SOTBW - 101

Maximón stared straight at Najane with his left eye and conspicuously licked his long fingers with his tongue. His soft tongue tickled between his fingers, then sucked them with a bewitching sound.

A strange tickle stimulated Najane’s lower body. Najane desperately tried to pull her captured hand away. Then, Maximón roughly spread one of her buttocks and thrust his genitals in further.

“...Ah, aagh....”

Najane, with her head thrown back, trembled her waist. Her vagina was stretched to its limit as if being punished. Maximón pressed on relentlessly.

The water that had filled up to their chests had already splashed out more than half. Due to the fluids flowing from the intertwined genitals and hole, the space between their thighs was all slippery, and from where they were connected, there was a sound like hitting tender flesh with a fist.

Feeling the urge to urinate, Najane trembled with a shocked expression, then tightly closed her eyes. The inside of the hole where his genitals were inserted convulsed regardless of the body’s owner’s will. She felt a chilling sensation as if she might stop breathing at any moment.

With trembling hands, Najane barely grasped Maximón’s lower abdomen. Before she knew it, Najane’s face was covered with tears.

“...Maximón, wait, please, just a moment....”

Najane’s whispering voice trembled faintly, but Maximón ignored her plea and thrust his genitals with all his might, to the point where the muscles in his thighs rose up. Trapped in Maximón’s arms, Najane finally couldn’t bear the painful pleasure and screamed.

Each time he dug into the tightly constricting flesh, the sound of trampling muddy clay with shoes echoed. But he wanted to go further inside Najane. This wasn’t enough. He had inserted up to the root of his bandaged genitals, but it was still not enough.

Maximón spread her small buttocks wide with both hands. As he forcibly spread her labia minora, the swollen hole greedily swallowed his genitals to the root. Maximón muffled a groan at the intense pleasure that made his whole body tingle and buried his face in Najane’s shoulder. A sensation so intense that he felt he could die without regret dominated Maximón’s entire body.

He looked up at Najane’s eyes, which had lost focus. From her slightly parted lips, cute gasping sounds occasionally flowed out. Maximón kissed Najane and moved his hips again.

Najane instinctively embraced Maximón’s neck. Each time he moved his hips strongly enough to shake the bathtub, the pieces of flesh clinging to his genitals were roughly scraped away, stimulating Maximón.

Najane’s body was always warm and firm as if it wouldn’t break, but sometimes that firmness was like a lie, soft and infinitely fragile. The same was true of the hole that was wide open to fit Maximón’s genitals. It contracted to the point of extremely rejecting intrusion, but if Maximón moved his hips just a little harder, it would loosen as if it had never been wary, burning as if wanting to reach climax quickly.

Najane was truly a lovely woman.

The word “lovely” was the most perfect.

Maximón continued the kiss, sharing his saliva with Najane so that her throat wouldn’t become hoarse. Najane didn’t seem to dislike it and quenched her thirst with Maximón’s. There was no need to worry about anything else. Najane’s hole continued to flow like an inexhaustible spring, and he quenched his thirst with it.

As the warm bathwater that enveloped the two slowly cooled, Maximón rose from his spot with his genitals still inserted inside Najane. Najane, clinging to Maximón, felt his genitals fully entering her body and reached climax as it was. Her legs, pitifully embracing his thick waist, convulsed rapidly, unable to withstand the surging climax. Najane hugged Maximón’s neck and sobbed pitifully.

Maximón supported Najane’s buttocks with both hands and left the bathroom. Each time he moved, the place connected to Najane faintly trembled. The inside of the hole repeatedly contracted and relaxed as it pleased, stimulating Maximón. Najane continued to feel climax every time Maximón moved, and because of that, she trembled helplessly like a person out of her mind.

Maximón entered the bedroom and laid Najane down in front of the fireplace. His genitals, tightly bound with bandages, had turned bright red, enough to be mistaken for a lump of blood, but he didn’t care and slowly pushed the part of him that had slightly come out back into Najane. As his genitals were fully inserted, Najane’s back briefly arched.

