Chapter 61 Soapy.

Chapter 61: 61 Soapy.

Would you like to allocate them now? {YES / NO}

"Yes," I said, temporarily distracted from the brewing catfight.

Both women immediately forgot their argument, eyes wide with excitement.

"You’ve leveled?" Elsa asked, her breathing still labored.

"To eighteen," I confirmed.

The display changed:

[ ALLOCATE YOUR ATTRIBUTE POINT ↓↓↓

• Strength: 18

• Dexterity: 16

• Constitution: 15

• Intelligence: 10

• Wisdom: 10

• Charisma: 9 ]

I studied my attributes.

With two people more experienced with the System in front of me, I figured now was as good a time as any to satisfy my curiosity about something.

"Hey, can I ask you two something? What’s the point of Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma? I never feel smarter when I put points in Intelligence, or more likable with Charisma."

The girls looked at each other with pitying expressions, like it was so damn tragic how little I knew about these basics.

In a way I guess it was.

"They don’t work quite the way you might expect," Elsa explained. "They unlock different abilities tied to them, particularly those with magical aspects."

Ayra nodded vigorously. "Most importantly, you need level 10 in each stat before you can be assigned your class. So if you don’t have Charisma, Intelligence, or Wisdom specifically at ten right now, I’d suggest fixing that as soon as possible."

Elsa frowned at her friend. "Where did you hear that? I’m not familiar with such a requirement."

Ayra’s ears twitched proudly. "I used to dig holes in the garden outside Seer Morvain’s hut when she was teaching Juniper about System lore. I have excellent hearing."

Elsa nodded with a look of recognition. "Ah, yes. Seer Morvain was very proud of her garden. She really hated you."

"Yes, she did."

I looked back at my stats. "Charisma’s my only sub-ten attribute. If what Ayra says is true, that might be what’s holding me back from getting a class."

"Wisdom isn’t a terrible choice either," Elsa suggested. "It often unlocks perception-based abilities useful to your fighting style."

"But if Ayra’s right about the class requirement, Charisma makes more sense right now," I reasoned. "Charisma it is."

I mentally selected Charisma, feeling the attribute point lock in.

[ Attribute increased: • Charisma ↑↑↑(Now 10) ]

Before I could even check my skill options, a new notification appeared:

[ CLASS UNLOCKED: °Cavalier

(A Cavalier is a specialized warrior whose combat prowess is enhanced through the bond with a trusted mount.

Your Skill Point has been automatically allocated to your primary class ability: Bind Greater Steed.) ]

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "It worked! I got a class!"

Both women squealed and jumped up and down.

The wholesomeness of their excitement for me doubled my elation at the moment, and I smiled at them.

Also, the way they jumped made their boobs bounce, so I wanted a second to take that in.

"What is it, Master? What did you get?" Ayra asked, hopping up and down. "Let me guess—Sadist! Punisher! Torturer! Rump-Smacker!"

"Cavalier," I read. "Apparently I’m supposed to be good at mounted combat. The System just spent my skill point on something called ’Bind Greater Steed’—some kind of summoning ritual that calls forth a permanent mount."

Elsa clapped her hands together. "How wondrous! A noble class indeed for our handsome champion!"

"It suits you," Ayra agreed, her tail wagging frantically beneath her skirt. "Strong, reliable, protective. But it doesn’t quite capture your love of abusing me."

Before I knew it, I found myself sandwiched between them.

They’d apparently taken my class unlock as a perfect excuse for a three-way kiss.

Their lips met mine from both sides, turning the awkward angle into a raunchy group display of affection.

I obviously found it hot how their tongues wrestled each other’s as they battled for access to mine.

When they finally pulled back, leaving streams of saliva connecting us all, both wore similar expressions of satisfaction.

"I believe this calls for a celebration," Elsa declared. "Perhaps that frozen dairy confection you’ve been hiding in the cold storage box?"

