Challenge System CH 11-15

Thank You to My Earthly Patrons: Michael Whitmer

Thank you to my Multiversal Patrons: Nightrise

The elves tied my hands in vine rope and led me behind them like a prisoner while Elorael walked behind me on Samael’s arm. Through twisting forest paths, I was taken from the forest's edge to the depths where a city of treehouses took shape.

My shoes were in ruins, my teeth were gone, and my clothes were in tatters. When I closed my mouth, nothing felt right. I plucked shards of shattered teeth from my gums and nearly passed out. The only thing keeping me going was breathing. Thorns bit my feet, drawing blood despite my toughened skin. With every breath, my lungs felt like they could explode at any moment keeping the sea god’s breath going. The technique should help me heal faster; the sea god healed from losing two hearts and its second brain.

If I had any of that being’s power, I should be able to do the same. But, instead, for a week straight, I did nothing but eat its flesh and fuck Elorael’s throat. She trained the breathing technique while I learned the basics and started extending my time. She didn’t need to stop using it while I had to use it in short bursts. Even if I bridged that gap, I didn’t know if it would be enough.

Mastering a breathing technique started at constant use, the minimum level of mastery. I had to make the technique as natural as breathing. After I tricked myself into replacing my normal breath with the technique, I would have mastered constant. But that wasn’t mastering the technique.

There was more to it than that.

My island obliterating fist gathered the power of the adult version of the kaiju. With it, I shattered the teeth of the kaiju and escaped. I needed to put that power into my normal punches to reach mastery. Every blow should be an island obliterating fist, and from there, I could move forward into a specialization.

I yanked another shard of a tooth from my gums and nearly fell to my knees. Then something scored across my back. While burning, pain flooded my system, and I turned around in time to see Samael with a glowing cane in her hand.

“Don’t drop your breathing technique. If you’re going to be one of the tribe, you have to master constant breathing. That’s something I’ve been able to do since I was a child.” Samael teased.

“You can do it, just focus on breathing,” Elorael said before Samael cut her off.

“Not another word from you. You’re my baby maker, remember. Babymakers don’t talk; you just accept my seed and pop out little elves.” Samael said.

I seethed then felt another crack of the cane. A stinging welt lumped up on my shoulder. Hitting her started it. Instead of lashing out, I swallowed my anger and focused on breathing. The next whack of the cane bounced off my skin.

We walked over to a pulley system and stepped into a primitive elevator. An elf up top pulled a crank connected to a series of wheels, and slowly we ascended.

“Hey, pet, you know what would be fun?” Samael asked.

“What?” Elorael asked.

“I think I’m going to invite Red to watch me take your virginity. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I’ll have to invite whoever my mother sends as a minder for him too. We want him to master constant as quickly as possible to be of use to our tribe. If a little thing like watching me fuck you breaks his breathing, then what use is he?” Samael asked.

My eyes went blank at that. How could any of this happen? Another crack ran across my chest, leaving a massive red welt, but I hardly felt it. Samael hit me again, crossing the welts, but I still didn’t take a breath. Then, finally, she caned my cheek, and other elves came to watch.

Round ear one called out; half-formed another yelled. Still, my mind felt blank as welt after welt appeared on my chest. She drew blood, and then the cane shattered in her hand. A smile grew on her face as she looked at me.

“That’s what I expect to see while I fuck her. There is nothing more beautiful than watching my rivals fall into despair.” Samael said.

“Breath,” Elorael said, and I sucked in a shallow breath.

I always preferred the meaty bruiser classes over the long-range snipers or mages. Unfortunately, the reality wasn’t the same as a game, and even a system giving out free drugs couldn’t change that. Being a bruiser was cool, but could I kill with my bare hands. How would I deal with long-range fighters? It didn’t matter how tough Bruce Lee was against a bullet traveling half a mile away. At the same time, what if that sniper faced a target like a hulk. Who would I rather be, the sniper or the Hulk? What about even more powerful beings like Goku or superman who used only their fists and special attacks? Well, what did I want? Samael was the problem now. If I specialized in a mage build, who knows, I might be able to do something and kill her. However, that wouldn’t fix the next situation. I was too weak.

