Ch. 110 – That Faulty Power of Yours

Ging, completely mesmerized by the suspended glitter of floating droplets and heavily weighed down by cheap bar liquor, remained entirely oblivious to the predatory force gliding up behind him. The blood-red aura pulsed like a dying star, radiating a suffocating heat that made the back of Rhys’s neck prickle. Rhys desperately wanted to wave his hands, to shove the short tiefling out of the danger zone before Ariadne’s scorching temper incinerated the bar entirely.

I’m sorry, man... I just can’t help you here, kid, Rhys thought grimly, his knuckles white against the dark oak counter.

Haha! You see it too, don't you?! Omen barked in his mind, still gloating with insufferable pride over his own dark humor.

Ging took a long, sloshing gulp from his glass and let out a heavy, embarrassed sigh. "I just... I really wanted to say that I’m sorry for the way I came at you sideways earlier with that stupid 'cumin' joke. I was just pushing all my own bad feelings onto you, man. From... dealing with my things at home with Seraphina." Ging stared down into his cup, scowling at his reflection. "Like, come on, Ging... it didn’t even freakin' rhyme!"

No, don’t do that now... Rhys lamented mentally. Now I REALLY have to feel like shit after this conversation.

"I can’t lie... I was a bit jealous," the tiefling admitted quietly, his shoulders slumping.

"Jealous?" Rhys couldn't help but ask, the word slipping out before he could filter it.

Beneath the sightline of the bar, Dione paid zero attention to the existential drama unfolding above her. Her lusher, newly pearlescent lips closed around him with rhythmic, agonizing devotion, her tongue swirling smoothly to take him in. The sheer sensation sent a sudden, thrilling shockwave through Rhys's system, exciting his body all over again despite the madness surrounding him.

The man has a newly evolved, literal goddess worshipping him under a bar, and he looks at the poor guy in front of him—who is currently being shunned by his own wife—and asks why the guy's jealous, the shadowy voice observed with a dark, mocking chuckle. It’s like the setup to a genuinely terrible joke.

Omen floated lazily beside the unsuspecting tiefling, puffing out his shadowy chest. Now, I’m funny—that’s already been established, the phantom declared arrogantly. But who HERE is the punchline of this bad joke? I know for a fact it’s not going to be me.

"Can you shut up?! I’m trying to focus!" Rhys blurted out loud.

Ging flinched, shrinking even smaller into his oversized collar. "Yeah... yeah, you’re right. My bad, Rhys," he muttered, misinterpreting the outburst entirely. "I did come over here while you were trying to work. I’ll just—"

Ging’s apology was abruptly cut short as Ariadne practically materialized out of the sparkling mist, stepping into the dim light of the bar with terrifying grace. Her pristine, polished housewife facade was cracking around the edges, exposing the razor-sharp villainess lurking beneath.

"So..." Ariadne purred, her red eyes burning into Rhys, "you didn’t go back to the kitchen to cook the next course, and instead decided we should all 'tango' out here?"

Ging was almost blown backward by the sheer, suffocating presence of the stunning red-haired woman. "My bad, miss... if I was in your way!" he stumbled over his words, putting his hands up defensively. "I... I didn't touch you, right?"

Below the counter, Dione tightened her grip on Rhys’s waist, her nails digging into his skin as she bucked her head down with renewed vigor. Her other hand slid downward, fanning the flames of her own mounting excitement as the divine energy radiated off her skin.

Rhys forced his expression into a smooth, unbothered mask, though his core was wildly pulsing. "What can I say? Plans change as life goes," Rhys remarked smoothly, his eyes locked onto Ariadne's furious gaze. "Like a bloodthirsty fox that chose to be tamed."

Ging let out a nervous, confused laugh. "What? What does that even mean, oh wise sensei?"

Omen simply thrust a shadowy thumb toward the clueless tiefling, shaking his head as if to say, 'Get a load of this guy.'

"I wouldn’t worry about it," Rhys said, quickly redirecting the conversation. "Ging, we were clearly talking about something here, RIGHT? So... what were you saying last?"

Dione kept working relentlessly down below, but suddenly, two twirling, crimson rings of Ariadne’s raw magic cut through the shadow under the bar. The ethereal red bands coiled tightly around Rhys’s sensitive core, constricting in perfect sync with Dione’s movements. Ariadne smirked wickedly from above as she saw Rhys's eyes dilate from the sudden, overwhelming spike in sensation.

"Rhys... I still want to know why you thought it was okay to put on this little light show for the whole room, when I haven’t even gotten a 'taste' yet?" Ariadne asked, her voice dripping with jealous venom aimed squarely at Dione.

Ging blinked, pointing a puzzled finger at her hand. "But... you have an appetizer in your hand right now?"

"Shut up, Ging," Ariadne snapped, not even bothering to glance at him.

Rhys knew immediately that she wasn't talking about the food. He opened his mouth to tell her to back off, but a sharp, ragged gasp caught in his throat as Dione hit a remarkably sensitive spot, amplified tenfold by Ariadne’s constricting red rings.

Ariadne’s devilish smirk broadened. "Actually... I think it’s completely fine if you continue your little chat out here. I’m just going to slip right back behind the counter with you while you talk... so I can be of more 'assistance.'"

Ging stood dumbfounded at her absolute audacity, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish as the striking woman casually bypassed the bar divider and melted into the shadowed space behind the kitchen partition. "How... how does she even know my name?" Ging asked, thoroughly baffled.

You REALLY don't want to know, Rhys thought bitterly, remembering with a spike of anxiety that if Ging sobered up for even two seconds, he might recognize Ariadne as one of the most dangerous retired villains in the district.

"You... you were saying something about being jealous, though?" Rhys pressed on, trying to keep the tiefling's attention locked on his own domestic drama.

Rhys fought with every fiber of his being not to let his voice stutter as he felt Ariadne smoothly drop to her knees directly beside Dione. The blood-red fox leaned in, whispering a quiet, surprisingly sincere compliment to Dione regarding her newly radiant, goddess-like glow. Then, without a second of hesitation, Ariadne joined in, taking him into her mouth alongside Dione.

The crimson magic rings coiled tighter around him, pulsing in absolute harmony with the relentless, dual onslaught below. Rhys’s mind entirely bent under the staggering wave of pure ecstasy. His knees buckled, and he doubled over the polished wooden counter once again just to stay upright.

Ging winced in deep, brotherly sympathy, shaking his head as he looked at his folded-over friend. "Man... that faulty power of yours really is unforgiving, huh?"