Maximón kissed Najane’s soaked shoulders and chest, then gently moved his hips. As he thrust deeply, Najane’s lower abdomen convulsed incessantly, as if she had felt it again. Having exerted too much strength throughout her body, she could no longer endure Maximón’s hip movements and collapsed.

As her body, which had been rigidly firm with the determination to endure somehow, softened, Maximón grabbed Najane’s pelvis and began to thrust. Najane inevitably reached another climax and burst into tears, her eyes turning red. Once she reached a climax, her senses became so heightened that whether Maximón thrust hard or softly, she could only reach endless climaxes.

For quite a long time, lewd sounds echoed from the bedroom, whose door was only partially closed.

________________________________________

Gwyneth searched the Romsoa Knights thoroughly, looking for Belshua, and returned to the government office after hearing from the gatekeeper that Belshua had not yet returned. Belshua was frantically searching for something, pulling out books haphazardly from the Noctis government office library. The librarian seemed inclined to point out Belshua’s behavior but could only circle around him without saying a word.

Belshua’s expression was more desperate and anxious than ever. Like a bird that could only watch as it wanted to save a drowning child, or like someone being urgently chased by something, he had pulled out all the books related to Aron Noctis and was suffering from something invisible, reciting passages that theologians had not yet interpreted. The librarian, also aware of this, was hesitant to provoke Belshua’s mood.

It seemed that Belshua could no longer see anything. If it were the usual Belshua, he would have immediately noticed Gwyneth’s approach.

“I’m sorry, but could you leave for a moment? Also, I would appreciate it if you could temporarily restrict access to the library.”

“Yes, well, if it’s your request, Your Excellency...”

“Thank you.”

The librarian glanced at Belshua and quietly left the library. Now, only Belshua and Gwyneth were there.

Gwyneth deliberately made noise as she approached Belshua. Even then, Belshua was unaware of Gwyneth’s presence and was deciphering some record, pushing aside the books piled on the desk and unfolding a new ancient book. Belshua’s pupils, reading the jumbled records, evoked the eyes of a giant dragon that only appeared in illustrations in novels.

Belshua, not caring about his appearance, quickly skimmed through things related to Aron. It seemed that he wouldn’t even respond if spoken to. Taking a deep breath, Gwyneth snatched the book Belshua was reading.

Only when the book disappeared from his sight did Belshua finally raise his head. The book Belshua had been reading was about mana stone manufacturing left by Aron’s disciples.

“Are you planning to make mana stones now? But how in a world where not a single particle of magic remains?”

Gwyneth, closing the book, stared at Belshua. Belshua snatched the book back with a very nervous expression.

“Don’t disturb me and get out.”

Belshua’s voice was full of anger. But Gwyneth did not back down and instead burned the book. As soon as the flames, which could never be extinguished with water, touched the book, the old papers turned to ashes and fell.

Belshua, staring at the book that had instantly become ashes, slowly raised his head. His ordinary brown eyes, emitting quiet rage, quickly turned golden. Anyone else would have been terrified and frozen upon seeing that glare, but Gwyneth showed no sign of it and conjured a fire in his clenched palm.

“That was just a copy anyway. The real one is kept in the Vatican. Aren’t you showing your true colors too much just for burning a book that’s no longer needed?”

“Are you, a mere human, trying to provoke me?”

Belshua’s hair, which had been under the sunlight, quickly turned silver. His gleaming silver hair, amber-like golden eyes, and the sharp energy he radiated felt like a prickling sensation on the skin. This was no longer Belshua, but the world’s last dragon, Mahilen.

The one who had been commanded to guard the sealed northern ruins. However, having failed to protect the seal, this sinner had hidden among humans. The only being who knew the secrets of Astrun and Serith.

