flashing in the torchlight. “I’m Old Man Griggs. What’s your name, traveler?”
“James,” he replied, his eyes scanning the bustling common room. It was packed with men of all shapes and sizes, some in armor, others in simple traveler’s garb. The warmth and light inside was a stark contrast to the cool darkness of the night.
“Well, James,” Old Man Griggs said, his eyes raking over James’s body in a way that made him feel both exposed and strangely thrilled. “You’ve come to the right place. We’ve got the best beds and the finest ale in all of Erosia. Just remember,” he leaned in close, his breath hot on James’s cheek, “everything has a price here.”
The innkeeper’s words sent a shiver down James’s spine, but he couldn’t ignore the promise of safety and comfort. He stepped over the threshold, the door thudding shut behind him, and allowed himself to be swept into the rowdy embrace of the Sleeping Giant’s warmth. He would deal with his newfound desires and the contracts that awaited him tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to rest and prepare for whatever this strange world had in store.
As he laid his head down, a light blue screen appeared above his face. This menu showed the stats of the day, and included an overview of his skills.
James squinted at the screen, his eyes widening as he took in the details. His Lust skill had indeed branched out, showing a perk tree that included ‘Charm’, ‘Seduction’, ‘Fascination.’ The ‘Charm’ ability allowed him to make others more susceptible to his desires, ‘Seduction’ would let him manipulate emotions and ‘Fascination’ would make his targets more likely to gaze upon him, even in the heat of battle. It was a thrilling and terrifying realization, the extent of his newfound power.
The blue screen hovered before his eyes, a stark contrast to the warm, golden light of the candle flickering on the wooden nightstand beside him. With a deep breath, he allocated his points. Three into each of the new abilities, spreading them evenly. He had three points to distribute and the last one burned in his mind. He hovered his finger over the options, the decision weighing heavily on him.
“Well, if I’m going to survive here, I’ll need all the help I can get,” he murmured to himself, placing the last point into ‘Charm’. He closed his eyes, feeling the power thrumming through his veins. It was like a siren’s call, urging him to explore and embrace his newfound abilities.
With a sigh, James lay back on the surprisingly soft bed, his thoughts racing. The warmth of the room, the comfort of the blankets, and the gentle sounds of a small town slowly lulled him into a fitful sleep.