Unworthy

"It's about time for me to go. The others will be waking up soon."

"You know, I wasn't exactly sure what to expect with a mortal, but I'll admit I didn't think someone who went to the trouble of summoning an incubus would spend so much time together without even asking for a little fun."

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't tempting," John admitted, smirking as he nuzzled his cheek against Aria's. "But then, it's sort of your fault for letting me rant about games for so long. You made the mistake of letting me min-max for Nerd instead of Lust. I hope you're not disappointed."

"Disappointed? No, as long as you're happy, I'm happy. If anything, I'm impressed... from what I heard about mortals, going this long with an erection is a feat all on its own. Let alone not acting on it."

Aria wiggled her hips for emphasis, pressing her slender figure against him in a way that made John's breath hitch in his throat. The sound earned another giggle from Aria, especially when he grabbed hold of her hips and added to the pressure himself.

"I'm a patient man. And if you think I’ve gone this long in a bed with someone as pretty as you without an erection, you’re insane. I’m just decent at hiding it by now. Besides, the urgency of getting laid at every opportunity kind of disappears when there is always opportunity."

"Oh, geez, you'd better not already be bored of sex before I even get any," Aria growled, swiveling her head to nip at his neck playfully.

"Is that what you're worried about?" John growled a little as he tightened his grip on the petite woman, pulling her cushy rear against his groin. It only took a moment, a slightly lustful thought, and he was already mostly erect—and more than eager to make sure she felt every inch through their clothes. John even lifted the slender demoness up off the bed entirely, making a point of supporting her weight and sliding her whole body against his own, almost as if she were a toy. Aria's delighted laughter mixed with a throaty moan. Her dress was beginning to ride up from the friction of each pump, but she didn't even feign an attempt at trying to keep herself decent.

"What if I was?" Aria taunted, barely stifling her laughter as she attempted to make it sound intimidating. "What if I think you're all tapped out, and I haven't even done anything yet?"

"Then you're going to eat those words once this war is over. I'll need some way to celebrate, after all." John gave her hips one more squeeze, a final thrust, and then settled her back down, to a multitude of objections from the temptress. "We'll see what lasts longer: an incubus made for pleasure or bullshit magical stamina."

"Oh, by Satan, I hope it's the magical stamina," Aria purred, one of her fangs dragging along her lower lip as she hummed with desire.

"Little weird that you reference a Satan. I mean, yeah, demon, but..."

"Don't you ruin playtime with Biblical concerns." Aria pouted as John began to stretch and reluctantly clamber his way off the bed, grasping at him with one hand in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down.

"See, you even reference the Bible, on top of everything else. If demons were a thing in this world, I'd swear you were actually one of them, and just pretending to be something I Purified."

"Don't remind me. Still trying to figure out what this all means for me. Like, if you die in this war, where do I go?" Aria blinked, her alluring mood vanishing in a moment. She didn't sound too troubled by the thought, not like he had been when she'd nearly disappeared in front of him, but it certainly perplexed her at a minimum.

"Now who's ruining playtime with Biblical concerns?"

"Oh, hush. Actually, don't. You like teasing all your girls, huh?"

"No, you're just really cute when you pout." John ducked the pillow that was tossed at his head, sticking out one finger and deftly tossing it into his inventory on contact, hoping he'd remember where it had gone the next time he wanted to have a lie down.

"Anything you want me to do while you're gone?" Aria lazed on the bed, but her eyes were alert and focused as she watched John fiddle with the lock.

"Hm? Oh, nothing specific. I've got Yvara working on some alchemy stuff for me while we're training, so try to avoid the shed. Some of those potions are so finicky that I swear someone walking around outside must change the quality. Other than that, go wild. The kittens would love a playmate, my computer is available, Yvara has a full bath and hot water set up, food's in the kitchen... go crazy, do whatever makes you happy."

With that, John finished cracking the door open and departed with a final farewell smile. Aria kept her own up until he was gone, and a few seconds after, while his footsteps joined in with a half-dozen more distant others. Then her smile finally receded and left only a ghost in its wake, as the horned demoness sighed and idly glanced around the mostly barren room.

"Whatever makes me happy, huh? ...And, what exactly is that, anyway…?"

John took a deep breath as he shut the door behind him, stretching his body and shaking loose his thoughts. He spent a moment clearing his head and getting things in order, as well as taming the erection that was still screaming at him to go back inside.

"No more laying about. Today is gonna be nothing but maximum effort. Get your head in the game, John."

With one final roll of his shoulders and a reaffirming nod, John headed for the stairs. Since most everyone was up and moving for the day, it didn't take long to assemble everyone in the living room. The hardest part was corralling the kittens out so they could have an uninterrupted meeting without resorting to Barriers inside the house, something John always felt rather odd about doing.