Another lash of the cane scored across my chest. This time it did no damage. Instead, I reached into my mouth and pulled out another shard of a tooth.

A mage class would give me many options and flexibility with long-range attacks or debuffs. I might be able to even spread my focus around later. However, a class wasn’t a power or something offered by the system. It was a state of mind and a path to take forward. Being a mage meant researching my problem putting in the work through trial and error to develop a solution. It was considering my weaknesses instead of bulldozing my way through without caring. For now, I had an unreliable source of power and needed to master that to the point where being cucked wouldn’t stop me.

I could do that, so I focused on my breathing. My every breath felt harder than the last as I approached my limit. With every step, we approached the chief’s hut, and I felt myself breaking. Finally, my lungs reached the point of collapse, and I fought on. I would heal. That’s what I told myself with every breath as we walked on.

The interior of the chief’s hut was covered in spotted furs leading to a small seat where the chief a matronly elf with massive tits, thick kissable lips, and a dick on full display, including her sizeable pink foreskin.

Blood dripped down my nose and pooled over my upper lip before dripping down. Still, I sucked in a ragged breath and refused to drop the technique. The chief gave me a strange look before sighing at the sight of Samael and Elorael.

“So, you’ve found another girl for your little harem. Why am I not surprised? Please tell me you didn’t forgo the sacred rights and take her virginity outside a witness.” The chief said.

“Of course, not mother. I will honor our pact with the forest god and mate with a witness. The broken round ear and his minder will do fine.” Samael said.

“But not your own mother. Where did I go wrong with you? The broken are to be culled with no exceptions; instead, this one breaks himself with a bastardized breathing technique. Do you have no mercy?” The chief asked.

“My mate asked only for me to spare him and accept him as a member of the tribe. A bridal gift must be honored. So, if he masters his breathing technique, he will be a full member. You can’t castrate him either, mother, because he has broken no law and is under my protection.” Samael said.

She looked at me then and winked. My hands shook at the implication. I existed with my balls intact only thanks to her. What was her game? Or was she just a sadist?

“Our laws are not cruel; we don’t cull the unfit because we hate them. They will never be beautiful and often find it impossible to attract a mate. If they are to live, then we castrate them for their own good.” The chief said.

“Well, I tried. But, sorry, it looks like we’re going to have to castrate you for your own good. But, don’t worry, I’ll do it.” Samael said.

My eyes widened, but I kept breathing even when my lungs felt like they would explode. I refused to stop. A wetness dripped from my ears.

Two warriors grabbed my arms, and it felt like I was held by two giants. I couldn’t move an inch despite keeping up my technique. Even while I kept up my breathing, I fought against the two elves holding me, only for another two to come and grab my legs.

I swore then to get my revenge on them. I wouldn’t rest until their tribe was no more. Then I would kill their god and eat its brain just like it did to the sea god. All that came out of my mouth was a bloody gurgle as I breathed. Blood seeped from my eyes as my lungs protested, but I refused to drop the technique.

“Enough!” A voice called.

I turned to see a white-haired elf enter the chief’s house. The elf walked heavily on a cane but still appeared untouched by time.

“Zosimael, what is the meaning of this interruption.

“I would not speak against our god, and I am not the wisest of us, but this isn’t right. You claim not to be cruel, but this is the action of the skull tribe. They would waste his potential just like you’re trying to do. And I’ve never heard the law in the songs say anything about castrating a broken willingly joining our tribe. No, we are told to welcome those like him with open arms and make them us. None of us are castrated committing no crime.” Zosimael said.

“I don’t care what the songs say or don’t say. You won’t remember any of this in a few heartbeats, you old hag.” Samael said.

