Stop treatment

Alice’s hand hovered over the shaman’s bowl for one long breath, then she set it down. “Stop,” she said, voice small but steady. “We’re done with this. Don’t give him any more.”

The shaman’s face didn’t change much but there was a soft hardness to her eyes as she met Alice’s. “If you stop, the poison runs its course,” she warned. “He dies faster without the medicine. This was the only thing keeping him from slipping into the ground.”

Alice swallowed. (I know.) She pressed a palm to Leo’s blanket, feeling the shallow rise and fall of his breath as if it were the last thing she’d ever touch. “I can’t watch him become…something he’d hate. Not like this.”

Jolie and Yamaba exchanged a brief look, loaded. Jolie stepped forward and laid a hand on Alice’s shoulder, eyes bright with an odd protectiveness. “I’m with you, I don't think he'd want that.” she said aloud, voice lighter than the weight of the choice.

Yamaba’s expression stayed close to stone, but she inclined her head. and said quietly. “I owe him that if nothing else.” (Her fingers never left the haft of her staff.)

Alice noticed the way Jolie’s eyes tracked the camp women, a small, guilty light playing there, and how Yamaba’s jaw clenched when she watched Leo sleep.

The shaman set the bowl aside, nodding once. “You chose,” she said. Her tone was not reproach. “I will stop the treatment. But you must understand what you do.”

A cold-system chime whispered into Alice’s head the moment the infusion ended

[System Notice]

Medical Intervention Halted.

Current: [Leo Poisoned Wounds]

Progression: Active.

Projected Outcome without cure: High fatality risk.

(Dice: dramatic pause dramatic consequences. Bold move, rookie. You just swapped a slow reshaping for a quicker, messier option. Bravo. Also, nice job making this choice dramatic and emotionally messy. Entertaining for all my sensors.)

Alice’s chest tightened. She felt both terrible and strangely empowered. (I stopped it. I couldn’t let them steal him from himself.) Then the guilt rolled back in, hot and immediate. (But what if I’ve damned him?)

Jolie squeezed Alice’s hand, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll keep watch,” she said. “We’ll nurse him. Yamaba answered nothing; her quiet was a promise to act, not a comfort.

There were immediate practical consequences. Alice flicked open her holoPanel, fingers trembling.

[System Advisory]

Leo Condition Update (Post-Treatment Halt)

Poison activity: ↑

Vitality degradation: accelerated

Feminization progression: paused (no longer masked), underlying effects remain

Action required: Identify toxin or accumulate Targeted Poison Cleans or Generic Antivenom Burst (success rates vary)

(Dice: “You just turned the clock into a ticking metronome. Grind, baby. Grind. Or buy your way out like the nobles do. Your call.”)

Alice stared at the numbers at the AP balance blinking mockingly at the top of her panel. (Fifty is not enough.) The shaman poured quiet tea into a chipped cup and slid it to Alice like an anchor.

“We can try to find herbs,” the shaman offered. “There are old ways, dangerous, slow. There are tests, but they require samples. Traces of the toxin. Identify it, and you reduce the cost of cure. Guess wrong, you burn points.”

Alice’s mouth set. She pictured the Cash Shop numbers, the way Dice had laughed in her head. (Points are currency. Points are power. I’ll get them.) She thought of the XP she could grind of nights on her knees at the Exiles’ bidding to level faster. Guilt spat at her every plan, but she swallowed it down.

“Plan,” Alice said, each syllable deliberate. “We find the toxin signature. We grind AP. We hunt whatever gives quick returns. We talk to traveling healers. And…we keep him alive while we do it.”

Jolie’s eyes shone, fierce and absurdly maternal at once. “We’ll get you points,” she said. “We’ll get him fixed. You don’t have to do it alone.”

Yamaba’s hand found Alice’s briefly light as a feather, but firm. (She’d never say it in so many words, but she loved Leo too. That much was true.) “We move at first light,” she said finally. “There are hunters with knowledge. There are camps that trade in antidotes. But we must be careful. The Warrens are not kind.”

Outside the tent, the Exile camp burned steady and loud. No one spoke of hope and no one pretended the road was easy. Alice felt the weight of the decision settle into her bones, a slow, heavy thing that would not be undone by apology.

(Dice: “So dramatic. So moral. So… profitable, potentially, if you play it right.”)

