Her name, her visage was all that remained in his mind. Alan strained to open his eyes, sensations of extreme pain and lingering fatigue greeting his arrival. He was met with the sight of a wooden ceiling, intricate frescoes adorning the tapestry of ashen bricks. Unaware of his surroundings, Alan's trembling, pained lips moved. His hoarse voice formed broken words as his limbs staggered but managed to straighten him up on the comforting and furry surface he lay upon, along with his voice,
"R…R…Relecta…"
——thedhahammmm——
Suddenly, a reverberating clang of metal echoed after his voice. Alan's pained visage startled into shock. He looked ahead, his slow blinking clearing his blurry gaze, pulling a mild smile on his scarred visage that soon began to droop as he saw the condition of the love of his life before him.
There stood Relecta, locks of her long hair tied into a messy bun, which cleared her face. Her features bore the clear marks of her grief and struggle—sunken eyes, dried tears, plump yet sagging cheeks. Her lips, though holding a little more weight than before, had lost their color. A pain tinged Alan's slow-beating heart as he saw scratch marks and small gashes on her neck and arms, reminding him of a bitter memory of Relecta's old form.
Concern and puzzlement filled Alan's mind, creeping up to his lips, but before words could form, Relecta, who had been watching Alan with disbelief, stood trembling. Her mouth remained agape, her eyes widened with tears. For a moment, she remained still before her face lightened up, and she rushed towards Alan, jumping on him with her embracing arms that squeezed hard on Alan's body. Her broken voice echoed in the chamber with disbelief, followed by the thud of her landing on the ground beside Alan,
"Darling…you are awake!!!"
"Ow…ow…ow…ow!! My ribs!!" The moment Alan felt Relecta's warmth, her soft body leaning down on his, his concern and puzzlement faded for a moment as a piercing sensation rose in his body, his ribs stabbing inside his body. He cried out, but the happiness of his awakening silenced his pained groans to Relecta, who held a tight embrace on Alan's body, her head resting on his chest. Tears of relief seeped out of her closed eyes, followed by wheezing sobs and shivering words,
"You…are…awake, darling…I…I…I missed you so much!!!!!!" Relecta's voice echoed in the chamber, halting Alan's pained retort. Her words turned Alan's eyes on her, who, for a moment, forgot about his pain. While looking at his sobbing wife with longing and love in his eyes, Alan muttered through his pain,
"There…there. Don't cry. I am fine, my love. C'mon, sit up. C'mon, Relecta, here, look at me." Alan urged with his disused voice, holding her shivering shoulders firm, trying to guide her up with his weak limbs.
Slowly, Relecta sat up, resting on her knees. Her tears and wheezing sobs continued as she mumbled with her teary voice,
"I… thought… I thought you were never… going to wake up."
"I thought so too, but hey, here I am." Alan said with a wide smile, squinting his eyes in an attempt to lift the mood of his sobbing wife.
But the gesture worked against him as Relecta quickly wrapped her arms around Alan, resting her head on his shoulder. Alan felt the piercing pain again but decided to keep it hidden this time, giving time for his wife's emotions to sink in.
As Relecta sobbed on his shoulder, Alan looked around the chamber they sat in. The ceiling and walls held the color of ashes, and though the room was not big, it was covered with colorful mosaics and caricatures depicting a woman donned in divine attire, with a shield and spear in her hand. She was depicted fighting in some, while giving bright blessings to the small humans before her ginormous form in others.
The chamber was dimly illuminated by a chandelier that featured candles with bright flames within it. Directly at the center was a large statue of the same woman. Her features were more realistic than the mosaics, with craftsmanship shining through the details of the deity's form.
Though made of marble, the flaps of her attire, the curves, even the eyes protruded so vividly that they seemed to look directly into Alan's eyes. Beside the statue were two slabs of stone, each holding intricate inscriptions in an ancient language. The mystical surroundings and the faint fragrance of incense in the air widened Alan's eyes, his amazement escaping through his lips as he asked,
"Where are we?"
