Chapter 36 Two People’s Time
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
When we returned to the surface, the sky had begun to darken.
As a finale, we decided to dine together and entered a nearby casual eatery. We ordered a wide variety of dishes so everyone could share, and soon the eight-person table was filled, practically overflowing. I thought, Did we overorder? but then resolved that worst case, I’d just eat extra.
We each gripped a mug. It wasn’t alcohol, but a local specialty juice related to Crafting from Whirlwind. My drink was Crafting Ginger Brew, and the others had ordered different varieties.
”Then, to commemorate clearing the 30th floor!”
”To celebrate the Julon couple’s engagement!”
Following my cue, Torakuma added something outrageous. Ethelena glared red-faced at Torakuma, but Torakuma just grinned like she’d succeeded in a prank.
”Cheers!!”
Torakuma shouted, and we clinked mugs. Clink, a crisp sound, then we tipped the mugs and drank. Maybe because our bodies were thirstier than expected, I ignored the carbonation, ginger spice, and aroma, and downed about two-thirds in one go.
The cold liquid slid down my throat and settled in my stomach. It struck me just how exhausted and overheated my body had become.
”Kuuuaaahhh~♪”
Torakuma let out an exultant shriek like a bird’s call. It seemed a little old-manish, but I understood the urge to make such a sound.
”That spicy drink hits right when you’re tired…”
”Right, Chii-chan, after fatigue, Crafting really gets into you.”
”Chii-chan?”
Ethelena began calling Tatia by that nickname—she hadn’t in the dungeon. Compared to Torakuma, this was late, but this must be Ethelena’s way of recognizing friendship. At first, with the old, uncommunicative Tatia, it would’ve been impossible—but now she judged it safe. I guessed Ethelena avoided “Chi-chan” for Tatara to prevent confusion with my own name.
I popped a bite of sauerkraut from my plate. In Whirlwind, many shops pride themselves on homemade sauerkraut flavored with unique spice blends, and this shop favored a low-salt profile. However, the owner’s skill was hiding a sharp kick beneath that mild saltiness to stimulate appetite. Indeed, my hunger welled up. I tossed a bite of fried chicken into my mouth—its fat mingled with the sauerkraut’s salt to create exquisite umami. The meat’s rich juices, tempered by the salt, lifted the flavors; only then did I realize there was a faint citrus note in the sauerkraut.
That citrus twist refreshed my palate—I marveled at the proprietor’s care. Ethelena was enjoying a salad. She likes both meat and veggies, but places priority on vegetables. Meanwhile she jokes about being “meat-type at night,” since she’s often the main dish (her social role). Torakuma went heavy on seafood dishes. In a world reminiscent of the old Japan, fish might’ve been more common than meat; though I expected her palate would favor lighter flavors, she went all-in on rich tastes—probably a youth trait. She dug into white fish fries; I’ll probably snag some later.
Tatia’s plate showed no imbalance: a perfect ratio of vegetables to protein. I wouldn’t have expected such fastidiousness mid-quest. Though a concubine, she carries royal blood; even though her origins are obscure, perhaps it’s not so strange. I observed while enjoying sausage and sauerkraut—and noticed my own Crafting Ginger Brew was gone. I asked the waitress for a refill, scanning which dishes and drinks had diminished.
Torakuma ordered a refill. Ethelena and Tatia deferred. As I handed her my empty mug, we resumed eating. Until the Crafting Ginger Brew arrived, I sipped pot-au-feu as a stopper. Onions, daikon, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, and bacon all lent flavor to the broth, warming the chilled stomach as though resetting my internal fire. I thought, I should’ve been alert. I scooped a spoonful of vegetables. The cabbage, even from near the core, was cooked so tender it collapsed under tongue pressure. Its soaked broth rushed out, flooding my palate with heat and flavor.
”Ahhyui!?”
The word burst out before I could hold it back—I clamped my hand to my mouth, trying to prevent any spill. I’m not exactly a cat-tongued person, but my guard was down.
Ethelena, startled, passed me her drink: a carbonated mix of tangy apple, cinnamon, and honey—one of the easier Crafting blends.
”Thanks, Ethelena.”
”No worries… but was it really that hot?”