Alice clenched her jaw. She would grind. She would find the toxin. She would buy the cure if she had to if that meant Leo would come back whole. And if not… (No. Don’t go there.) She pushed the darker thought away for now and looked instead at Leo’s sleeping face, at Jolie’s closed, fierce look, at Yamaba’s silent promise. They’d chosen the hard thing together. Now they had to pay for it.

Even as Leo lay there, his body ravaged by poison and his life hanging by a thread, Jolie continued to tend to him.

Jolie’s fingers trembled as she tried again to pour mana into Leo’s chest. The healing spell flickered, dimmed, and died. Sweat clung to her skin. Her breath came ragged, her reserves bone dry. Every attempt hurt more than the last.

“Come on…” she whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. “Please… breathe.”

Leo stirred faintly, still caught between consciousness and the brink. His skin was pale, his pulse a ghost beneath her touch. The mana channels between them were nearly severed; she could feel his spirit dimming through the link.

The tent flap stirred. A shadow loomed. The shaman entered massive, deliberate, power radiating off her like heat from a forge. The air thickened with raw energy; Jolie could almost taste it. Her body responded before her mind did, mana-sick veins reaching toward that living current as though starving.

“You want him to live,” the shaman said simply. “Then you must take what you need.”

Jolie’s lips parted. “I… I can’t. That’s not”

“Then he dies.”

The words cut through her hesitation like a blade. She stared down at Leo, his chest barely rising and then back up at the shaman’s waiting form. The power coiling around her was intoxicating, dangerous… divine. Her body knew what her mind refused to admit.

Jolie moved without thinking, her body acting on pure instinct. She straddled the shaman's lap, her hands tangling in the other woman's hair as she ground their hips together. The shaman responded in kind, her strong hands gripping Jolie's hips, guiding the rocking, circling motion.

Jolie tipped her head back, baring her throat in wordless offering as the shaman's mouth met hers, kissing her deeply.

The shaman's fingers dipped lower, slipping under the waistband of Jolie's pants, delving into her dripping cunt.

The shaman reached down, freeing her thick, throbbing orc cock. It was dripping with precum . Jolie keened, rocking her hips faster as the orc woman's fingers circled her clit, bringing the sensitive flesh to aching attention.

"Please," Jolie gasped, rutting desperately against the shaman's hard length. "I need...I need you inside me..."

The shaman grinned. "not yet", two fingers thrusting deep into Jolie's clenching cunt. Jolie cried out, the feeling of being filled. Her thighs trembled, her hips bucking wildly as mana and ecstasy coursed through her.

"only when you truly want it"

The shaman thrust her fingers in and out of Jolie's fluttering cunt, fucking her through the intense climax. As she started to come down, Jolie felt something building in her core, a well of power unlike anything she had felt before. The shaman must have felt it too, because she started to thrust deeper, harder, her untouched cock twitching and dripping pre cum as the wet squelch of her fingers in Jolie's pussy mixed with the roaring in her ears.

As the second climax crashed through her, the well of power seemed to explode. Light burst from their fucking, blinding white and gold. As Jolie felt the power flow through her and into Leo, his life **** strengthening with every breath.

When it was done, the air shimmered with residual heat. Mana flared through Jolie’s veins, wild and electric, brighter than it had ever been. The sigil on Leo’s chest reignited, pulsing steady now, his breathing evening out.

She’d done it. She’d saved him.

And yet she couldn’t stop shaking. Her hands pressed to her chest as if to contain the storm inside. It wasn’t just power. It was need. A gnawing, molten hunger that demanded more.

The shaman’s voice was low, amused. “It takes the first time to awaken it. Now you understand.”

Jolie flinched, looking away. “Understand what?”

“How hunger and healing share the same pulse.”

Jolie swallowed hard. She didn’t reply.

Later that night, as Leo slept beside the dwindling fire, she tried to meditate to center herself, to quiet the racing beat of her heart. It didn’t help. The air felt wrong without that intoxicating energy. The echo of the shaman’s presence lingered under her skin, humming.

She could feel herself sliding toward it again.

"You need mana, little one," the shaman rumbled, It wasn't a question.

Jolie nodded jerkily, hating how **** she felt, how transparent her need was. "Please," she whispered. "I'll do anything."

The shaman chuckled darkly. "Oh, I know you will," She pulled Jolie into her lap, the orc's powerful musk hitting Jolie's senses like a freight train. It made Jolie's head swim, arousal pooling in her core.

