Chasing easy solutions...

Two hours later...

Achievement unlocked! "May Your (Gl)ass be Filled"!
You inseminated the same woman from mouth to ass, but did you come inside... her heart? Wait, no, don't actually do that.
+3 LIB
+semen production permanently increased by 100%

Sexual encounter complete!
+13,941XP

DING! You've reached level 23!
+50 HP, +50MP
+10 stat points
+1 paragon point

Achievement unlocked! "Upgrade U"!
Earn more than 20,000XP just from sexual encounters! You're getting pretty good with that ring!
+3 LIB
+3 CHA

Achievement unlocked! "Let me (up)grade you"!
Earn more than 30,000XP just from sexual encounters! You are the hunter's passion!
+hunter's passion destroyed
+10 CHA
+10 LIB
+semen production permanently increased by 100%
+earn XP from sexual encounters based on the (average) level(s) of your partner(s)

Man, so even though I returned my junk to normal... that’s... ah, my ring is gone, just like it said! Cripes... John’s idle thoughts interrupted the real mission: finding every notification wherein he had transformed or tampered with Juniluny’s body to then reverse it. The only lasting effect was the pregnancy (all three were sons, as her status reported) that remained firmly planted in her cum-stained uterus. Having reached the most recent notifications, he felt confident that the hobbit was finally back to normal.

"Don't go thinking that meant something to me," Juniluny suddenly declared. John looked down from his interface. The two were still in his bedroom, and mostly cleansed thanks to the fountain and cleric spirits. Juniluny, however, remained prone on the bed, one leg folded up as she posed there. His seed was still softly leaking from her hairy slit, and her anus, still slightly gaping from the hour of John perpetually coming into it, leaked with a greater urgency. Every glop of the stuff was quickly vanished by the two cleric spirits nursing the mess her holes kept making. Her fat tits, still glistening from sweat or spunk or whatever other fluids ended up there, also still sported erect nipples, likely aching to be twisted anew. She looked up, with the runny stains of her make-up staining her cheeks and lips and a bit of her drool or his cum still around her lips, with all the sarcasm and vitriol she could manage to express at the man she quietly lusted for. The adorable Irish accent was gone; the prim and proper Cabalist had returned to her senses and her controlled speaking voice. "Whatever... I might've said... during that whole episode was... that is-"

"You begged me to keep going when I finally managed to pull myself out," John deadpanned without meeting her eye. “Don’t feel bad, though, it’s... not the first time that’s happened.”

As much as she tried to come up with denials, the Temple would not have it. A bitter scowl was the best she could manage. "Well, I s'ppose that just means you're good for something after all," was the best she could do.

John shook his head with a sigh. The pretense of punishment had passed at least an hour ago; Juniluny had found a pleasure in her humiliating romp, and what might’ve started as a hesitant became something closer to a loveless, pleasurable rut than John had wanted for her. Her pregnancy was now the only thing she probably still didn't want... though her demeanor suggested she might be forgetting or doubting it. I'll let her figure that part out... But that was hardly punishment enough.

He had not avenged anyone, not paid the Cabalist back for what she did to Kim, or even give her any dose of just dues for bothering their sleepy little city. He had only his sentence to have her serve the other minions in the Temple; would she enjoy that, too? She had to pay, somehow.

"The mad men you described... you can find them for me, right? The ones who might be able to help Kim?"

"Not big on listening, are you? They’re mad marauders of memetic memories, traversers of tales and tautologies taken by trans-dimensional travels... do you think I can just Google the lot of them?"

"That's not a 'no.'"

She grimaced and laid her head of matted hair back down onto the pillow as she stared at the ceiling. "I've some contacts, sure... and with a bit of work, the right fixers at the right hours, a bit of horse hair for a spell, at least one cat... perhaps I could even find one of them. But you'd be a fool to follow fools into a forest of fallacies."

