He awoke to Grisha's warm wet mouth sucking him off. Grisha's bright yellow eyes met his own as she showed how little her gag reflex bothered her. Two weeks in the village had yielded him a healthy nest egg of hentai points, and Grisham helped him with her morning blowjob.
Morning Deep Throat +10 Hentai Points.
The big green asses of two other gobs pressed against his hips, thick sexy, and green. The gobs were becoming a commodity he couldn't do without. But, by mushroom Jesus, he was in heaven. Silas pressed his hands forward, sinking them in the depths of the two gobs flashing him. Their dark green labias glistened in the low light from the lit torches just out the window.
Plush-wringed, dimpled inner walls massaged his fingers while he pulled a few Hentia Points out of his gobs.
11,450 Hentai Points
It was a hard-earned number but more than worth it. While Silas was in a hurry to save his Daiyu, he needed a firm grasp on his power. With that in mind, he farmed the monkeys for all they were worth. Every day he killed a dozen and absorbed their blood essence before storing it in his inventory.
Silas was in a rush, but he was also careful. Once, he slaughtered a dark lord that would bring in a lot of baggage. After that, he would be the guy who farted in church during the height of the preacher's sermon. Everyone would know his name, and it wouldn't be for a good reason.
With that in mind, he started preparing to reach the second level of the apocalypse demon body refinement scripture. To that end, he needed to start picturing the demon he wanted to embody. That was an important step needed before even thinking of using a fruit. It's why he saved the blood essence instead of using it directly to strengthen himself.
His stepdad always said to work smarter, not harder, when he wasn't talking about how great the Native Americans were. John Fresh had a fetish, and it was romanticizing a culture their own had destroyed. Silas wanted to take on that old evil white man spirit of his ancestors to help him wipe out at least one fallen dark lord. He was trying the time-honored tradition of shooting animals for sport to work his way up.
Silas made it a point not to stare at the monkeys roasting on spits or being smoked by the gobs outside. He was being wasteful; the gobs liked to use every part of the animal.
Grisha made some mean roasted monkey. He liked the monkey bacon-wrapped cave mushrooms the best so far. If they could get out and start trading with other monster tribes for some cheese, then Silas's stomach would be happy.
As Silas stuffed his fingers deeper into two gobs that loved to squirm and show off their goodies, he heard loud footsteps.
The door to the bedroom opened, and a gob ran in, out of breath. "Dark Lord, there is an elf here to see you. She claims to be the daughter of Ur and wants your help overthrowing him. Or that's what she keeps muttering in elvish like she's rehearsing a lie." Bursh said.
Bursh was the tribe's gossip queen; gobs were blunt short stacks that liked to spy and mess up the plans of other races. According to the Bursh, they had no dark lord. Ur didn't come by or help them out against the monkeys or spiders. So they were happy to replace him. Monster girls seemed to work more like a pride of lions than a community.
When he became a dark lord, he would guard his territory against his rivals. Dark lords that challenged cities or the gods didn't last long heroes often came along and did away with them. Then there was Ur's plot and the elf girl's declaration.
"Aren't most monstergirls in the cave system his daughters?" Silas asked.
Grisha pulled off his dick and opened her mouth to let long strands of gooey saliva fall on it before turning around. His favorite gob raised her ass before gliding her cheeks up and down his cock. Silas could feel her hot pussy lips press against his dick while she did the work.
"She's an elf," Grisha said.
"That doesn't explain a damn thing. There are other elves. What about the driders Ur has fathered?" Silas asked.
"All of them think they're his true heir, and the way they tell it, they believe it. Elves believe it for the same reason; they think we can't understand their musical language.
…
The dark lord Ur pondered his latest victory on a silk throne made from the sewn-together bodies of enemies from past glories. His latest challenger for the territory lay broken at the foot of his throne. A tier 3 dark lord managed to surpass his rivals and moved to take Ur's territory, with one of Nestle's daughters trying to become the next queen. It was no longer a challenge, merely a predictable process where he controlled every facet of the aspirant's growth. Within the cave system of his territory, many aspirants worked their way up from squalor under his direct patronage. It was a scheme, then an experiment, and over time he refined it into a process. The dark lord of spiders used his time wisely to perfect his process of return.
His many dark elf progenies were sent out to add themselves to the harems of aspirants and mold them into a consort worthy of his heir, or that's what he told them. Elves weren't dumb; they could learn faster than humans, and their long lives allowed them to study far more than any human scholar. If not for their pride, envy, and greed holding them back, elves could be the most powerful Monstergirl race. They would rule and manage dark lords instead of the other way around.
An elf was powerful if a dark lord didn't know how to handle them. By their very nature, dark elves are violent monstergirls obsessed with furthering the prospects of their house. Under his manipulations, they believe they created pure heirs by placing their dark lord aspirants down the path of black lord stones. They were as right as they were wrong. Ur created an heir to his lord stone through them, allowing him to slay the aspirant and take their lord stone for himself.