Gwyneth didn’t want to be at odds with Belshua, but after seeing Maximón’s eyes, she couldn’t back down. Belshua had never spoken of the past and had only watched when unexpected events occurred. The Church of the Holy Light had left Belshua alone because they thought that, despite being a fallen dragon, there was still a sense of justice remaining for the weak.

Gwyneth had once believed that as well. No matter what Belshua’s goals were, she had no doubt that every action had a valid reason for the world. But after seeing Maximón’s sclera turn yellow and his pupils fade to a pale gray, Gwyneth realized something was terribly wrong.

Until then, it didn’t matter whether Maximón was human or not. She had been willing to overlook his identity as long as he could protect people like Bastronia, who were as fragile as a candle flame, and those trembling in fear. But after seeing his eyes change to something like Serith, Gwyneth, as the Archbishop and a holy power wielder, had an obligation to understand what she had witnessed.

If the hero who protected the Fortress of Noctis was the same as the things crawling beyond the walls...

Gwyneth faced Mahilen with her own eyes twisted in agony.

“Is Maximón Elgort a Serith?”

The moment she asked the unanswerable question, Mahilen’s eyes, which had been boiling with hatred and anger toward humans, flickered and turned brown again. His beautiful silver hair, which had shimmered like a painful glare, returned to Belshua’s familiar form. Belshua quickly regained his composure. His expression at Gwyneth’s question looked as though she had struck a vital spot.

“...You’re asking a dangerous question. Do you even understand what that means?”

Belshua didn’t answer but changed the subject. However, this time, Gwyneth was no pushover. Without hesitation, she showed him the flames she had conjured in her palm.

“You’d better not try to dodge this like an eel. I need to know the truth, even if I have to threaten you.”

“...”

“Answer me, Belshua. What exactly is Maximón?”

A new Serith, you say? Belshua smirked at Gwyneth’s question, but quickly hardened his expression. Humanity still knew nothing about the true nature of Serith. They had no idea how cruelly and horrifically these creatures devoured the hopes of mankind.

Unfortunately, the evolution of Serith was not over. In the distant past, the monster that had terrorized magicians had killed without hesitation while taking on the appearance of those they loved.

Serith didn’t always feed on human flesh. At one time, they sustained themselves on the blood and flesh of animals. They were capable of suppressing their murderous urges and could think logically, interacting with humans and even conversing.

But the mere existence of Serith was inherently paradoxical. They could never have naturally come into being. Serith was a being that defied the laws set by the universe, and in order to survive, they inevitably brought destruction to the world. Even if the monster possessed intellect, it was only a matter of time before it went mad, as this was the inevitable order of things.

Belshua said nothing because he didn’t want to speak of those times. He didn’t wish to relive that period, and even if he did explain it, he didn’t expect Gwyneth to truly understand.

“I don’t have time to argue with you. Before it’s too late, we need to find the magic stone Aron hid.”

“Belshua.”

“We need to set things right before the situation worsens. Somewhere in Noctis...”

“Mahilen!”

Gwyneth cried out, her voice echoing like a scream, resonating throughout the spacious library. Belshua, who had been about to pull a new book from the shelf, slowly turned around. His lilac-colored eyes, reminiscent of Sylin’s, were filled with sadness and despair. Gwyneth was already certain of Maximón’s identity.

“...So he was a Serith.”

Gwyneth muttered with a trembling voice.

“Maximón wasn’t just an unusually strong human, nor was he something like you... he was just... just that horrible Serith.”

The whole world had fallen into despair because of Serith, and yet, she had been saved by one.

She had been worshiping and admiring that monster as a hero. Gwyneth let out a hollow laugh and pushed her hair back. As she faced the horrifying reality, tears slowly welled up in her eyes. It was full of things she couldn’t begin to understand.

Why is Maximón fighting against Serith, and why don’t the Serith recognize him as one of their kind and instead attack him? Could it be that Maximón has ever engaged in cannibalism? Could he have been hiding such tendencies without realizing it?