“That’s more than enough time to discipline you before I forget,” Zosimael said.

Elorael grabbed Samael by the ears.

“What are you doing?” Samael asked.

“If you don’t drop the knife, then mate or not, I will rip your ears off. In my tribe, those who suffer this dishonor take their own life. Is it the same here?” Elorael asked.

“Unhand my daughter, now.” The chief said.

Samael dropped the knife. “I like it when my wives have some spirit in them. I agree with her mother he should become a member of the tribe testicles intact.” Samael said.

The chief looked conflicted, and the other elves still hadn’t let me go.

“Glorael, this isn’t the hill to give your life for. The skull tribe has already sent one of their own to tempt us to join them. They won’t ask nicely much longer. We need every warrior.” Zosimael said.

“Very well, but you will be his minder. If he can’t master breathing constant within the week, he will be removed from the tribe and our lands. Let the skull tribe have him.” Glorael said.

…

Zosimael took me to her treehouse on the edge of the tribe. Inside, the home was covered in drying herbs with shelves of potions-filled clay pots. A splash of colored paint covered each pot, along with a picture hinting at what each pot contained. I sucked in a breath and felt my bones ache.

Keep breathing. I had to breathe even if I bled from my eyes and ears or my lungs exploded; I couldn’t stop. Stopping would make it impossible to move forward. So I had to think like a mage, and a mage knew how to make sacrifices. It wasn’t all about flashy attacks; sometimes, a strong foundation was needed, and I didn’t want to get kicked out after risking so much.

The old elf looked back at me then her eyes widened. “What is a round ear doing in my hut. Is little Glorael playing a prank on me? Should I have her mother give that girl a talking to?” Zosimael said.

“What a sharp memory you have. I bet you know what each pot contains. There’s no way you would forget something that important.” I said.

The old elf coughed. “Enough of that; if you live as long as I have, it’s easy to get lost in memories. I remember you. Samael played you for a fool and nearly took your balls. Glorael gave you a difficult task, and you’ve nearly killed yourself already. If you don’t give your body a break, your organs will shut down, and you will die.” Zosimael said.

I stared at the woman then shook my head. Stopping would only waste time; my healing factor would have to keep up. If it didn’t, then all my problems would be solved.

“If you die, then Samael will torture that girl you’re sweet on to death. Dear sweet Samael has had many wives, but none lasted long enough to bear a child. Besides, if you pass out during the mating ceremony, they will have to copulate again. Each copulation improves the chances of pregnancy. You don’t want that do you.” Zosimael said.

“Of course, I do, isn’t that the point of this, to prove Elarael’s value to the tribe and bear an heir to the chief’s line. She sacrificed her freedom for my sake without a second thought. If I freed her from this, she might do it again.” I said.

Every breath felt more difficult than the last, and talking to Zosimael felt like an exorcise in futility. She would forget everything in a few minutes.

“What if I told you I had a way to help you surpass your limits and fight Samael on equal footing?” Zosimael asked.

“No offense, but I don’t trust your potions. Besides, how would that help me get Elorael back?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, I work hard to make the best potions I can, but I’m forgetful, and I don’t know what half of these do or why I made them. I forget at the worst times, and when I come to, it’s like I’m in the past. But that doesn’t make my creations useless. Each of them has been tested on other tribesmen or skull tribe during our war. I wouldn’t have them on my shelf if they weren’t complete brews.” Zosimael said.

I stared at the elf. Zosimael had an ageless appearance like all elves with a slightly glazed look in her eyes. Her hands rested at her side and occasionally pulled at the hem of her pelt robe, exposing the tip of a reasonably large member. Most elves had pretty small breasts, Elorael included, but this elven woman had large breasts held tightly by a cotton wrap. She was lithe like most elves and only looked exotic with her silver hair.

My tongue moved over the roof of my mouth, feeling for the newly developed lumps. Even after Samael knocked my teeth out, I wasn’t ruined. My teeth were growing back at a steady pace. Even if every breath was agony, I managed to block most of that pain out. With every breath, my control over my body improved.