The shaman wasted no time, shoving Jolie's robes off to reveal her naked curves. Rough hands pawed at her heavy breasts, tugging and twisting her nipples until Jolie was mewling with need. She rutted her hips shamelessly, feeling the shaman's cock hardening against her.

"Please," Jolie keened again, mad with lust. "Fuck me, use me, I need it!"

The shaman was all too happy to oblige. She flipped Jolie onto her hands and knees, sinking her thick cock into Jolie's dripping cunt in one hard thrust. Jolie screamed in bliss, clenching around the invading meat. The shaman rutted in and out forcefully, the wet slap of their coupling mixing with Jolie's wanton cries.

As the shaman fucked her, Jolie could feel mana flooding back into her, replenished by the intimate contact. Orc pheromones overwhelmed her system, heightening her ecstasy to a fever pitch. Her body grew flushed and dewy with sweat, each exhale a needy sob.

"More," Jolie begged deliriously, meeting the shaman's brutal thrusts. "Give me your seed, I need it!"

The shaman gave a rough growl and complied, thrusting deep and releasing inside Jolie in hot spurts. Jolie whited out, her own climax crashing over her as she was filled with the potent orc cum. She felt the mana rush amplify tenfold, her body vibrating with power.

They collapsed together in a sticky heap, chests heaving. Jolie's skin hummed, the shaman's addictive essence sinking into her pores, imprinting on her very cells. She knew she would crave this again. That she would need it.

But in that moment, the wrongness of it paled in comparison to the blissful high thrumming through her. Jolie would worry about the repercussions later. For now, she simply basked in the afterglow, in the renewed strength suffusing her.

When dawn came, Jolie’s mana shone stronger than ever, her skin faintly flushed with power. But her eyes… they were wrong. Bright, fevered, restless.

Leo breathed peacefully, alive because of her because of it.

And Jolie, staring at her trembling hands, whispered to herself, “I can stop. I can stop whenever I want.”

As Leo felt like his life was slipping away, his last sight was of Jolie, her body covered in the shaman's cum, a blissful smile on her face as she cuddled up to the shaman, her head resting on the orc's chest. She was sated and satisfied, her craving for orc cock temporarily satiated.

In his fractured mind, it was all the same: Jolie laughing, Jolie crying out, Jolie worshipping someone else while he withered away. He told himself it had to be the poison. A fever dream. A trick.

And then, one morning, he woke.

The fever was gone. The weakness… not gone, but different. His body no longer throbbed with pain, though his strength was missing, replaced by something soft, strange, alien. Alice’s shadow fell over him and with her, the Exile twins, Kiki and Koko, their hands resting on her shoulders as if they belonged there.

“You’ll live,” Alice said, her voice shaky but sure.

Leo sat up slowly, blinking. His body felt light, too light. The muscle that once weighed him down was simply… gone. His hand shook as he touched his face and froze. His jaw was slimmer. His cheekbones higher. His reflection in a polished bronze dish showed not the storm god smirk he always carried, but a bratty, androgynous girly boy.

His throat worked, but when he tried to speak, the sound that came out was thin, higher pitched than he remembered. A bratty tomboy lilt, not the commanding tone of a warrior. His eyes went wide. “What the ”

It came out wrong. Too soft. Too pretty.

Behind him, Kiki and Koko exchanged a little laugh, leaning into Alice as though they had expected this outcome all along.

The truth followed in fragments, pieced together from the murmurs of the Exiles and Alice’s hesitant words: it had been the twins who saved him. They hunted down the tribe that had poisoned him, dragging back a captive whose venom was used to brew an antidote. Without them, he would have been lost.

Leo’s fists clenched weakly, but his arms trembled with the effort. His body felt smaller, lighter feminized. The shaman’s medicine had purged the poison, but it had reshaped him in the process.

He swallowed, ears burning at the sound of his own voice. (This… this isn’t me. This can’t be me. Right?)

And yet, Alice and her wives stood above him, alive. And he was, too.

Leo adjusted the straps of his old armor, trying to stand tall, to look like the commander he had always been. But the leather sagged loose around his waist, and the steel plates rattled, too large now for his smaller frame. He **** the smirk back onto his face anyway, tugging his cloak into place as though nothing had changed. He had to abandon the armor when he found it so poorly fitting he couldn't properly move in it looking like a child wearing their father's clothes.