Maximón appeared to be a perfect human. There wasn’t the slightest resemblance to Serith. It was true that Maximón had abnormal attitudes and strength, but without a doubt, he was on the side of humans, and he was more proactive than anyone in defending the fortress. Even if defending the fortress was an act done for Edwin, he behaved in a way that was undeniably human.

Above all, Serith does not crave affection. But Maximón was obsessed with love. To resolve his extreme lack of affection, he kept Najane by his side, seeking someone who would love and admire him alone. Could this be called Serith behavior?

Gwyneth stared at Belshua with confused eyes. Belshua remained silent for a moment before putting the book he was about to read back in place.

“Swear by Sylin’s name, Gwyneth.”

“What? Now you want me to swear? Are you asking me to vow not to spread rumors about Maximón being Serith?”

Gwyneth sneered sarcastically.

“Do it if I tell you.”

Belshua simply ordered her to swear. Gwyneth clenched her teeth before placing her palm on her chest. No matter how strong-willed Gwyneth was, she couldn’t speak of what had been discussed here outside of this place. This truth would only bring misery to everyone.

Even Gwyneth herself couldn’t fully accept the truth and was overwhelmed with confusion. She could only wish that there was another truth. With that thought, Gwyneth swore by Sylin’s name.

“I swear by the name of the great Sylin, that I, Gwyneth Spello, will not reveal to anyone the things I have heard here today. If I break this oath and act recklessly, my soul will be cast adrift in the boundary of reincarnation, never to enter the cycle, wandering endlessly until it shatters.”

After finishing the oath, Gwyneth opened her eyes.

Belshua calmly stated the truth.

“Maximón is not Serith; he is Sainth.”

“Ah, not Serith, but Sainth... Wait, what? What did you just say?”

Gwyneth asked again in a dumbfounded voice. Belshua ignored her reaction as if he had anticipated it and continued his explanation in a calm manner.

“Serith is a name derived from Sainth. Over many years, it changed little by little, and what was once called Sainth became known as Serith.”

“Wait, wait! So, you’re saying Maximón, Maximón… is the reincarnation of Sainth Pollux?”

“No.”

Belshua sighed deeply.

“Among Astrun, only two people can be reincarnated: Sylin and Aron. Rakhshu and Sainth cannot be reincarnated.”

“Hey, this doesn’t add up. You’re saying Maximón is Sainth, but Rakhshu can’t be reincarnated, I get that, but why not Sainth...”

“Sainth didn’t die.”

Belshua gently closed his eyes as he sat on the edge of a table piled high with books. Every time he mentioned Sainth, complicated emotions stirred in his chest. These feelings were mostly jealousy and hatred.

Belshua couldn’t help but briefly recall the past.

After Sylin was forcibly selected for the border defense of the Schnellia Kingdom, Mahilen spent noisy days with what would later be called Astrun. At that time, monsters roamed the border, and there were eccentric magicians eager to test new magic, mercenaries obsessed with money and fighting, and criminals serving in the military to escape execution. Among them, Astrun stood out.

They were involved in countless terrible events, but there were also moments of enjoyment. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was true that they had spent good times with humans. And everyone in Astrun had believed that such days would continue.

Belshua quietly continued his story under the sunlight.

“In the age when magic was prevalent, there were three forbidden magics set by the Dragon Lords: creating life, resurrecting life, and interfering with reincarnation. But humans, with their shallow knowledge and limited bodies, broke these taboos and tried to reach the absolute realm. It was a reckless challenge—breaking the dice cast by the gods and defying the tumultuous constellations, striving for a life unbound by fate.”

Eternity, immortality, a world free from incurable diseases, unchanging love, and the freedom to guide one’s life in any direction.

How foolish, pathetic, and envy-inducing it was to see humans, who would not live even a hundred years, repeatedly collide their bodies against the great wall. Their attempt to prove that their birth was not a mere accident, through generations of questioning, was so fragile yet beautiful. Despite hating humans, Mahilen believed that there was something she wanted in the direction they were heading, so she taught them magic.

