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_ Two or three millennia of hard training and studying. So long a time... and yet so short. _

Chapter 47: the training begins

Ira had been merciless, and she had guarded over his studying all night long. Killer, who had been told he did not need to sleep at all but still felt he would have gladly got at least a nap in, had been reading into the gigantic Compendium of Basic Magic all night long, getting to grip with the ancient runes of Enochian, the tongue of the Angels. It was what made up the spells for Heaven's magic... and he had to learn them all, remember them, and learn to efficiently get them together into spells. It promised to be a titanic exercise - he knew that some tongues back on the mortal plane worked out of ideograms and had alphabets of over 2000 symbols, which had always felt like a terrible thing, but he was now learning that there were far, far more runes -, and after finishing it, another enterprise would have followed with the repertory of Hell's own Runes and peculiar techniques and spells. He highly doubted he was going to get that far, however, since he did not show much of a talent for magic, nor even for simply memorizing runes: he had spent many hours during the long night to go with Ira over the very simple, very basic Portal spell, and still it had been an harsh battle... and one he was far from sure to have won. He had had no chance to try using the spell for real yet, after all... in the Monastery, countless circles of runes and magical protections made it totally impossible to try and portal around.

Now that the sun had risen into the sky - making Killer wonder once again how much closer the star looked and felt here, compared to the Mortal Plane -, Ira was finally leading him out, towards the "physical part of your training", as she had said. Something he was a lot more confident about: he was faithful he could take on any physical task a lot better than he could deal with studying.

Ira was now wearing a different, but equally showy corset of leather, which squeezed on her enormous breasts, barely containing them, just as the thick leather laces were stretched by her powerful muscles and firm abdominals. She had as usually a simple loincloth completing her clothing, and had for now dropped all of the armor plates, even if she carried her two Katana swords crossed on her back, her wings folded away and invisible, leaving her looking almost like a mortal.

Killer walked at her side as usually only in his black jeans, following her along the scary hanging bridge that leaded out of the Monastery and towards the smaller fortress on the nearby, slightly shorter mountain. Beneath them, only thin air for miles, the ground invisible because of the never-fading clouds that Killer had had to cross during his climbing the night before.

It was unnerving to walk over creaky wooden tables supported only by ancient ropes that, sure, where thick around almost as Killer's wrist, but still did not inspire real confidence, and the huge male could only be glad he did not suffer of terror for the great heights.

It was literally like walking on thin air... and with a vicious, fresh wind roaring in his ears and making the bridge sway from side to side, it did not come out as the best of sensations. Ira, however, was perfectly at ease... and after a few steps down the bridge and a grimace as he looked - down - at the clouds, he gained her side with equal composure, beginning to ask more of his questions, as he had done all over the night.

"Thanathos is a really ancient god. He was around before most, and there's who claim he must be one of the Original Gods that created the universe. This might be excessive... but no one knows for sure, and Thanathos is not collaborative at all in this sense. He does not deny... but he does not confirm either." Ira explained calmly, answering to his hundredth question, which happened to be about the one god that had impressed him the most... and unfortunately not in a good way.

"Yeah, I figured he's not really talkative. And even the other gods can't see him when he decides to make himself invisible, right...?" Killer replied quietly, looking at her curiously until she nodded.

"Thanathos has not always been the god of Death of our world... he already was a god of death, of course. But in this part of the universe, we used to have a goddess of death, before him. Thanathos assassinated her, however... and took on the 'role' after meeting God, and getting his forgiveness for the deicide." The Seraphim added, somehow knowing he was going to ask.

"God." Killer mumbled, before looking upwards to the sky. They were above the clouds, so nothing obstacle the sight of the Sun, enormous and low over them, and of the sky, which turned deep blue in the distance above, almost like they could look directly out in the outer space. "Has He got no name...?"

"Most of us do not dare to speak His name, because we aren't worth to. We have no right to even say His name, with how everyone of us, soon or later, has betrayed His trust and generosity." Ira replied seriously, frowning a bit as she looked away, off to the side.

"No one can be less worth than I am, and I know it." Killer replied quietly, looking down in shame for a moment as memories of his bloody past flashed in his mind like in a nightmare, before he added softly: "But I'm sure that He would never hold it against you if you shared your knowledge with me."

Ira sighed, rolling her eyes upwards before she smiled a bit despite herself, looking over him with amusement as she shook her head slowly. "You are impossible. In a way or another, you always have to get what you want."

"True." Killer replied agreeably, shrugging a bit. "What can I say...? I'm a bastard."

"Asshole." Ira said mildly, grinning to him a bit... before finally nodding, smiling softly as she said: "But fine. You make a good point, after all... God does not really hold anything against anyone."

Killer blinked, surprised that she was willing to really tell him, when he had admittedly expected a firm no... and curiosity had the better of him as he looked at her impatiently as she hesitatingly paused for a few long moments... until he opened his mouth again to urge her on, and she silenced him by finally saying clearly: "Elelyon."

Killer's mouth closed, and he nodded without a word, even as Ira blushed a bit, looking a bit nervous as they walked onwards... and the huge male finally reached forwards to squeeze one of her hands gently, smiling at her gratefully as he said: "Thank you, Ira."

The Seraphim looked surprised at this, her emerald eyes opening as she looked down at their hands with something like awe... and Killer thought that a smile had crested her lips for a fleeting moment, even as she had nodded with a neutral grunt, quickly looking away.

Killer smiled a bit to himself at this, entertained and curious at the same time about what made Ira always so careful and almost hostile. Somehow, she seemed to expect nothing but contempt by the others, and the little affection and gratitude he had shown had been enough to touch her in the deep, past her outer shell of bitchiness. The huge male had already noticed that the other Seraphims in the fortress weren't very friendly to her, and the angels seemed to be even worse: they took her orders, of course, and they feared her... but they were cold and unwelcoming towards her. He had been around for little more than a night... but he had already noticed many signs of it. What he still missed was the reason why this all happened... But Ira refused absolutely to talk about it, and Killer knew he had asked too many times already not to come across as meddlesome.

"Who was this... goddess of death that was killed so long ago, then...?" Killer asked instead, as they came close to the small fortress that was technically the real entrance to Eaglenest.

"Azura." Ira said softly, nodding a bit as she seemed to revive fond memories. "Formidable fighter, and a totally different kind of ruler over Death than Thanathos is. There was nothing dark, nothing mysterious about Azura... your mortal idea of Death kind of works well to depict Thanathos, but it totally fails at depicting Azura. She was a lot more interested in the fact that death gives access to a new life in either Hell or Heaven, or fuels new creation when a soul is disassociated into energy in the Unworld at the very end of the cycle, over the destructive aspects of death." The Seraphim paused, sighed and shook her head slowly, stopping in her step and turning to the side, to lean her arms on the rope of the bridge, looking over the carpet of clouds beneath them. "She was a far better goddess than any... and she was so far greater and better than Thanathos will ever be. But Thanathos murdered her, cowardly attacking her with the betrayal, and the help of his invisibility. And God... He conceded his forgiveness to Thanathos. The only act of Him that... I will never understand. And definitely never accept."

Killer looked over her powerful back softly, smiling a bit as he felt the sadness and the rage in her voice: probably, she had directly known Azura... and her murder had left in her wounds deep and poisoned. And much as she served God, respected him, even loved him in his generosity... she had never accepted how he had pardoned the assassin, and she probably would have never been able to, no matter the Eons that passed.

"She's done so much, and so much good, for so many." Ira added quietly when Killer leaned on the rope as well, close to her side, looking at her with sympathy. "And you might find interesting to know that she was also the best Prophetess that ever existed... and her most important Prophecy is the one about you, Amon-Ra."

"Really...?" Killer asked, looking surprised. Ira nodded neutrally, before turning back to look over the clouds idly as he looked down with a heavy, drawn-out sigh, rubbing a hand slowly into his mane. "There goes my hope that the prophecy might have been wrong."

"Indeed." Ira replied agreeably, nodding a bit. "Azura's prophecies have never been wrong... and that's why everyone by now takes her words so seriously."

Killer made a bit of a grimace, looking up as a particularly ferocious wave of wind roared in their ears and made bangs of his mane wave around his features, the two staying silent for a long moment even as the bridge swung back and forth like it was alive, before he mumbled: "So, what...? What did she say about me...? I think it is fair that I know it, if it's been predicted that I will die in some horrible way or something."

"Prophecies aren't like that." Ira replied mildly. "People like to think that a prophet can tell them the numbers they need to win the lottery of the next week, and like to believe there's someone who can tell them when they will find the true love, when they will die, and how. But that's not how things work. No one can tell about such details... not even Azura." The muscular female grinned a bit now, looking amused before she turned to Killer and looked at him softly. "I know you, Lord Killer. We have been studying you, and one of the first things we've learned is that you don't believe in Destiny. You are the one who draws your own path, isn't that so...?"

"That's what I like to think." Killer answered with a smile, nodding calmly. "My actions, my decisions and my thoughts shape who I am and what happens with my life. Destiny... I believe to it to a point. There must be some kind of line that guides the events of the world. But before those events, you have to make choices and take action." The huge male paused, looking thoughtful before smiling grimly. "The 'Ineluctable Destiny' is the excuse of the cowards, of the ones who never have the guts of choosing between Right and Wrong. Hell, most don't even have the guts to try and decide what they should do. Isn't it so much better to call it "destiny" and let the events decide what happens to you, to your loved ones, to your world...? But when you think about it, you always have a choice in the end. You can flee, or fight. Choose one side or the other. Intervene or look the other side and walk on... Ultimately, is what you do that shapes the future." Killer smiled a bit, then shrugged and added: "That's what I always thought, at least... but so many of my beliefs have proven wrong lately, that I cannot be sure anymore."

Ira looked at him with a smile for a few long moments, before shaking her head slowly, laughing a bit. "Lord Killer, for someone with the spirituality of a tea spoon, you do have an amazing grasp over reality." The Seraphim seemed to raise her fist to punch his shoulder playfully, but suddenly her cheeks blushed and she turned serious and away, coughing a bit, showing once more the constraints of her diffidence and fear of the others.

"Do it." Killer said amusedly, nudging her playfully as she turned and blinked up at him. "Come on, do it!" The male invited, and the Seraphim hesitated for a moment longer before grinning and lashing her punch into his thick, enormous shoulder, his eyes bulging in surprise and the male grunting as he swayed to the side with the force of her playful blow.

"Now, that is some serious strength." Killer commented, grinning before he poked her strong bicep teasingly. "No muscles for show, huh...?"

"Definitely no." Ira replied with her own grin, before blushing deep red as he wrapped his strong arm around her shoulder, squeezing her muscular and beautiful body against his side. She looked up at him with something like surprise and suspect, but she did not draw away, just staying silent for a long moment... But Killer was almost sure he felt her pushing against his body, seeking his contact, even if imperceptibly.

"Lord Killer, you have a surprisingly good understanding of how Destiny works... and that's why Prophecies can't be so detailed: ultimately, the future is shaped by our choices and actions. Yours makes no exception... how things exactly evolve, it depends from your choices. With a difference: the Path you take, is the path we all take. The whole world will be shaped by your actions. If we are saved, or condemned, it depends by you."

"Reassuring." Killer muttered, but he smiled a bit after a moment. "So, can I hear this Prophecy, finally...?"

Ira looked at him with a soft smile for a moment, then she nodded before closing her eyes and easily chanting: "His power is such, He does not fear the Gods.

Separated in Light and Darkness, reunited in one King_._

_ Thanks to him, the world will die and born again in the same day_."

Killer listened, uncertain about what he should feel, what he should think, what he should say, his hand gripping tightly into the rope of the bridge even as his other arm gently squeezed the Seraphim close, and he finally closed his eyes with a sigh. "It does not sound well. Is it all...?" He asked tiredly, feeling confused and doomed by his responsibilities.

"All of it." Ira replied gently. "And I think it does sound good, instead... You will save us all."

"After the world dies, though, it seems." Killer replied mildly. "I wonder what will be left to be saved, if the "death" of the world is what I think it is."

"The world will be born again, Lord Killer. That's what Azura saw." The Seraphim replied gently, closing her eyes and nodding with the same confidence and trust she already had shown earlier for the lost goddess... and, as her eyes opened and looked up at him, he saw the same trust being placed on him, making him stare at her for a moment in surprise and gratitude, even if no words was spelled between them.

"We should go, Lord Killer." Ira finally said, straightening and drawing away from him with a little sigh, giving him the definite feeling that she did not want their little contact to be broken, much as she voiced the call of duty. "Our priority is to train you, and bring your power in your full control. We don't know how much time we have, but almost surely it will always prove to be too little to really prepare for the future challenges. We must both do our best."

"We will." Killer replied firmly, nodding as she gave him a smile before turning and leading the way down the bridge, her tail swaying quietly from side to side as she walked on, seductive hips dancing before his eyes with each step as he eyed her with interest, from the long, toned and beautiful legs to her narrow waist, from her firm, perfect buttocks to her strong, muscular arms.

"Quit staring." Ira said after a moment, without even turning back as she walked on, but Killer grinned a bit at the note of pleasure he thought to catch in her voice, even as he jogged a couple of steps to gain her side as they reached the massive gates leading into the small fortress that protected the entrance of Eaglenest.

Two angels in full armor and with enormous assault rifles cradled in their arms saluted the Seraphim sharply, but Killer caught two more soldiers glaring at them from a corner, muttering something undoubtedly not pleasant towards Ira.

In part, the huge male knew why they were so hostile: the cobra female had been very severe with the garrison of the Monastery after Killer had managed to get inside the fortress. Ira had mercilessly briefed the officers of the Garrison during the night, calling them in her house and exposing all of their errors, correcting them with firmness.

Killer had been studying the enormous Compendium of Basic Magic on the sofa, and he had seen the meeting going on at the nearby table, and heard it too: the officers must have felt like dumb children under Ira's severe review, and as soon as they had walked out of her house, they had of course doubled the guard, called more soldiers out of the beds and imposed much sharper security rules.

_And took their revenge by turning the blame of everything on their soldiers, of course: for each contestation Ira moved to them, they've piled up their own ferocious insults over their men. Typical... _

Ira ignored them and their comments, however, striding past them and walking under the tall arched hallway leading into the courtyard of the fortress. They emerged into an ample, stone-paved yard surrounded by the thick wall of the fortress. Killer did not miss the crowd of soldiers on top of the bastions, nor did he miss the four huge automated turrets armed with threatening, enormous Gatling guns: there was a turret at each corner, on top of the walls and aimed inwards. Only in that yard it was possible to portal, so that each and every visitor to the Monastery emerged in the middle of the fortress - better to call it an enclosure -, under fire from all directions if recognized as an enemy.

You can always take the long way, though. Killer thought, making a grimace as he thought about his terrifying climb up the side of the black, immense mountain very fittingly named "Monolith".

"You said you saw the quarry last night, right...? Ira asked, crossing her arms as she stood in the middle of the yard, waiting for him to give her a small nod before she said: "Try and open a Portal leading to it, then. Let's see how you do that."

"Ok..." Killer replied mildly, making a bit of a face as he rolled his shoulders a bit before closing his eyes and gathering up the memories of the long night of studying, to remember the right runes as he rose a hand and held it up before himself...

And when he opened his eyes, he saw a wide door ripped open in reality, circled by swirling white energy, the Quarry visible through it on the other side... And he grinned cheerfully, surprised of his own ability, before the portal closed and vanished as his concentration wavered, leaving him frowning with a sulk at his hand, stretched out towards the nothingness where his portal had been.

"Well, it could be worse." Ira commented idly, looking amused as she tapped her fingers over her bulging bicep. "At least, you DID open it. You need to work more on it... But for now..." She flicked a finger absently, and a wide portal opened before them, the muscular female walking forwards and past him, grinning over her shoulder with a wink as he glared at her a bit.

"Bitch." He said flatly, before following her across the portal, stepping out onto the snow-covered ground at the base of the Monolith. The portal closed behind them and vanished, and Killer couldn't help looking upwards to the clouds, amazed despite himself by the might and possibilities of such a "simple" spell.