”Not that hot, but I hadn’t accounted for how much liquid the vegetables held.”
”Then I’ll try some too.”
Torakuma, watching me, ladled soup into her bowl, blew on it to cool, and took a sip.
”Ahhyui!?”
The soup still turned out quite hot. She panicked, grabbed from her remaining drink. It was like a time-delayed attack after eating vegetables. Clearly worse than my reaction, though.
”Could it be that bad? It’s a really good pot-au-feu though.”
”Tatara, you’re kind of cat-tongued, ya know? You just don’t notice it.”
Ethelena blurted that, and I cracked a grin.
”That’s part of the charm you show,” she said.
”Yeah. Cute in that way.”
Ethelena and Tatia sipped more calmly. Their reactions weren’t as dramatic; they chatted amicably, though I could sense the discussion had veered into embarrassing territory. If I tried to jump in, I’d probably end up in hell.
”Tatara, that’s pretty hot!? I mean… it’s delicious, okay?”
”Really, you’re sensitive to heat, Torakuma?”
”I just don’t like things too warm, that’s all!”
We bantered excitedly when the waitress brought drinks. She looked a bit forced-smiled—probably uneasy amidst our energy.
”Ah, thank you.”
”Um, thank you as well.”
”Excuse me, miss, can I get another apple-honey-cinnamon?”
”And I’d like tea flavor, please.”
”Certainly, right away!”
* * *
Ethelena and Tatia also placed additional orders after Torakuma and I expressed thanks. The waitress acknowledged with a smile and walked away.
We spent about two more hours in cheerful company before the party’s gathering dispersed. I covered the bill in full, though Torakuma and Tatia looked a little dissatisfied. As the registered leader, it fell to me to represent us, but it seemed they weren’t fully convinced.
”Tatara, if you always pay up front, others might question our independence. Worse, people may assume you’re keeping us as dependents.”
”Tatara-dono, I’m a knight. I’ve built some savings as well.”
With both of them making their case, I decided that next time we would split evenly. In any case, I was covering for myself and Ethelena, so half the burden was mine by default.
I escorted the ever-wayward Torakuma back to the central district, parted ways with Tatia along the road, and continued home with Ethelena. Our hands linked naturally, fingers interwoven, as we walked slowly, side by side.
There was no particular conversation, only a quiet, peaceful flow of time. Distant street sounds, the night wind carrying the scent of life, a moon shining even brighter than the street lamps—it all surrounded us. Only the rhythm of our footsteps echoed along the path home.
Suddenly, I felt something touch the opposite shoulder from where our hands were entwined. Looking, I saw Ethelena’s wing had extended, folding around me as if to embrace. Glancing at her, I realized she had unconsciously pressed herself closer, clutching my arm.
A mischievous impulse stirred. I stroked the wing draped over my shoulder, surprised by its smooth, pleasant texture.
”Mnnii!?”
Ethelena gave a startled cry, then realized where her wing was. Her face flushed crimson. To heighten her embarrassment, I leaned in and pressed a loud kiss against the wing.
Her blush deepened, and with a burst of motion she leapt at me. Likely intending to stop me out of embarrassment—but too late. I caught her head-on, pulling her into my arms, and sealed her lips with mine.
We had already promised marriage. At this moment, I felt invincible, Ethelena. If I wished, I could stand on a stage before the entire school and proclaim my love with a kiss.
After about five seconds, we parted, gazing into each other’s eyes. Ethelena’s face bore a storm of emotions—anger, happiness, shyness all intermingled. Then, with a decision, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to mine again. This time she lingered for ten full seconds, until she was satisfied. When she pulled back, we looked into each other’s eyes again—and laughed, simultaneously.
Laughing and teasing each other that way, we finally reached our home.
Ethelena handed me her equipment set, and I headed to the workshop. With the gear entrusted by our companions as well, I began maintenance—including for that idiot’s weapon.
Tatia’s unfamiliarity with her estoc showed in its heavy wear, so I repaired hers first. Next came the Demonsteel greatsword I had loaned to Torakuma; though the blade was dull, it had cut through golems, leaving damage along the edge. Ethelena’s Lonisera only carried a fine layer of mana dust—little real degradation.