Ur held one successfully crafted black ward stone in his hand. While it didn't work perfectly for him, it worked well enough. Unfortunately, stolen lord stones couldn't increase their tier. But that was ok; he had another use for them. He offered the lord stone to the fragments of his shattered stone. The stone in his hand turned to dust, and his own stone regained the slightest fraction of its former strength. The fragments floated around him, each grown nearly the size of proper lord stones. From his defeat Ur, the dark lord of spiders, would rise.
He had fallen, but soon he would rise again. It had been thirty years, but he was sure Alba hadn't forgotten him. Did no one see his features in their daughter? Shapra had taken her as a paladin, and if what his spies told him was correct, she led an army to invade his underground kingdom. It's how he knew he was close to surpassing his former power. The god of reincarnation conspired to kill him with his child.
"You're thinking of her again, aren't you," Nestle said.
The spider-woman's face was pale like a porcelain mask. Small fangs peaked below ruby lips, always willing to give her a poisonous kiss. Nestle wouldn't understand; how could she? All her daughters looked like her. Ur had only one daughter that was truly his instead of a clone of their mother.
"Will the one who got away never cease plaguing you? Soon your power will return, and you will become a dark lord in power and wisdom once more. Tribes of monstergirls will rush into our ranks, and our territory will expand. Once again, we will conquer." Nestle said.
"You know me so well. Yes, maybe it's time I forgot about Alba." Ur said.
If he said, his little girl's name Nestle would have poisonous spiders bite her. But without Nestle, he would lose everything. No man ruled alone, especially a fallen dark lord. His queen class, red back drider, was the true ruler of his territory. He needed power if he was going to turn the tables. All he needed was one more black lord stone to rise again. An aspirant on the rise was near the one who fell weeks ago. Through his will, he whispered, planting the idea of an easy place to gather sacrifices. The boy took to the idea like it was his own. An obvious candidate to create a black lord stone. With any luck, the attack would convince the boy of the need for power and self-reliance. A seed that could grow into a black lord stone.
Other whispers moved aspirants to battle while his little girl led a crusade to take Ur's head. It was a race against time.
…
Grisha and Bursh dressed him in his finest and even did his hair. Dracula's blue satin suits fit him better than expected. The rapier on his hip sold the outfit.
After weeks of butchering monkeys with the weapon, it had grown on him. He had grown used to killing unarmed combatants and reciting the sutra after each battle. It had become a part of his routine after only a couple weeks.
Silas pulled at his coat, testing the fit before turning to Bursh. "What should I expect from the elf?" Silas asked.
The girl sees herself as royalty and you as a lottery winner. You are a poor barbaric human that got lucky. She will come into our village, make demands, act like she owns the place, and sell you the idea of hunting other villages in the tunnels. She's here to mold you like clay." Bursh said.
"How do the elves not catch on?" Silas asked.
"They are like kids who arrogantly think they are the fastest because they slightly beat their peers in a foot race. We gobs have seen the sky. They are content to believe this system of cave tunnels is the whole world." Grisha said.
"What about what I'm wearing?" Silas asked.
Bursh chuckled. "She thinks you're a barbarian. This will throw her off." The short goblin smacked a sleeping gob's rear, waking her up. "It will be a little like this," Bursh said.
"Let's get out there and remember we can't speak or understand elvish. I'm sure she'll count on that to get away with plenty of insults and maybe leak something important." Grisha said.
He stepped out of Grisha's home and walked down the brick-stone path to see a carriage pulled by giant moles of all things. Black iron spikes covered the wheels leading to an iron carriage. Not much was wood; it appeared materials in the underground were limited to metals. There wasn't anything in the way of shock absorbers, so it was most likely a horribly bumpy ride.
Silas felt bad for the elves if this was meant to shock and awe them with wealth.
Silas looked for runes or any sign of magic that might square his circle. There were air holes but nothing in the way of seeing outside. Some artwork was on the carriage with what looked like stickman wars, but he couldn't make them out at half a football field away, body enhancement or not. Nevertheless, a symbol of a circle with eight spider legs was telling. Behind the carriage, a dozen dark elves in sleek black armor armed with crossbows, shortswords, and throwing knives marched behind, wearing black leather boots. A few stayed in the back; they were barefoot. The moles were like anteaters with big shovel claws perfect for disemboweling enemies, long furry bodies, and long snouts. Of the entire show, only the moles pulling the horribly bumpy carriage impressed him.
One of the better-equipped elves moved out in front of the carriage and opened the door. By the look of them, Silas had a guarantee of 5000 hentai points from the first dark elf encounters and then lots of minor gains.
Adding them before he left would really help him out. The dark elves might have a blacksmith in their group; he would need to get them to design springs and build a suspension quickly. That carriage would make great mobile cover to shoot from. Silas decided to have his gobs design a pulley system to get the carriage of the cave.