John plugged away at his interface as she spoke, intent on spending all the points he had waiting. He particularly eyed his strength stat... and how it was a mere two points away from hitting the suddenly critical number of 50. Even now the quest log refused to tell him what would happen once he fulfilled what was probably the last objective of the mysterious quest. The Eye of the King revealed nothing behind the sea of question marks that was the quest's contents. Given how risky everything is right now, I should probably wait until later, anyways... With a frustrated sigh, John continued.

You've increased your Intellect by 10!

You entered a paragon point into ABYSSAL DEPTH. Your rate of MP gain has increased per point of Intellect and Wisdom! You've gained maximum 392MP.

You've increased Telemancy to level 20.

Telemancy is now level 20. Max level reached!
+100MP
Your mastery of Telemancy has increased existing skills and created a new skill!

Augment/Reduce Emotion is now level 10!
Edit Identity is now level 2!

Augment/Reduce Emotion became Catharsis!
Catharsis level 1, variable mp
Catharsis: target a mental or emotional construct within a person, either multiplying or dividing it based on the skill level and duration chosen: (A) [1 + (skill lvl x 0.5)] forever, (B) [10 + (skill lvl x 5)] for [skill lvl] hours, or (C) [20 + (skill lvl x 10)] for [skill lvl] rounds. Catharsis can be used in combat, but to 1/10th of its normal power. Casting Catharsis costs 25mp if used at level 1; otherwise, 200mp per level of Catharsis used.

You've learned Icon!

Icon level 1, variable mp
Icon: choose any mind-affecting spell and designate any level between 1 and your mastery of that spell. You enchant a small object, no larger than four feet in any of its dimensions, to cast that spell on whoever interacts with it in a manner you describe upon casting. The interaction chosen can't occur from farther than [Icon lvl] feet away. The spell is cast every time the person so interacts with the enchanted item, to a maximum of once per [casting time of chosen spell]. Icon costs a base 1,000MP plus [(chosen spell's mp cost) x (chosen spell lvl - Icon lvl, to a minimum of 1)]. The Icon effect only lasts for [Icon lvl x 10] days, or [Icon lvl x 10] castings, after which the object returns to normal. The designated object can also be part of some larger object and/or a designated area instead.

Achievement unlocked! "No one man should have all that power"!
Attained a mana pool of 2,000 or greater. Few humans could claim the same!
+100HP
+5,000XP

“... Are you even listening anymore, or has your little video game taken up all the mind left that you didn’t just spunk into me?”

"I'm... probably not going to hurt you," John idly confessed as he read his newest spell, "not the way you deserve, at least."

“Such benevolence,” she drolled.

"And if I can't even heal Kim's soul, then I don't think I'm powerful enough to heal the others you drained... let alone bring them back from the dead, so I can’t undo the even greater crimes you should pay for.”

"Crimes, he calls- wait now. 'Powerful enough?'" she scoffed. "Such idle talk of bringing back the dead-”

“The point is,” John stressed, “that you owe us... and the world... so you’re going to help by burning whatever bridges you’d never burn, grant every favor you’d never grant, and spend resources you’ve saved for however long or for whatever purpose... all to fix Kim, just as the start of your... rehabilitation.”

Juniluny exhaled deeply through her nose, but offered no other retort. She rubbed her belly, now only barely still full, and did her best to imagine where to even start... and how to do it without ruining her future too much. Even now, she knew she’d get out of this impossible mess, somehow. She had to believe that... but his orders were absolute. She wouldn’t get out unscathed. “Yeah... yeah, I s’ppose I’ve made some contacts, spoken to a Fateweaver or three... even know of one of their students working right here in Springfield, right under the Order’s nose... but we’d have to find a right good path, and then the crazy bitch in mind would need to... bah, it’s too unlikely, too risky, too costly to check!”

