Volume 6 Chapter 6 Triumph and the Pool of Wine and Forest of Meat*
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The air hung thick with the scent of shimmering death. The remains of the Corrosive Dragon, its molecular bonds shattered by “Absolute Zero,” cascaded down onto Silver Moon Village like fine diamond-dust snow that refracted the light of the setting sun.
The deadly powder that had once liquefied solid bedrock now stung the skin as nothing more than frigid frost, melting for a brief moment against the warmth of living bodies. What filled my lungs was no longer the stench of decay but the sharp, ionized ozone left behind by a world frozen to its core.
”…Did we win?”
The ragged whisper that leaked from someone’s throat shattered the frozen moment. A heavy silence hung for several seconds. Then the sudden collective exhalation of heat from dozens of surviving lungs shook the air like a physical shockwave of renewed life.
”OOOOHHHHHHHHH! LONG LIVE THE SPIRIT KING!”
The rhythmic thud of boots striking the earth blended with the dull slap of mud- and sweat-caked bodies colliding in sheer, unadulterated fervor. As the visceral realization of survival—dragged back from the very edge of death—set their blood boiling and widened their pupils to the limit, I stepped down from my platform of ice and entered the swirling vortex of their frenzy.
As if a wave were receding, the crowd parted before me. Without a word the Elves pressed their foreheads into the muddy earth, their backs trembling with ecstasy at the arrival of their absolute guardian.
”Lift your heads.”
My voice, rising from deep in my gut, physically silenced the roar around us.
”The threat is gone. I have exterminated the vermin that defiled my garden, leaving not even a speck of dust behind. …You all fought well. Very well. Tonight there are no formalities. I shall provide the finest meat. Eat until your stomachs burst.”
The moment my declaration struck their ears, the earth shook once more. A roar of joy like the cry of wild beasts tore through the curtain of night.
* * *
[Silver Moon Village, Central Square]
By the time the night air had settled, the square overflowed with grease and sweltering heat. On the crackling bonfires, orc meat and whole-roasted boar dripped fat that sizzled steadily over the coals. The savory aroma of scorched protein mixed with the sharp, acidic tang of cheap ale. The Elves, survivors of the deadly battle, gave off a dense, heavy musk of sweat and desire that filled the entire square with an intoxicating haze.
”Did you see that! My wife’s magic!”
A particularly sharp, booming voice rang out. It was Gael the stonemason. His face flushed dark red from the cheap liquor as his thick fingers gripped the waist of his equally flushed wife, Elara, sinking deep into her soft flesh.
”That massive bedrock magic! Elara couldn’t have put out that kind of power before! It came only because my King’s seed is packed deep inside her uterus!”
A dry thwack echoed as he slapped Elara’s bottom, making her voluptuous flesh ripple from the impact. In any other setting she might have bowed her head in shame, but Elara’s face shone with pure intoxicated bliss. Even while she stayed in her husband’s arms, her wet eyes still chased my phantom image and her lower body grew damp with arousal.
”Lucky you, Gael. Your wife’s skin is so glossy, it’s like it’s glowing.”
”I want to receive more of the King’s seed for my wife, too.”
The eyes of the men in the forest clung to Elara’s body with thick, syrupy heat. No jealousy burned there—only a pure, twisted faith and the desire for their own wives to receive the same miracle. By absorbing my DNA they had surpassed the limits of their biology, and before the overwhelming power of that gift, concepts like “chastity” became nothing more than meaningless scraps of paper.
”…My King.”
In the shade away from the clamor, I let lukewarm wine slide down my throat. Farrell, carrying the scent of iron and blood, approached and knelt with a heavy clatter of armor.
”I have been utterly defeated. In swordplay, in magic, and in my capacity as a commander… I am physically, utterly inferior to you.”
The murderous intent he had once directed at me had completely vanished. All that remained was the refreshingly clear resignation of a man who had bowed before absolute strength.
”Farrell, your command wasn’t bad either. …Drink.”
I tossed him the half-empty bottle. Farrell caught it in mid-air, held it up reverently, and drained it in one go. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently as a red droplet spilled from the corner of his mouth and trailed down his chin.
”…Exquisite.”
His short words dissolved into the night air.
* * *
Leaving the square behind, I descended the stairs to my private quarters with Serafina following close behind.
Click, clack. Our footsteps echoed through the cold stone corridor. Partway along we passed an altar emitting a faint pale green glow. Serafina stopped and pressed her clasped hands to her chest.
”…Ah. The Pearl is shining even more brilliantly this evening.”
Her profile looked soft, her eyes half-closed as she gazed at the stone.
”The Pearl, is it?”
”Yes. It is said that thousands of years ago, our Ancestor discovered this ‘Eternal Brilliance’1 in the Green Cavern and brought it home…. It is because of this light that we, the Silver Moon people, have endured.”
I continued walking and cast a sideways glance at the green light. The mystical radiance illuminated the dark underground, and in her eyes it was clearly a divine stone promising the survival of their entire people.
”I see. Cherish it well.”
”Yes… everything is as the King desires.”