“Even if your brew can make an elf equal to Samael, that wouldn’t do me any good. I’m not an elf.” I said.

“I’m sorry again; I thought you were suffering from numerous birth defects. Still, you don’t have to be an elf to use this potion. I used some flesh from a stillborn forest god when I made it.

“Shouldn’t it be incompatible?” I asked.

“Not many know this, but breathing techniques are inconsequential. We become stronger by incorporating flesh from other gods, just like the gods do when they eat another of their kind. This potion is just the standard tonic for the elven children training to become warriors. Drink it, and you will gain some of the forest god’s powers.” Zosimael said.

I took a brown clay pot with a caricature of the forest god on it and pulled off the lid. A shinning green liquid bubbled, giving off a faint smell of pine.

“But what about different breathing techniques,” I asked.

“Well, the power isn’t in the breath; it's in the god. The breathing technique allows us to trick the power into believing we’re like the gods. So a forest god that eats a sea god has the same powers as a sea god that eats a forest god. Though its original powers will be stronger.” Zosimael said.

I turned the pot up and drank the strange liquid. All the while, I continued to breathe, keeping up my cycle. Once the pot was drained, I put it back on the shelf.

“Thief, what are you doing here and drinking my whole pot of forest god breathing primer. When Lucael finds out about this.” Zosimael said.

“So, how did you learn the secret of the gods?” I asked.

Her eyes glazed over, and after a while, she blinked a few times before getting back to normal. “I’m sorry; what was your question?” Zosimael asked.

I noticed a few things about her, like her nervous act. She liked to grab the hem of her robe and flash her cock at me. To make matters stranger, she also liked to stare at a particular pot with a skull-shaped kaiju on it. “How many people know that eating other gods grant increased power?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sorry. All I know is what my master taught me about brewing potions and what I’ve seen. We once traded with another village, and the chief and her children partook of the other village’s potions. We even sent our own. As a result, the chief and her daughters have always been stronger than other warriors. It makes sense when you think about it.” Zosimael said.

“What should I do about Samael?” I asked.

“Nothing at all; she is the daughter of the chief and can do whatever she wants with her new wife. That girl won’t submit to anyone weaker than her. So, you should give up unless you take my potion. Wait a moment while I get comfortable.” Zosimael said.

I stared at her before shaking my head. She must have forgotten that I already took the potion.

“What are the side effects of the potion?” I asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about your body heals quickly. I’m sure you’ll survive where no one else did.” Zosimael said.

I didn’t think she meant to tell me that. “So, the potion is incomplete,” I said.

“No, I worked on it tirelessly to squeeze out as much power as possible. For the better part of my youth, I worked to better the basic cultivation potion. I want to see what happens when you try to hold the power of two gods in your body.” Zosimael said.

“Then I’m not taking the potion,” I said as I felt my stomach rumble.

My breathing technique continued regardless.

“You must; I need to know if it’s possible to work out the secret of the chiefs’ power. If this potion works, then my speculations gain credibility.” Zosimael said.

Now that was interesting. Why was Zosimael after credibility, or better yet, what did credibility get her? Depending on the observer, she was a hot old elf with short-term memory loss or dementia. Although there was clearly some continuity with her. Well, how could I use that to benefit me? Despite being a bloody mess, I was horny as hell and needed some sex after the day I had.

To make matters worse, the pain from breathing intensified. Any rational man would have stopped, but I couldn’t turn it off. It happened right after I took the potion; breathing normally became impossible, leaving me with only the sea god’s breath. As wild as that sounded, it was true taking that potion had changed me, and I didn’t think I could go back.

In effect, my breathing technique gained permanence, and there wasn’t a thing I could do to turn it off. On the bright side, I wasn’t leaking blood like water from a sprinkler anymore. Well, that was it for the bright side. I felt hornier than ever, my lungs burned worse with every breath, and my muscles cramped in my legs. All of that could be ignored pain could be blocked out with enough sex. That was probably the easiest way to get over it.