“Alright,” he said briskly, the bratty edge to his new voice cutting through the morning haze. “We’re done wasting time. We move out. I’ll lead, like always.”

But the others didn’t look to him. Jolie was laughing softly with Yamaba, distracted, their attention more on the orc encampment than on his words. And Alice Alice stood with the Exile twins draped on either side of her, their tusked smiles soft and girlish as they clung to her arms like lovestruck maidens.

It was Kiki who spoke first, her amber eyes glittering. “We want to see the outside. With her.” She pressed her forehead against Alice’s temple, possessive.

Koko chimed in, giggling, “Where our wife goes, we go. The world beyond sounds fun.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. A flicker of pain twisted in his chest, but he buried it under bravado. (So what. She was new. Barely even part of the party. If she’s gone soft for a pair of exiled orcs, that’s her problem. I still have Jolie. I still have Yamaba. And all that stuff I saw… the shaman, Jolie… that was just fever-dream poison nonsense. My own sick mind messing with me. Has to be.)

Behind him, the twins were already divvying up the remnants of his ruined armor, fastening mismatched plates onto their own bodies with gleeful chatter. The half-plate sat strangely on them, reforged into something brutal but stylish, spikes jutting from scavenged straps. They made it look like trophies rather than cast-offs.

Leo squared his shoulders, ignoring the hollow ache inside. “Fine. You want to tag along, do what you want. Just stay out of the way.”

But even as he said it, he knew the balance had shifted. The eyes that once followed him unquestioningly were drifting elsewhere toward Alice, and the Exiles she now called wives.

[System Alert]

Condition Update: Poison purged. Body stabilized.

(Don’t thank yourself, champ. You were out cold. If not for some lovestruck orc twins and Alice you’d be fertilizer right now.)

[System Alert]

Attribute Shift Detected.

Muscle Mass: Reduced

Height: Reduced

Facial Structure: Softened

Voice: Recalibrated → Category: “Bratty Tomboy”

(Oh yes. Very commanding. Nothing says “fearsome leader” like sounding like you just lost an argument with your little sister.)

[System Alert]

Hormonal Balance: Altered.

Testosterone: Down.

Estrogen: Significantly Up.

Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the Femboy Starter Pack.

(Side effects may include pouting, “accidentally” looking cute, and armor no longer fitting your twink ass.)

[System Alert]

Equipment Fit Check: FAILED.

Your armor no longer recognizes you as its rightful owner.

(Translation: You shrank. They didn’t. The orc twins are literally strutting around in your scraps. Try not to think too hard about that.)

[System Alert]

Party Loyalty Index: … recalculating …

Jolie → Distracted.

Yamaba → Distracted.

Alice → Married. To. Orcs.

(But hey, you’re still technically “party leader”… if you squint hard enough and ignore the fact that nobody’s listening.)

[System Alert]

Title Updated:

Old Title → “Leader of the Pack.”

New Title → “Twink in Denial.”

(Don’t worry. It’s a working title. But oh, is it working.)

The journey back toward the portal was slower than Alice expected. The Warrens seemed different now, less like a dungeon and more like a scar carved into the world. The shadows of twisted trees leaned close, the distant tunnels breathed faint drafts of smoke, and every step carried the weight of a month’s survival.

Alice walked with her wives pressed close at either side, the twins ever affectionate, kissing her cheek or bumping shoulders as though reminding her they were real. Their warmth was grounding, even if every breath of their musk made her head swim.

(…A month ago I was level 1. Nobody. Just another rookie thrown into Dice’s game. And now )

She blinked as the familiar [System Menu] shimmered into view, pulling up her status sheet.

[System Update Experience Gains]

You have gained experience steadily over your stay in Fangspire Warrens.

Activities contributing: monster kills (assisted), contract fulfillment, sacred union rituals, and direct contribution to party survival.

Level Reached: 12

Alice stared at the glowing words, heart fluttering. (Level 12… Dice wasn’t kidding about “power leveling.” Even without fighting most of the battles myself, I… I’ve grown stronger. Different.)

(Dice: Well, well, well. Look at you, my little healer. From “please don’t sneeze on me, I’ll die” to Level 12 in a month. That’s what we call results. Sure, half your EXP came from sucking off your new wives and finishing half-dead monsters, but hey progress is progress. You’re sturdier now, stronger, and a lot more fun to watch squirm. Don’t get too cocky, though. The Warrens chew up veterans for breakfast. You’re just getting started.)