"Fuck you too." Ira airily said, before looking around over the Quarry a bit, nodding after a moment. "No one's around yet. The workers will be here at any minute by now. But we can go on about our business meanwhile." She paused, motioning for him to follow her as she walked towards the gate of the quarry, brushing the lock idly with her fingers before waiting patiently as the doors swung open on their own to let her pass, Killer following into the perimeter while tossing curious gazes around himself. One surprising fact that he had missed in the darkness of the night before was the amazing color of the stone: just like the Monolith, the rock being extracted from the quarry was an incredible, gleaming obsidian, deep black and lucid.

Again, Killer gazed curiously over the massive, van-sized block of black stone he had already noticed the night before, wondering how much it could weight, and half-tempted to lift it up... and he also had another confirmation that no technology was in sight, nor any instrument, which made him ask himself once more how the quarry could even work.

Ira guided him towards a tall mountain of sturdy wooden crates, the Seraphim looking over these intently, until she let out a little sound-realization as she found what she was looking for, tapping her claws lightly over a large crate before she unceremoniously slammed her fist into it, Killer wincing as wood splinters exploded in every direction as she crumbled the thick lid.

She then bent forwards into the crate with a grunt, and Killer saw her huge biceps flexing with the effort of lifting out something that promised to be terribly heavy, tilting his head curiously at this before staring in surprise as her hands held up a bracelet before him.

It was apparently made of the very same black stone that was all around them in the quarry, and it was several inches thick, looking uncomfortable and bulky, and it actually would have reached halfway up to Killer's elbow had he put it on, but it did not exactly look like something which could have made Ira's powerful muscles bulge that way.

"Wear it." The Seraphim commanded simply, and Killer reached forwards a hand to seize the bracelet as she offered it, before his eyes bulged and his enormous bicep tensed powerfully to hold the thick manacle up, the weight feeling absurd as it dragged his arm down, even with all of his strength.

"What the hell is this frigging thing made of...?" Killer asked incredulously, looking stupidly at the Seraphim as she grinned, crossing her arms on her chest and seeming to take her revenge for the doubt she had seen on his face while he had watched her fatigue so much to lift the bracelet.

"Black Lodestone, Lord Killer." Ira replied calmly, smiling a bit as Killer wrapped the bracelet around his right wrist, making a bit of a face. "The second most-resistant material after the Godblood, the heaviest material known in the universe, and one of the more impervious-to-magic materials. The mountains around us are all made of this amazing kind of stone... and the Monastery is built with blocks of it."

"How much does this weight...? It feels like I've a truck tied to my wrist." Killer muttered, throwing a punch forwards at the air tentatively, and hating how his now obscenely-heavy wrist affected his balance, making him stumble forwards a bit.

"You'd barely feel the weight of a truck, and we both know it." Ira replied easily, smiling a bit as she waved a hand idly. "That bracelet weights a good few tons more than the largest of trucks. But I don't know how many... not important, anyway."

"Sure." Killer replied, rolling his eyes a bit. "I'm the one who has to wear it, after all. No problems, then."

"Stop being a crybaby." Ira mumbled as she turned to dig into the crate again, letting out a grunt as she fetched another bracelet, her muscles bulging as she held it up to him and her eyes bulging almost as much as she stared at him wearing this as well, only grumbling a bit under his breath, but showing little effective strain.

"You didn't think you'd train doing bench-presses and push-ups, did you...? Does little to improve an already godlike strength." Ira observed flatly, looking at him with a mix of interest and shock as he again tried a few blows and movements, trying to get a feeling with the two monstrous weights affecting his arms and screwing up with his speed, agility and even with his balance, almost making him fall on his face when he made a move too violent.

She produced two more thick bracelets, that he clapped around his ankles and that wrapped almost all the way up to the knees, making him feel like he had been buried to the waist in reinforced concrete that he had to break to take each step. If the ones at his wrists weighted like tanks, the larger blocks at his ankles felt like whole warships he had to drag around. His feet all but sunk into the ground several inches every time he took a step, such was the weight, and cracks spread through the earth all around each footprint, as a testament of the mass he was moving around.

"We... might have underestimated your strength." Ira coughed, and then grinned stupidly as he looked at her with a curious tilt of his head. "You were supposed to be unable to bear this much weight on your body. The bracelets have been prepared to help you increase your physical power, but you don't seem half as strained as we expected you to be."

"Yeah, well... I can barely move around and the bracelets screw with my balance every time I move a hand." Killer replied, frowning a bit. "I'd say that's enough strain."

"No, it is not. Don't be a pansy." Ira replied cheerfully, grinning at him from over the edge of the crate as she bent into it to dig out something else. The huge male rolled his eyes at this, before looking at her nervously as she grunted in effort and he saw her powerful muscles flex and get almost painfully tense.

"What are you picking up now...? A Cock-Ring of black lodestone...?" Killer asked mildly, and Ira turned slowly back to look at him flatly, making him grin stupidly back at her.

"Hey, well. You know. You look like one for bondage stuff. And it looks like you are dealing with something big and heavy there." The huge male explained awkwardly, and Ira sighed before beckoning for him to come closer.

"Help me getting this out, before I order to make a cock-ring for real for you." The Seraphim ordered, and Killer winced before walking heavily towards her, each step booming like an explosion and cracking the ground as he lagged awkwardly forwards, making a grimace at how slow he felt he was moving, his thighs already letting him know that they did not like to pull all those tons around.

The new element turned out to be a thick belt of lodestone, and Killer stared at this in horror as he lifted it out from one side, with Ira hefting the other with her fangs gritted, huge biceps bulging so explosively that it looked like her black scales would rip apart.

They pulled it out of the crate, and dropped it to the ground with a wince as it sunk into the earth with a rumble, sending up a cloud of dust.

"Come on, you can't be serious." Killer flailed his arms a bit, making a grimace and pointing a finger at the monstrous block of obsidian stone. "It looks like an ugly offspring of a chastity belt and a... frigging... instrument of medieval torture!"

"Wear it." Ira said firmly, crossing her strong arms with a grin. "Now you might bitch, but knowing you, you will be all proud and high when you pull it off and find that you are ten or more times stronger than now."

Killer opened his mouth to counter, but then he backed off and closed it slowly, thinking that she was probably right: he was proud and admittedly vain about his supernatural force, and there was no way he would have been left unfazed by getting even stronger.

"It still feels like madness." He muttered instead, before spreading his legs a bit and dropping to his knees carefully. He paused, then reached forwards to grab the thick belt in his hands, grunting as he lifted it up from the crater it had ripped into the ground, and gritting his teeth as he wrapped it around his waist, feeling his arms straining and burning with the effort as veins bulged over his enormous biceps as they flexed painfully.

He panted for a moment after finally managing to lock the belt, arms resting atop his legs, hands on his knees as he took a deep breath... before standing up with a grunt, his spine cracking and legs trembling a bit before his eyes bulged as he felt his feet sinking deeper into the ground. Ira stared at this with her emerald eyes wide and gleaming, looking amazed by the relative ease he moved with... and she let out a little whistle, shaking her head slowly as a grin crested her lips.

"You might suck at magic, but Gods... When it comes to muscles, you seem to have got limitless strength."

"Thank you...?" Killer muttered awkwardly, unsure if it was more an insult or a flattering observation. Ira, anyway, smiled amusedly before turning back to the crate once more, kicking it lightly and sending the wooden walls of it exploding in slivers and fragments. Inside it, only a thick, enormous collar was left, a simple chocker with runes carved on the outside. This, too, was made of obsidian stone, and it had actually bent the three-foot thick plate of Godblood that made up the bottom of the crate.

"The belt was supposed to be Level 2 and the collar Level 3... But it seems it'll all be just a level 1 now." The Seraphim said softly, even as Killer stared in horror at the collar before him. "Your strength is absolutely godlike, Amon-Ra... it goes far past our most optimistic estimates. To ensure that such a power grows even greater, we need to strain it significantly." Ira explained calmly, smiling a bit even as he gave her a grimace. "There's no mortal mean of exercise that would have any effect at this point. With you, we need to think not even in Immortals', but in gods' terms."

"You said no one knows what I really am." Killer observed with a hurt voice, and Ira snorted, giving him a bit of a 'don't you frigging get it?' glare before she replied firmly: "We do not know, in fact. But for sure your strength has nothing 'mortal' about it. Now just wear that damn collar, so we can start working."

Killer glared at her flatly for a moment, before walking forwards with a sigh and bending forwards to pick the collar up.

It wasn't the good thing to do, however, since the obscene weight wrapped around his wrist made him overbalance and he nearly fell flat on his face, only the even greater weight at his ankles and waist avoiding it as he let out a grunt of shock and pain, eyes bulging: the belt seemed to want to break his spine in half, and his shoulders already felt sore, his arms' bones feeling like they'd be torn right out of their sockets.

"What the hell... just... what. The. Hell." Killer muttered, snarling a bit as he added bad-temperedly: "Whoever came up with this training idea is a fucking dumbass."

"It works." Ira shrugged, grinning a bit. "And there's not much in the universe that works at increasing the power of godlike creatures like you."

Killer snorted, making a face before struggling to lift the horribly-burdening collar up, fearing that his neck would snap right away under all that weight, but clasping the chocker closed all the same as Ira looked at him impatiently.

"Don't tell me I have to fight with all this stuff on." Killer groaned, and he made a grimace as he added: "I can barely stand on my feet, and my feet literally sink into the ground whenever I take a step."

"Don't worry, for now no fighting with the Lodestone jewels on." Ira replied mildly, before grinning in a way that was definitely not reassuring at all before she added: "You'll work here in the cave, and help building up the new hall of the Monastery. Your strength will greatly speed up the work."

Killer gave her an horrified look, but Ira pointedly ignored it, looking up instead as several burly workers entered the cave and walked towards the warehouse that had awakened the male liger's curiosity already the night before.

Killer looked at them curiously: they were all males, tall and heavily muscled: he saw a bull, that could have easily been a Megataur in Hell with how powerful his huge form looked, a bear, and even a couple of elephants, which towered a good three feet taller than their colleagues, their bodies even more enormous.

The workers looked back at him curiously, and their expressions turned hostile as soon as they recognized him: the Elephants all but glared threateningly at him, and Killer admittedly felt unnerved by it. Normally, he could have taken on both males with his tail tying his legs together, but now, with the monstrous weight of lodestone making him slow as a nail and horribly awkward in any movement, he felt like any fight would have been a major challenge.

Throwing a punch and falling flat on your face is an epic fail example. Especially if you aren't capable to stand back up again because of absurd bracelets dragging you down. Gods, this sucks.

"Aren't those the famous Amon-Ra guy and Ira the "seraphim"...?" One of the two elephants shouted towards Ira, and the Seraphim snorted before replying coldly: "Take care of your business and get working, before I come there and kick your ass all over the cave."

The workers traded a grimace, but none of them seemed ready to get into a brawl against Ira, and they quickly walked inside the warehouse as the muscular female looked at them with distaste.

"Assholes." Ira muttered after a moment, and Killer let out a grunt of agreement, even as he looked to the building with curiosity, wondering about what kind of equipment the workers were going to come out with. For all their obvious strength, Killer doubted they could have lifted the enormous blocks of Lodestone without some kind of kit, either magical or technological, after all.

What walked out of the warehouse, however, left Killer gaping in surprise: for a moment, he thought the RA Unmanned Combat Walkers had somehow chased him even to Heaven.

He soon realized it wasn't the case, anyway. The enormous robots walking out of the warehouse weren't even unmanned, to start with: they had a cockpit in the chest area, and the workers from earlier could be seen past the thick tinged windshield, driving the enormous machine by "wearing" the colossal mechanical limbs, that were powered by enormous hydraulic pistons and by electricity generated by several glowing magical white spheres of Heavenly crystal inserted into slots in the shoulders. In place of feet, the 40-feet tall machines had enormous triangular bases of thick steel, which cracked the ground with each heavy step of the mechanical, bent-forwards legs. The head was replaced by the curved arm of a powerful crane, the thick cables of which came from a huge, mighty engine mounted on the back of the machine. The robot had long, oversized arms, the right one ending not in a hand but in a fearsome, enormous chainsaw with a vicious crimson blade, made of Godblood. The other arm ended in a powerful vice, good for grabbing, - crushing - and screwing things.

"Well, now I do know how the hell this cave works." Killer observed mildly, before arching an eyebrow at Ira and quietly adding: "I somehow get the feeling that I won't use one of those machines to do my part of the work, though."

"You are receptive." Ira commented amusedly, patting his arm playfully before grinning widely. "No. For you this needs to be hard training, not daily, easy work. You'll have no chainsaw to cut the blocks of lodestone out of the mountain: you'll use your fists. And you won't use cranes to lift the blocks, but your arms."

"With all this crap on!" Killer spat incredulously, poking angrily at one of the torturous bracelets.

"Yeah." Ira replied easily, before crossing her arms and grinning up at him teasingly. "What? Scared? Not strong enough? I didn't think you were such a crybaby. I thought you were the kind of male who looks at that block of rock over there - Ira tilted her head towards the enormous block of lodestone that Killer had already noticed the night before - and wants to pull it up just to prove he can do it."

"I totally did want to do it, actually." Killer mumbled, coughing a bit, kind of embarrassed as he looked away for a moment.

"Lift this thing up...?" The bull worker asked, laughing loudly through the loudspeakers of his exoskeleton, as he lifted the huge foot of the machine up and brought it down atop the van-sized block of stone. "No way, unless you are Taranis, God of War."

"He will break his spine in half trying to budge that thing!" The elephant from earlier boomed, and they laughed before the other elephant guided his own exoskeleton to climb up atop the huge brick and stand above it.

Ira blushed a bit at this, turning towards Killer with an embarrassed gaze as she rubbed a hand down her arm awkwardly. "Look, I talked too much. Those assholes are annoying bastards... forget about the blocks, you'll try your hand at that after you've trained some. And I'll totally kick their asses out of their mouths if they don't shut up."

"What, scared...?" Killer asked playfully, grinning to Ira as he rolled his shoulders slowly, the Seraphim gaping at him a bit in surprise, staring stupidly up at him. "Taranis fears me, I've heard. I guess he must have his reasons to." The huge male observed leisurely, smiling slyly as he walked forwards calmly, approaching the block of stone.

Not smart. With how much a simple bracelet weights, there's no telling how much a block of that size must weight.

But damn me if I will turn away and let them laugh.

"How high do you want it...?" Killer asked, looking over his shoulder to Ira, who stared back stupidly for a moment before grinning widely, licking her lips slowly as a flash of both amazement and expectation made her eyes gleam.

"Over your head." She answered, her voice somehow suddenly hoarse with expectation, excitement pervading her in almost sexual way... and Killer grinned back, nodding.

If it gets her off so much... it means I'm in for something titanic for real.

The workers gathered around the block of stone, guiding their powerful exoskeletons towards it and forming almost a circle as they looked at Killer, the huge male liger walking up to the enormous piece of Lodestone calmly, and looking at it for e moment before tilting his head up, to gaze at the enormous robot standing atop it, the elephant inside the cockpit grinning down at him arrogantly.

"You are not going to step down from the frigging block, are you...?" Killer asked mildly, crossing his arms on his thick chest, and waiting.

The muscular elephant shook his head with a cocky grin, leaning forwards onto the thick levers of the control console of the machine. "No. Is it a problem...?"

"Not at all." Killer replied with a nod. "I'll just have to lift you and your machine up along with the stone."

"Yeah, like hell." The elephant laughed, imitated by the other workers all around in the circle, as Ira looked to the scene with a mix of expectation and nervousness, standing a few steps back.

Ira had no exact idea of the effective weight of the huge Lodestone block: but the density of that magic-impervious stone was such that it made it by far the heaviest known material in the universe. Even a tiny pearl of it could weight many tons, and the Lodestone was believed to be one of the materials to be found in the center of a Black Hole's mass. A block of those sizes, big as a pick-up track, weighted not in the hundreds, but in the thousands of tons. It literally was like lifting a warship up, and since the lodestone was nearly immune to any magic influence, there was no way to lift it by means of magic.

And definitely there was no one, save perhaps for the Gods and, to a degree, Vesta, who could have lifted that monstrous weight. Ira was dismayed by seeing Killer trying. She was nervous, and wanted him to stop. She feared he'd fail and hurt himself, and yet she wished for him to try, to succeed, and to prove his strength once more.