"Mhm… hmm, I think it's a temple of some sort. At least that's what Armis said." Relecta replied, her sobs halting as she relieved Alan from her embrace, her hands wiping away her tears. She looked at Alan with a soft smile.
"Oh… are we now? Well, it certainly looks like one." Alan remarked, his gaze affixed on the statue in the center of the temple. Following his gaze, Relecta turned to look at the statue as well and continued in an emotion-ridden voice,
"I think he said it belonged to Goddess Minerva… I suppose. It was the personal worship place of some queen. Come to think of it, he also said that this whole labyrinth and the chambers are the personal quarters of that queen and her king."
"Oh, did he now. I guess someone is getting smarter while I was asleep. Well, that means I was right leaving you in his care. As stupid as he acts, he's not a half-bad raider. Tell me, what else did he tell you?" Alan's scarred visage displayed genuine emotions of amazement upon hearing Armis's deduction from Relecta. Feeling a lot better about some memories that made him think otherwise about Armis's character, Alan smiled and leaned back, trying to rest against the wall behind him.
But Relecta's face held different emotions at Alan's words. Her eyes lowered as she quietly stood up, confusing Alan at first. Then, as he saw her picking up the iron bowl and plate filled with water from the ground, which she had dropped earlier in her excitement to see Alan awake, her tone felt less motivated as she replied,
"He… also managed to put together some theories about this place as well."
"Oh really? What did he say?" Alan eagerly leaned forward as Relecta returned to his side, placing the bowl and plate on the ground. This time, she joined him, wrapping her arms around him gently and nestling into his embrace, prompting a sweet smile from Alan as she replied,
"He said that these places invoke certain emotions within us to use against us. Just as how the last floor filled us with slothfulness, according to him, this place is… filled with desires." Relecta's voice became hesitant as though she was trying to avoid speaking further on the topic. But seeing Alan's eager gaze, she finished her words,
"He said we have to control them to fight through this place."
"Hmm, interesting…" Alan's amazement became more profound as he pondered over the explanation given by Relecta. He leaned back, trying to rest his head against the wall as he continued,
"Well, I thought of something like this too, but—oww!!! Ahhh!!!!"
Suddenly, Alan's contemplation halted when he put his head on the wall. A stabbing pain constricted the veins of his head, instantly sending throbbing sensations. His body jerked before Relecta quickly sat up in concern. She held onto his arm, gently rubbing his hand that grabbed at the point of pain on the back of his head.
"Careful, darling. Your injuries, they haven't healed properly yet."
Her words made Alan feel the skin he had grazed with his hand. On the back of his head, he felt not his hair but a patch of new skin. Apprehension guided his fingers as he began to feel his hair and suddenly, in realization, Alan exclaimed,
"M-my hair! What happened to my hair?!"
His shocked visage looked at Relecta, who held a look of calm. Guiding Alan's fingers back, she took a deep sigh before replying,
"I am sorry, darling. But we had to cut it."
"Why?!" Alan exclaimed, perhaps his newly awakened mind or a genuine concern making him worried about the shortness of his locks. Relecta, holding a consoling expression on her face, continued,
"Your wounds, darling. Though they were healing, we were afraid that the blood and grime stuck in your hair might get into your skin. So that is why…" Relecta's consoling gaze turned, guiding Alan's eyes towards a small sword lying in the corner of the temple as she continued,
"Armis used that to cut your hair so your skin could have proper space to heal."
"But was it really necessary?!" Alan's frustration mounted, imagining his visage as a weird and creepy reflection in his mind. He noticed his form—naked and covered in makeshift bandages of cerulean cloth covering spaces on his upper body, arms, and legs. When he raised his gaze, he saw the concern and grief in Relecta's eyes, which betrayed his own emotion. Relecta spoke further, explaining the gravity of Alan's condition.