Alice closed the menu with trembling hands, her chest tight. The forest around her still hummed with danger, the air thick with the promise of more trials ahead.

But as Kiki and Koko leaned in, planting soft kisses on her forehead and cheeks, Alice let herself smile despite the tension. (Level 12… I’m still scared, still fumbling, still addicted out of my mind… but maybe Dice really does want me to keep going. Maybe I can survive this.)

And so she walked on, the glow of the portal still distant, but closer with every step.

The trek back toward the portal was slower, heavier. The scars of the Warrens clung to them like smoke, and though the path wound steadily upward through stone and twisted trees, Alice felt the weight of every step pressing down on her.

It wasn’t Leo who set their pace anymore.

Kiki and Koko walked at the front, hands linked with Alice’s on either side, their tusked smiles flashing every time she glanced their way. When they spoke teasing, playful, yet strangely steady even Yamaba tilted her head to listen. Jolie’s gaze followed them with open adoration, as if their voices alone kept her steady on her feet.

The rest of the party adjusted without question, their movements unconsciously falling into rhythm behind the twins’ easy swagger.

Alice noticed it most in the little things: how Yamaba didn’t argue when Koko pointed out a safer trail; how Jolie giggled at Kiki’s joke, her tension easing; how the orc exiles that trailed with them deferred instinctively when the twins barked an order.

Everyone seemed to look to them. Everyone but Leo.

He lingered behind, jaw tight,. Every time the twins laughed, his eyes narrowed, though he tried to disguise it with a smirk. Sparks flickered weakly through his blond hair, like lightning trying to remember how to strike.

Alice swallowed, feeling the tension twist in her chest. (It’s not supposed to be like this. He’s supposed to lead. But now… gods, everyone’s following them. Even me.)

The twins squeezed her hands, tugging her forward with twin mischievous grins. “Wife,” they chorused, voices warm and sure, as though reminding her where she belonged.

And Alice let herself be pulled along, the sound of Leo’s silence hanging heavy behind her.

The trek back toward the portal was slower, heavier. The scars of the Warrens clung to them like smoke, and though the path wound steadily upward through stone and twisted trees, Alice felt the weight of every step pressing down on her.

It wasn’t Leo who set their pace anymore.

Kiki and Koko walked at the front, hands linked with Alice’s on either side, their tusked smiles flashing every time she glanced their way. When they spoke teasing, playful, yet strangely steady even Yamaba tilted her head to listen. Jolie’s gaze followed them with open adoration, as if their voices alone kept her steady on her feet.

The rest of the party adjusted without question, their movements unconsciously falling into rhythm behind the twins’ easy swagger.

Alice noticed it most in the little things: how Yamaba didn’t argue when Koko pointed out a safer trail; how Jolie giggled at Kiki’s joke, her tension easing; how the orc exiles that trailed with them deferred instinctively when the twins barked an order.

Everyone seemed to look to them. Everyone but Leo.

He lingered behind, jaw tight, his smaller frame almost swallowed by the battered scraps of armor that no longer fit him. Every time the twins laughed, his eyes narrowed, though he tried to disguise it with a smirk.

Alice swallowed, feeling the tension twist in her chest. (It’s not supposed to be like this. He’s supposed to lead. But now… gods, everyone’s following them. Even me.)

The twins squeezed her hands, tugging her forward with twin mischievous grins. “Wife,” they chorused, voices warm and sure, as though reminding her where she belonged.

And Alice let herself be pulled along, the sound of Leo’s silence hanging heavy behind her.

[System Alert]

Status Effect Intensified: Orc Musk Addiction → Severe

Separation from bonded mates causes full-body tremors, feverish cravings, and intrusive thoughts of “orc pits and piggy cuddles.”

(Dice: You lasted, what, five minutes outside the tent before your brain started screaming “sniff me, daddy”? Pathetic. Hilarious. Delicious.)

[System Alert]

Status Effect: Orc Sweat Addiction (Moderate → Severe)

Exposure triggers euphoric high, loss of inhibition. Lack of exposure induces muscle weakness, irritability, and compulsive seeking behavior.

(Dice: Congratulations, you’re junkies for BO. Normal sweat? Meh. Orc sweat? Instant rave in your bloodstream. You girls are doomed.)