Once I finished the party’s gear, I pulled out the idiot’s iron sword. I disassembled the blade, corrected the bends, sharpened the edge, cleared dust from the grip, and reassembled. Afterward, an Appraisal revealed it had gained enhancement to +4. Good—he can earn more for us now.
Then I moved into the forge at the back of the workshop. From inventory, I laid out iron ingots and iron ore he’d deposited. First, I extracted iron from the ore, separating stone and metal with the Alchemy skill, just enough to form another ingot. With that, the material for a new iron sword was complete.
I placed the two ingots into the furnace. The flames drew mana from the Spiritual Vein beneath the house, producing several times the heat and mana of a normal forge. This made heating quicker, and the embedded mana improved the metal’s inherent quality.
This method couldn’t be used for advanced magical arms like the Fiero I forged for Calmys-san, but for simpler weapons it produced superior results. One day I wanted to craft weapons here for Torakuma and Tatia as well—though in Torakuma’s case, it would wait until her family’s promised katana materials arrived.
I transferred the red-hot iron to the anvil and hammered it. In my previous life, katana forging was a team job, but here, with raw physical ability four times greater than average, I could manage alone. Using Appraisal to monitor the ingot’s condition and Crafting to control my movements, I struck with precision down to less than 0.0001 mm of deviation, extending the metal evenly.
Once blade length was reached, I folded it and hammered again, mimicking forging techniques I’d once seen. Folding expelled impurities and created strengthening layers. Each impurity’s expulsion distorted the interior, so I hammered them smooth again—like debugging code in a program.
Eighteen folds later, with only 0.001% variance across the body, the blade section was complete.
I quenched it in a trough of water filled with mana drawn from the Spiritual Vein. The abrupt temperature shift hardened the bonds, strengthening the steel. The mana-infused water absorbed the heat without boiling into steam—pure water designed for forging in a world of swords and magic.
When cooling finished, I checked with Appraisal and drew out the blade. It was blackened across the whole surface. I prepared several whetstones, grinding from coarse to fine. The dark blade shifted to a dull silver, then to a sheen like a mirror.
The finished blade I held aloft—shaped as a single-edged straight sword, adapted from the quirks of the original. Despite differences, it was still classified as an “iron sword” in this world’s system.
I fashioned a handle from scrap wood, carving it to fit the user’s grip, and mounted the blade. Another Appraisal confirmed the result:
—One-handed sword “Iron Sword” +6
—Physical Attack +5 +6
—Range 1
—Special Ability: None
It was higher quality than the original entrusted to me. But as his first official commission, such service was acceptable. I crafted a quick scabbard, sheathed the sword, tagged it as completed, and placed it on the delivery shelf. Stretching wide, I let out a long breath.
Swinging the hammer in the forge felt good again, like coming home. My ‘Crafting’ began here, I think—not with the Earth Mother Goddess accessory I made for my parents, but the sword for ‘Archangel.’ That’s my origin. Sorry for being a bad son, I thought, glancing at the Earth Mother Goddess series, my parents’ keepsake.
* * *
Entering the living room for water, I saw Ethelena gazing out the window. Circling behind her, I spotted a massive red moon in the sky.
This world has two Moon Goddesses, sisters, they say. The elder, Red Moon Goddess, rules madness and fertility; the younger, Blue Moon Goddess, governs serenity and peace, or so their sects claim. Past works mentioned this, and ‘Archangel’ taught me more after my reincarnation, giving me some knowledge of the gods.
On red moon nights, creatures’ mana peaks, fueling various rituals, according to records. Some say the moon’s madness stirs reckless passion, leading to unexpected lives—hence the cynical link to ‘fertility.’
The Red Moon Goddess genuinely holds fertility as her domain, so it’s unfair blame.
Thus, this world has blue, red, and sunlight-reflecting yellow moons.
* * *
”Tonight, the moon’s so beautiful. I didn’t notice on the way back, but looking up from here, it just struck me,” Ethelena said, our eyes meeting in the window’s reflection.
Looking again, I saw a full moon, radiant.
”I’ve been so caught up in dungeons, I forgot to look at the moon. But tonight, it feels brighter, more beautiful… I’ve been staring,” she said softly.