She hated the way the workers of the quarry laughed, arrogantly looking out of their powerful exoskeleton, which the Seraphims had designed with the very objective of creating an instrument that could cut and sculpture the black lodestone, and then lift the blocks up to do building work. Easy to laugh, for them: the machine did all the work, after all.

Put them all together, and they would not be able to lift up an inch one of the bracelets that Killer's wearing. Ira bit her lower lip nervously, crossing her strong arms, her eye twitching angrily as the workers made another arrogant call, and she finally snapped: "Shut the hell up you mor -"

Her angry shout was cut short as Killer's muscles bulged explosively, and the enormous stone block was moved, making the workers let out a loud yelp of surprise that was almost terror.

Killer felt his spine cracking, and he snarled, feeling like his arms would snap off from his shoulders as he bent down and forced his fingers down under the titanic block of stone, pulling it up a few inches, before letting out a roar of triumph and challenge as he pulled up with all of his monstrous physical power, his eyes flashing as he caught sight of the terror on the elephant's face as the exoskeleton atop the brick stumbled and almost fell over as Killer lifted up the uncountable tons of rock, steel, Godblood and idiotic worker into the air, until he pushed the massive black stone high up above his head, grinning widely even as he panted, muscles bulging like tires, pushing his veins out so much that it looked like his musculature would burst out of his skin and fur.

His feet sank into the ground with a loud crack, creaks spreading into the earth as the absurd weight forced the ground itself to revolt under such burden.

The workers, on their part, lapsed in a stunned, horrified silence, the whole of Heaven seeming to fall silent for a moment of astonishment as Ira looked at the huge male with a smile cresting her lips, a delicious feeling that she couldn't yet really understand shot through her form, before she grinned and laughed loudly, looking at each worker with a challenge flashing in her eyes as she pointed a finger at them and cackled loudly.

"Ah! Now try and do the same, you weak excuses for males!" She challenged, grinning widely as she added: "Easy to laugh when your whole point was that it takes a God like Taranis to lift that much weight. Ah!" She made a grimace of distaste, looking at them all with contempt. "You have nothing to do in this contest, bitches. Get the hell moving with the work, you've been playing around too much already!"

The workers looked at each other a bit, silent and horrified, and Killer grinned up towards the cockpits of the humongous exoskeletons as he held one of those and the whole, enormous block of lodestone high over his head. "Where should I put the pebble?"

The workers did not respond, and the exoskeleton he had lifted up jumped down from the block of stone, landing on its metallic, huge legs with a loud rumble of thunder, the massive feet of the machine sinking deep into the ground... but not as much as Killer's own feet had under the weight of the lodestone.

"Taranis is more than party tricks like this, Amon-Ra." The elephant in the cockpit hissed, before making a grimace as he pulled on the exoskeleton's commands and guided the machine away, followed by the other workers. "You are powerful. But the Gods will show you that true power is far greater than this."

"Get the hell out already!" Ira irritably snapped, and the exoskeletons sprinted away towards their work stations in the cave as the Seraphim walked up to Killer and gazed into his eyes with a gape of amazement.

Killer looked back into her beautiful emerald eyes for a long moment... and then he groaned: "Are they gone...? This thing is heavy!"

This startled Ira, who shook out of her amazed observation and looked past the powerful frame of the male for a brief moment. "Yes, they are gone. Put it down."

"Sweet." Killer grumbled, before throwing the block down... before wincing as he fell backwards on his ass as the ground was shaken by a violent earthquake, the gigantic stone cracking open a huge crater into the ground, sinking into the hard earth and common stone like an incandescent coin into butter, the rumble of the impact rolling over the forest like the roar of a giant.

Ira looked at him flatly for a moment, and he grinned stupidly up at her, before wincing again as a few huge trees noisily cracked apart and fell to the ground around the cave.

"You are godlike, Killer. But sweet hell, your brain is not." Ira muttered, even as she offered him a hand and hauled him to his feet as the male stumbled a bit still because of the burden of collar, belt and bracelets.

"Huh. Thank you." Killer mumbled embarrassedly, before looking off over the block of black stone, rubbing a hand down a huge, sore bicep which was bleeding a bit here and there where his skin had literally ripped with the bulging of his powerful musculature. "What the hell is this stuff, again...?"

Ira rolled her eyes upwards and sighed, but then explained: "Black Lodestone. Rock with an absurd level of density. It is the heaviest material known in the universe... the only thing we expect to be heavier is the nucleus of the Black Holes scattered in the Galaxy. The core of a supermassive black hole is a tiny planet made of matter at unimaginable levels of density, so that its gravity traps even light itself. Black Lodestone is incapable to create a black hole, of course... but it is the material that goes closer to the critical mass for creating one." She paused, then looked down at her feet, spotting a roughly marble-sized pebble of lodestone, and she lifted this up in her hand, showing it to Killer. "See? This thing is tiny. But it easily weights around 13000 pounds or more. Which is why I don't even want to guess the weight you've just lifted over your head before me."

"You found that hot, didn't you...?" Killer teased, grinning as he poked her muscular shoulder teasingly, and she coughed, a blush rising to her cheeks even as she quickly turned away, her hand closing over the pebble of lodestone until it cracked apart.

She sure does not lack strength herself. That's not your standard pebble... not that people normally cracks stone into dust that easily anyway.

"You are brash and reckless. You think with your dick more than with your brain... and turn everything regularly in a contest for who's got the biggest cock." The seraphim pointed out sourly, and Killer smiled a bit despite himself, nodding heavenly in agreement as he looked over her shoulder at him.

"I'm impulsive. But they totally were the ones dragging me into the contest this time." Killer specified, holding up a finger, and Ira rolled her eyes upwards before snorting: "You didn't exactly resist, you know!"

"I'd be a very different person if I avoided the confrontations and walked away from the challenges." Killer replied wisely. "I do not think I'd have people seeing the Amon-Ra of the prophecies in me if I was a shy little guy who always drew away from the fight."

Ira looked at him silently for a moment, emerald eyes staring into sapphire... before she mumbled: "But you could have failed. Hurt yourself... and they would have been the ones laughing and winning the contest, even though put all together they don't measure up to your thumb."

"You are cute, worrying for me like that." Killer teased, looking amused as he stroked a finger on her cheek, and Ira first blushed a bit, then stared at him for a moment, blinked, and snarled: "I'm not! The point is that I'm your mentor, and I don't want to look stupid just because you are big and dumb and get into trouble at every step!"

"You look even cuter with some red on your cheeks." Killer teased again, grinning widely, before wincing as Ira held a hand up, eyes narrowing and flashing as a ball of white-hot fire appeared in her palm, before she slammed it into his chest.

It exploded, throwing flames all around and burning into his flesh as it sent him crashing backwards onto the ground with his thick breast smoldering, the huge male groaning in a mix of pain and surprise.

"Fun-killer." Killer grunted, rubbing a hand over his sore, burnt chest, before slowly standing up as Ira crossed her arms with a snort, looking sour as she muttered something under her breath.

"Stop messing around, and get working. You should already be training." The seraphim finally ordered, motioning for him to follow her as she walked towards the black stump of money, where the exoskeletons had started their job.

Killer looked at this with interest as they drew closer, the noise unbelievable as the chainsaws of Godblood mounted on the arm of each of the robots bit into the lodestone, struggling to cut into the hyper-density material, sinking slowly into the mountain, inch after inch, as dust and small slivers and fragments of lodestone were thrown out of the cuts, raining down to the ground 30 feet below, where the lodestone fragments ripped small craters in the earth with their ungodly weight.

The powerful cranes mounted in place of the robots' heads had already been connected to the blocks, even before the cutting started, and enormous chains of Godblood were ready to keep the enormous blocks aloft as soon as they came free from the mountain... and when it first happened under Killer's eyes, he winced as the Exoskeleton nearly toppled over, the tree-sized pistons in the mechanical legs hissing as the machine bent forwards under the weight, the many bowling-ball sized spheres of magical crystal fit into the joints of the robot's body glowing with energy as they sustained the godlike effort, the chains stretched and tensed almost to breaking point as the huge monolithic block swayed back and forth a bit before being quickly steadied by an expert move of the driver, which exploited the vice-hand of the exoskeleton's arm to stop the oscillations of the enormous stone.

"Here, lord Killer. The company isn't great..." Ira started seraphically, crossing her strong arms on her chest and grinning as the workers looked at her irritably. "... but there can be no better physical training for you than this work. If there's something in the universe which can still give you a workout, is the Lodestone."

Killer looked at her quietly, one hand stroking the side of the mountain slowly... before he asked: "What exactly am I supposed to do...?"

"Rip blocks of stone out of the mountain and give them the right shape, of course." The Seraphim replied heavenly, nodding wisely, before staring at him for a moment as he looked at her flatly, until she nodded firmly and confirmed: "With your hands, of course. That's the whole point of it."

Killer groaned, making a bit of a face and rubbing a hand into his mane slowly as he eyed the mountain-stump of black stone, remembering how he had punched small holes and handholds into the very same kind of rock the night before to climb up to Eaglenest. He knew he could do it... but he also knew it was going to be a masochist, horrible task to accomplish. Doing it with normal rock already was demented. Doing it with Lodestone... his hands felt sore just at the thought. He looked up to Ira's emerald eyes, and she gazed back firmly, even though once or twice she seemed on the point of looking down, embarrassed. She was not joking, though.

"I hate you." The huge male grumbled sourly, but he grabbed nonetheless the edge of the neatly-cut face of the mountain and easily hefted himself on top of the stump, looking down at the stone with a sigh as he looked out for cracks to exploit. But there were none: the absurd density of the material made it harder than titanium, smoother than glass, and totally compact. A nightmare, in other words.

Ira looked up at him quietly, and for a moment he felt like he had seen an apology in her gaze... before she nodded to invite him to start, and he let out a growl before lashing down the cut of his hand like a blade, gritting his fangs as he hit the stone.

Blood spurted up from his hand, his eyes shutting in pain as he strangled a growl in his throat... but the rock had the worst end of the deal, noisily cracking apart as a straight, surgical cut line appeared in the surface, going many feet deep into the mountain.

Ira looked at this with a small gape, wincing to herself as Killer lashed out another blow, and then another, even as his hand implored mercy, blood spraying from it and staining the black stone as he gritted his fangs, refusing to let out a single sound of pain with the workers close and at ear-distance even as he rough-hewed a new gigantic block of stone, far faster than the exoskeletons could with their powerful Godblood chainsaws.

Ira hated herself for what she had to force him to do. Her eyes never left him for the whole time, as she stood nearly, arms crossed on her chest, biting at her lower lip more often than not, yet trying to hide it. Her fingers squeezed into her strong biceps almost viciously, claws biting into her own scales when his hand smashed into the stone and she heard a bone breaking, drops of blood flying into the air... But he didn't stop, and ripped another block out of the mountain, before dragging it on his shoulders, to carry it through the field and to the growing row of blocks ready for use. There was no way to pile them up one over the other without them literally sinking into the ground like it was water, after all... so that the blocks were stored in a long row instead, laying on Godblood rails, the only thing that could bear the weight.

And the row that day grew longer than usual, far more rapidly than usual: but most of the blocks lined up were stained with blood.

It went on for hours. Ira thought about saying something at least once every minute, but never did find the words. Everything felt stupid and unworthy to be said.

Killer, on his part, soon felt like his hands had been crushed under a heavy-load truck. Bone after bone, his fingers fell apart. Blood painted his hands red and dripped down onto the stone, streaking in rivulets down his forearms and dribbling from his elbows, from uncountable wounds that he couldn't even make out, as the blood hid them. He did not have hands anymore. He had agony given a physic form. But he did not stop working, even when he started wondering with what exactly he was breaking the stone. His hands were maimed, and his blows grew weaker with the time and the increasing damage. So, to break a block he had to deliver tens of blows instead of four, and the damage just got worse, as did the agony.

Noon arrived after a time that felt as long as a whole era. A red streak of blood traced a road into the snow, by now, from the mountain's flank to the row of blocks ready to be used: it was all blood he had lost carrying the blocks away after chiseling them.

Each time he wobbled towards the rails with the gigantic, crushing weight of a block bending his spine forwards, his strong body, not tamed, worked eagerly to heal the damage in his hands, regenerating them with a speed that left even him speechless. He had always been a fast healer, and in the years he had only got even faster and better at piecing himself back up from damage... but he had never experienced something like that. He could feel his bones grow back in place into his fingers. Quickly. And the wounds would close themselves up at such speed that he could see them healing by staring at them.

It was reassuring.

But not comfortable. Very possibly, it made it all worse. Regrowing bones was a torture by itself, and anyway, soon Killer was back smashing stone with his fists, and the just-regenerated flesh and bone was maimed all over again, in a never ending cycle of agony.

Finally, as he was walking back towards the mountain after putting down on the rails the latest block he had prepared, Ira stepped in and lightly touched his huge bicep with her fingers, hesitating for a moment when he turned to look at her curiously.

"Don't think... never... not even for a moment... that I like doing this to you." Ira said quietly, looking at him almost pleadingly, and Killer stared back into her emerald eyes calmly, before smiling a bit as he saw her concern and sincere sorrow.

"You are doing your work of Mentor. And I will do what my role of pupil requires. We both know this is necessary." Killer said quietly, half-rising a hand to touch her cheek, before dropping it with a sigh as he felt an explosion of pain in it and remembered in which state his fingers were. Ira did not miss the move, and her eyes went down to his bloody hand, the muscular cobra staring at it for a long moment, cringing inside.

Even so, she did not stop him. His determination and will force impressed her... and he was right. It had to be done, no matter how horrible it was.

The whole morning passed, and Killer found himself trying to convince himself that it wasn't so bad. That the pain was fading, that he was getting used to it... but it did not work. It was and remained wishful thinking. The workers did nothing to help him, but on the other hand they proved very eager of making his work even more miserable: at first, they had taken turns at bringing their machines close to where Killer was working, so that the gigantic Godblood chainsaw of their exoskeleton would, at turn, enjoy the experience of spraying the liger with slivers, fragments and pebbles of lodestone thrown away by the blade.

It made Killer's blood boil with murderous rage, but he felt Ira's eyes on his back the whole time, and imposed to himself to stay calm and ignore them... Until eventually, once it became evident that the workers were doing it on purpose and taking great enjoyment from it, Ira herself stepped in, climbed up the exoskeleton at hand, ripped the cockpit open and grabbed the bull operating it by the horns, pulling his face ferociously forwards as she slammed her knee into his muzzle several times over.

Finally, she had snarled in distaste and thrown the bloody, bulky male out of the cockpit, sending him crashing in a heap tens of feet below.

The cobra then had turned around, faced the other workers and glared at their shocked faces with an untold promise of disaster if they dared interfere again with the training. She snorted, standing up on the edge of the cockpit, and then easily leapt down, landing with her feet onto the spine of the groaning bull beneath, drawing a scream from him, before the Seraphim walked off him, stomping on his head firmly with a foot, and reached the very same spot she has been earlier standing in, crossing her powerful arms back on her chest like nothing had happened.

They did get the message. They had dared too far... and Ira was something they could definitely not grapple with. So they behaved spectacularly afterwards... save for a block of lodestone that, officially, had fallen incidentally from the chains holding it up, forcing Killer to leap out of the way to avoid being flattened. A bit suspect to be an incident, but Ira did not rip them apart, and that was they wanted.

At noon, the workers dismounted from their exoskeletons, and Killer paused for an instant to look up at them, curiously, just to meet the vicious grin of the elephant, who looked at him with sick enjoyment, eyes flashing with the delight of some kind of new mischievous idea. The others did not look as much enthralled, and Killer saw several sneaked, worried gazes touching Ira's beautiful body... But the bull was not enough scared to have the good sense of avoiding doing something stupid.

Which means something bad for me...

"The little bastard is thinking about doing something else stupid. I probably wasn't clear enough." Ira observed calmly, making Killer look up and turn to her in surprise. She hadn't even glanced towards the workers, and she was patiently standing where she had been the whole time, her eyes closed.

She opened them after a moment, meeting his own, and smiled, before shaking her head a bit. "Dumbasses."

"They definitely have something in mind." Killer replied calmly, turning back to his infamous work even as every bone in his body begged and shrieked for him to stop... But he kept one eye on the workers, and saw the bull walk away from the group and create a portal, in which he quickly vanished.