Alchemy became magic, and magic led to great advancements. Humans, undeterred by the threat of the raging monsters, began challenging the universe as Mahilen had predicted. To break the taboos and face what lay at the end. To prove that there was a reason for every existence in the world.

“Long ago, there was a magician. He was conceived through hypocrisy, never loved, and abandoned. But he was unfortunately a genius, born with unique magical power, and quickly gained recognition for his skills. He became the successor to the great sorcerer, but that was not enough for him. The magician, in order to prove that he was right, to see his parents, who had abandoned him, regret and weep, and to confirm that people loved him, challenged the taboo. And, as always, that challenge ended in tragedy.”

The great magicians now forgotten. They challenged the taboo and either vanished or went mad. No matter how genius they were, with human wisdom and bodies, they could not cross the absolute line set by the universe.

“Serith is a monster born as a consequence of humans breaking the taboo.”

“Please, please, Mahilen... I’ll do anything. I really can do anything. I won’t insist on becoming a magician again. I’ll do everything you say. I’ll understand why you erased my memories, I’ll forgive you, no, I’ll just forget! I’ll do that... So please, please, please... save Sainth...”

Belshua, recalling Sylin’s pitiful voice, instinctively twisted his face.

“And Sainth...”

Looking up, Belshua saw Gwyneth’s face and trailed off. Gwyneth, unable to process what Belshua had said, was staring blankly, looking lost. While it was better than making a fuss about not understanding, Belshua felt deflated by such a response.

“I’ll stop here. You look completely absent.”

Belshua looked down at the ash that used to be a book, then irritably turned away. This was also the reason Belshua hadn’t told Gwyneth about Astrun and Serith. How many people would truly understand this correctly? Even if Gwyneth accepted Belshua’s story, for a while, he would feel like he was wandering in a maze.

Sweeping the ash from the desk onto the floor, Belshua touched another book. Then, as he remembered Gwyneth’s action of burning the book, a surge of anger and frustration rose within him. Although he had long abandoned his dignity and nobility as a dragon, such rudeness was intolerable, especially from someone who knew Belshua’s true identity.

Belshua placed the book down irritably and looked back at Gwyneth. Gwyneth, as if waiting for this moment, immediately approached and bombarded Belshua with questions.

“So, according to you, is Astrun reincarnated? Ah, Sylin and Aron, are they here, I mean, in Noctis? Wow, I could meet them... Is this a dream? If it’s a dream you’re involved in, then it must be a nightmare... No, wait. So, is Maximón Serith or not? Why is Serith derived from Sainth’s name? He’s from Astrun, right? The hero who saved the world by fighting monsters! Does the Pope know about this? Surely he does, right?”

Gwyneth, standing uncomfortably close to Belshua, spilled out the questions he had been holding back. He seemed to have completely changed from his previous dazed expression, now glowing with curiosity. Belshua, avoiding Gwyneth, took a step back and grimaced as if he had seen something unpleasant.

“Apologize first, you arrogant, emotional bastard.”

Belshua’s voice was full of displeasure toward Gwyneth.

Gwyneth, noticing the ash underfoot, shrugged.

“No, no, it’s just... you never told me anything, and I was shocked and upset when I saw Maximón’s eyes like that... I was just taken aback.”

Mumbling, Gwyneth slowly shifted his foot away from the ash, folding his hands together.

“... Uh, sorry. I was a bit emotional. I’ll apologize. As I’m getting older, I’m getting angrier. Ah, I know you’re older than me... This is...”

Gwyneth quickly apologized with an awkward expression. Belshua, without responding, glared at him before moving to the opposite bookshelf. It seemed that Belshua was really angry. Gwyneth, looking troubled, followed him.

“So, are Astrun in Noctis or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Gwyneth stopped dead in his tracks, surprised.

Belshua, pulling out a volume from Aron’s complete diaries, responded coldly.

“Didn’t you already meet those two?”