Over on the side, there was a pot of clean water over a reflective bronze disk. Seeing myself didn’t fill me with confidence. Dried blood covered my mustache and beard, and my bottom lip was still split from Samael’s earlier beating. The wound was slow to heal, probably because of Samael’s lingering will. That or it needed some help.

I pinched the wound together and felt it knit together quickly. That was good to know. Maybe I should have learned how to stitch wounds.

“Do I have an inventory?” I asked the system.

“Inventories are upgradable subspaces. Higher ranked inventories can fit more items at larger sizes. Purchase the basic inventory at 100SP (Stylish Points). You can also download further apps and trade SP for equipment, information, and gotcha rewards.” Message said.

I purchased the inventory leaving me with 1956SP. Then I downloaded a home supply app and purchased a towel and a water bottle.

“Where did that come from?” Zosimael asked.

“From the ayther, I need to clean myself, and I doubt you want me to dirty up your drinking water,” I said.

“Your lips are attractive. Um, I’m sure you’ve heard my name already, but what’s your name?” Zosimael asked.

“Red,” I said.

“That’s a pretty name. I know you have your heart set on Elorael but are you exclusive?” Zosimael asked.

I thought about her question while I cleaned my face. Once the blood came free of my beard, and I drank down some of the water, I tossed the rest in my inventory. After poking my tongue against my lumpy gums, I felt the slight sharpness of new teeth poking out. Soon enough, I would have teeth again. That would make me feel less weird.

After a moment, all the dolphin girl dick came to mind filling me in that we weren’t exclusive. She was my friend that I had sex with, shared my time, and trusted with my life. We didn’t have to be exclusive because she wasn’t a human woman and didn’t think like one.

Thinking that way made me feel better. Elorael was the type of person to sacrifice herself for what she believed in, fuck dolphin girl throats, and rub her sexy ass against me. She taught me the secrets of her breathing technique and tried her best to save me. Knowing her had been a net positive on my life in this world, and she suffered because of me. Of course, I couldn’t let Samael kill her, but that didn’t exclude me from fucking other elves; if Elorael was here, she probably would say, let's double stuff this bitch. She was a bro that I could fuck.

I approached the silver-haired elf, pulled the sash on her pelt robe, and watched it part around her perky breasts. Without another word, I leaned forward and kissed Zosimael, and she tasted like honey. Her bandage-wrapped perky breasts pressed against my chest, and I felt my own dick harden. We kissed as I pressed the tip of my dick between her balls, hunting for what I wanted. She pulled my penis away and turned her head, blushing scarlet to her long pointy ears. With one ear pointed at me, I took a chance and slipped the tip of her ear in my mouth and sucked on it.

Zosimael moaned and rubbed my dick. I moved my left hand to her breast and ducked out her nipple from between the bandages, and slid the other hand down to her ass.

“You’re not supposed to suck on another elf’s ear; it puts us in heat.” I reached in and felt her soaked cunny and easily slipped a finger in to message her bumpy interior. She tightened on me and moaned. “We could get in trouble elves aren’t supposed to mate without a witness. I’m not supposed to mate anymore because of my age. But, um, there are other things we could do.” I raised an eyebrow as she walked over to her bed and sat down.

She pulled her foreskin back, revealing her massive futa dick, and grabbed the tip. “This feels good too,” Zosimael said and gently pressed a finger into the tip of her futa dick. I watched in shock as her finger sunk in, then she added a second before finger fucking her urethra. Pre cum oozed out of her tip as she messaged her bulbous head and stared at me longingly.

“Please fill my balls with your seed. Let’s mix our essence together. If you want to.” Zosimael said.

I approached her and experimentally pressed the tip of my finger into her urethra. The inside felt just as grooved as a pussy; it seemed to yawn open as I stuffed two and three fingers inside. Yet, for some reason, fisting it didn’t seem impossible.

