Chapter 49 Waifu.

Chapter 49: 49 Waifu.

Explaining that we’d fallen into an impromptu game of fetch took a bit longer than I think any of us would have anticipated.

Part of that was owed to the fact that I quickly started justifying it by going into how effective it was proving as a training activity, but the real culprit for overcomplication was Ayra.

"Master forced me to play with him like his personal pet," she declared, fanning her face as fake tears started lining the corners of her eyelids. "If I didn’t do as he requested, he said he’d strip me down to nothing and use my tight little pussy to satisfy his sadistic urges, rutting me like a beast as he brutalized my decadently contoured bottom."

Elsa raised a single questioning brow at me and scanned me from head to toe. "Is this true?"

"What in your history with her would move you to believe anything she said?" I asked genuinely.

We made our way back toward the house when it was still a bit before noon.

The rush from our training session continued to course through my bloodstream while Elsa kicked her feet as I carried her and Ayra bounded around us with her apparently endless battery of energy.

"Did you see the way Master moved?" she gushed, skipping circles around us as I walked. "The way he threw his blade through the air! Whoosh! And then recalled it right back to his hand! Arf! Simply magnificent! Magnificent and breedable!"

"I certainly did see," Elsa replied from her cozy position cradled in my arms.

She had dramatically collapsed after watching us train for only thirty minutes, declaring herself too exhausted to possibly walk another step with an evil look in her eye as she held her arms up to me expectantly.

She continued to fire smug looks at Ayra while nuzzling closer against my chest for the duration of the short trip back. "His technique already surpasses warriors I’ve seen with decades more training. Your natural talent is extraordinary, my handsome champion."

"I’ll take it, thanks," I said while adjusting her slight weight. My enhanced strength made carrying her practically effortless, though she constantly shifted into new positions that required me to readjust my grip.

I couldn’t shake the feeling she was doing it on purpose, like she was trying to make me move to draw attention to me carrying her just to continuously gloat to a certain canine companion.

She traced a finger along my jawline. "I merely speak the truth. Even the finest warriors in my father’s guard would envy your progress."

"The System helps him learn faster than normal humans could," Ayra added, giving her a dirty look as the princess nuzzled my chest.

Elsa scoffed. "The System chooses only those already worthy of its power. It amplifies what already exists within. A hero is a hero, and our man is a hero."

She pressed her lips near my ear. "You were already exceptional long before we arrived, my darling champion. The System merely recognizes what the rest of us can plainly see."

"The warriors we knew weren’t as sexy either," Ayra added with a flirtatious grin that prominently displayed her canines. She darted in closer to place a wet, glancing lick on the back of my neck.

It was way better than her peeing on my foot, I figured, and I was more or less at the point where I just accepted these shenanigans as normal and fine.

The house was the only thing in front of us soon enough.

We left the lights on inside and the door locked—I’d kept the porch light on since before my magical girlfriends ever showed up.

Lately, my worry portfolio had impressively diversified.

Currently my anxieties were dominated by suspicious sheriffs and the looming threat of waking up tomorrow with yet another demihuman hotty claiming interdimensional dibs on my increasingly spoiled dong.

"Home sweet home," I sighed as we reached the back door. "Take off your boots before we get in the kitchen, please."

Ayra bounded ahead to open the door, but Elsa made no move to get down from my arms. Once we got inside, I set her down.

"Wow, alright then," she huffed as her feet touched the floor. "I hadn’t been informed that you hate me and my happiness."

"Shaddup, pointy-ear Barbie," I muttered.

She immediately undid her loose, chunky braid and removed a jacket with dramatic grunts of effort that filled the entire foyer. "This constrictive metal cage is practically fusing with my perfect, nubile skin," she complained, struggling with a clasp. "I’m positively drowning in sweat."

"You barely moved, and it’s September," I pointed out while taking off my own jacket.

She flipped her long golden hair over her shoulder. "A princess exerts herself in other ways—such as by being exceedingly graceful and beautiful at all times, and knowing that her elegance is constantly being viewed and appreciated. It’s immense pressure," she informed me with a cute little huff and puff through her nostrils punctuating the statement.

"Our bodies are more refined, more responsive to atmospheric conditions. The slightest change in temperature affects us profoundly."

"If I may translate, the princess means to say she is insufferably dramatic," Ayra whispered, already down to her own undergarments.

The fact that she didn’t even wear armor and instead had a shawl, a skirt, and a shirt as her main ensemble, yet she still chose to strip, was something I thought about addressing—but her tits were too good for me to complain.

Elsa shot her a sharp glare but notably didn’t dispute the translation. Soon we were all down to our underwear.

The fact that we were all so unfazed by stripping down in front of each other after such a short time was something that I was sure every other man I knew would want to fund scientific studies about.

"A bath would be heavenly right now," I suggested, eyeing the dirt on my skin accumulated from our outdoor training session. "Nothing better than washing away the morning’s hard work, I say."

"The tub won’t fit three of us comfortably," Ayra said with a pout that transformed her entire face. "Elsa can just use her magic."

"I for one absolutely refuse to bathe without Sir Grey present to watch and aid me," Elsa added while studying her nails. "The entire purpose would be lost."

I suppressed a sigh. Their steadfast refusal to clean up without me had become an established pattern—one my inner neat freak found concerning, even while other parts of me celebrated the arrangement.

Yeah, they could and ultimately did use Elsa’s elf magic to refresh themselves as I strode toward them. Their way was effective enough in terms of smell and, er, taste—but a part of me trusted baths more than lazy waifu magic.