"You mean the ice cream in the fridge? I was saving that for an emergency because it’s a seasonal flavor—pumpkin spice," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Ayra’s eyes went huge and pleading. "This is clearly an emergency, Master. You’ve achieved your class! That’s monumentally important!"

I immediately gave in. "Fine. Ice cream it is."

Back at the house, we gathered around the kitchen table with bowls of ice cream.

The girls watched me closely as I examined the new ability description.

Every few seconds one of their tattoos would light up and I’d just choose to ignore it.

"So how do you summon this steed?" Elsa asked between spoonfuls.

Her eyes rolled back in her head every single time, which made me chuckle under my breath.

"Let me see," I said, closing my eyes and focusing on the new ability I could feel within me.

Nothing happened.

I opened my eyes to find both women staring at me expectantly.

"Maybe it doesn’t work indoors?" Ayra suggested.

I checked the ability description more carefully. "Ah. It says I must be alone and in a wide open space to perform the ritual."

Both women’s expressions immediately darkened.

"Alone?" Elsa repeated with disgust, dropping her spoon to clang jarringly against her bowl.

"That’s unconscionable! Unthinkable! Alone, without you, at night, when we need you most? And what will become of us, pray tell?!"

"The System has some nerve," Ayra agreed, her ears flattening.

"Trying to put space between us like a—I simply cannot think of anything or anyone who would do something so evil! Not even you, Master! Is the System trying to protect my luscious bottom from Master’s wrath. Pah-tooey! I spit at the absurdity!"

I held up my hands to calm them. "It’s probably just for the initial summoning. Bear with me, I’ll be right back."

They let me go after a few whimpers and whines.

Outside on the gravel driveway, I closed my eyes again, trying to focus on the new ability.

The night air was still.

The only sound I heard was some chirping crickets.

A prompt appeared in my mind:

[ To complete the ritual, visualize the last beast you mounted. ]

I couldn’t help but laugh at the phrasing.

The last "beast" I’d mounted? My mind instantly went to the unhinged, clingy pizza delivery girl I’d hooked up with a while before Elsa arrived.

Probably not what the System had in mind.

Focusing harder, I realized the last actual steed I’d ridden was probably a pony at the zoo when I was maybe seven years old.

God, I hoped that wouldn’t be my permanent mount—some ancient, arthritic pony that couldn’t even carry my weight.

Fuck that—more like undead.

That was two decades ago at this point.

As I concentrated, I felt a strange energy flowing through me, centered on the tattoo over my heart.

The runes pulsed with a warm sensation—like the urge to pee, but my bladder was right over my heart.

That sounds weird, but that’s what it felt like, at least until it passed.

Another message appeared:

[ Binding Complete. Your steed will find you. ]

"That’s it?" I said aloud, looking around the empty driveway.

No magical horse appeared in a flash of light. No dragon descended from the sky.

Just... nothing.

I shrugged and sighed.

After waiting several more minutes, I gave up and headed back inside. The girls were already—or still—standing anxiously by the door.

"Oh, he’s back! Did it work?" Ayra asked, rising to her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

"Sort of," I replied. "I completed the ritual, but it just said ’Your steed will find you.’ No actual steed showed up."

Elsa moved toward me with her arms raised expectantly. "Perhaps it takes time. Ritual magic often does."

I scooped her up without even thinking about it and held her small body in my arms.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, nestling against my chest.

Ayra whimpered, so I lowered myself by bending at the knees and allowed her to crawl onto my back.

"Now," Elsa declared regally, "I demand to be carried to the tub, stripped naked, and sensually bathed in a scented bubble bath. The labors of victory require proper cleansing, and my superior skin and flaxen hair deserves attention after all this excitement and exertion."

"You—you didn’t do anything," Ayra muttered quietly from my back in utter disbelief at the princess’s shamelessness.

I sighed but still had to grin.

"Alright then, let’s get soapy."