Ch. 111 – What You Had Was Grit

The brief, flickering image of Lira's face flashed across the back of Rhys’s eyelids, a frail lighthouse in a raging sea of pure sensory overload. Gotta hold on... gotta keep thinking of Lira, he fiercely commanded himself, attempting to erect a mental wall against the sheer madness pulling him under.

"Yeah... it’s just the absolute worst," Rhys choked out to Ging, managing a strained, dry laugh that barely hid his ragged breathing.

Beside them, Omen dramatically threw its shadowy hands into the air in a posture of mock innocence—as if to say, 'Hey, don't look at me, I'm completely blameless here.' Without another word, the phantom turned away in complete disinterest, casting its glowing eyes out over the packed, glittering ballroom.

Always the absolute best help, bud, Rhys thought with searing sarcasm.

He dug his fingernails into the polished oak of the bar, doing everything in his power to keep his composure against the relentless storm of pleasure assaulting him from below. Ariadne and Dione had morphed into a horrifyingly synchronized, unstoppable duo. They worked his lower half with terrifying cohesion, each bringing her own distinct style to the assault. Ariadne was wild, possessive, and ravenous—taking her turns deep, her eyes burning with fiery dominance while her two twirling, crimson magic rings constricted and twisted around him in counterclockwise loops to magnify every single nerve ending. Dione, on the other hand, moved at a flawless, divine tempo that matched the precise rhythm of his hammering heartbeat, playing his body like a master flutist with effortless, breathtaking confidence.

Rhys had to mentally admit that Dione was unrecognizable from the woman he had first met. Every drop of her former meekness and quiet shyness had been completely washed away by the divine soul-bond, replaced by an unyielding, goddess-like devotion.

"I guess... that just shows me I shouldn't be too jealous of you then," Ging chuckled drunkenly, taking another slow, sloshing sip from his glass. "I was actually about to say earlier... how I never really told you that I used to have a little bit of envy for you, Rhys. For... Omen."

Ging whispered the shadowy alter-ego's name softly, leaning over the bar top.

Can he seriously not tell me this right now?! Rhys screamed internally, his brain short-circuiting in utter disbelief. He’s gotta be lying!

Omen let out a booming, arrogant laugh from the counter, staring out at the vibrant crowd. It makes total sense you were far too blind to see the obvious little cracks surrounding your cozy little domestic life here.

"What does that mean?" Rhys blurted out loud before he could stop himself.

"Um... it means that all those times, back when I was still going by Devil-boy... I was hating on you because you had the one thing I didn't have," Ging explained, misinterpreting Rhys's question entirely as he stared down at his floating ice cubes.

Lira, Rhys thought instantly, assuming the tiefling was referring to his heroic, high-status wife.

No, stupid! Just shut up and listen! Omen chastised him in his mind, though the phantom was already beginning to drift away from the bar, its shadowy form drawn toward the ballroom as if spying some brand-new, wicked endeavor to entertain itself with.

Beneath the bar, the two women pushed their assault to an agonizing new peak. Dione raised her chest, her newly enlarged, pearlescent breasts tightly engulfing Rhys’s groin, cushioning him while she bucked against him. Ariadne joined in seamlessly, her warm tongue trailing up his length while her crimson rings kept up their rhythmic, counterclockwise constrictions. The sheer sensory deluge sent electric ripples crashing through Rhys's thoughts, threatening to wipe his mind completely blank.

"What... what was that?" Rhys gasped out, forcing his foggy brain back to the tiefling standing in front of him.

Ging looked up, his slurred voice growing earnest. "I said... what you had was simple. It was grit."

Yeah... my life is real gritty. Real shitty, I'll tell you that much, Rhys thought glumly, his knuckles turning white against the wood.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the shadowy phantom completely abandon the bar, disappearing into the sea of dancing guests.

"I'm really not as cracked up as everyone says I am, Ging," Rhys forced out, trying to sound grounded despite the waves crashing through his spine. "Omen is completely overrated... and that’s coming straight from the man himself."

If it weren't for the two women working absolute magic beneath the counter, Rhys might have been sharp enough to instantly read the subtle shift in the tiefling's face. But it took a few agonizing, breathless seconds of soft slurping, wet friction, and tight constrictions for him to finally register Ging's expression.

It was absolute disappointment.

Ging visibly deflated, genuinely hurt to hear such self-deprecation from the very man he had just admitted to looking up to—literally, given their height difference.

Dammit... the dark figure is supposed to be the arrogant jerk, not me, man, Rhys chastised himself with a wave of guilt. "Look... all I mean is, look at me. I’m just doing what I can over here with what I have. Honestly... that’s basically all I’ve done my entire life."