"They do." Ira said agreeably, nodding slightly... but then she added firmly: "They won't attack us. You might have your hands maimed, but you could still kick their asses into orbit if needed... and they definitely won't want to have to meddle with me." She paused, then immediately added, as Killer opened his mouth to make an observation: "And no. I don't think he's gone calling reinforces. It would be terribly stupid of him, Lord Wyvern... because I could snap my fingers and have the whole garrison of the Monastery diving down here to help us." She paused again, and then grinned, licking her lips a bit in a way that was surprisingly Alexis-like. "If it ever was necessary."

Killer grunted in some sort of agreement which was also a masked groan of agony as he punched the mountain once more, feeling not just sore but stupid as well... before he added: "You should be right. But then again, stupid people are the most common thing in the universe. We'll soon see what he's gone doing, I guess."

And indeed, minutes later Killer found out. Ira was right: the workers did not attack, nor did they bring in reinforces, but the bull re-emerged from the portal carrying a giant basket filled with all sorts of delicious food, and the whole group of workers sat down over the trunk of a fallen tree behind Ira's shoulders, at a safe distance from her, but in perfect position to be seen by Killer all the time, no matter how much he tried to avoid eye contact as he continued to work.

And as they started to laugh, devouring huge amounts of food of all sorts, grinning teasingly and waving at him and showing their richness to him as he floated in his blood and misery, Killer did realize how much he craved something good to stuff his mouth with. It wasn't real hunger... in Heaven hunger was unknown, and there was no real need to eat at all. But the desire of eating, the joy of something good tasting to bite, was just as strong. And Killer, who definitely wasn't used to Heaven and its workings after so little time spent in it, felt his stomach clench in protest and envy with every bite the irritant pricks took before his eyes.

Ira did not immediately get the point. She merely gave an unfazed gaze at them over her muscular shoulder, made a bit of a face as her eyes spoke of her obvious disapproval, but that was it.

"Better than I thought. He just went wasting his money on food."

Killer groaned at that, and looked to the Seraphim for a moment, deciding if he should tell her or not, and feeling like a little kid walking to the teacher to denounce that the other kids had been pulling his leg. But as Ira tilted her head to the side and looked at him questioningly, he sighed and explained: "Close enough... but their point is to eat a lot of good stuff and make me hungry, more than satiate their own appetite."

"Yeah, you are probably right." Ira agreed heavenly, looking over her shoulder at them briefly. "And does their trick work...?"

Killer closed his eyes and tried to tell himself that it didn't... but as his stomach nudged him again, hard, he half-sighed, half-snorted and replied sourly: "It works surprisingly well."

The Seraphim looked surprised by it, blinking once before frowning and observing: "No one in Heaven needs to eat. You can't be hungry either, as no one is."

"I know." Killer replied tiredly. "But my stomach does not. It is not that I'm hungry, or that I really need food that badly. I'm used not to eat, even for long, long periods of time... hell, I did it countless time on the battlefields, in years of war." Years... sounds impressive said to a fellow mortal. Yet I'm learning that I'm nothing compared to warriors like Ira. I may be a consumed veteran in mortal terms, but Seraphims have seen Eons of fighting, wars and conflicts.

"But you still wish you could eat, huh...?" Ira asked gently, giving him a supportive smile. "Yes, I guess I can... try to understand, at least. I've been an immortal from birth, I never really did know real hunger, yet I used to love eating when I was a kid. For you it must be hard... but be patient. Hunger is a state of mind, before it is a physical requirement. And even more so here in Heaven, or down in Hell. As all states of mind, hunger can be conquered, dominated and controlled. Learn to ignore it, and shut the envy out of your mind too, as your current hunger is not craving for food, but envy of their pleasure."

Killer paused a moment in his work, and smiled slightly down at Ira, looking at the black-scaled, beautiful cobra female with amusement, before he nodded wisely. "People's biggest happiness often is not on their fortune, but on the bad luck of others, isn't it...?"

"It is." Ira replied agreeably, smiling back, before he finished to shape the latest block, delivering the last agonizing blows and sending more dust and fragments of lodestone onto the snow on the ground, before he prepared to lift the monstrous boulder as he had done with many others before.

Ira this time stopped him, however, touching his arm gently. "For today, this will be it with quarry work. You've shown a physical power, an endurance and a resistance to the pain that goes well past our most optimistic expectations."

Killer was about to take a deep, long breath of relief, but the guilty shadow of hesitation in her eyes did suffocate the breath viciously, replacing relief with worry as he gazed into her eyes and asked tiredly: "What have I to do now...?"

The Seraphim smiled a bit, in a sort of apologize, awkward but sincere, even as she picked up a massive chain of Godblood from the floor and wrapped it around the middle of the huge obsidian block of stone, her muscles bulging with power as she easily maneuvered the horribly-heavy chain and secured it with a solid knot and a joint element also of thick, nearly-indestructible Godblood.

Killer stared at the whole operation silently, not liking at all the possible implications of the chain... and feeling something inside his body sink as Ira walked back to him with the other extremity of the chain in her hands.

"Sorry, Lord Killer, but the real training is not so much ripping the stone out of the mountain... but bring it on top of the Monolith." Ira explained quietly, before walking to his back and reaching up to slide the thick, enormous chain into a purposefully-designed hook of the collar of lodestone he was wearing. Killer closed his eyes with a silent curse, feeling the horror rising inside him even as he obediently bent his head forwards, allowing the cobra's strong hands to secure the chain swiftly.

It was a short chain, and just to straighten back up when she was done, Killer's neck had to lift an extremity of the enormous block by a few inches, the chain snapping into tension like the chord of a violin, giggling metallically as the huge male's potent muscles bulged explosively, veins pushing outwards as his musculature flexed and bulged painfully, seeming on the point of bursting out of his skin and fur, his spine creaking noisily.

It left him panting, sweat rolling down his chest and pearls of his fatigue dripping from the bangs of his mane, mighty arms trembling a bit... but again, he did not complain, he did not wobble, he did not tried to step back out of it. He looked firmly into Ira's eyes as she gazed at him with respect and concern at once.

"I want you to know. This is a godlike feat... only the strongest of Gods, such as Sekhmet, Taranis and Lemuel have exercised their strength in this way, facing this challenge. You'll have to reach the Monastery climbing the Monolith again, like you did last night... but with a warship viciously tied around your neck with a chain. Don't overdo it, don't kill yourself trying to impress me." She paused, then smiled and caressed his check gently, moving a bang of sweaty white mane out of his eye. "Simply put, don't try to prove that you've got the biggest dick as you always do. Do things with prudence and brain, for once." There was no teasing in her words, but sincere concern and... yes. Affection, he thought. She was still hiding it, but he could feel it.

He couldn't help but grin, looking amused as he replied: "But I DO have the biggest dick."

Ira rolled her eyes upwards and snorted, but she was smiling herself, and she gave his thick, huge bicep a gentle squeeze as she added: "If you lose the grip and fall down the mountain, shout my name. I'll be to you immediately to save your dumb ass ."

"I'll keep it in mind, you can bet." Killer replied easily, nodding firmly. Not going to forget that, for sure. "What will I be asked to do, by the way, once I get up the mountain...? Because by the scale of the challenges you put up, next thing I'll have to do will be moving the whole mountain and the monastery on top of it in another place using my dick alone or something."

"Stop putting your cock into each sentence." Ira snorted, before smiling as she shook her head quietly. "It is quite late into the afternoon already... I doubt you'll make it on top before late tonight at best, Lord Killer. But anyway, even if you were to absurdly amaze me once more and make it..." She gazed at him as he grinned widely, a grin cresting her own lips as well. "... we still will do the same thing: I'll be teaching you some more magic and other useful info about Heaven, Gods, Demons and everything. Because your strength might be incredible, but on your mind I can already tell we'll have to work real hard."

"Oh gods." Killer groaned, making a face at the thought of the enormous, dusty books waiting for him on top of the mountain. "When will I enjoy a leave? I've got a bunch of virgins to take care of before they waste their cherry giving it to someone unworthy." He teasingly asked, grinning widely as Ira gaped stupidly for a moment before turning deep red as she gazed around them from side to side and finally hissed: "Don't ever say that! They are priestesses, and you can't really be that crazy!" She paused, then sighed before his 'you think so?' grin, and shrugged, grinning a bit herself as she firmly made him know that there was no leave at all on the horizon, for a loooong time.

That did kill his grin a bit.

Ira wished him good luck, then easily opened a portal and stepped through it, on the way to her little house inside the monastery... and Killer took a deep breath before beginning his miserable, torturous new mission.

He looked around himself for a moment, relaxing a bit after the hellish morning he had had to survive, and nearly looked down at his hands, before deciding that he did not need to. The pain he felt was enough to let him know in which pathetic state they were.

His moment of relax finished abruptly when his gaze met on its way the hostile glares of the workers, who had finished their rich lunch and were now staring at him with hate.

Why do I have such talent at being hated...? I don't even know their names and they already want me dead...

Killer snorted, making a grimace before looking up at the Monolith, its top as always hidden by the clouds... and he let out a long, drawn-out sigh as he thought about the free-climbing he was going to face. The first time had been hard... but at least he hadn't a warship tied to his neck, then.

The mission proved miserable from the very start, as even just crossing the snowy field to reach the bottom of the black mountain was a fierce struggle. The workers did not help him at all, as without Ira around, they gathered up all their courage and danced around him giving him their "encouragements".

Killer did his best to keep his rage under control, much as his hate for them grew to such levels that he had to wonder how the hell they could survive around him without being burned to ashes or something... but when the goddamn bull who had gone and gotten the food earlier did all but jump onto the lodestone block and lay down on top of it as the liger broke his spine to drag it along, patience ended.

Unfortunately, the bull was not as stupid as he looked, and as soon as Killer began to turn backwards, he leapt away cackling and he and all of his companions quickly ran away like gazelles, getting back to the quarry and into their exoskeletons, leaving Killer snarling to himself in frustration.

But of course, the worst part by far was the climbing. As soon as he began to climb up the vertical wall of rock and reached an height sufficient for the chain to enter in tension because of the immense block of stone acting as anchor, Killer let out a groan of agony, eyes bulging as the collar of lodestone tied around his neck bit into his throat like a rusty, blunt blade. It didn't cut, but, far worse, scratched, ripped, scraped away the flesh from his neck, crushing his airways in a horrible way. He had been trained against waterboarding torture, and even against strangling, and the feeling of sudden, total loss of breath did not come as new to him... but it came equally unpleasant. Luckily, he did not really need to breathe, being in Heaven: he had no need for air to survive, but that did not made it any easier to calm down his survival instinct, which began struggling and screaming inside him as soon as the collar started to suffocate him and rip his throat apart.

It was horrible, as every time he moved an arm off the mountain to grab a rock a little bit higher and pull himself up, the monstrous weight of the stone hanging from the back of his neck pulled him downwards savagely, ripping even more viciously into his neck and trying to make him fall into the nothingness to crash on the ground, miles beneath. It seriously felt like the collar would decapitate him before he could climb to the top of the mountain, and do so in a slow, torturous way, scraping flesh and skin away slowly and sadistically, blood streaking down his chest and down the obsidian collar itself.

At least, Killer's hands regenerated quickly now that he didn't have to rough-hew blocks of stone with his bare fingers, and it was a desperately necessary luck because, without bones in his digits, he had no way to climb to the top of the mountain.

It took hours, and it was night by at least three hours when he finally grabbed the edge of the platform that Ira had told him to search for: basically, it was a terrace of Godblood built at the base of the Monastery's wall for the pure purpose of receiving the blocks of lodestone from the quarry in the plain.

Killer grunted, exhausted, when his forearm menaced to slid down the edge of the platform as he was left hanging from it for a moment, the damn block of lodestone swaying like a pendulum in the air and only adding to his agony as it made the scraping and tearing at his neck even worse. By that point, the collar had pierced into his throat almost as far to his vocal cords, menacing to tear even those and make him completely mute.

He heard hurried steps on the platform, however, and a moment later two strong, black-scaled feminine hands grabbed his forearm with such a formidable strength to make him grunt again: he tried to comment, but he could make no word between the pain, the blood leaking out of his devastated neck and the ice that had formed on his lips, face and wounds from frozen-over sweat and even blood. Crossing the clouds was always deadly in terms of extreme cold.

Ira's face looking down at him from over the edge of the platform was, anyway, the best thing he could think of, save for the impossible scenario in which Alexis was the one helping him up... But he tried not to think about that, the pain already more than sufficient without adding to it.

"You made it, and in record time!" Ira announced, grabbing him at the wrist and near the elbow, pulling him up with all of her great strength, muscles bulging with power as she gritted her fangs, and Killer couldn't help but look upwards from his vantage point, at her long, strong and seductive legs, up to her powerful, rippling abdominals, and higher up to the underside of her proud, enormous boobs.

"Stop doing that, or I throw you back down and make you climb all the way back up." The Seraphim said sourly, but her lips couldn't help cresting in a slight smile that he did not miss.

"You... would... not." Killer hoarsely managed to babble, as he threw his other arm up onto the platform as well, finally managing to pull up with all of his tremendous physical power, biceps bulging explosively... and he finally collapsed forwards on his potent chest, panting in exhaustion, when he managed to climb inside, even as he made a last, supreme effort to lift up the lodestone block as well, twisting the chain around his thick forearm and pulling up with Ira's valid help, even as she snorted: "Don't bet on that."

The block finally came up on the platform, and Ira reached up for the chain, removing it from Killer's collar, the male closing his eyes with a deep sigh of relief as the torturous weight was removed, his neck finally getting some relief as he tiredly looked up at the Seraphim, who threw the chain on the floor unceremoniously, eager to free him.

"Thanks." Killer said after a moment, smiling up to her... and Ira smiled back with a little nod, before rubbing a hand down her bulging bicep, looking uncertain about what to do, until she kicked him lightly in the shoulder.

"Stand the fuck up now, though. The night is running away fast, and you need to study."

"I need to sleep, actually." Killer countered flatly, holding a finger up pointedly, but Ira only crossed her arms with a flat look down at him, tapping her fingers impatiently on her strong biceps.

Killer sighed, but quickly pushed himself up as if he was doing pushups... before trying to jump up to his feet, but remembering all of a sudden that he was still wearing a full kit of collars, manacles and ankle-rings of lodestone when his spine painfully creaked. He stood up slowly and carefully, letting out a grunt of paint as he finally straightened and put his hands at his hips, cracking his back with a flex and cracking his neck twice.

"Can you believe it...? Having that monstrosity tied at my neck made me forget entirely about the bracelets. They feel like paradise compared to that damn rock." Killer said, glaring at the huge block of stone he had - somehow - managed to bring all the way up, before following Ira up from the platform and onto the Monastery's fortified outer wall.

"Well, the bracelets are heavy... but a lodestone block that big is certainly a whole different league." Ira agreed calmly, even as she quickly leaded him onto the gardens.

Killer gazed at this in surprise, looking around himself a bit and wondering about the weird, never-before-seen and often beautiful flowers and even carnivorous plants scattered all over the garden. It was a nice surprise, overall... the garden was a beautiful place, and Killer felt at ease in the shady mini-forest it made up. And since his neck and throat were finally beginning to heal and regenerated, his mood improved a good bit, and wasn't shaken even by the sight of the titanic books waiting for him on the grass, under the shadow of a weeping willow of indescribable beauty: it had to be hundreds of years old, judging from the gigantic, twisted trunk... and its branches touched the ground all around it, making up a green dome of peace that was as wide as a square.

Ira sat down on the grass quietly, legs crossed, and waited for him to sit down before her as well, the male looking up to the tall, huge branches of the tree, fascinated, before the Seraphim said: "I thought you'd appreciate this place... my house would have provided you the quiet needed for the studying, but probably not the peace. This place, instead, can calm down almost any soul... in almost all moments of life, even the hardest."

Killer nodded, smiling a bit as he felt it in the air, a cold breeze moving the long branches around them with a soft rustle. "It does... I get the impression that many a time you did sit down here, to rest and recover from the... injustices of life. Am I wrong...?" Killer asked quietly, looking at her with affection.

But Ira wasn't ready for his help. Once more, she did look taken aback by his observation, and she did hesitate for a moment before firmly replying: "There's no need to discuss of me. We are here because you need to study, and possibly learn, if you can manage that at all."