"I know you may be disappointed, my love, but try to understand what I felt. You've been unconscious for a long time. I can't tell the time accurately in this place, but it felt like months to me. It was even worse than the time you went unconscious after the battle with that monster… Augustus…"
Her pained words, the genuine concern and worry in her eyes, and the pulsing emotions in her body displayed the courage it might have taken for his wife to remain hopeful for his arrival in this wretched place. Alan, though still tinged with disappointment, calmed himself down. He leaned ahead, his hands moved from his short hair to embrace his wife in a calm hug, before he apologized.
"I am sorry for causing you so much trouble. Tell me what else happened while I was unconscious, my love."
Welled-up tears in her eyes fell down as she felt the faint warmth of Alan's body. She gulped her grief before, with a low voice drowning in recollection, Relecta spoke.
"When you fainted, we were scared that you might have… but when Armis examined you, he told me that you were just unconscious, just like that one time. So we knew that there was nothing to be done. If you were to wake up, we knew it was on your own. So Armis opened the gate leading to this floor and with the first step…"
Relecta's words trailed off, a string of memories appearing before her eyes, prompting confusion from Alan's hovering visage. He held Relecta's hand in consolation as she continued after a
deep breath.
"We were attacked by these creatures called Sat… Sty… Stuers? I am not sure, but they were these disgusting beings with small stature, the head of a lamb, and the body of a small child. They had swords just like that." Her gaze traveled towards the sword she had mentioned earlier once again before she continued.
"Even though we were healed and stronger, their quantity was too much. It was hard for me and Armis to fend them off while protecting you. Very hard."
As Relecta continued, her voice began to fade in Alan's ears. Suddenly, his eyes began to scan her attire. Now that Alan took a good look at her body, he realized that much of her skin remained exposed suggestively. A cascading tear from the seams of a skirt hung from her waist to her feet, exposing her long shiny legs. Her big, plump, hanging bosom was only covered by a small hanging chest plate, from which peeked the silhouette of her pink nipple. Though he knew his wife's choice of clothes, the bare-boned clothes hanging on her curvaceous body still seemed too thin for her.
Words of concern and puzzlement began to form on Alan's lips, but suddenly his worrying eyes fell on a nasty-looking scar near Relecta's elbow. This time, along with his lips, the worry and puzzlement guided his hands as well. He grazed the scar on Relecta's hand and asked,
"My love, wh… what happened to you? Th… these scars, your clothes, h… how long was I out for?"
Before answering the dreadful worry of her husband, Relecta softly grazed his trembling hand placed on her elbow before gently turning and cupping his face in her arms, holding a consoling gaze in her eyes, trying to convey her calm into her husband as she replied.
"My love, it… it was a long journey here. The labyrinth stretched far, and each step had a new obstacle, from grotesque creatures to traps that seemed to want to keep us from moving forward." In an attempt to console him, when the words coming from her mouth reawakened those memories she had rather forgotten, her hands trembled, her lips shivered shut, and emotions began to stream down from her eyes. She embraced Alan's puzzled body again, as though the warmth she felt from his body was the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.
"I… I… we had to do many things to keep you and us safe. The labyrinth and chambers may have looked luxurious, some even safe, but we had learned our lesson on perception on the last floor. Call it our caution or this will to live, that somehow, even though… I had to… do… things… I rather…" The dread in Alan's confusion deepened even further as Relecta explained, her voice breaking into even more tears.
The tremblings of pain, the shivers of agony traveled from her body to his. His weary mind could not even begin to comprehend the height of struggles they, she, had to go through just to keep him safe. He clenched his teeth; he wanted to know what had happened, what had caused her so much pain, but he was scared that if he were to push her further, she might break like fragile glass. So he did what he could, rubbing her tight pulsing back with whatever consolation he could muster, into his grazing fingers.
"It's okay, Relecta, if you don't want to talk about it—"
"No… it's… it's fine." Alan felt the receding warmth of Relecta's body, a tingling coldness as she moved away from him, wiping her relentless tears. She managed to pull up a smile as she spoke further with attempted optimism.