"Alright. We're going to go pretty hard today. I'll be keeping the levels down a bit at the start, and we can really push our endurance. Then I'm going to go all-out on the levels for the last couple, crank it up until we find our limits when we're already tired. That sound alright to everyone?"

John received a flurry of nods. Apart from the swishing of Maera and Mithra's tails against the couch, and the agitated thump of Lerianna's left foot, there was almost complete silence in the room. Sophia was as tightly strung as she had been the past several days, but at least she didn't appear ready to flee from her perch against the wall. Shishun and Orria were the only two that managed to appear somewhat relaxed, each in their own ways, with the sharpness of their eyes a faint hint at just how focused and ready they truly were. John returned the ladies' nods with a confident one of his own, hoping to cut through some of the anxiety.

"This is our last training session before the week-long marathon, and I'm going to spend most of the day tomorrow setting that up. We're not decided on exactly how we'll be forming the groupings for that yet, so... this may be the last dungeons some of us run together until the war's over. I know I'm not the only one feeling the tension ramp up around here. None of us really knows what an Abyssal War is going to look like. Even Moira and Kim have never been in one like this. There are a lot of uncertainties coming up, and I know that doesn't help with the nerves."

John's fingers drummed against his thigh as he searched for the right words. The silence in the room pressed against him, heavy as the weight of his armor. His throat tightened as an old memory surfaced from the dredges of his mind—the memory of Julianna, seeing through his ineptitude in an instant at their first meeting, lecturing him for being so ignorant of the Abyss, and then Moira for allowing him to remain so. Now here he stood, surrounded by expectant faces, trying to explain a war he barely understood himself.

John's hand stilled against his leg. No, he wasn't that fumbling novice anymore. Perhaps he had never seen war at this scale, but he had known more battles than years of schooling, and he had brought war to those who attacked his home. He would not cower in the face of anything - not an army, not Julianna, and certainly not his own self-doubt.

"But I also know this: There's no team I'd rather have at my side going into this than those of us gathered here, and those waiting for us back in Springfield. I trust all of you with my life, and I hope you can say the same. Things haven't always been easy, and we've been tested time and time again. The Cabal, the Albidians, the journey to the west coast and our incursion into Paix, and now this. But everyone here has proven themselves, time and time again. I have full faith that we'll emerge victorious when the time comes."

John pushed aside the doubts that rose in him as he spoke. Much as the thought terrified him, today he had to be every bit the leader that Sophia always viewed him as. To show everyone that he believed in them, and that they were safe, whatever might come in the days ahead.

"Today is just as much about proving that to ourselves—and each other—as it is training. I want full cooperation today, everyone. No fighting, no arguing, and no one-upping each other. I want you all to pay close attention to one another today. Not just to watch each other's backs, either. We're not the same people we were a year ago. We're not even the same people we were a few short weeks ago. The Abyss has **** us to grow faster than I'd like, but the rewards for that suffering are not to be underestimated. As we fight today, look back on the road that you've traveled, and the paths of those at your sides. Remember every stumble, every trip, every blockage in the road... and see how far back they really were. How far we've come. How much further we'll go together, as long as we stick together. So long as we have our family."

Silence reigned. John had hoped that someone would speak up by this point, that he would be reprieved of the weight he felt on his shoulders. The intensity of their gazes lay heavily on him, and in the anxiousness he tried not to project in his posture, he couldn't tell if he was making things better for them or not.

"All of us have been working together to give us as many advantages as possible. Yvara and I have been working in the alchemy lab; in the days leading up to our departure from Springfield, I'll be finishing up as many potions and brews as I can, and explaining how to use each of them to all of you. Vallya and Yvara have been helping with enchanting work, too. And, although I didn't request this of them myself, Moira and the Order's many artisans have been hard at work, as well as the Moon Clan. They've forged gear and weaponry for many of you. Orria, Moira is yet to become familiar with your style. I'm not sure the Order knows strong enough nature enchantments to amplify your abilities further anyway."

"I'll find a way to make due," Orria said politely, her smile remaining unwavering.

John carefully opened the main window of his inventory, leaving the other tabs docked. From that page he pulled forth five cases, none of them the same sizes as the others. The coffee table creaked in dismay as John set the heaviest of the cases in front of Maera, and the table's surface quickly became cluttered, but John managed to place each case in front of its owner. He left Sophia's resting in front of her where she was leaning against the wall, giving her a smile as he did so. He was relieved when a matching one was returned to him.

"I understand that adapting to new equipment at the last minute may not be ideal, but they made efforts to ensure this equipment was as suited to your fighting styles and body types as possible. They're also all heavily enchanted for both offensive and defensive purposes, particularly against necromancy. Go ahead, take a look."