“Costly to me... or to you?” Juniluny almost growled at that, and John swiped his interface away to face the halfling properly. “Come to think of it, Moira and Galley seemed pretty set on me giving you up. So if I’m going to convince Moira... or her dad... to let me hold onto you, I’m going to need to know everything you do about spies, the Order, the Cabal... Hell, anything that would help me convince them.”

Juniluny’s ears lowered slowly as her Master spoke. “Where... should I even start?”

---

Thirty minutes later...

“... and that’s all I’ve ever heard of the Council.”

"Arkmadyos the Wise, who holds the rank of Phil- ... Philosophus," John recited, "your superior and the one who wanted to use a Gorbachev for his experiment."

Juniluny nodded idly as she idly cleansed her body in the reflecting pool, using a towel John had brought in some days ago as she kept wiping between her legs. John looked around as they spoke; the silence of the central square was just barely disrupted by the ambient life, even bereft of the handful of summons on loan to Tricia at the moment: Fairy and Kazex were, gratingly, a great source of noise, and the youngest Almiraj being absent meant his elders were no longer having their play at tormenting him.

Tita kept her watch over Woofroot's seed; the string bear, mysteriously docile, remained in the far corner as it always did; the malformed living bombs he had spared played with a poker set he had bought them, each using spare mana-berries John had granted them as playing chips, while sitting on the training pit floor; the Almiraj, bereft of their youngest, sparred in the empty dojo; Vok, normally the isolated sort, meditated at the corner opposite of the bear; Ju "tended" to the garden as well, albeit perhaps only to continue that quiet sulk that followed her out of the Flamescale Complex; and Thumalk, still sick by fairy dust, remained in the armoury as cleric spirits occasionally attended to his near-hourly spurt of self-pleasuring.

Two cleric spirits hovered over the pool, slowly draining the water of "filth." Juniluny gracelessly wiped her ass with the towel; it was clean, as it had been for a dozen minutes now, save for the slightest, near-imperceptible spurt of jizz she managed to let go. Cursing, she continued the cycle of wiping and towel-soaking as they spoke. Every tidbit she gave, having once been a terrible sentence by confession, now seemed to hold a bit of delight for her. Did she enjoy betraying her Cabal? Did she love the sound of her own voice? Did she find comfort in knowing that every secret revealed was insurance against her ? The truth, John decided, must've existed somewhere in the middle. "So this Arkmadyos has a secret lodge that serves as a kind of meeting place for the Cabal... and now that I know where it is, I could technically strike first... if I thought they'd come after me. But you're saying they'd only do that if they knew you were captured by me."

"Aye... and every minute I’m in the Order is sixty opportunities for the Cabal to learn of their need for your capture or , Master-"

"Which brings us to the spy, John Iowa, and the others throughout the Order, including a second one working for the Brightons... one whose identity you don't know, but I’ll deal with that on my own.” John shook his head. The spies had apparently been branded by well-hidden marks to ensure their loyalty, a kind not detectable until . Until John found one of them, he wouldn't know if even his Eye might be blind to them. "I think..."

Juniluny remained silent at that. Despite her half-enjoyment of educating John, she would’ve chosen against betraying the Cabal if she were allowed. More than her philosophical agreement, the first confessions from her lips condemned her before the Cabal masters. Of course, for me to even worry about them, first I need to get free of this child’s mark... except I can't move a muscle against him or his will. How can I trick this foolish, heavy-meated boy to want to leave me be? Her eyes drifted to his pants; despite all her protests, her mind constantly drifted back to those insane hours they had wasted in bed. Maybe if I left him... rightly tuckered out... ugh, but he doesn't even seem phased right now! I can barely move my bloody toes, and he's here thinking about-

"Priscilla the Black, your fellow Practicus, who once sabotaged your experiments on reducing souls to a fluid base."

"She’s likely interfered with more than that, I'd bet..."

"Califaux, another fellow Practicus, who you've never seen without what sounds like a plague doctor's uniform from that old game... what was it... ah, Murderer's Oath: Kinship."