"I am sorry you had to see me like this. You see, I was afraid that even though your wounds were healing, covering them up could help the process, so I used whatever cloth I could salvage from my attire. And these scars… let's just say these are some of the souvenirs I got from the dreadful struggle of ours that just ended. Two… I think, I am not sure of the time, but I am sure it's been two days since we stopped in this temple." Her voice slowly began to calm into softness, her face beginning to show a little color, which pulled a sigh of relief from Alan's lungs as Relecta continued explaining.
"You see, we realized that those creatures can't enter this temple. I think even after being in such a place and ruins, there is some power that remains in this temple."
A chuckle then a smile followed after her words as she took a soft look at the chamber and the statue in the center before locking her eyes back on Alan with love.
After returning her love-filled gaze, Alan took another look around the temple—Minerva's temple, as Relecta had told him. Though he was not certain of the divinity himself, Alan could feel a strange calm and resonance within the walls surrounding them.
Despite the likely ruination of the chambers outside, similar to the labyrinths in the lower floors, the frescoes, caricatures, and ornaments around the statue appeared mystically preserved. Relecta's comments resonated with the aura Alan perceived from the chamber; the worshiper, the devotee of the Goddess standing before them, must have been a very faithful individual.
As Alan's eyes traveled down towards the closed gate of the chamber, a question that had been lingering in his mind finally came to his lips. "So… where is Armis?"
Her face had begun to lighten up, but as soon as Alan's question reached her ears, a streak of tension flickered across her face. A pause lingered on her lips, and her gaze danced back and forth. Hesitation colored her words as she replied, "H… He… Armis went on ahead. He said since this place was safe, it was logical for us to set camp here. He told me that we were near the next Lord of Monsters' chamber, so he decided to face whatever waited ahead and ordered me to stay here with you, to prevent something like what happened to Longiseus and his wife from happening again."
"What?!! He went alone?!!" Alan's concern turned into dread and apprehension, bursting through his lips in a loud tone. "Is he mad?!! He could be in danger; we need to go help him—"
As Alan's dread and apprehension began guiding his body, trying to stagger up, Relecta quickly halted his rise, grabbing his hand tightly and eliciting a groan of pain from Alan. She guided him back down, her voice calming his raging emotions as she began explaining in a stern tone that became cryptic, filling Alan with even more confusion. "Calm down… just calm down, honey. There… there is no need to worry. He… he has changed."
"W… what do you mean?"
"I mean, it's… I… it… I mean you know how he had changed after that battle with that monster? His powers, his body, his behavior?"
"Yes…"
"It's the same, but not that drastic. Armis has become stronger, more… ruthless. Whatever shred of sympathy and essence of the old Armis was there, it's… it's not there anymore. And… I… I think he can handle himself. Either way, I'm sure right now we would be nothing but a liability for him."
Seeing the contortions on Relecta's features—her averting eyes, squinted cheeks, and biting lips—prompted complex emotions from Alan. While her words attempted to console Alan's concern for their friend, her hesitation, hidden in those words, deepened Alan's dread with puzzlement. His heart felt that there was something more that Relecta wanted to say, but something had constricted her tongue, tightened her throat, and restricted the emotions that wanted to get out.
Suddenly, Alan felt a strange sensation surge through him as he moved forward. The sight of his wife's almost teary, innocent eyes beckoned him closer, warming his weary body with a newfound intensity.
His concern for her hesitation faded as he yearned to touch her, to envelop her soft, tall frame in his embrace and bask in her warmth. Relecta stayed silent as Alan drew near with a gentle touch, his naked form closing the distance between them. His bandaged fingers traced delicately along her cheek, following the path of her shimmering gaze until they rested on her neck. Alan leaned in, a strained breath of warmth caressing Relecta's neck, and from her parted lips came a breathless question,
"What... what are you doing, Darling?"
Alan didn't respond until his hands moved again, grazing down her tall, cascading back. They stopped when his fingers gripped the soft squishiness of Relecta's butt.
Her body jerked with the sudden sensation, which Alan used to pull her closer. Her barely concealed body rested and grazed upon Alan's lap as he adjusted to a more comfortable position, stopping when his groin finally settled beneath her womanhood.