"I try my best." Killer replied amusedly, smiling a bit, picking up the by now familiar, enormous Compendium of Magic that he had been reading for the whole of the previous night as well. Ira looked with interest at his hands as he did so, and finally gently took one in hers, studying it.

"You've regenerated almost completely, already." She observed, gazing into his eyes with interest. "Another sector in which you're faring better than we expected you would. In just one day, you've massively improved, in physical power and healing capacity alike. It is a very impressive development, Lord Killer..."

"It is." The huge male sincerely recognized, nodding a bit. "Never before had I healed so fast and so well... and certainly not from such level of damage."

Ira gave a little sound realization, then nodded wisely, smiling a bit. "That is a good sign. You can expect your regeneration to improve further as your training progresses... and we'll see how far you go. No one knows yet what exactly you are, Lord Killer. But my opinion, that many do share, is that you can vaunt full godhood... you are no demon, no angel... and there's who says you are... the first of a whole new race of Gods. Something new, that has never before seen, and not even imagined."

"Or I might just be a monster." Killer observed quietly, looking down at the thick leather-cover of the book he was now keeping in his lap. "I know all here in Heaven have a good idea of the darkness that I hide inside me... and for what I know of it, it is a fearsome abomination."

Ira looked at him for a long moment, her lips cresting in a little supportive smile, before she quietly observed: "I've had my experience, Lord Killer... and I've grown to believe that no one is born a monster. You can be born with more or less darkness inside yourself, and live one life that makes it grow darker or that dissipates the pain and replaces it with light." She sighed, then smiled gently as she looked at him with hints of amusement, like she... she could really understand his inner conflict, his fear of himself. Like she's lived it before me... "We can be born demons or angels, mortals or immortals... but we aren't born as monsters. Sure, some are born with greater probabilities to give in to temptation and become terrible abominations, but we all have the chance to make a decision of what is to be of our life. Remember what we said about destiny and prophecies...? Well, it is the same thing. We are what we decide to be, and it all comes down to having the courage and will to do what's Right... or fail at it and do what's easy, or worse what appeals our worst lusts." Ira paused, and for a moment there was silence between them, before she added quietly: "I do not see a monster before me, Lord Killer. I see someone who had the bad luck of being born with a deep, fearsome pit of darkness inside... someone who has great probabilities of being prey of his own darkness... But someone that despite all is fighting to do what's Right, to the end, no matter how painful it is, no matter how much blood and pain and horrors it costs him. And that's more than admirable... it is the most godlike thing about him."

Killer looked at her in surprise, then smiled, touched deeply by her words, and feeling... like he really had a choice, had he not...? "Thanks, Ira."

"No worries." The Seraphim replied easily, before grinning a bit as she added: "We'll have to deal with your darkness problem together, and we will. But now you should stop wasting time and study."

Killer's shoulders slumped a bit, and he made a pleading face, but that had no effect at all... and he did instead hesitatingly ask: "Before we start... could you tell me what has been going on in the day around Heaven...? And... you know. Maybe tell me about Alexis, too...?"

"You miss her terribly, don't you...?" Ira asked quietly, before sighing deeply and nodding a bit, giving him a smile. "But fine. I'll have you know... Alexis is being trained at the Sun Monastery, in the Sixth Heaven, and already after a day she's proven to learn a lot better than you. So you'll better get your lazy ass moving."

Killer snorted, grinning playfully as he crossed his huge arms on his chest. "That's no surprise. I was the one who warned you all that she'd learn anything you'd throw at her, and in record time."

"True." Ira replied agreeably, before looking at him for a moment, gazing at his face with interest and curiosity, until she observed: "But this is not quite enough, is it...? You want to know how the war is going, where Vesta is, and how things are developing."

"I'd be glad to know it, yes. Back home, I'm the one that takes all the decisions... it is quite a shock having no grasp at all on what happens, now. A complete change for me." Killer said, resting back a bit against the trunk of the massive tree.

"You must always have control, huh...?" Ira teasingly asked, grinning. "But fine, I guess I can tell you. There's been a major series of clashes at the Wall and a battle in the wastelands. A lot of Seraphims have been deployed... included the ones you have... known in the showers." The cobra said, and Killer coughed a bit into a fist, looking embarrassed and looking away innocently. But he turned fully serious as he caught the disappointed tone in her voice as she added: "All called in, except me."

"I'm sorry, Ira... it is my fault, I guess." Killer said apologetically, touching her shoulder gently... but the black-scaled female gave him an enigmatic grin as she replied: "Really? I wouldn't be so sure." She shrugged, looking down at the ground for a moment, looking more than a tad sour and disappointed, which made Killer wonder, for the hundredth time, what secrets the seraphim had to hide... Before she looked up and added flatly: "Don't expect Vesta or Diana to show up anytime soon, either. With the worsening situation at the front, they are both terribly busy... and they have exposed themselves too much, too. The Gods have already taken their measures to keep them away from you as much as possible."

"Oh, crap." Killer groaned, before making a grimace. "My frigging fault, once more... I should have prevented them from getting into trouble just to -"

"To help you?" Ira asked, looking at him flatly. "You cannot prevent a friend from running into trouble to save and help you. They are well aware of the risks... but the worst thing you could do would be to keep them away from you. That is the only thing that would hurt them, no matter how good your intentions."

Killer blinked, looking at the Seraphim in surprise... and then looking down in shame, knowing full well that she was right. Diana would have been devastated by any attempt of keeping her at safe distance. Even doing so in order to save her trouble, dangers and pain... it would have made her feel like she was being abandoned and turned down. And I already did that once. I won't betray her again...

"And as to Vesta, you can't exactly stop her, Lord Killer." Ira added playfully, grinning a bit, and Killer grinned back after a moment, since she was right. There was no stopping Vesta. He might have been the one she called Master, but at least for some time still, or maybe forever, her power would have been something he could only dream to match... and her stubbornness was even more invincible. Killer had spent little time with her... but even that little had made it clear that Vesta did not resemble Alexis only in body and beauty, after all.

"Even without the gods opposing their presence here, anyway, they'd be real busy. Vesta's power is constantly required on the frontline lately... the Wall has been attacked by a massive army of demons and Middle Sea's monsters, all lead by a Bull King." Ira explained calmly, absent-mindedly drawing one of her Katana swords out of the holsters crossed on her back so that she could idly ran the claw of her index down the runes and graves carved in the flat of the thin, long and agile blade.

"Bull King...?" Killer asked curiously, even as his eyes looked at the dancing white glow the long Katana incessantly gave off.

"Oh, sure... you don't know what that is. Well, consider this part of your lessons. Bull Kings are rare. Almost as much as Hybrid Incarnations like you, indeed... there are... no more than 9 or 10 Bull Kings in Hell, after all, if I remember correctly." Ira mused for a moment, and then nodded wisely. "You've some experience of Gigataurs yourself, and you well know how strong they are."

Killer nodded, making a grimace. Just the day before, a particularly huge Gigataur had almost flattened him underfoot. Gigataurs were monstrous minotaur demons, greatly evolved, developed through long years of corruption baths that strengthened their power and demonic essence, torture that increased their rage, and training and rituals that made them stronger and bigger. Gigataurs could grow to well over 60 feet tall in some cases, and sported cruel fangs, enormous horns and jagged teeth, with fangs worth of a sabertooth tiger, and not of a bull. They were creatures of immense physical power, covered in monstrous, bulging muscle... and they made up for Hell's equivalent of heavy battle tanks. They were titanic infantry, meant to crush the enemy resistance literally under their hooves.

Ira grinned a bit at his grimace, and nodded amusedly. "Exactly. Gigataurs are no good... and the Bull King is far worse. It is a rare deviant of the species, and gets far, far more powerful than any army of Gigataurs could ever hope to be. A Bull King is a gigantic monster... even if most of the time they do size themselves down and look more like average Minotaurs than anything else. With how long it takes for a demon to turn into a Bull King, there's never more than ten or so in all of Hell in any given period... and most of those ten are around from very ancient times. They serve as Generals under the highest monarchs of Hell or are demon lords in their own right, always lusting for more power or control."

"Not something that everyone can confront." Killer observed wisely, and Ira nodded.

"Vesta is one of very few warriors that Heaven can field that can match that kind of power, so she's in high demand. She's called out to any and all corners of Heaven these days... somehow, the demons manage to open Cracks that allow them to pop up past the Wall, in the Meadows, and even in the inner Heavens. Everywhere the game gets really hard, Vesta is one of those that get called in."

"So the Wall... has effectively been overcome...?" Killer asked with interest, easily realizing the implications of the problem, and impressed by the feat: he had seen the Wall and its fortifications, and knew full well that it wasn't a simple palisade.

"Partially. Cracks open here and there all over Heaven, just like on the Mortal Plane. They are... violent attacks, but suicidal for the most part. They cause a lot of trouble and damage, but the Cracks cannot be held open long enough to become a real problem... relatively small armies get through, rampage until they can, often take over a town and try to make it into a fortress from which they can launch further raids... but they are cut off from Hell, and so we are always able to crush them at some point. It is... about attrition more than anything else, for now."

"Doesn't make it any better though, does it...?" Killer asked wisely, looking down at the green, luscious grass before gazing upwards to Ira's eyes. "Heaven has a few formidable warriors... and a small army. Hell has immense armies to expend almost without a thought about it, since they are all easily replaced, and has also got a great number of creatures and demons of immense power. In other words..."

"Numbers in the end will win, yes." Ira completed the phrase for him, before smiling a bit to the huge male. "But that's why there's an Amon-Ra anyway."

"You make it sound like I'm a Deus ex Machina solution, popping up from the nothingness and fixing everything up. I might become the greatest problem of all, instead... or simply fail." Killer replied mildly, caressing the grass with the palm of a huge hand as the wind made it move back and forth like the waves of the sea.

"No, if you think well about it. You won't pop up from the nothingness, but be shaped by your battles, your experience, and the training that you have to endure." Ira replied easily. "And after just one day, I feel I can already say two things about you: first of all, you are a jerk." She looked at him with amusement, grinning a bit and nodding. "But second, you are also gifted with an incredible will force. You've decided that you have to be a savior, and you are ready to do everything it takes, and I see in you the determination to go on fighting to the very end of the universe if necessary. If there's someone who can fix things... well, I believe that's you."

Killer smiled to her gratefully, and Ira looked back at him with sympathy. Things were already improving a lot between them, considering that she hadn't been too thrilled when they had first met, not even two full days before. The cobra smiled a bit, then turned her gaze back down to her blade, silent for a moment... before sighing a bit and adding: "They do not want me to tell you, but you must be informed, so they can go to hell. You are in danger."

"That's nothing new. I always am." Killer replied calmly, but his interest grew evident in his features, even as Ira rolled her eyes upwards at his antics.

"Lately the demons have not been the sole problem... Sobek and Anubis have been causing worse trouble." Ira explained calmly, and Killer blinked before asking hesitatingly: "That Anubis...? The God of Death...?"

Ira snorted amusedly, shaking her head a bit and giving a little grin. "Lesson two of tonight. Anubis is a God, but far less powerful than a lot of you Mortals do believe. And he never was a God of Death. He just used to be a Judge of Death. The most noble and powerful of them all, indeed... but that was long ago." She paused, looking upwards to the night sky for a moment, before making a grimace. "Gods are far less ethereal than we like to think. They have their own temptations, desires, obsessions, quirks and kinks. And there are many Gods, all over the universe. But not all Gods are equal. There's Gods of Creation and of Destruction. There are weak Gods that even a mortal, with some luck, would overcome... and there's the real powerful gods at the other end of the scale, such as Thanathos, Taranis, up to Elelyon himself. Anubis... sits in the middle, we could say. There are many Gods stronger than him... but also many weaker ones."

Killer nodded, thinking about it for a moment... before asking quietly: "And Sobek and Anubis now are... a source of trouble?"

"Oh, yes. Anubis, as I said, used to be the greatest of the Judges of Death, the ones that decide of the destiny of all Souls. Heaven or Hell, punishment or ascent. But this judging power proved too much for Anubis... in ancient times, he went... insane. The power of judging over everything, plus the fact that, for a long period, his fame among mortals had grown massively, giving him an immense base of disciples and followers, made him lose his mind and go on a campaign to conquest, to expand his power over everything. The other gods had to take him down with the force... and since then, Anubis pretty much lives in hiding... and still causes trouble as often as he can manage. And he totally insists on judging souls still, much as he has been removed from the role... he constantly tries to get hold of souls, bring them into his personal pocket-dimension, and judge them."

"Oh gods. That's so frigging lame." Killer groaned, before frowning. "And to think that I've named my son Anubis. I guess he'll have to be the one that gives some shine and honor back to the name."

"I wish to your son success in doing that... But anyway, the real danger comes from the fact that Anubis has found a powerful ally, Sobek. Sobek is a much more powerful god, far closer to the top league. Sobek is a mighty Creator god, who has given life to a good few worlds somewhere in one of the countless dimensions of the universe. He rules over those worlds, and his powers are immense. It is obvious that, together, Anubis and Sobek are terribly dangerous. They haven't taken the side of a faction or another, at least for now... basically, they sit between Heaven and Hell, and work hard to steal as many souls as they can, to judge them and sentence them into their own worlds, instead of sending them here, or in Hell."

"And that damages Heaven the most, since it already gets less souls... But really Sobek has got whole worlds under his domain? And why do the other gods allow it to continue?" Killer asked curiously, looking at Ira with the impatience of a child.

"Oh, he has. Some of those worlds he's created himself. Sort of like Elelyon gave life to this world, and shaped Hell and Heaven... Elelyon is a much more powerful god than Sobek will ever be, but Elelyon is also far wiser. He's taken a special interest in this corner of the universe, and he dedicated all his attention to it, and shaped an alliance with the 7 Gods. But the seven themselves have all got their pocket dimensions where they live and rule over their followers, disciples and worshippers. And some of them do have planets they own." Ira explained calmly. "Each God normally lives in a Pocket Dimension shaped to reflect his power and his tastes. In those... worlds located in the folds of Reality, they live surrounded by armies of servants and worshippers. And those dimensions often stretch over whole areas of the universe, as almost any one of the major gods rules over at least a planet. They come here, in Elelyon's own 'territory', so to speak... because they are part of an alliance with him, and because they have learned to know and respect both Elelyon's wisdom, generosity, and power."

"I see..." Killer said quietly, nodding, before he observed: "They apparently have noticed his generosity, on top of all... indeed, it feels like some of the Seven are largely abusing of it, with how they seem to want to rule this world all by themselves. It does not feel too smart on God's side to allow it to happen."

"Elelyon's stupidity is wiser than our wisdom, and his weakness stronger than our strength." Ira replied severely, giving a bit of a wise nod. "He's asked himself to the Seven gods to take care of this world too... and he looks over it all, from above. I'm sure He knows well what He is doing."

"I hope so, then." Killer replied quietly. "But pardon my observations, but the Seven, seem to... plot behind each other's backs, and behind Elelyon's back. Elelyon does nothing to stop them... and they also seem always far from eager to stop each other's plan for real. They always use their disciples, their armies... or other instruments." Like me. A weapon to use in a war of Gods against Gods...

Ira's features softened, and she smiled to him gently, looking at him with slight amusement, before nodding as she agreed: "The Immortals fear the death more than Mortals do, Lord Killer. It is a truth. They love their power, and their worlds, where they are the Alpha and Omega of everything. There have been, and there are wars between Gods... you've seen by yourself that Taranis goes around served by Seth, another God of War. And there are others, too. But in most wars, the Gods do not kill each other... the defeated one normally become a servant of the winner. Gods do not want to die, Amon-Ra. They like too much what they have. And that's why their power depends so much on Disciples, worshippers and followers. They will rarely engage another God in a battle to the death."

Killer nodded, then smiled widely at her, gratefully patting her muscular shoulder. "Thanks, Ira. I owe you a lot already... and that's after just one day."

Ira smiled, shaking her head dismissively before she added gently: "I'd like to be able to tell you more, but there's only so much that I've been allowed to learn. Vesta certainly knows a lot more, and she could tell you about the bond between the Seven and Elelyon. Anyway, before you brought me on this long path that I had not planned to follow, I was about to warn you. Anubis and Sobek reportedly have you and Lady Alexis in their sight. Anubis will want to 'judge' you two, finding obscene that you are in Heaven without having gone through any kind of Trial, and Sobek will be all too eager to help him in order to get hold of the famous Amon-Ra and his power."

