My world to Free-use

**Chapter 261**

I took my place at Elara’s other side and kept my mouth shut.

That was the job. Stand. Bow when needed. Look like the next pair of hands she might send for a cup, a letter, or a body. Valeria already had the left shoulder. I had the right, a step back, where a man of my standing belonged when the church was in this office.

I gave the two men the look they were worth.

The priest was older. Short hair. Patient face. A white robe, as traditional was in these settings. He sat like sitting was part of a rite. The paladin behind him was younger, jaw tight, armor too close to George’s for it to be an accident. Sword. Shield. The kind of gold that had been worn in a fight. Or at least looked like it. I noted both of them the way I noted furniture and moved on.

The nun was the reason the room had my attention.

Nun porn was one of the best genres I had ever wasted a night on, and also one of the fakest. Real cloth never sat like that on a screen. Real vows never survived the first button. The women in those clips were actresses in costumes, chests shoved up, dresses worn as a joke. I knew that. I had always known that. Yet I was still turned on by them. It was one of my greatest fantasies. I always wanted a religious girl in my bed. Unfortunately, I had already fulfilled that dream in many of my other worlds. But damn…

The one that sat in Elara’s office and left them in dust in every way possible.

White robes. Would have loved the traditional black and white, but I had gotten used to it since only nuns on earth dressed like that.

Her robes were heavy. Meant to hide a person. They didn’t. Her tits held the cloth up in front whether the cut wanted them to or not, a full, serious pair that turned holy fabric into a problem of engineering.

Soft eyes over the veil. That was all I got of the face. Nose and mouth covered, which was a crime, because the little the veil allowed still made me want the rest.

The robe was baggy through the middle. I couldn’t tell if she had a chubby stomach, a thick or narrow waist, or just more cloth.

I could tell about the ass. She was sitting, and it still spilled to both sides on the couch, heavy enough that the robe had given up and was only following. Not a maybe. Not a trick of folds. A real ass under church white, spreading on Elara’s furniture like the furniture had been built too narrow.

I looked too long.

[A new quest has arrived]

My eyes flickered as I cursorily glanced over the contents of the quest. I eyed the nun.

The nun’s chest was still doing more work than the paladin’s armor, and Elara had already started the meeting by not starting it.

The priest spoke first. It was strange that the meeting had started only after I arrived, but if the people of the church were even a little politically wise, they’d see it as a power move from Elara. You don’t speak unless I tell you to. That was the message calling me here gave them.

“Lady Elara.” The man respectfully said, but instead of going into pleasantries he got straight to the point, “We come regarding King George.”

“I assumed as much.”

Elara’s voice was sharp and small. No welcome. No nothing. She sat as she had been sitting when I walked in, one hand on the desk, eyes on him.

“The church has reviewed his last hours,” the priest said. “We do not believe he fell only to monsters in the field.”

Valeria didn’t move. She didn’t know much of anything anyway. But she had an idea.

I, of course, didn’t move either.

The paladin’s glove flexed once on the edge of his belt and went still. I didn’t miss that. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. The paladin was making it that easy. A trick? Maybe. Not necessarily so.

“He died after pursuing a heretic,” the priest said.

Elara’s head tilted the smallest amount.

“A heretic?”

The way she said it made the word sound new. Not shocked. Not frightened. Uninformed, on purpose or not. If I had not watched her feed a cover story to a dead king’s history, I might have believed she was hearing it for the first time.

“Yes.” The priest folded his hands in his lap. “The church does not speak of the term outside our walls. Very few beyond the cloth are meant to know.”

“And you are speaking it in my office.”

“Because George death was related to this incident, and so were you, and because the matter did not end when he fell.” He glanced at the paladin, then back. “We call them Demons.”

For a second I almost relaxed.

Demons. Fine. This world had to have a word for the things that lived in old stories and church ledgers. Some horned fool in a forest. Some cult in a valley. Some other man who had picked a fight with a paladin-king and gotten him chased off a map. It did not have to be me. It did not have to be the race name I still barely understood. Lapsari was a system line I had woken up to in an empty room. These people were talking about George and classified information.

Then the priest kept going.

“They are capable of severing a woman’s connection to the goddess, making it unable for them to have children.”

Fuck.

Not a monster in a wood. Not a random heretic with a grudge. A thing that touched women. A thing that reached the one line this world still treated as holy. Children came from the goddess, from the temple, from whatever method they used when men had only stubs. If something could cut that connection, the church would burn cities to find it.

My kind.

Or close enough that it didn’t matter.

I kept my face servant-flat. Connection to the goddess.

Elara did not look at me. She would have been stupid to. But now she had an idea. She had already known about my special physique.

“You are saying George died chasing such a creature,” she said.

“We are saying that is the church’s present reading.”

“Present,” Elara repeated.

The priest accepted the word without fighting it.

“King George was a paladin before he was a king. When a paladin senses a break in the goddess’s law, he is bound to follow it. The field that night was not only monsters. Something else was there. Something that should not be able to stand near a woman and leave her… changed.”

Changed.

Zara’s swollen pussy flashed through my head whether I wanted it or not. Rayla. Valeria. Elara herself. Strength. Circles. Seals. Children were the church’s word for the fear. I had a different list.

“And you believe that something is still at large,” Elara said.

“We do not believe a Demon stops because a king falls. They need to feed on women.”

The paladin spoke for the first time. Younger voice. Less patient.

“If it can take the goddess from a woman, it can take the future from a house. From a realm.”

Elara’s eyes moved to him, then back to the priest. Soft face. Hard attention.

“You want permission to search my land.”

Land was an ambiguous word.

“We want cooperation,” the priest said. “George died in circumstances that already have a public story. We are not here to tear that story open in the streets. We are here because classified knowledge does not stay useful if the thing it names walks free.”

In other words, ‘We assure you, we have no interest in this kingdom’s politics.’

The nun had not spoken.

She sat with her hands folded, veil still, those dazzling soft eyes doing the listening.

“What does a Demon look like?” Elara asked.

Good. That was the question I needed her to ask so I didn’t have to.

The priest was quiet for a breath.

“Not always like a monster,” he said. “That is the danger. Some wear ordinary faces. Some stand in ordinary rooms. They look like us, mostly. The sign is what happens to the women near them. A severed thread. A blessing that will not take.”

Ordinary rooms. Ordinary faces.

I stood at Elara’s shoulder in an ordinary office and didn’t swallow.

“And if you find such a person?” Elara said.

“Then the church will do what it did when the first of them was named,” the priest said. “We will cut the corruption out before it reaches another woman and severs another connection to the goddess Kaya.”

Elara’s fingers tapped the desk once.

“You may speak to my steward about rooms. You will not frighten my staff with the word Demon. As far as this estate is concerned, you are merely visiting and strengthening your ties to my house.”

The priest bowed in his chair.

“As you say, Lady Elara.”

Elara still didn’t look at me. Not one indication she knew anything. I was just a power move as far as the uninvited visitors were concerned.

And my eyes went slowly to the nun rising slowly, and then to the quest window.

Fuck.

~~

Guess what the quest is.

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