Her quiet voice drew my gaze to the red moon, its gentle light bathing the town.
I slipped behind her, wrapping my arms around her. Blaming the red moon for my longing, I poured my affection into my beloved.
Pressing Ethelena gently against the window, I drew her into a fervent embrace, our connection deepening under the moon’s glow. Her warmth welcomed me, fluid and eager, as if the red moon had stirred her heart. Shifting her clothing aside in my haste, the fabric clung to us, a minor distraction.
The fabric felt in the way, but I focused on our rhythm, the heat of her closeness overwhelming my senses as I sought deeper connection.
Ethelena’s reflection showed flushed cheeks, her breaths misting the glass. Her quiet gasps hinted at more need, so I brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck softly. Her sweet sigh spurred me to lift her shirt, revealing her pale pink undergarment from the dungeon run. My hand slipped beneath, tracing her curves tenderly.
Her breaths grew ragged, her warmth tightening around me, pulling me closer.
Leaning close, I grazed her slightly pointed ear—a succubus trait—with a gentle nip.
”Nn!? Don’t eat my ear!” she squeaked.
Her reaction was vivid, her warmth tightening further, pulsing with intensity. It stirred a playful thrill in me.
”Protesting, but you’re loving it, huh?” I whispered.
Her body trembled, her tightening grip betraying her excitement.
”Look at your face in the glass,” I said.
She glanced at her reflection, her dazed look belying any protest.
”Let the moon see your joy,” I murmured.
I eased her clothing aside, pressing her closer to the glass. The contrast of her warmth against the cold surface—or perhaps the moon’s gaze—made her tremble faintly.
The intensity overwhelmed me, and I surrendered to the moment’s peak. Our shared passion left a faint trace, pooling beneath us—a surreal mark of this world’s strangeness.
Supporting Ethelena’s panting form, I noticed her sweat and soot scent. Whispering my next move, I said, “Let’s hit the bath.”
* * *
In the steam-filled bathroom, Ethelena lay on a pink mat, lifting her hips invitingly, legs parted. Her head tilted slightly, her gaze urging me closer.
She’s usually so serious, but her succubus instincts shine through—an alluring contrast.
Following her cue, I drew close, our connection reigniting with familiar warmth. Her welcoming embrace never dulled, her succubus nature weaving sensations that defied habit, likely heightened by Sex Sorcery.
Tatara Julon can’t escape Etheline Nelara Baral. I think I’m in control, but I’m just feeding her desires. Fulfilling her wishes brings me joy, though—I’m thoroughly hooked.
”More… harder,” she urged.
I pressed closer, our rhythm echoing in the steam. Her voice grew higher, sweeter. Her heavenly beauty, drunk on passion, stoked my need to hold her closer.
Despite the earlier peak, I felt the urge again. Diving deep, I surrendered to the moment. Ethelena met me, her own release splashing softly, a shared mark of delight. As I eased back, she sank to the mat, trembling and panting.
My body still craved her.
Lifting her to a half-sitting position, I held one leg and straddled the other—Matsuba Kuzushi, a position from my past life’s knowledge. Her open form welcomed me as I sank into her a third time.
The sensation of being connected even deeper than before left Ethelena with a bewildered expression, still caught in the lingering warmth of their closeness.
Gazing at her, I moved closer, our bodies entwined in a slow, deliberate rhythm. No longer pulling away as before, I shifted gently, exploring her reactions with each motion, seeking the spark in her eyes.
With every movement, Ethelena let out soft, sweet gasps, but one particular motion drew a sharper cry. I’d found the rhythm that stirred her most deeply; from there, instinct took over.
Not lingering on just one motion, I varied my touch, teasing different moments of connection. Holding her close, I let my hands wander to her curves—they seemed softer lately, or was it my imagination? I wondered idly if a child might change things, thoughts drifting to a distant future.
Our rhythm quickened naturally, Ethelena’s breaths turning short and sharp. A rush like lightning surged through me, overwhelming in its intensity—the strongest yet, despite being the third time.