Killer made a grimace, dropping back against the huge tree trunk with a sigh. "Well, that's certainly not good. I'll keep my eyes open... I'm already growing tired of being considered an emotionless magic sword that one can use to fight his battles through a third person."

"Prudence will be better for once, indeed." Ira said simply, nodding wisely. "And now it is really time for you to open that book, and get working. No excuses anymore."

"Recess's over." Killer mumbled, and Ira nodded with a grin.

"Exactly."

Time a week, Killer had learned a lot about Heaven, but little about Ira, save for that he could observe himself. She continued to be mysterious about her nature and her painful past and present inner struggles. Somehow, she hated her own self almost as much as Killer hated himself for his terrible darkness. But Killer couldn't really understand what was wrong. Ira was always controlled, always in control, and a week was enough to make Killer understand that she was both a born leader and a formidable warrior. She commanded the Monastery with an iron fist of discipline, but always with justice, and her decisions proved to always be wise and informed by experience.

She was a great commander that Killer would have wanted in his army at any time. The kind of leader that makes soldier spit blood with work and discipline, but that gains their admiration and even friendship with the justice and the respect shown to them, in any and all circumstances.

Even so, though, she was... isolated. There was something, that Killer still ignored, that kept Ira isolated and alone, even between fellow Seraphims. As much as she was respected, there still was some kind of prejudice, and it showed... And it did weight on Ira's shoulders a lot, much as she hid it.

It was something that shocked Killer, the prejudice so visible and tangible. In just a week, he had learned that Heaven was far, far away from the perfect real of grace and goodness that people dreamed. People were always people, with all their defects... so much that, no matter her many recognized good points, even Ira was regarded as an unwelcome stranger the presence of whom was to be tolerated.

To add insult to injury, no one missed to see Ira's extraordinary beauty, which easily made each and every male giddy when they saw her. Ira refused and repelled all approaches, but those were as frequent, paradoxically, as the manifestations of prejudice, and it horrified Killer to no end.

Ira was wild as a deer, and of the doe she at times seemed to have the shyness, as she was easily scared by her emotions. Being alone for so long had made her wary, and the first movement or approach too sudden made her get alarmed. But she had also all the seductive quality and the grace of a big predatory feline. Her emerald eyes were deep, full of soul and beautiful... and even when in combat she hid her expression, her eyes turning into irises-less pits of bright emerald light, they conserved all their appeal. The black fins on her head gave her a proud and strong look, and her muscular arms and toned body reinforced the impression greatly. Of the predator, she had all the strength. Yet, the huge biceps and mighty abdominals did not take an ounce away from her femininity. Packed under lucid, smooth and cool black scales with red stripes, her muscles only added to her appearance... And her tall figure had all the deadly elegance of the Cobra that she was. Her breasts were enormous, tall and proud on her chest, and Killer had the temptation to wrap his arms around her waist every time she was close, admittedly, as the sumptuous breasts and the shapely hips gave the perfect feminine figure.

Killer had been staring at her from the very start, openly and teasingly, and he continued to stare at her more often than not, in quite indecent ways. He was not alone, but he could proudly say that he was the only one that Ira pretty much 'allowed' to look as he pleased. She never missed to scold him and occasionally punched him when he got too bold, but never did she really draw away from his attention. But that, at least that far, had been it: attentions, but from respectful distance.

As much as she was the center of the attention of the whole community of Eaglenest, she never did exploit the situation... nor did she ever gave in to any approach, resisting valiantly to her own desires.

Because she had her own hungers, and Killer could see them hidden in the folds... yet, somehow, she kept them hidden and repressed. Probably also because she feared to be betrayed, and the male could understand. The very same persons that admired and chased after her beauty and grace were the same ones that treated her as a stranger... it was only natural that she couldn't trust anyone.

So, being the centre of all the attention was merely a nuisance, not the source of any pride or even amusement... despite having some of the younger soldiers following her everywhere like pets if they had a chance at all to do so.

Ira did not exploit it, nor did she let herself be damaged by it, showing impressive wisdom and self control in each and every action.

She was, in short, someone that Killer could only admire. He had grown proud of having her as Mentor, and he was even more glad to notice that she had grown proud of him as pupil, too, much as he continued to perform unsatisfactorily in terms of magic learning. Spells weren't exactly his thing... and he showed immense difficulties in bringing out his supernatural powers too, save for the simplest uses of energy, both golden and black, that continued to be pretty much the most he could give.

On the physical side of things, he was performing incredibly well, however... Ira was astonished by the rapidity of his progresses, and by the end of the first week he was already climbing up the mountain with two blocks of lodestone, one hanging from each wrist, instead of the single one he had started with. As to the bracelets, collar and ankle-rings, he had learned to live with them, and understood what movements he could do, and how he could... and he had quickly learned not to try doing other movements, instead. But then tens of tons of the manacles and collar had quickly grown insufficient for Ira's tastes. Killer was too confident, and she had already added a massive belt to the kit, and announced that whole new, larger and heavier pieces were to come as soon as they were ready.

That of course wasn't welcome news for Killer.

At the end of the first week, Killer felt miserable enough to understand that all the previous times in his life in which he had felt down had all been paradise, in reality. The training was ferocious, and the rhythm was unsustainable. Early in the morning he would start breaking stone apart, in the afternoon he had to climb the mountain and carry the huge blocks along. He was getting used to the trip up and down the gigantic Monolith, and his body was admittedly growing stronger with each passing minute... but that just meant that now an afternoon was occupied with several climbs, instead of only one. And of course, the night was spent studying the ancient books, the spells, the runes, Heaven and Hell's workings, and, soon enough, sparring with Ira, as she started engaging him in long, harsh fights meant to improve all of his skills.

His entire body was sore and ached horribly, his hands had been crumbled over and over again, and countless times his bones had regrown painfully in place... and the worst part was that he felt like his very soul was sore. Alexis was far away from him, and he had no real news of her at all, and even Vesta, Diana, and any other friend he had had been nowhere in sight. On the other hand, the workers at the quarry continued to work to make his life miserable, and their continuing teasing, mocking and hostility made everything harder. And gods above. Heaven might have made sleeping and eating and even breathing superfluous, but he still breathed out of instinct and suffered like hell when his breathing was cut off, and the wishes of finally eating something and touch a bed for a few minutes at least were getting more and more frequent, stronger and stronger.

Ira had not exaggerated at all when she had announced him that the training would have been a massacring exercise, and that he would have had to work, work, and work for a long time before getting any hint of rest. He had no time to himself, not even time to think... which wasn't totally bad, at least, since it was of some help in bearing the burden of Alexis's absence, and it meant that Black Killer was silent most of the time. But it was a crushing schedule of work, and left him no time at all for anything. Even the virgin priestesses of the cathedral still were virgins, and that was a first. Not to exaggerate, but it was the very first time that a bunch of attractive, beautiful virgins were still integer after a week with Killer around.

And things did not improve in the following weeks. Not at all. The only changes were in the weights he was forced to wear and carry as part of his training, which continued to be augmented every few days. More than one month passed, without a single break in the training schedule, and without any pleasant visit. Vesta and Diana were still busy in the war, and no one else showed up... Well. Save for Michael. Somehow, the Arkangel managed to find some time in his days to pop up at Eaglenest almost daily. He had made a mission of making Killer's life miserable and tease him day after day, and he was keeping faith to his plan to the very end. The fact that Ira was Killer's mentor only made Michael even more gleeful: apparently, tormenting her did give him just as much pleasure... And Killer's hate for the Arkangel, as a consequence, kept growing to new and higher levels.

"Concentration, Killer, concentration!" Ira tiredly exclaimed, leaning against a wall with a muscular arm as she looked with exasperation to the huge male standing in the enormous courtyard of the Monastery. The Seraphim once more pointed to the gigantic cube of Lodestone, taller than Killer, which had been placed at the far end of the courtyard. Of course, Killer himself had had to pull it up on top of the mountain, dragging it upwards with Godblood chains, foot after foot.

And now, like he had done every single night of the last two weeks, he was trying to lift it with telekinesis. He only wished he could do it in the darkness, unseen... instead the courtyard was very well illuminated by old-school torches mounted on the walls that encircled the area, and moreover by a series of floating spheres of magic light that lightened the whole yard with a gentle, warm light.

That meant that all the Monastery could see him fail at telekinesis and magic, and that obviously wasn't something pleasant at all for the ridiculously-proud liger, who suffered a lot more for embarrassment and humiliations than he suffered because of wounds. The few Seraphims that had returned for a couple days of leave from the war had been supportive of his efforts... but the soldiers of the garrison loved him almost as much as the workers down at the quarry. If not less. The fact that Killer had been able to enter the fortress undetected had had as consequence also a decision of Ira of massively strengthening the surveillance, which of course meant that every soldier had less rest time and more work to do... and that only added to their hate for him.

He snapped back out of his thoughts as Ira walked up to his back, grasping his huge shoulders with her hands and squeezing tightly on them as her voice lowered to a hypnotic whisper. "Feel the stone. Feel it in your mind. Its weight. Its surface. Grasp it. Lift it. And bring it here."

Killer sighed in exasperation, but he tried, for the hundredth time. Telekinesis was Alexis's field, not certainly his own... But Ira said that he had the power to do it, and that he had to learn to exploit it. The first time that they had trained in this practice, and Ira had ordered him to lift the stone, he had cheerfully went forth, pulled the mountain-heavy block off the ground and brought it across the yard, leaving Ira speechless and gaping for a long moment, before she had thrown a fireball at him, knocked him over, and let out a loud stew of curses of exasperation before trying hard to retain her composure as she explained exactly what she wanted, and then showed him.

As strong and powerful as she was, she couldn't lift a block that massive with her muscles... but with her mind, she did prove that she could make the gigantic cube float in midair and shot across the yard, before bringing it back with just a gaze.

But for Killer, the opposite was certainly true. After all the training he had endured, he had pushed his physical limits even further away than they used to be, and no weight seemed impossible anymore. But each and every attempt of using telekinesis had so far miserably failed. He hadn't even managed to budge the gigantic stone, feeling endlessly stupid in the long stretches of time spent staring at the damn thing without anything happening.

He tried again, setting his sight on the stone, eyes narrowing and all his concentration going into lifting the massive obsidian boulder that mocked him for his failures... But again, nothing happened, until he snorted irritably and raised a hand towards the stone, gritting his fangs in rage more than concentration.

"Stop it..." Ira said dejectedly, sighing a bit before grumbling: "Rage will not move it, and not even scare it. If you uselessly get angry, you'll only enter a vicious circle, as you'll fail, and just get even more pissed."

"I know. But it is not like I can do much about it." Killer mumbled under his breath, before cursing angrily. "I just can't concentrate enough. It is not something I'm good at, I miss Alexis, and for the first time ever since I was a cub I've not add sexual releases in a month, while I'd normally take many each single day. Time to take a leave and remedy to that."

"Ah Ah Ah." Ira commented sarcastically, mocking a laughter. "It does not work with me, boy. I'll give you a leave when it'll be time. And anyway, that is not the real problem." She grabbed him by the back of the skull, and rattled his head a bit, like he was a stubborn child. "There's such potential, such power within you, that you could lift that stone without concentration at all. You could think of pussy all the time and still do it... the problem is that you are scared of letting your power out, and you yourself keep it chained deep within." Ira paused, then sighed again, tiredly, and closed her eyes, rubbing a hand on her forehead slowly. "Until you continue to fear yourself and repress all of your power to avoid the risks connected with it, I can't help you. But you'll have to resign yourself, and bring your might and skills out, if you want to survive and save the world. Even with your atomic punch, you wouldn't last a minute against the Gods."

"That's to be proven." Killer grumbled, making a grimace, but he looked down to his hand all the same, knowing full well that Ira was speaking the truth. But how could he take the risk...? The power he felt, buried within... the power he had seen in Black Killer... it wasn't something he could control. No one could. He trusted Alexis, Vesta, Ira, his friends and their judgment. But the one he did not trust was himself. It was true... he was... holding back. Constantly, from when the training had begun. He was doing so instinctively, out of worries and fears, and against the ever-rising temptation of unleashing, of learning just how powerful he really was, against the desire of feeling the omnipotence he had seen in his dark, evil self. It cost him more pain and more fatigue than any exercise of the massacring training schedule Ira had put him on. Far, far more. It took every last ounce of his will force to resist the lust for power that he had always had.

Yet, he knew that he would have had to release all of his might. Gradually, with the maximum prudence... but holding back was certainly not an option. He had not forgotten how easily Michael had sent him down to the ground, and several times, in the arena. And he was proven, day after day, that his brute, crushing strength alone was not enough in each and every sparring duel he fought with Ira. He had been pretty much unable to land a single blow on her: she had the same grace and speed and agility of Alexis, and she was just as incredibly skilled with swords. Her Katanas seemed to be everywhere at the very same time... and Killer had learned to well know both of them: Vampira, the white-glowing blade, was imbued with an energy-sucking curse, and each wound it delivered, even a scratch, became a massive energy drain, quickly weakening even the reserves of someone as vigorous as Killer. Arctica, the blue-glowing sword, carried in itself the power of the ice, and each blow from it would quickly freeze up the damaged part, the cold and ice spreading inside and outside the wound.

And each and every time that Killer had managed to break past the two Katanas, Ira had easily managed to reply with a spell of some kind, repelling him, and sending him down more often than not with anything from fireballs to psychic blasts...

And once, very interesting development, she had sent him down to his knees briefly with Dominate. The very same power of Lust that Regina had possessed in spades, and that could turn anyone into a drooling, slavering sexual slave.

Killer had had enough time to see Ira grinning sharkishly from over their crossed blades, her eyes emotionless pits of emerald light, as always when she was fighting, before that light had flashed maliciously, and time had spaced out for the huge male, who was washed over by a sudden, irresistible desire of serving each and every wish of the Seraphim.

He had broken out of it quickly but not without harsh struggling, despite his past experience with Regina... and then Ira had gaped, blinked, and snapped out of her combat mode, backstepping with a shocked expression, before dropping down on her knees with a horrified look.

Killer had scrambled towards her to offer his help... but she had raised a hand to stop him, and quickly calmed, dropping her head down and closing her eyes.

Killer could swear he had heard her cursing herself with ferociousness, but he kept silent, staying at distance as she clearly wished.

It strengthened the curiosity of Killer about Ira's true self, since he was almost certain that Dominate had nothing angelic about it... But at the sight of her self-loathing, which lasted for several days after the 'incident', he was merciful enough not to even try asking.

"Try again. Do not hold back this time, please. Feel the stone with your mind, grab it, encircle it... feel your force and the energy in the air, and use it." Ira commanded, calmly but solemnly, stepping back from him to leave him space and quiet to concentrate... And Killer made a grimace, biting his lip angrily before sighing to replace the disappointment and embarrassment of failure with a total focus on the stone. This time I move it. No excuses.

Killer fixed his gaze on the black, lucid lodestone. He instinctively raised his hand up and pointed his palm at the stone, and he closed his eyes. Feel the Energy. Move the stone.

He peered out from one eye, but the stone hadn't even budged, and he growled impatiently.

MOVE, GODDAMNIT!

There was a loud crack, and Killer straightened with a grunt of surprise, eyes flashing open in time to see the enormous block of stone crumbling to the ground in a pile of dust and pebbles and fragments, leaving him staring stupidly at it for a moment before he asked: "What the hell happened...?"

Ira stared at him flatly for a moment, crossing her powerful arms on her chest and tapping her fingers on her huge bicep in exasperation, before she sighed and said: "You overdid it. You lashed out at the block with rage, didn't you...? And your energy crushed it into dust."

Killer looked at the pile of rubble for a moment, and then grinned stupidly. "Hey, that is not a bad thing, no? I always envied Alexis for her capacity of smashing things even without having to move a finger. It is... so frigging cool."

"But it is not the point of the exercise." Ira replied firmly, rolling her eyes upwards tiredly. "If you tried to apply honestly to the training, you'd manage to crush into bits far bigger and harder thing than even that one, with all the power you've got. But I want you to learn to use your power in a smart and if possible even elegant way. So now you'll go, take the stock block of lodestone, and bring it out here so you can try again."