As Rhys spoke those grounded words, he gestured downward with his hands and naturally cast his gaze down beneath the bar divider.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of Ariadne looking up at him with pure, unadulterated devotion in her fiery red eyes, both women clearly listening to every single word he uttered. Dione, however, was positioned with her back slightly turned, her lusher, newly transformed goddess-physique on full display as her large, pearlescent rear faced upward toward him in the dark. The sheer, jaw-dropping sight nearly knocked the remaining breath clean out of Rhys's lungs.

I will make do... echoed dumbly through his fried brain as he caught sight of her glistening wetness taking him back in.

Rhys snapped his head back up instantly, only to find Ging staring at him with a broad, drunken, knowing grin.

"Ahh! What... what is that face for?!" Rhys asked, horrified that the tiefling might have spotted something.

Ging let out a boisterous laugh, pointing an unsteady finger at Rhys. "That right there! THAT is exactly why you’re the guy everyone should be jealous of! You don't even see it! You don't even notice how much of yourself you put into your work! You just stand there and say, 'I just have to make do,'" Ging mocked, deepening his voice into a heroic, stoic imitation. "Just like a true, genuine hero!"

While Ging went on his passionate, slurred rant, Rhys’s eyes involuntarily darted back down beneath the counter. Ariadne was looking up at him lovingly, resting her chin comfortably on the curve of Dione’s large rear cheek. Catching Rhys’s eye, the blood-red fox framed her hands into a cute heart shape against Dione’s skin and silently mouthed four distinct words:

“He’s right... MY. TRUE. HUSBAND.”

Rhys’s internal operating system suffered an immediate, total hard reboot.

He couldn't even summon the mental energy to call out to Omen in his mind. All he could hear echoing through his thoughts was the phantom's distant, mocking voice: 'Man... you're just too good and you don't even know it.'

Dione took him completely inside once more with a smooth, desperate buck of her hips, and it took every ounce of Rhys’s remaining willpower not to let an outright moan burst from his throat in front of his friend.

"I know, man... I know," Ging continued, nodding heavily as if he and Rhys were sharing a profound, deeply emotional bonding moment. "It’s really touching when you finally realize you’ve just been way too hard on yourself because the world got you down! You just gotta get real hard right back on the world, man! Just take it right in your hands and make it yours!"

Ging was in the deep end of a full-on, drunken inspirational tirade. Rhys, trapped in an intoxicating trance, was barely processing the words, yet somehow felt insanely egged on by the tiefling's fiery speech. His hands moved on pure, primal instinct—he reached down beneath the bar top, literally taking the "world" into his hands by grabbing Dione's soft, voluptuous hips, and began giving it all right back to her, hard.

Dione let out a muffled, divine gasp, bucking up beneath the bar with frantic, wild abandon. Rhys held on tightly with both hands, his hips moving in a rhythmic, powerful cadence to keep up with her divine momentum.

As their bond reached a fever pitch, Dione's atmospheric magic flared once again. The suspended, sparkling water droplets hovering across the grand ballroom began to shimmer wildly, matching her divine excitement. A sharp, rhythmic clapping sound echoed from beneath the bar as they met, but the loud, bass-heavy track blaring from Vespera's DJ booth completely drowned it out, masking their reckless rhythm.

Out on the dance floor, the entire room came alive. The floating, crystalline water droplets began to gently cascade downward like a meteor shower. Instead of soaking the dancing guests, the divine moisture dissolved into pure, golden energy upon touching their skin, leaving the entire crowd feeling wildly invigorated, euphoric, and full of sudden stamina.

Ariadne looked up from below, her red eyes gleaming with possessive pride. She could see the sudden, dangerous shift in Rhys's gaze—the raw, unbridled fire replacing his usual stressed hesitation. She absolutely adored the fact that she and Dione were the ones driving him to this thrilling edge.

Reaching down with one hand, Rhys palmed the back of Ariadne’s head, drawing her face closer into the heat as he accelerated his tempo, bucking deeper into Dione with relentless speed.

Ging, completely spun around now, was rambling loudly to the empty air behind him. "And another thing! When life gives you lemons... you don't just make lemonade, Rhys! You demand to see life's manager!"

Suddenly, Rhys's hyper-focused vision caught a new figure emerging through the glittering, falling light of the ballroom.

Walking straight toward the bar was the breathtaking, golden Earth Genasi—Seraphina's close friend, and another prominent figure in their social circle. She looked absolutely stunning in a sweeping emerald-green dress, featuring high slits on both sides that showcased her radiant, flawless golden skin. She seemed to shine far brighter than usual tonight, though Rhys's power-boosted, Omen-enhanced vision couldn't tell if it was magical or just her natural beauty.

And walking right behind her, short, wide, and heavily armored, was her stout dwarf husband, Durin.

Oh, this is just fantastic... Rhys thought somberly, a wave of dark amusement washing over his overwhelmed mind. The whole damn band is getting back together now.