Serafina smiled bewitchingly and placed her hand on the heavy, deep-set door. The hinges groaned as she opened it. A blend of sweet expensive scented oils and the damp humid scent of women washed over me. Magic stone lamps embedded in the walls bathed the dimly lit room in a warm amber hue. On the canopy bed lay two figures wrapped in thin silk.
”…We have been waiting for your return, Spirit King.”
It was Sylvia. And beside her, Rene. They wore thin silk negligees, but their bodies beneath already flushed with heat and the fabric clung to their skin with sweat and love fluids.
”Kept you waiting. …From here on, this is our private victory celebration.”
I untied the cord of my robe and stood naked with my legs apart. Their gazes locked onto the dark, pulsing veins at my crotch, full of terror, faith, and a burning searing hunger. The heat from their three distinct stares scorched my skin.
”First, Rene.”
”Ye-yes…! Papa…!”
Called by name, Rene started and her small shoulders trembled as she stepped forward. I sat deep in the sofa and beckoned her onto my lap. She felt light, like a fragile form that lacked substance, yet her bottom touching my thighs trembled and radiated heat.
”Well done. Your Ice Bullet exceeded my expectations.”
”O-oh… I’m, I’m sorry… I was scared, and I just… put too much into it…”
She ducked her head, teary-eyed and clearly fearing a reprimand. At that moment I felt the area around her lower abdomen—her bladder—contract tightly against my skin. Fear had triggered an urge that became a switch for pleasure.
”No need to apologize. …But your control is weak. A cold, monstrous thing, the same as mine, sleeps inside you. It requires discipline.”
”D-discipline…?”
”Yes. As a reward, I shall teach you directly. …Grow up, Rene.”
I hooked my fingers into her sheer undergarments and slid them aside. Her undeveloped bud lay revealed and terribly wet. A mucus I could not distinguish—whether urine born of fear or nectar of arousal—coated the pink membrane and trailed in thin threads. I pushed my middle finger inside without mercy.
”Hyaaaah!? Oh, it’s… hot…!”
It felt tight. I forced my mana-infused finger through the walls of flesh that tried to reject the intrusion, feeling the inner folds suck at my fingerprint and pulse. Paternal protection and masculine violence mixed together as I melted the frozen fear at her core with the heat of physical friction.
”Next, Serafina.”
While I continued stirring inside Rene’s body, I looked up at the High Priestess waiting nearby. She wore the face of a compassionate mother, but her pupils had dilated into black pools as she stared at my cock with the hunger of a predator.
”The purification of the poison gas was magnificent. …You were able to neutralize that poison precisely because you have continuously accepted my ‘impurity’.”
”I am unworthy of such praise…. My King, my vessel is empty.”
Serafina knelt on the floor and pressed her cheek against my hardness. Her hot breath washed over the tip.
”The light of that purification was fueled by the holy mud I received from you. …I have exhausted it. Please, replenish me.”
She lifted her hips and aligned the tip against her secret place. The wet entrance opened and closed like a hungry mouth waiting for its prey. I thrust my hips forward, invading her abundant womb deeply and heavily.
Squish, slorp…
The incredible density of a vessel aged through 1,200 years swallowed my length to the hilt, tightening around me with the resolve not to let a single drop escape.
”Nn, aah…! I am filling up…! The King’s life, into this empty vessel…!”
And finally Sylvia. She waited on all fours at the edge of the bed, staring intently at us as we joined. A steam-like red aura radiated from her entire body while her temperature climbed toward runaway excitement.
”Sylvia. You are my sword of pride, and my strongest shield.”
My words acted as the trigger. She lunged forward as if launched from a bow. Words became unnecessary. She bit down on my lips, twisted her tongue into mine, and greedily devoured my saliva like a starving beast. The survival instinct that had endured the dragon’s breath on the front lines now exploded into uncontrollable sexual desire.
”Spirit King! Break me… break me completely…!”
With my left hand I crushed Rene’s immature clitoris, with my lower body I pounded into Serafina’s uterine opening, and with my right hand I grabbed Sylvia’s abundant breast. A banquet of flesh unfolded—a sweet, hellish spectacle where three beautiful women mingled and clawed at each other to claim the single prize that was me. The room filled only with the wet sounds of colliding bodies and the gasping cries of those who had lost all reason.
* * *
Hours later the frantic banquet had ended, and a heavy silence stained with the scent of semen and sweat returned to the room.
The three beauties slept like the dead, each wearing an expression of utter fulfillment. Rene sucked her finger in my arms, Serafina hugged her lower abdomen lovingly while she savored the lingering heat inside her womb, and Sylvia lay with her cheek pressed against my leg in deep, unprotected sleep. A sea of flesh stretched before me. The most valuable women in this world existed here as my property.
I slipped out of bed without a sound and stood by the window, still naked. I held my wine glass up to the moonlight. A perfect victory. A perfect domination. A perfect paradise. Everyone adored me, craved me, and lived for me.
”…Not a bad night.”
I downed the wine. The bouquet that should have tasted mellow passed through my nose as nothing more than the volatile smell of alcohol. On my tongue spread only the flat, sand-like tastelessness.