Killer groaned, but did as he was told, bringing forwards the second cube of Lodestone that Ira, prudently, had ordered him to bring up the mountain, so that he could try again at finding a feeling of some sort with telekinesis.

Ira, wisely, first assisted him in a short period of meditation, to help him calm down: Killer's lack of patience was an obstacle in obtaining the proper concentration, but meditation was good to remedy to the problem.

It was destiny, however, that their training had to be constantly hampered for that day: as he tried again at lifting the immense stone with his mind, in fact, Ira groaned in disgust and Killer looked up in time to see Michael walking up from the doors of the castle at the other end of the yard.

"Has he got nothing useful to do...?" Killer muttered under his breath, gaining a grunt of approbation from a sour-looking Ira, the Seraphim turning to her student and acting like she hadn't seen the Prince at all... But of course, Michael was seeking out just for them, and walked up towards them with a grin plastered on his muzzle.

"I so fucking hate that fucker." Ira snarled, rubbing a hand tiredly over her eyes, almost like she was hoping that Michael wouldn't have been there anymore when she reopened them. In fact, Michael had come visiting almost every night, specifically to tease them and make them miserable. Vesta, Diana and even Gabriel were busy fighting all over Heaven and were not allowed an hour of leave... Michael, instead, apparently had no trouble taking his time to himself at the end of each day.

"So, what is our famous Amon-Ra failing at, today...?" Michael cheerfully called, while he still was well over fifty feet away. Some of the soldiers in the courtyard laughed, but Killer was at least relieved to see that the few Seraphims around did glare coldly at the Prince Arkangel instead.

"Prince..." Ira said, the single word seeming to take a terrible effort out of her as she struggled to keep calm and composed, not adding anything at all, both not to get vulgar and for the hope he'd be left without arguments to torment them with, if she didn't give him ideas.

Of course, it wasn't the case. The half-dragon, half-sabertooth giant looked over Killer, then over the block of lodestone, and he grinned, crossing his powerful arms on his chest as he said: "Oh. Telekinesis. And I see that our dear Amon-Ra is failing miserably at it." The Arkangel paused, before smiling with the arrogant amusement that Killer had easily learned to loathe.

"At least I did not get my balls and face turned into pulp in front of the Seven Gods." Killer replied idly, and Ira sighed, before - with clear, immense regret - reprimanding him. "Less comebacks and more sweat! I want to see that stone moving!"

Much as she hated Michael, she had to follow the rules with him around. He was a Monarch of Heaven and one of the highest ranking Arkangels. She was little more than an elite grunt to him in the ranks.

But I bet she could kick his ass. Hard. No matter the rank.

"That is something we will fix sometime soon, Amon-Ra." Michael venomously hissed, before grinning as Killer once more raised a hand towards the stone, but failed to make it move.

"Your mentor does not want fancy poses from you, moron. She wants... this." Michael suddenly exclaimed, and Killer's eyes widened as his instinct screamed at him an alarm: the space of a blink later, the stone shot into the air and towards him, the huge male barely managing to throw himself in a roll to the side, stopping into a crouch as the gigantic rock rammed through the air in the spot he had just left... before Killer grunted as the stone flipped in midair, turned back and shot again towards him, this time rising into the air and then diving towards him as Michael cackled.

"Enough, prince." Ira snapped angrily, lashing out a hand, and Killer was left staring upwards at the stone as it floated in midair, rocking up and down nervously, like a restless horse, as Michael's force tried to ram the enormous stone into Killer and Ira's own force kept it afloat by shoving upwards instead. "Amon-Ra is my pupil, and the pleasure of snapping at him is only mine."

"Ah!" Michael spat, making a grimace of distaste. "But you never do snap at him, do you...? Slut that you are, you've probably been drooling all over his cock all this time!"

"I wish she had." Killer observed from where he was, before looking up to Ira and feeling immediately guilty of what he had said, as he saw the fury with which she was now looking at the Prince.

"So you are saying that I should believe in the purity of this... bitch?" Michael asked, grinning arrogantly as he spat out the last insult, and Ira trembled with rage, even as Killer stood up and walked to her side.

"You MUST, arrogant bastard. She's been more than impeccable." The huge male said firmly, gazing coldly to the Arkangel, who snarled angrily and turned to him with a grimace of hate and disgust.

"Shut the hell up! Savior of the lost battles! You can't even learn a bit of telekinesis!" The angel snapped, lashing out with an arm. Killer stumbled backwards, and blood erupted from a diagonal, deep gash ripped in his chest, but he only did glare back to the Arkangel... before turning back in time to seize the corners of the block of lodestone that had again shot forwards to flatten him from behind.

Killer grunted as he was pushed backwards roughly, skidding a good ten feet in the earth and gravel of the yard before he managed to stop, his feet and talons digging trenches in the ground... but even as Michael put all of his psychic power in shoving the stone forwards, Killer's huge muscles bulged with power and forced back firmly.

"You see, Michael... all is relative. I can't lift this thing with my mind... but while you can't budge it with your hands, I can do this." Killer grinned, then growled and pulled hard outwards with his strong arms, and the stone noisily cracked down the middle before the whole block was ripped in half, cracks spreading across it as Killer squeezed the two halves in his hands, until they crumbled into pebbles that fell to the ground.

"Don't make me shatter your face again." Killer said teasingly, turning back to Michael... and the Arkangel stepped forwards with a snarl of fury. Ira immediately stepped forwards as well, though, glaring to him challengingly.

"Drop your divine barrier a moment, if you dare, prince." She teased, putting all of her reprobation in the last word.

"What the hell is happening here...? Why is Lord Killer bleeding?" A voice exclaimed, and Michael made a grimace, stepping backwards and dropping his fists as the huge male liger frowned and looked up, to see Alcana, the Goddess of Love, walking towards them, as outrageously beautiful as always. A few steps behind her, shy Gaia followed, smiling quietly as she met Killer's gaze, one small, delicate hand rising to wave at him shyly.

Alcana's golden scales gleamed under the soft light of the floating magic orbs, but her eyes - again fixed the very same icy sapphire of Killer's own - glowed with anger as she looked from the nasty gash in the liger's chest to Michael, the prince Arkangel seeming to shrink a good few feet under her angry gaze.

"What did happen here...?" She asked again, putting her hands at her hips and glaring at Michael coldly, her mighty dragon wings flapping lightly behind her.

"I taught him a lesson." The Arkangel finally admitted, with far less arrogance than usual, and both Alcana and Gaia made matching grimaces, before Ira snarled a bit to himself and finally exploded.

"He did come here specifically to tease Lord Killer and interfere with his training. He attacked him and all but tried to flatten Amon-Ra under a block of lodestone." The Seraphim said firmly, glaring at Michael like he was a particularly ugly and unwanted bug crawling her house.

Gaia looked at Killer for a moment, then at the crumbled pebbles of lodestone on the ground near his feet, and she smiled a bit, looking slightly amused as she asked quietly: "Did you crumble the stone?"

"Yes, Gaia." Killer answered simply, bowing his head forwards respectfully, even as Alcana let out a murr of appreciation and looked at him with interest, licking her lips slowly... before snapping as Michael opened his mouth to reply. "Enough, Prince. You escorted us here, thank you. Now you are dismissed. And I would suggest to avoid messing with Lord Killer's training. It displeases me, and it certainly will not make any of the other Gods happy either. Vanish from my sight, right now."

Michael looked shocked for a moment, but he did drop his head forwards and bowed. "It shall be done."

Each of the four words came out with a great deal of effort... but still came out, and both Killer and Ira couldn't repress a slight smile as the Arkangel quickly walked away, angrily gesturing for his large group of huge, muscular guards to follow him out.

"He will return. I'd be surprised if he gives us one full day of peace." Ira observed wisely, and Gaia nodded, Alcana adding a grunt of reluctant agreement.

"He knows all too well that, while formally all Gods will deplore his actions... behind the façade there's who supports him." Gaia said quietly, looking over the Arkangel with a tired frown, before she turned to Killer and smiled up at him gently. "But let me help you. We can fix the wound in a moment." She reached her small, apparently-delicate hand up, and traced one finger firmly down the wound that crossed his chest, making him grunt a bit despite himself... But look down in amazement as the wound all but vanished, muscle, flesh, skill and everything sealing back in place with her touch.

"He does not bear the fact that you are here, stealing all the spotlight." Alcana added with a grin, looking to Killer with a wink.

"Believe me, I'd leave it to him if I could." Killer replied honestly, before smiling down to Gaia as she looked up at him with amusement and a little nod of approbation.

"He'd learn he isn't up to the task in that case. And we'd be all doomed." Alcana observed simply.

"We really should get back to work, Lord Killer. We lost too much time already." Ira said calmly, turning to him with a nod. Killer made a bit of a grimace, but nodded back. Gaia, however, turned to the Seraphim with a concerned look on her face, and although she hesitated for a long moment, she finally told to the larger, muscular female: "Couldn't we give Lord Killer the night to rest some...? For what I understand, he's been going non-stop for the whole month. A few hours won't hurt his training schedule."

Ira frowned a bit, looking torn between her sympathy for Killer and her inflexible, almost cruel professionalism, but Alcana smiled warmly, looking at the huge male liger fondly before observing: "He's been working hard. His body is even stronger, his musculature has grown in size and tone both, and considering the level he was, considering the godlike body he has had to somehow improve, I'm amazed to no end. It is only a few hours before the dawn, and we are here visiting. It is fair that Lord Killer gets the night."

Ira nodded, then bowed deeply, and Killer saw a smile on her lips for a moment. "So be it, goddesses." She straightened, and turned to Killer, hiding every sign of her previous, private smile, if it had ever existed. "You are lucky. Be grateful to the goddesses, they've gained you an unplanned rest period."

"I am most grateful." Killer replied easily, bowing with an easy smile... before he sneaked a gaze at his own arms. Did I really grow more muscle...? He wandered vainly about it for a moment, and yes... it was pretty damn clear that his arms bulged with muscles even bigger, harder and stronger than ever. It did make him more than glad, to say the very least... he took great pride in his body, and the change was indeed more than noticeable. He wondered for a moment why he hadn't even realized it before... but then he snorted inwardly as he remembered that in a month he literally hadn't had a single minute to himself, he had been too busy or too exhausted to even take a look at himself... and certainly hadn't seen a mirror in that whole time.

The unexpected free night did allow him to enter his little house, also for the first time since he had built it. Ira had allowed him to build a small house for himself, just right beside hers, in the breaks that the other workers enjoyed, but that Killer wasn't allowed to taste. He had shaped and carried up the mountain all the parts for it, from the lodestone bricks to the huge, sturdy beams that he had made out of a huge tree trunk. Chopping the 12-foot diameter ancient tree trunk and then break it into beams had been paradise for his hands, used to deal with the terribly hard lodestone.

It was a very modest house, with a thin wall separating the main room from the bedroom, and that was it... but like all things that someone builds personally, it was precious to him. And it was also admittedly well made. Ira had been so kind to draw a couple of circle of runes inside it: one included several protective spells meant to ensure, as much as possible, that no one could spy inside with magical or technological means alike, even impeding to the sounds to go from the inside to the outside, while not hampering the opposite, so that he could listen but not be listened. The other was an handy spell that magically expanded space... which meant that, inside, the house was a lot bigger than it looked from outside. She had drawn both into the ground that he had later covered with a floor of wooden panels, more warm and friendly-feeling than slabs of black, cold lodestone. He had also been able to put a bed, a table, an armchair, a small desk and some other comforts into it: as a worker in the quarry, and as builder, he was paid, and paid quite well: the head of the company that managed the quarry and the Monastery-expansion work was good and honest. A small fox named Levant, he had been happy to pay Killer, since the liger had, alone, more than trebled the productivity, while also pushing down costs. He did not need expensive magic crystals and exoskeletons... and when Killer had shown passion and talent even in the building phase, putting the blocks of lodestone in place and securing them in constructions even complex such as cylindrical columns of the new main hall, Levant had gladly given him a further adjustment.

So Killer had been able to expand the already quite good sum of gold coins he and Alexis had won in the arena and divided in equal parts, and with part of the money he had acquired some basic furniture. Of course, he had asked Levant to be so kind to buy them himself and bring it to the Monastery, since he hadn't had a chance to leave the fortress and go anywhere himself.

The house was good. The shame was that he had been into it only to build it, as his training schedule had left him no time at all to enjoy its comforts. He pushed the simple wooden door open and looked at his own house almost with the same curiosity that the goddesses had. Killer walked ahead, and gently pulled three chairs out from under the simple round table, smiling as he saw Alcana look all around the house with a smile, Gaia looking at the obsidian walls of stone with curiosity which turned to a bit of sadness as Ira closed the door.

"Something wrong, Goddess...?" Killer asked with a frown of concern, and Gaia blushed deep red, looking down in shame for a moment before hesitatingly smile up at him. "No, no... absolutely. The house is perfectly built, and you did a good work... but that black stone..." The beautiful snow leopard touched the wall lightly, and looked at it like it pained her heart. "Nothing grows on it. It is sad... and... I don't really like it."

Killer smiled amusedly at that: Mother Nature of course did love sprawling, luscious vegetation, flowers and bright green color all over, and the arid stone did sadden her, so dead-feeling and almost hostile. "Some green would be welcome, indeed." The huge male observed quietly, and Gaia brightened and smiled cheerfully at him.

"May I...?" She asked gently, and Killer nodded with a quiet laugh. "I'd be honored of it!"

Ira looked amused at their exchange, sitting quietly down in a chair that Killer pulled for her with a smile, as Gaia beamed up visibly and mused for a moment before fluidly moving her arm in an arch in the air before her, giggling quietly as bright green vines immediately grew up between the wooden tables of the floor and climbed up the wall around the frame of the door, before beautiful red flowers that Killer had never before seen spread wide open, revealing a golden core. But Gaia was already tracing her hand delicately along the dark stone wall, smiling cheerfully as a thick, luscious tangle of sprawling vines and flowers quickly covered all the wall, up to the ceiling, where the vines twisted around the wooden beams at incredible speed, developing under their eyes all the way until flowers of all colors were hanging over them, seeming to look down at them all as the lithe, beautiful snow leopard smiled widely, seeming to almost dance on the spot as the turned around the small house until all the walls and ceiling were covered by sprawling nature.

"Beautiful." Killer commented with a smile, looking around amusedly, and Gaia did stop, giving a bit of an embarrassed smile as she joined her hands and bowed humbly forwards, asking quietly: "Did I overdo it, Lord Killer...?"

"Not at all, Goddess." The huge male replied warmly, and the leopardess looked up at him with an affectionate smile, before turning to the fireplace of stone in the wall, a simple pot of lucid copper hanging above wood ready to be ignited... And she turned to Killer, Ira and Alcana with a smile as she asked: "Would any of you have a tea? Lord Killer, I can make some delicious tea, which will also calm and soothe your long-abused and sore body."

Killer did almost drool at the idea of just a cup of tea after over a month of total fasting, but he still did sneak a worried gaze to Ira, as if to ask his mentor's permission. The muscular cobra looked amused at that, and nodded with a slight grin, allowing Killer to nod eagerly.

"I would absolutely love that, Goddess."

"Call me Gaia, please." The snow leopardess replied gently, bowing to him quietly, before smiling widely as she straightened. "It is such a good feeling when you say my name."

"My pleasure and honor then, Gaia." Killer replied gently, gaining another radiant smile from the leopardess even as she approached the fireplace and fire immediately eagerly cracked in the wood, water spilling from the palm of her hand and quickly filling the pot, as in her other hand a sprawling bundle of tea leaves appeared from thin air under Killer's amazed eyes.

"Will you call me by name too...?" Alcana teased him, putting her hands on his muscular shoulder and leaning her chin on the back of them, grinning at him amusedly.

"Of course, if that is what you want." Killer answered with a little nod, and Alcana laughed, nodding herself. "And you will be so gentle to call me Killer in answer, both of you."

"Well then, Killer, it is a deal." The beautiful golden dragoness purred, eyeing him with interest once more, before looking around the house for a moment, humming thoughtfully. "Isn't it a shame...? So much handsome male, and not even a small mirror in the whole house."

"I'm... huh." Killer coughed a bit, then grinned slightly as he explained awkwardly: "I'm not exactly a mirror-type, even at home... and even before Ira took my days and made them a single, never-ending age of training -"

"Fuck you too." Ira grunted gamely, grinning as she crossed her mighty arms on the table, interrupting him but making a grin crest his muzzle nonetheless.