Suddenly, the serene and divine atmosphere crackled with a swirling tension of desire. While the temple kept the creatures of the labyrinth at bay, the labyrinth's essence permeated through the closed gates of the chamber, engulfing Alan in a warmth that yearned for the touch and presence of his beloved. He expressed this yearning as he murmured,
"I don't know what's happening… but suddenly… I want you. I need you, Relecta."
Her body tingled with a familiar sensation as Alan's warm words caressed the curves of her chest. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, and a wave of arousal surged through her. Guided by her escalating desires, her hips gently rocked back and forth, brushing against Alan's taut soldier. She lowered her head, eyes shimmering, tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she whispered in a sultry tone into Alan's ear,
"This place… it's affecting us, isn't it?"
Alan gritted his teeth in desire, the ache transforming into pleasure with each of Relecta's movements. His grip on her soft skin tightened, nails pressing gently as he replied, warmth infusing his words,
"Well… maybe… but… remember… how you wanted… a child?"
The unexpected words that slipped from his lips momentarily halted Relecta's movements. She raised her head, eyes widening in surprise, a mixture of emotions flickering across her features. Before she could respond, Alan gazed deeply into her eyes, smirking faintly.
Without waiting for her reply, he leaned forward and captured Relecta's lips in a wet, passionate kiss that silenced any words. The intensity of the kiss erased all other expressions from her face, leaving only the burning passion that they shared.
The air, once serene and divine, now crackled with burning passion. The flickering candles of the chandelier cast sultry, alluring shadows on the walls around the impassioned couple.
The unyielding stone gaze of the goddess remained unwavering, whether judging or observing with a shy gaze—it mattered not to them.
As Relecta resumed her gentle movements, her eyes filled with dripping passion, meeting Alan's strained yet longing gaze that called out for her warmth. Relecta gently guided Alan's fingers up her trembling back, grazing them until they rested on the clasp of her chest plate struggling to contain her bouncing, passion-filled bosom.
Amidst their rising breaths, a soft click followed by a gentle thud echoed in the air. Her plump, soft breasts now lay exposed before Alan's eyes, their movements alluring and inviting. He gently buried his face in their softness, overcome with desire.
A wave of rejuvenation washed over Alan as he slowly moved his head, his tongue tracing tantalizing patterns across Relecta's moistened skin, evoking passionate moans from her lips.
His tongue traced delicate paths across her plump, cushion-like breasts, which seemed larger than his own face, igniting his desire even more. A soft, groaning sigh escaped her wet lips as Alan delicately pinched her taut, erect nipple between his teeth, then soothed it with his tongue, eliciting quivering moans of pleasure from her body. After lavishing attention on one side, Alan shifted to the other, fulfilling his wife's longing with each tender touch, satisfying her thirst for his love.
As the juices of her love for him began to overflow from her body, she slowly cupped Alan's face, her heating and passion-filled innocent visage rising.
A moment emerged—a feeling, an intention, a need for special intimacy shone in both of their eyes. It began when Relecta gently nodded to Alan and lifted her body inches above his. For a fraction of a moment, it seemed that everything was as good as it could be before a wave of desire washed over them both. Relecta moved down with a squint of desired pain from both, then with a sultry squeak from Relecta's lips and a warm wheeze of passion from Alan's mouth, it slid in.
Their gazes held in unbreakable silence, satisfied smiles gracing their sweat-dampened faces. The two bodies, tightly entwined, remained still for a fleeting moment. Then she moved up, his essence lingering with love inside her. He felt her overwhelming warmth, it was a friction of passion between lovers, bound by a bond that had shaped their world—a timeless ritual of love, unchanged since the dawn of mankind. It was a practice that birthed kings and peasants alike, that gave rise to both good and evil—a moment forbidden yet embraced by every living being in this world.
With each movement of her hips, she felt his body twitching inside her, and with each passionate embrace from her, he experienced her warmth tightening around him.
Moans and groans of love filled the heavy air between them. And then, with newfound vigor filling his bones and tightening his muscles, the carnal thirst deepened even more. Guided by this impulse, Alan stood up, still embracing Relecta with his essence inside her.