The captured Cabalist raised an eyebrow before settling back down into the pool. Her fatigue slowly eased in the cooling pool, still crystal-clear thanks to the attending spirits. She thought to drink from it but felt no thirst for the water... which surprised her, when she thought about it. Cum aside, I've not had a drop to drink or a bite to eat since I've gotten here... and it can't just be this talling's ejaculate... no... why have I no hunger or thirst?

"No useful information on him, either, except that he uses guns that fire specially crafted bullets. Horfax, a machine with a glowing red eye, is apparently also a mage of equal rank, and you're equally in the dark about him?"

"We keep our hands close to our chests... at least until it's time to impress the old man or his masters,” she sighed as she let her fingers glide on the water’s surface.

"I’d just think you’d keep closer tabs, being in an evil magic cult and all..."

She audibly gasped at him, appalled. "The Cabal is no cult! And before you suspect anything less than the genius you've managed to ensnare, manling: none of those pompous fools even knew of my precious Maze. As I said: we’re a protective clutch."

John sighed at the halfling’s outburst before continuing, "Kuralae, a shadow... elf." How many kinds of elves are there, I wonder... "Excessively horny, eager to please her masters, and probably keeps slaves..."

"You’d get along swimmingly.”

As would you. The joke felt too dark in John's mind. He remembered who his otherwise pleasant company was. Moira, holding the corpse of some starved, mutilated man, came to mind... Hard to keep objective here... His eyes wandered her body again, and he cleared his throat as he continued. "Then let's move on to the Order: what do you know about them?"

"Hardly more than you. I know they hoard knowledge like a cancer on the mind, and their Wardens are each powerful witch-warriors, all three gifted with magical abilities that appear to be hereditary-"

"Three?" John suddenly asked.

Juniluny cocked her head at him again. "Three... Wardens- are you following any of this? Don't tell me you didn't even know..." John's annoyed grimace answered her question. "Hah! Shows how much they like you: won't even tell you what they are! Aye, they've three of them. That redhead's the youngest and weakest of them, too."

"W-What? How much stronger... wait, how do you even know this?"

Juniluny snorted. "I'm not in America for my health, boy... but I've managed to anger those girls enough to catch glimpses, of a mad Indian woman with a spear, of some armored German banshee with an army, and let this wise-halfling tell you: I'm far better off in the land of bison spirits and crazed, new-age cults than anywhere on the same hemisphere as those two."

John shook his head in disbelief, though he knew her words were true. "Crazy... so Moira's not even... huh. Can more than three be made?"

"Asmodeus be praised, no... I mean, I hope not." Juniluny shrugged. "The Trinity is what we've always been warned about: either young women of unbelievable power; then their husbands, usually the more violent, angry sort; then their daughters, and so the cycle of our old enemy rolls on. The Cabal would rather let them play their games than interfere."

John nodded, unsure of how to even use the information. Why had Moira never mentioned it? Perhaps he'd come to learn it in his lessons next weekend at the Brighton Estate? If I'm even allowed in, after keeping this one around... Galley and her reactions came back to occupy the Gamer's mind... It's only been a few minutes for them... I bet that, even now, they're having a screaming match over what to do with me... or over what Juniluny did to Kim. What could John even tell Kim to give her hope? That he had enslaved Juniluny, and now the Cabalist would help restore her? If that even works... Whatever became the best narrative, John had to deliver it soon.

"Is that it, then?" Juniluny asked as she rose. "I know a bit of their history, too, albeit from the outside-"

"That's alright..." But I bet she really does have a decent handle on the Abyss; I only asked about the Cabal and the Order. What else could I learn by keeping her around? Hell, even if she didn't know much, she's my only lead on healing Kim. "... We've been here long enough." John thought to the task ahead: convincing Moira and the Order to let him keep a dangerous mage as his . Even after hours of contemplating it (when he wasn't lost in the ecstasy of the halfling), he still felt ill-prepared to face them.