[System Alert]

Status Effect: Orc Cum Addiction (Severe)

Mental cravings override other priorities. Denial may result in hallucinations, compulsive oral fixation, and depression-like crash.

(Dice: Oh no. I’m sure you’ll manage adventuring just fine while every time you see a waterskin, you’re thinking “that’s not orc jizz, booo.”)

[System Alert]

Status Effect: Orc Saliva Addiction (Mild)

Symptoms: mouth tingling, difficulty kissing non-orcs without immediate disgust.

(Dice: Kissing Leo now feels like licking cardboard, huh? Poor twinkboy never stood a chance.)

[System Alert]

Addiction Bond: Tripled

Alice → Kiki & Koko (Wives, Permanent Union)

Jolie → Shaman of the Exiles (Ongoing Consort)

Yamaba → Unspecified Exile Partners (Pattern forming)

Withdrawal penalties for ALL three: -20% combat efficiency, +100% horniness, and “oops I tripped into an orc’s lap” rolls doubled in frequency.

(Dice: Face it you’re basically on a leash. And the leash smells like musk, cum, and happy sweat.)

[Status Sheet: Alice KikiKoko]

(Well look at you. From daddy’s sugar sponsored healer to orc-married mana dispenser. Dice approves. You traded dignity for levels and, honestly? It’s working.)

Race: Human (with deluxe plumbing and bonus “orc-bonded” firmware)

Class: Mana-Tether Healer (aka Heal Slut no, still no refunds)

Level: 12 (from 1 see what happens when you grind monsters and orc cock?)

Title: Exile’s Bride (twice over… you even hyphenated your last name. Adorable.)

Affiliations:

Guild of Inspira (your daddy’s still footing some of this bill)

Lionheart (Leo’s circus… he’s looking a little twinkish these days)

Exile Clan (married in; congratulations, you get tusked in-laws now)

Body

Strength: 34 (from 26 jar opening is easy; keg lifting, still no)

Constitution: 63 (from 41 your wives built you some real stamina, didn’t they?)

Agility: 52 (from 44 slippery little thing, perfect for dodging Leo’s sulks)

Appearance: 91 (from 58 healer glow-up plus orc bride status, people stare)

Mind

Charisma: 65 (from 40 turns out being married to hot twins gives you confidence)

Intelligence: 44 (from 39 you’re not dumb, but books still aren’t sexy)

Willpower: 71 (from 52 more will to live, less will to resist your wives)

Perception: 61 (from 47 you spot danger; you just marry it anyway)

Magic

Magical Strength: 49 (from 23 sparkler fully upgraded to “actual firework”)

Magical Control: 41 (from 19 you’re not blowing yourself up anymore, just other people’s expectations)

Class Features (Mana-Tether Healer)

Tethered Heal (Active): Still hands-on healing, still lewd by design.

Shared Flow (Passive): Double heals when Jolie’s in range. You two are basically a magical power couple.

Lewd Mana Mechanics (Permanent): Mana pool still tied to “intimate contact.” You leaned into it hard.

Support Scaling (Passive): Appearance + Sensitivity = broken healing buffs. Yes, sex appeal literally = stronger heals.

Addictions (New Section)

(Oh, yes. Dice is rubbing their hands at this one.)

Orc Musk Addiction (Severe): Can’t go more than a day without a sniff. Withdrawal = shakes, tears, and begging.

Orc Sweat Addiction (Moderate): Touching, licking, inhaling you crave it all.

Orc Cum Addiction (Critical): If it’s not in you, on you, or around you daily, you crash. Hard.

Equipment (Updated)

Runebound Staff (C Rank): Still whispers in Old Tongue. Staff’s a little jealous of your twin wives.

Blessed Chain Veil (C Rank): Midriff still out, skirt still short. Nothing’s changed.

Notes

Skill Slots: 3 unlocked (still empty except the default one, because you’re too busy grinding… in both senses).

Attribute Points: 135 unspent (you hoarder).

Background Trait: Touched by Mana (Minor). Still the same, just extra messy now.

“Level 12, three addictions, and two orc wives. Daddy would be proud. Leo? Not so much. But hey you’re thriving. Enjoy the twinned honeymoon, heal slut.”

The gate shimmered as they stepped through, the air splitting with a low hum before spitting them back into Ikos city. The transition was abrupt one heartbeat they were under Fangspire’s dim cavern sky, the next they were blinking against the sickly smog of the city slums.