There was a moment of hesitation, then the five of them began fiddling with their cases. Maera and Mithra were the fastest by far, with Maera swaying excitedly as her fingers fumbled the full-sized trunk open and threw back the lid. Mithra wasn't far behind, with her smaller, rectangular case popping open just as Maera leaped into the air.

"Yaaaay! More cute outfits!" Maera happily exclaimed, purring as she rubbed the metal breastplate against her own, much squishier "breastplate". The armor matched her old uniform in appearance for the most part, with a few additional sigils and golden flourishes that helped to both conceal and enhance the additional lines of mana imbued into the armor.

"They're- you know what, they're cute, I'll admit. And as long as you wear them in battle, I don't care what you call them," John said, rolling his eyes.

"But I don't like this part. Gonna make my arms and legs all heavy. Why'd they make 'em so big and clunky?" Maera complained, lifting up a gauntlet in one hand and a boot in the other. Each was a piece that was indeed noticeably thicker and heavier than her old set.

"You've gotten stronger, you probably won't even notice the difference, especially after next week," John pointed out. "I asked the same question, though. Moira said their enchanters were stretched a little thin and didn't have the time to use more efficient enchantments, and they don't exactly have an abundance of mana gems and crafting supplies anyway. They compromised by making a set of heavier gauntlets."

"Nyaa? My old ones weren't enchanted. Why are these ones?" Maera asked, holding the armored gloves up as if they were rancid.

"Your whole armor set is enchanted, Maera. They weren't when the Order crafted them originally, but I strengthened the material over time. If I hadn't, they'd shatter every time you punched someone while wearing them. Heck, even the recoil of your holy magic could probably do it. You really don't realize how much stronger you've gotten, do you?" John paused a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I did say that's what today is all about. But the real answer is because when Glenna saw what you can do now, she requested this herself. These gauntlets are supposed to enhance holy magic—it's apparently standard issue for Order Knights. They didn't do any last time, but-"

"Ooh! Maera gonna hit reaaaally hard now! Thanks, Myaster," Maera said, leaping over the table and clearing the case in a single bound, throwing her arms around John hard enough to rattle the gauntlets against his spine.

"You're welcome," John responded breathlessly, patting the back of Maera's head and gently resting his chin atop it. "Just be careful. Glenna said something about you having to worry about recoil. I tried asking her what she meant, but she just made a joke about seeing a cat fly over the Manor. Then she started laughing and walked away. It was kind of scary."

"Silly Myaster. Cats don't fly!"

"...I hope not."

"Hey, Myaster," Mithra interjected, tilting her head as she reached into the case, "why is it all glowy and green?"

"Yeah, same question, weirdly," Lerianna added.

Mithra was holding up a set of armored gloves that resembled the ones she was already wearing, albeit with a few additions, like the glistening green markings along the elbow and wrist joints. Lerianna had something similar; hers were white, though, and emblazoned with golden trim along the whole length that shimmered just as brightly as the emeralds embedded in the joints. Although she hadn't hoisted one out of the case, John knew there were a set of matching boots further down the hefty case.

"Mithra, these are a slightly upgraded version of your current gear. Since you've been using those astral projections-"

"Myeowstral projections."

"Astral projections," John reiterated firmly, tightening his throat as he spoke to stifle a giggle, "it wasn't really feasible for the Order to develop a way to enhance those in time. Yours are mostly meant for durability and protection. Tricia did add a little something to them, though. She said it's based on the same design as her suit, except instead of restricting your emotions or your power, it's designed to do the opposite. It should automatically adjust itself during battle, but please go easy until we know it's calibrated and working right. It won't help your spells, but that should give you plenty of punch even if you run out of mana."

"But I still only have two arms, Myaster. How much punch can I have?" Mithra asked, holding up her fists and staring at them innocently.

"We both know you're smarter than that."

"Still adorable, though," John thought as Mithra devolved into snickers from being called out.

"What about mine?" Lerianna finally interrupted, glancing at the boots. "Even if it wasn't glowing, I'm guessing all this gold isn't just because the Order has some really fucking gaudy tastes?"

"Well, they do love their gold." John gave a light roll of his eyes to accompany his shrug. "But no, those are enchantments that they put in to let them naturally tap into your mana. They should add a little of the Lady's holy magic to any strike you land. There should be a rune on the bottom of the heels and at the inside of the elbow joints to turn them off, but unless you have a reason to use your mana—or I guess if we end up fighting angels inside a Dungeon Barrier—you shouldn't have to worry about it."

"You sure? Remember, I don't have your bullshit powers. Running out of mana isn't gonna make me feel too exhausted to fight, is it?"