“Ngh, stop. I’m at my limit; don’t stretch me out anymore.” Zosimael said.

Fucking her dick sounded very hentai, but it was a step too far for me. “Maybe we could try that after we got to know each other a little more,” I said and lowered my head and licked the pre off her head. Zosimael moaned as I pulled my fingers free and licked her urethra. Next, I grabbed ahold of her thick cock and pumped it, freeing a few more dollops of pre before licking away her salty sticky essence.

Her futa cock throbbed in my hand while her hips thrust. I pushed Zosmimael’s pink hood over her growing mushroom a few times before leaning down and kissing her tip. I let my hand slip down to cup her balls, really feeling how heavy they weighted in her snow-white sac. Then I moved my fingers past her heavy hanging sac and rubbed against her hidden slit.

She whimpered as I slipped a finger between her lips to feel the wetness within. Then, all at once, she loosened enough to slip a finger down to the knuckle before clamping down like a vice grip. With each clench, her cock throbbed, and I could tell she wasn’t going to last long. Finally, I slipped my mouth over her futa cockhead and moved my lips back and forth, careful to message the bottom glands.

All the while, neither of us broke our respective breathing techniques. Then Zosimael came splashing the inside of my mouth with thick ropes of futa elf cream. She tasted more salty than sweet, but I was developing a taste for futa elf cum. I didn’t pull away as she poured out load after load until my cheeks were bulging.

My mouth couldn’t handle much more, so I swallowed down what I could. Finally, I grabbed her balls and let her finish.

“I’m sorry, I’m so pent up, and no one wants to take care of me. You’re the first one who helped, and you’re not even a part of my tribe.” Zosimael said.

“What else are friends for?” I said while maintaining my sea god breathing technique.

Talking and not fucking really made the pain of constant use obvious. I already wrote off sleeping, so that left me with fucking. Until my body adjusted, all I could do was distract myself from the pain.

“Friends, huh, well then let me teach you something about our tribe. As the witnesses assigned to Samael’s mating ritual, we can delay the act by a week. If you let me teach you, then in a week, you will be strong enough to challenge Samael for Elorael.” Before I could say anything, she held up her hand. “It won’t be easy, and sometimes I forget where I am. I will forget and think I’m training Glorael instead. Her training to be the chief was harsh.” Zosimael said.

…

Challenge 3 Time limit 1 week

Finish Training with Zosimael and master Island Obliterating Fist

Reward: 6 Red Pills

Defeat Samael in a duel

Reward: 6 Blue Pills

Find A Cure for Zosimael’s Dementia

Reward: 6 Green Pills

…

The first two objectives seemed possible I was already on my way to mastering breathing constant, and her training would help with the rest. However, finding a cure for Zosimael’s dementia put forward some implications. Did I want to rock the boat?

I already rocked the boat when I let myself be eaten with Elorael. So, this wasn’t much different; the only question was, did Zosimael do it to herself, or did the chief do it to her. Samael might have had something to do with it, but I doubted that would stand with the chief daughter or not. So, I had to assume this was top-down.

If it was poison, I only needed to find the method and stop it without raising too much suspicion. On the bright side, as I looked through the open windows, I saw many young elf maidens peaking in. It seemed they weren’t above spying on us and rubbing one out. I waved at one, and she blushed scarlet before coming in her hand.

My attention returned to the elf in question; she still had her whites about her. That was a good sign; maybe the poison had to be applied regularly, and cutting it off would cure her. But, of course, that was pure speculation.

I approached her and held my dick out. She licked her lips and opened her mouth, showing off an impressive set of white teeth and an equally impressive cock hungry throat. She took my cock down to the base and swallowed effortlessly. I grabbed her ears gently and fucked her throat. Thoughts of intrigue fell to the back of my mind as she pulled back and sandwiched my cock between her fat elven titties.