A look of sweaty puzzlement crossed her face as Alan began to move, their tight connection slipping with the juices of their love out of her, until Relecta felt the support of the wall against her back.
Passion burned brighter than the candle flames in Alan's eyes as she smiled, understanding her husband's unsaid request, and tightened her legs around Alan's waist.
With a surge of love and desire, Alan thrust even deeper inside her, causing her eyes to widen with pleasure. She felt Alan's presence deep within her motherhood igniting a sense of fulfillment. As she began to lose herself in the trance of carnal pleasure, Alan's tender bite brought her back to the world, a world filled with his love for her.
As Alan's hips moved, their mingled groans and moans filled the air once again. The initial pain from his bite on her shoulder transformed into heavenly pleasure as she felt Alan deep inside her. He moved faster and faster, their moans and groans escalating with each thrust, filling the air around them with the sound of their passion.
As their bodies shivered in unison, Alan felt a surge building inside him. He stopped suddenly, gently lowering Relecta down to lie on his back. With a mix of confusion and overwhelming warmth, Relecta understood that Alan, like her, was nearing the climax of their intimate ritual.
Taking the lead, she positioned her knees firmly against the ground, using Alan's chest for support with her hands. As she began to move, matching the speed Alan had set earlier, her moans mingled with his pleasured groans.
Alan gripped Relecta's waist tightly, his nails digging into her skin as hers pressed into his chest. Their faces contorted with passion and desire, feeling their love reach its peak until Relecta brought them to a stop.
With Alan's body fully immersed inside her, she felt his seed, planting itself deep within her womanhood, a sensation greater than any happiness in the world, lingering within their twitching, shivering bodies until Relecta collapsed onto Alan's chest. Gasps filled the chamber, followed by deep, resting breaths, and a rising happiness. A smile broke through his pain as words of joy slipped from Alan's mouth:
"I… I love you, Relecta… I love you so much. Please, never leave me alone."
His words hung in the air, met with silence from Relecta's heaving body and a creeping concern on Alan's face. Then, she lifted her head, a smile—a gentle yet firm smile—etched on her face as she softly replied,
"I love you too, Alan…"
A moment of longing sadness flickered across her features, prompting Alan to inquire, but before he could, she lowered her head onto his chest. Gradually, Alan felt her heaving body calming into deep, slow breaths, her heartbeat steadying. As her breaths grew distant and quiet, and the rise and fall of her chest slowed, Alan realized she had drifted into sleep.
"I wonder how long it's been since she slept this peacefully," Alan muttered under his breath. His gaze shifted from his wife to the chandelier above. As his own breaths began to calm, Alan began contemplating the trouble his recklessness had caused his wife. She was never meant to be here. As hard as it was, her life had been much safer before she met him. Doubt crept into his mind, making him question his choices, wondering if loving her had been right or wrong.
These doubts didn't stem from viewing Relecta as a liability. Instead, they centered on his own decision to put her life in danger. He had initially protested against it, but when she had confessed her love, he felt bound by an unseen force—a force that prevented him from making decisions that might have been better for both of them. Back then, Alan had convinced himself that she wouldn't be safe without him by her side. Now, looking at their current situation, that justification felt like a bitter irony piercing sharply through his heart.
"Was I selfish?" Alan wondered, but no matter how much he contemplated, there was nothing he could do now—she was his responsibility. "I might have made it even worse," Alan thought, looking down at Relecta's stomach. Suddenly, Alan felt a sharp soreness in his body, followed by a growing heaviness of exhaustion. He groaned in pain, his voice tightening above a whisper.
"Maybe doing this in my condition wasn't a very wise decision—owww! Damn hellhole!" Alan cursed, before gently moving Relecta closer to him. His softened manhood slipped out of her as he laid her beside him, one arm cradling her head and the other wrapping around her now curled-up body like an infant's. He gazed at her innocent face, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead before closing his eyes, drifting into sleep despite his lingering pain.