A pair of armored clerks sat at the toll booth, their runed tablets already chiming with alerts as the party emerged. The guards looked up, eyes immediately falling on the towering green skinned twins at Alice’s side. For a moment, Alice tensed, expecting steel to be drawn.

Instead, the senior clerk just sighed, quill scratching lazily against parchment.

“Two new crossers,” he muttered, waving a hand. “Get them papers. Standard immigration process.”

The younger clerk barely glanced up. “Exiles?”

“Exiles.”

“Any hostility?”

The guard eyed Kiki and Koko, still glued to Alice’s side and kissing her forehead like lovestruck maidens. “None.”

And that was that. Stamps flared on the guild’s tablet. The system chimed.

[System Alert]

Notice: Cross-World Entry.

Non-hostile Orc Exiles detected. Status: Immigrant, Pending Registration.

Direct to Guild Hall for citizenship processing.

Alice exhaled slowly, relief washing through her only for Leo to erupt.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” His voice cracked sharp as lightning. He stepped forward, jabbing a finger at the twins. “They’re orcs! They’re supposed to be monsters! Kill them! Lock them up! Do something!”

The guards just blinked at him, unimpressed. One arched a brow. “Not our job, sir. They aren’t hostile. Guild protocol states ”

“I don’t care about protocol!” Leo’s face flushed, his smaller frame trembling with anger. “They’re dangerous! They don’t belong here! Do you even know what they’re capable of?!”

The clerk didn’t even look up from his ledger this time. “Capable of filling out forms and paying fees like everyone else. Now stand aside, you’re holding up the line.”

Leo sputtered, his voice rising into something almost petulant. “This city’s doomed if you let things like them walk around free!”

Behind him, Alice tightened her grip on Kiki and Koko’s hands. The twins just smirked, one planting a kiss on her temple, the other on her cheek, as if to underline the absurdity of his rant. The other adventurers passing through the gate shot Leo annoyed looks, clearly uninterested in joining his tantrum.

For all his shouting, his words carried no weight here. The guild didn’t see two threats they saw two new immigrants with a citizen wife to vouch for them.

And the world moved on.

The guild hall in Ikos loomed like a fortress of bureaucracy. Inside, it smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and polished steel. Rows of clerks sat behind rune-etched counters, their quills scratching furiously as adventurers, mercenaries, and oddities shuffled in and out with the clatter of boots and armor.

Alice felt out of place walking through those doors not because of herself, but because of the twin orc girls clinging to her arms like schoolgirls with their first crush. Kiki leaned against her shoulder, humming tunelessly, while Koko kept pressing little kisses against her temple as if daring anyone to object.

The clerks did look up. Some frowned, others muttered. But none intervened. Orcs had crossed before, and the guild’s role wasn’t to judge only to register.

Yamaba trailed behind, her posture calm, molten eyes flicking toward the twins with a glimmer of amusement. For once, she wasn’t tense. Instead, she leaned close to Alice and whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “Quite the wives you’ve found yourself. Two at once, no less. Overachiever.”

Alice flushed, tugging her hood lower. “I didn’t exactly plan it.”

Yamaba’s lips curved into something almost like a smile. “Oh, I know. Still it suits you.” She glanced at the twins, who were busy tugging on Alice’s hands as if vying for her attention. “They’re not bad sorts. Affectionate, even. I’ve seen worse matches made under duress.”

Alice blinked, surprised by the elf’s measured tone. “You don’t seem… unsettled by them. Not like the others.”

For a moment, Yamaba’s expression flickered something private, something heavy but then it smoothed again. “Let’s just say I’ve had… practice. I’ve lived beside orcs before. Long enough to know their smell doesn’t undo me like it does others.” Her words were casual, but there was a depth Alice didn’t dare push.

At the counter, the clerk pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. “Names?” he asked flatly, quill poised.

“Kiki,” said the first twin, puffing her chest out proudly.

“Koko,” echoed the second, pressing her cheek against Alice’s shoulder.

“And Alice,” Alice added, her voice small but steady. “Their wife.”

The quill scratched across parchment. The clerk didn’t even look up. “Fine. Citizenship papers will be processed. Bond recognized. They’ll be registered as Orc immigrants under protection of Guild Law. Next.”

Just like that. Done. Official.