Keeping her close, legs gently parted, I leaned in, our faces near. Ethelena, with a flexibility that would awe any acrobat, met my gaze and drew me into a deep, lingering kiss, our connection still pulsing.
Perhaps her succubus essence fueled my endless energy, sparking anew with each moment. I felt ready again, almost instantly.
Fearing I’d overwhelm her if I stayed atop, I shifted us, letting her rest against my chest. Ethelena nestled close, her fingers playfully tracing my skin.
Her touch—sometimes a graze, sometimes a tease—sent shivers through me. My body arched under her delicate exploration, and she adjusted, drawing us closer still. Holding my face, she kissed me, her movements a dance of shared passion.
The sensation was unearthly; her succubus grace unraveled my restraint. Pressed close, her every motion sent sparks where our bodies met, a strange, thrilling warmth. Was this our unique harmony, or just her nature as a succubus? I couldn’t tell.
Even as I tried to focus elsewhere, Ethelena caught my gaze, teasing me further with a playful press of her warmth against mine, making my breath catch. Her smile widened, and she continued, delighting in my reactions.
Reason slipped as I gripped her hips, moving with her in return. Ethelena rose slightly, pressing closer, our connection deepening with every shared motion.
Each movement sent her curves swaying, a sight that fueled my helpless adoration. Her evident delight only heightened the intensity, her rhythm growing fiercer.
A fourth surge of passion overwhelmed me, and I held her close, lost in the moment’s peak. Ethelena trembled, her own climax echoing mine, before she sank against me, breathless.
Our faces near, our lips met in a quiet, mutual pull. Then, a spark stirred within me, ready for another round.
She’s weaving some kind of Sex Sorcery, I thought, diving into the fifth dance.
* * *
After several rounds—likely shy of double digits—Ethelena and I soaked together in the bath. She unfurled her wings, once tucked small, now wrapping me in their full, protective embrace.
Perhaps it’s a trait of winged races, succubi included, to show love this way. She even pressed a mark against my neck—how deeply am I loved? Our closeness lingered, unspoken.
* * *
”Sorry, I got carried away, always losing myself in you.”
Apologizing like that, I saw Ethelena’s puzzled look. We’d chosen marriage, exchanged rings—why the regret? Yet our bond began from her instincts, and I’d followed desire’s pull, heedless of consequences. Belatedly, I realized my recklessness.
”…That time you held back, thinking of the future, right?”
”Yeah, when we were swept up in drink.”
Less than a month ago, yet it feels like another life amid these vivid days.
”Back then, I felt so empty.”
Saying that, Ethelena touched her abdomen gently.
”I… had this selfish thought about you.”
Pausing her touch, she wrapped her arms around me, clinging tight. I stroked her hair, like calming a child on the verge of tears.
”If I carried your child, I could bind you to me.”
”No, that’s…”
Honestly, I’d take responsibility, whatever she chose. Marriage now binds us, but I was ready for any cost she named.
”Even without marriage, I wanted to keep your child… but then you cried, saying you loved me.”
”God, that memory makes me want to vanish.”
”I’m so happy we felt the same!”
Her voice rose, but her smile shone bright.
”When you found me, I’d given up on everything. If you’d wanted me then, I’d have surrendered my future to bear your child.”
”…I held out pretty well back then.”
Her openness was a feast laid bare—my hesitation as a virgin saved me from diving in.
”Yet we came together after I grew stronger.”
”That was pure predation…”
Her advance on a virgin was near-trauma, especially from someone I was falling for.
”In hindsight, it saved me too.”
”I thought I’d die.”
”Hehe, sorry.”
Talking like that, we left the bath before we wrinkled. Twice more, I lost myself in her, likely passing double digits.
After seeing Ethelena to her room, I entered the workshop.
From Inventory, I pulled the ‘Floating Stone’ and set it on the workbench, ready to study its levitating nature.
Despite the exertion with Ethelena, my body—likely infused with her essence—felt vibrant.
I began analyzing the mana’s wavelength, using my ‘Appraisal’ and the workbench’s tools to check if its energy matched a levitation spell’s pattern.
As I worked, the workshop door creaked open. Turning, I saw Ethelena.
But something was wrong. Her small horns had grown strikingly larger.
Notes:
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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