"Even before, I was saying, I never thought I'd need a mirror here."

"Oh, but this way you'll never see how much outstanding progress you've gotten in with your training!" Alcana observed amusedly, grinning widely herself before looking to the wall and pointing a finger at it, a massive wooden-framed mirror appearing immediately on it, as Gaia's vines withdrew some to leave it the space it needed. The dragoness then gently but powerfully pushed him forwards towards the mirror, and he walked to it with an amused snort, before staring as he immediately realized what she meant.

"See...? It has been a very effective month, you've worked real hard." Alcana observed teasingly, grinning over his shoulder, standing on her foot-tips in order to do so.

Killer looked at himself with both amazement and pleasure, as he did immediately see that he was taller, bigger, stronger, and in better shape than ever. The change was quite massive, as he could see easily that he was over one foot taller than before, meaning he was closing on 20 feet by now, and the increased height was well balanced by a stronger, massive muscular mass which bulged with clear, crushing power with every minimum movement. It wasn't vanity speaking to say that it wasn't at all surprising that he had crushed the massive block of lodestone in the courtyard into dust and pebbles, as the muscles of his arms were really massive and so clearly powerful to be fearsome.

"You look awesome, that is." Alcana grinned widely, slapping his huge bicep lightly, and Killer smiled a bit, still amazed by his own look... before he turned and walked back to the table, giving Ira a sincere and grateful smile. It had been hell, and he knew it was far from over... but holy crap, it really is working!

"You sure do." Gaia observed gently, smiling as she quietly filled cups with her tea, the perfume of which, intense and yet soothing and good was already reaching Killer's nose as he sat back down at the table, Alcana at one side, Ira on the other.

Gaia walked up to them and put a large cup of hot tea before each of them, and Killer thanked her with a smile, soon enough drinking the green tea: it really was excellent and soothing, and its consistence and flavor both were something almost heavenly for real after so long without anything at all to eat or drink. He had never suffered of thirst - the very working of Heaven did rule that out - yet it was like a long craved, much-needed sip of life after a desperate trip through a desert.

They talked for some time, and Ira did made it clear that the short party was not going to delay the training activities of the following dawn, but both Gaia and Alcana tried to argue that Killer was doing even too much, and deserved some moments off at least every now and then.

Ultimately, both Alcana and Gaia promised to stay around and visit him frequently.

Killer did observe the three beautiful females at his table with interest as they talked, taking in more of their beauty and personality. Had he not known that two were goddesses and one was a Seraphim, he would have still been just as impressed by them, and just as fascinated. They were beautiful, all three of them: Gaia was lithe, feminine, sweet and caring. Shy, even, and always gentle with everyone. She was cheerful and vital, and always spoke quietly, never saying a word out of place, never being harsh, never arrogant. She was perhaps the less impressive, in terms of look, as she did lack Alcana's transcendental, faultless and godlike beauty, nor did she have the mighty muscles and outrageously gorgeous curves of Ira. Yet, she was certainly by far the most powerful being at the table, and the most powerful one in... a very frigging large radius.

Killer could feel her fearsome power in the air, burning and tangible, radiating off her quiet and shy self. And saying she wasn't as stunning as Alcana wasn't saying that she wasn't beautiful, either. She was enchanting, her black-spotted fur a silvery color almost indescribable, as it bordered towards the grey of the ocean in a cloudy day. Her fluffy, thick and soft tail was attractive in its own right, as it made you want to squeeze its softness to your chest, and her dress was never the same for more than a few moments, as the vines and flowers and plants that made up a bra and gown for her did change and evolve and shift constantly, just as her hair, made of water, continued to ripple and float gently around her head and down to her shoulders.

Alcana was incredibly beautiful, but that, Killer had to admit, probably was to be expected from the Goddess of Love. Her body was her temple, and she obvious was the mirror-type, differently from Killer... but her company was pleasant, and she had genuine fascination. Her religious care for herself did only add to her incredible allure and beauty, and it made her a true personification of temptation. Her allure, so strong on a normal day, was so far harder to resist now that Killer had been forced into chastity for a whole month, by far the longest period... since he was really, really ridiculously young, as he had had his first time very early, and he had never stopped ever since.

Alcana was so beautiful that her fascination worked magic even from a mile away, literally.

And Killer had more than enough experience not to miss the aura of sexual readiness she radiated around him: she all but called for it.

But as she sat down at the same table, with Gaia around and Ira nearby, she kept perfect control of herself, and her desire and availability were both kept hidden from the two other females...and to the male as well. Not entirely, but she put her desire and silent call behind a curtain thick enough to leave only a shadow, an outline showing.

She hid it so well, indeed, playfulness aside, that, when he suddenly caught an explicit signal coming from her, he thought his hunger had played tricks on him. He thought that her gesture had probably not been intentional, he suspected to just have seen something that he wasn't supposed to see.

Only later he did realize that, undoubtedly, Alcana had planned it out, and done it on purpose, like the sexual predator she was.

They were talking friendly around the table, and Ira was explaining the training Killer had endured and explaining Gaia how the workers down at the quarry tried to interfere with it, and Alcana had her arms crossed on the table, her huge breasts sumptuous on her chest, pushing against her arms. And while she was in that position, looking towards the other two females and listening calmly, she gently, lazily scratched a breast with her thumb's claw. It was a quiet, fleeting and almost imperceptible movement, which Killer caught for what he initially mistaken as case. Alcana, however, knew what she was doing, and the huge male found his eye lingering on the visible erection of a nipple incredibly big and luring, which grew to turgid glory under the cloth of her dress.

Killer eagerly took in the sight of that huge, soft and docile fullness of her breast, and did not miss the urgency of the excitement of that nipple... but Alcana wasn't even looking at him, and he did not notice any sign of her being aware of his gaze.

It took quite an effort not to do or say a thing, but somehow Killer managed it, and soon he was distracted by Gaia, who offered her help in training him in magic; an offer that he of course accepted gladly.

Alcana herself promised her own assistance... and then turned to him with a smile, which carried, again, no sign at all of tease, like she genuinely was unaware of what she had shown him.

She knew her weapons, definitely. Every female worth of being called so can use seduction... but she was one of the true, rare mistresses of the trade.

"Dawn is not fire away." The Goddess of love quietly observed, before looking at Killer warmly. "Our big male here might want to get a couple hours of sleep in before the new training day starts. Perhaps we should leave him alone now."

Killer hesitated, not wanting to lose their company or sound rude at all, but he did indeed felt the strong allure of even just... laying down in bed for a little while, and he finally nodded wisely. "I'm sorry to leave you, really... But Alcana is right. I feel I could make good use of a bed for a while."

"Sure, Killer. It will help you recover some." Gaia observed gently, standing up together with Alcana, and Ira followed, walking towards the door of the house before turning to look at him over her muscular shoulder, holding up a hand and signaling a two with her fingers. "Two hours. Use them well, because after that we start right away."

"And who can forget that." Killer mumbled, making Ira grin as she rolled her shoulders a bit.

"You won't. If you aren't up and ready when the time comes, I'm gonna kick down your door and kick you out of the bed." Ira said, before walking out tossing him a wave. Gaia bowed with a smile to him and then followed the Seraphim out, and Alcana left after gifting him a wink.

Killer looked as the simple wooden door closed, and sighed tiredly after a moment, even as he stood up and caressed one of the big, beautiful flowers that now adorned the walls, smiling a bit to himself. The thought of laying in bed for a couple hours was fantastic, after a month of herculean fatigue which had gone on and on without break as if in a never-ending day. He walked towards the door leading into the only other room of the simple house, and couldn't help toss a rapid gaze towards the mirror as he passed by, admittedly more than pleased by the obvious improvements in his already godlike body, and then finally caressed the simple bed with his eyes.

He did stop a moment at his desk, however, where the golden bang of Alexis's hair lay, and picked this up with indescribable care and devotion, bringing it to his muzzle to breathe of her perfume, kissing the bang lovely. Several strolls and sheets of paper were piled on the desk, along with a pen, with which he had hoped to be able to write to Alexis regularly... but with Vesta busy at the front, he was cut off from his beloved femme fatale. It was part of why he craved for Vesta to finally come and visit... but he sighed, touching the paper slowly. It sure wasn't the Seraphim's fault if she didn't show up. He knew all too well that Vesta would have gladly never left, but nor being Queen of the Seraphims, nor being as powerful as she was was enough to make her a free person. She had to do what the Gods commanded... and what is right. She cannot turn her back to her own angels and to Heaven itself. They all need her, and she knows it.

For a moment, Killer stood there, tempted to try and do something... draw a picture, perhaps. Something of him and Alexis. An image from one of his fond memories of their life together. Something to keep his mood up, to make him feel like she was close to his side. Something to show her too, when finally they were reunited. Or perhaps he could write a poem about her... gods knew how epic she was, in all aspects, from her breasts to her beauty to her power to her teasing, proud personality.

"If only I wasn't so dumb." Killer mumbled, making a bit of a face. "I never could write a poem. There's infinite things I could and would say of Alexis, and endless praise she does deserve... but I'm just so frigging incapable to come up with the right words for making of it a poem and not a list of fancy words."

Drawing, he was somehow better at it. He did write every now and then, when he had the time... and he wasn't too bad at it. But for now he thought he really did need some rest.

He quickly undid the fly of his pants, and stepped out of the black jeans with a little sigh of relief as he finally sat down on the bed... and let his back fall down flat on it, closing his eyes in delight.

He was far from the lazy type, and even at home he did sleep little... but gods above, it felt so awesome to be laying down for the first time in so long time spent doing supernatural work and training.

He only did make a face at the feeling in his guts at being alone, without Alexis snuggling close to his side, his arm searching her but finding only the mattress as the huge male reached up for his golden bullet necklace, toying with it affectively for a moment. It was another way to... stay close. Alexis had her own bullet, and he hoped that, somehow, she'd be able to sense, guess his loving touch even across the distance.

Soon enough, he was asleep, the bullet still squeezed into his hand on his chest, the male laying on his side and in a slightly-awkward position, as he very much was embracing a powerful, beautiful feminine body that wasn't there. He was dreaming of her, feeling Alexis pressed against his chest, hot and soft as silk, but muscular and powerful at the same time, her strong arms wrapped around him as his was wrapped around her, in mutual love, in reciprocal need and protection.

And then, suddenly... he slowly awakened to the awareness that he was not dreaming anymore. The huge breast he was squeezing was hot and real, and the breath-catching body pressing against him and against his enormous, hard cock was alive and excited, her hand having already pushed his boxers down to free his growing erection.

Killer awakened immediately, and he called her name, eagerly, his eyes glowing with delight and happiness as he found hers gleaming sapphire in the darkness, looking at him. Her fangs in a luminous, teasing grin, her glorious body naked and awesome, a symphony of muscle and yet a triumph of female, pressing against his body with love and need, as burning as he was, one of her hands gently touching the hard, throbbing length of his huge member, her breasts pushing into his obsidian cock, the simple contact giving him a pleasure almost unbearable.

"Alexis..." He said again, staring at her with adoration and hunger, her eyes looking back into his with equal passion. "How did you come here...?"

The female snorted amusedly, and pulled him over her, grinning and licking his check. "What did I say...? A bunch of angels and gods won't be able to keep me away from you for too long."

"You already did manage to rise past the gods' powers...?" Killer asked in loving amazement, but Alexis only winked, grinning widely as she pulled him over her, his gigantic shaft pressing between her huge breasts as her hand squeezed his steel-hard member teasingly, stroking slowly up and down the top feet of his immense length.

"Say that you love me." Alexis asked hungrily, staring up at him with need even as she licked the head of his immense shaft with a long, loud and drawn-out growl of delight. "I so need to hear that from you again."

Killer smiled and bent forwards to kiss her and give her all of his love and all of his promises, but suddenly Gaia's voice came from behind him, saying firmly: "You are in the wrong bed, dear."

Killer turned in shock to look over his shoulder at the snow leopardess, confused, and Alexis slipped away from under him, quickly sliding away and looking ashamed and furious at the same time, and Killer understood, without any doubt remaining, that something was wrong when the ligeress walked out of the door instead of punching Gaia over.

"She... she was not... not Alexis." He observed in confusion, horror and rage, looking to the door and seeing the shape of his beloved wife change before she stomped out of the house, closing the door behind her.

Gaia was respectfully standing on the threshold of the bedroom's door, the light of the moon tracing her feminine shape.

"No, Lord Killer, she wasn't. I'm sorry." The goddess said quietly and honestly, her regret sincere and tangible in her tone. It didn't help Killer feel any better, but he couldn't help but appreciate Gaia's support, at least... before realizing with embarrassment that he was sporting a glorious, enormous and domineering erection before shy, quiet Gaia. It made him blush a bit even in his rage and disappointment, but there wasn't exactly anything he could do to hide his immense maleness, no matter how good willed he was about it. Even flaccid he struggled to fit himself inside his underwear. Hard, there was no way in hell to hide the godlike might of his member.

"What did just happen, Gaia...?" Killer asked after sighing quietly and rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, even if he had understood on his own by now.

"I sent Alcana away. She wants you, Lord Killer. She wants you to love her, to take her, to make her his... she wants to take Alexis's place. And wants it more than badly enough to use tricks like this." Gaia explained quietly, her voice low and soft. "It is... not correct of her. It is deceit, to assault you in your dreams with the look of your loved One. But..." She hesitated, looking towards him for a moment, before blushing so deep red that her cheeks almost glowed in the darkness. "I can call her back if you want. She'd more than gladly return."

"No, Gaia. Thanks for what you did... it was the right thing to do. No one can take Alexis's place in my heart, no one. Goddess or not, Alcana shouldn't even try." Killer replied quietly, sitting down on his bed, wishing for his massive erection to go away, and even more feeling the desire of giving it satisfaction, admittedly. It was one of the most awkward moments of his life thus far, he had to admit. "I was dreaming of Alexis... and suddenly she was there, in my arms... I..."

"It is understandable, Killer." Gaia replied gently, and he could swear that there was a smile in her voice.

"It is so late... were you still around? How did you know she was here...?" Killer asked curiously, and Gaia smiled warmly.

"Oh, Killer... I've known Alcana for all my life. I know how much she craves you, and I knew all too well she'd come here. So I waited for it to happen. Perhaps I shouldn't have, though..."

"No, no, absolutely. I'm thanking you for your prudence." Killer said immediately. "You saved me from a real sneak attack."

"Better so." Gaia said softly, and again Killer felt a smile in her tone, before she asked quietly: "You should get back to sleep now, or your already small time will all be lost." She paused, then looked at him for a long moment, her cheeks burning red, and she added: "Maybe you want me to stay...? She won't return, but..."

Killer smiled gently towards the shy Goddess, amused. He tried gauging her feelings from her voice, as it wasn't hard to notice that she definitely did have a wish to hear him saying to stay... but she was also nervous and embarrassed, a shy virgin not quite ready yet for her first experience. Saying yes would make her happy, but scared too. And he did not want it to happen.

"It has been an awkward night. I think it'll be better to get over it, both of us. Will we see each other tomorrow...?" He asked gently.

"Yes, Killer. I'll be around." Gaia replied warmly, smiling back with affection. "Sleep well, Amon-Ra."

Gaia walked away quietly, closing gently the door and making no noise at all, and soon Killer laid back down in his bed with a sigh.

It was complex to regain the lost sleep, especially since his testosterone was high and running. He almost regretted not accepting Gaia's proposal, despite knowing that he had done the right thing. And Alcana... a call and she'd be eagerly back, but Killer was angry at her. She did not want simple sex, nor did she want love. She wanted the supreme love. She wanted to take Alexis's place in his life.

And that will never happen. Never. Goddess or not, it does not matter. Alexis is the one I love and adore... and until Alcana does not understand and accept it, she'll have nothing from me.

He sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment, before touching his own gigantic cock with a hand, stroking his enormous length leisurely. His stamina and lusts were exceptional in normal conditions... there was no way his erection would go away in the current, rather extraordinary conditions.

He needed to let out some steam.

"I just hope I'll be able to use the cleansing spells Ira taught me, afterwards." He grumbled, knowing full well that, otherwise, he was going to have to work long and hard to clean up...