I should have felt satisfied. Yet the hollow wound deep in my chest seemed to whistle a cold, desolate tune. I looked at my own face reflected in the glass. It was not the face of the man who had become King of the Elves, but the face of a helpless lost child floating like a ghost.
A faint numbness tingled in my fingertips.
—Papa, are you done with work?
Suddenly Yuki’s laughter popped into the back of my mind. Piercing through the heavy smell of semen and scented oil, the comforting aroma of Sachiko’s miso soup wafted from the kitchen and tickled my nostrils along with the scent of dashi and the white steam rising from the boiling pot.
I stared at myself in the glass once more. The figure of a King who had conquered the world was nowhere to be found. Standing there was only a lost man, unable to release his attachment to that muddy ordinary “Protagonist Family,” shivering inside his artificial paradise.
”…Yuki, Sachiko. Wait for me. I will return, I promise.”
My whisper, heard by no one, was carried away and extinguished by the night wind. I drank the last of the wine in the glass, but the taste remained as flat as sand to the very end.
—
Summary:
The battlefield clears following the brutal slaying of the Corrosive Dragon, leading to a decadent victory celebration in Silver Moon Village. Ryuichi indulges in the orgiastic worship of his subordinates, yet finds himself increasingly haunted by phantom memories of his past life. The chapter concludes with a jarring contrast between his absolute power as King and his internal sense of isolation and longing.
—
Trivia:
The Pearl is an ancestral relic believed to be the source of the Silver Moon people’s endurance.
Ryuichi’s control over his followers is cemented by the biological impact of his “seed,” which creates a dependent, cult-like obsession among the Elves.
The “wind-hole” in Ryuichi’s chest symbolizes his rejection of his new, powerful reality in favor of his forgotten human family.
Rene’s physiological reaction to fear—the connection between her bladder and her arousal—is a recurring, manufactured defect Ryuichi exploits.
The “Spirit King” title, while divine, acts as a cage for Ryuichi, isolating him from the mundane domesticity he subconsciously craves.
—
Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Elara – A 120-year-old Elf unit commander and wife of Gael, she possesses a voluptuous physique and striking moonlit silver hair. Rejuvenated and magically enhanced by the King, she now commands ground-based earth magic with vibrant power. Despite her strength, she hides deep-seated insecurities regarding past infertility and struggles against the King’s manipulative sexual influence over her.
• Gael – A thick-built, mud-covered elf warrior and stonemason from Silver Moon Village, he serves as a disciplined, boisterous field foreman. Devoted to the King who spared his life, he leads repairs with military authority and a warhammer. Fiercely protective of his wife, Elara, he balances his deep gratitude to the Crown with a sharp, vigilant pride in his marriage and his duties to the village.
• Farrell – A captain of the Elf garrison and skilled vanguard commander, he leads with sharp, procedural authority and recognizes the King’s absolute superiority. An elf warrior defined by his thunderous roar, spirit-shattering strength, and aura of green phosphorescent light, he remains shaped by his past defeat by Ryuichi, though he continues to command his troops with unyielding martial discipline.
• Serafina – A silver-haired Elf High Priestess and devoted handmaiden to Ryuichi, she balances refined elegance as leader of Silver Moon Village with deep religious service. She manages the household, maintains the World Tree, and channels the Spirit King’s power through her white robes. While wielding sacred magic, she remains visibly nervous when guarding the sealed domain, viewing herself as a pure vessel.
• Spirit King – The male protagonist who acts as the sole source of mana for the Elf village ritual. He possesses limitless stamina and approaches his duties with detached efficiency.
• Sylvia – A voluptuous white-blonde elf and Silver-rank vanguard known as “Crimson Lotus,” is a formidable warrior and loyal shield to King Ryuichi. Expert with longsword and bow, she channels crimson Spirit Power, viewing combat as obsessive courtship. A mentor to vanguard warriors, she possesses intense survival instincts and a fiery temperament, serving as Ryuichi’s devoted confidante while guarding John and Nier.
• Rene – A fragile, timid Elf archer and member of the King’s harem, she struggles to control the raw, unpredictable Mana bursts triggered by her fear. Following a banquet and overnight processing, she now sleeps alongside the others, caught in a state of blissfully stunned exhaustion.
• Priest – An old man with a long white beard who performs detoxification magic at the local church. He wears white robes and maintains a professional, albeit expensive, approach to divine healing.
• Sachiko – A person from the narrator’s past on Earth. Implied to be the narrator’s wife or ex-wife.
• Yuki – The four-year-old daughter of Okabe, Shoko, and the narrator. Born with a monkey-like face that grew to be very cute, she loves birthday cake and is remembered from a kindergarten playground on Earth.
• Ryuichi – The protagonist. The 40-year-old Spirit King of the Grimm mansion and elf village, this imposing, analytical ruler possesses a plain build, black hair, beard, and jet-black eyes. Holding Japanese past-life memories, he wields god-like mana and space magic with cold, absolute authority. While his past power once enslaved Helga, his current absence has spurred new, growing intimacy between Nier and Helga.
• Ryu – A man with Interdimensional Magic who leads a growing household. He acts as a provider and protector for his slaves, while maintaining a pragmatic and blunt personality.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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