"At worst, it seems like some pretty bad fatigue, and that usually has more to do with the fight than anything else," John said, hoping to reassure her. It was true that it took a lot for him to feel even a little tired, but he'd seen the others deplete their mana enough to know it didn't leave them completely incapacitated. "But that's another thing today will be good for. If any of you decide it's too much to adjust too quickly, we can-"

"Father…"

John paused immediately as he heard the whispered word coming from Sophia. Swiveling his gaze over, he found the harpy staring into her case with reverential awe, her eyes wide and shimmering on the verge of tears. Daintily, as if she were terrified of even touching the contents, Sophia reached into the rectangular case and lifted free an immaculate sheath. With shaking fingers, she drew a glimmering sword that hummed as it was drawn, filling the air with the song of **** so familiar to them all.

The blade was stunning in its presentation, pristine and shining in the light. All of their new armaments were, but there was something pure and impeccable about the way the sword glistened in the light, the way the flat of the blade rested on Sophia's bewildered palm. The sword was mirrored after John's own, identical in shape and material, albeit with only two runes etched on the flat of the blade, rather than the full ensemble that the Fang of the New World had.

"Kim had Koharu forge it. It's just as strong and durable as mine, according to her." John had intended to wait for Sophia to process and react, but the amazonian harpy was frozen in time, unmoving save for the rise and fall of her chest and the slightest quiver in her limbs. "Since you don't really make use of magic in combat, she didn't include the spellcasting or mana-storing runes. The Rune of Puppeteering and the Rune of Disruption still require mana, though, so you'll have to learn to manage that. Oh, and practice with the Rune of Puppeteering in your spare time. That one, uh, let's just say it takes some getting used to."

"F-Father, I am in no way worthy of this," Sophia whispered at last, finding some strength to speak. She held it level with one hand while tracing the flat of the blade with the other, her finger barely grazing the smooth, pristine metal as it went. After a moment, she recoiled so sharply that John thought she'd accidentally cut herself on the edge.

"Nyaa, we all got nice gifts, why shouldn't yours be nice?" Maera asked, already well into the process of stripping off her old armor and donning the new set.

"I-I don't even use a sword in combat. And this is such a finely crafted weapon, I... you should carry this instead, Father, even if only as an emergency weapon. It is even made to resemble your own. I would dishonor it merely by carrying it into battle."

"I know you're pretty handy with your claws, but there may be enemies that are better off handled from a slight distance. And your feathers can only do so much. I don't want you running into more of those Diseased Husks or Toxic Abominations without a way to hit them without physically touching them." John shuddered at the memory of some of the rather disgusting—and annoying—enemies they had run into at higher levels while running undead dungeons. "Or, y'know, whatever actual necromancers will create instead of ran... dom..."

John's words drifted away from him as the soft sound of whimpers rose up enough to be heard over his words. Mouth agape, John watched Sophia's trembles turn into shudders, and then into full blown spasms. Her chest twitched and jerked awkwardly as she breathed, her whole body beginning to shiver, to the point that it was all she could do to keep the blade somewhat level. Crimson glistened in the light as Sophia bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, a blood-red trail flowing down her chin alongside the crystal-clear streams on either side of it, but even that was not enough to fully subdue the wracking sobs trying to break their way free.

For a spell, she said nothing. She didn't dare to look up at any of them, though by the way the tendons of her neck were standing taut, that was taking quite some effort on her part. Only when her composure had grown so shaky that she could no longer hold the sword evenly did Sophia at last break her silence.

"Please, Father. I am... I am not worthy. I cannot bear this burden. Take this blade from me."

In all the time that he had known her, John had only seen Sophia shed tears once before, and it had taken the **** of Seras to bring that out of her. She had been his rock so long that he'd often thought of her as near immovable, a shelter in any storm. Witnessing her like this, with her body shivering and trembling under the weight of her sorrow, made John feel as if a part of his own chest had been torn away from him.

His feet crossed the distance before the thoughts in his mind had fully formed into a plan. His eyes were locked firmly on the shaking harpy, and he offered the others only a reassuring gesture and a few words as he arrived at Sophia's side.

"Stay here, everyone. I'll be back soon."

With that, a Barrier was erected. The house appeared to remain as it was, but the others faded away, leaving John alone with the grieving woman. The subtlest flicker of Sophia's irises gave away that she had noticed the transition, but the towering woman was such a wreck of sniffles and shuddering breaths that it was impossible to read any other small reaction she might have had.

"Sophia…"

The name was so much to the two of them. Cried out, it was a plea for aid, a call to battle. Whispered, a confirmation of presence, a reassurance that he was not alone. Or even groaned out, a proclamation of joy, a declaration of affection and passion that other words were simply insufficient to profess.

But this time, her name resonated in a way it had not before, had never needed to. John's fingers traced the dampness on her cheeks, threading through her hair with the same reverence she had shown the sword. When he lifted her chin, their eyes met, and in his gaze she found the same unwavering faith she had always placed in him. The strength she had given him, returned in full measure.