Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

OLIVAR D'SHENKO FROTHED at the mouth. His eyes were bulbous in his head. His pupils dilated like he'd chewed on way too much mushrooms. He stared at Lady Ivoria. And couldn't quit staring. The third champion of the [Phoenix Arc] was lost in the allure of the wildling professor.

And not he alone.

His teammates, also hypnotized in her aura, and the lavender fucking smell of her, gathered around the enticing nymph, eager to smell more and touch her radiant wet skin.

"Yes, my lovelies. Come to me."

Lady Ivoria smiled at each of them when they were close enough. No one said a word. But fired eyes, thundering hearts, chemical pants—as well as wet pussies and hard cocks did the talking. Lady Ivoria brought her beautiful face close to Israfel. To Olivar. And to Gretchen.

She teased them with the promise of a scorching french kiss. Only to pull away at the last breathy second, drawing them in even more.

Under the rains of the cave, the air was thick with the need of two boys and a girl. And when she felt two spearing cocks rub her naked belly, and Gretchen spoon her hard from behind, Lady Ivoria blinked and whispered coyly,

"Fun's over, kids."

And then she pushed them down the plateau.

"Wait. What—" Rafel tried, but he was already in the air. Falling. Plunging for the deep end. The rapids of the waterfall took him under.

SPLASH!

He crashed into the running pool dozens of feet below. The frigid lake broke whatever remained of the spell the wildling tutor had cast. Olivar and Gretchen came hurtling in not long after. SPLASH! SPLASH! Rafel moved his legs as he swam for the surface.

As he broke out, he rubbed his face with his hands to clear his vision. He hated the cold water seeping through his pants. An icy lake and testicles? Not good.

"Olivar!" He called. "Gretchen! Are you guys okay?"

His voice rippled across the sloshing water as two more heads broke through the water surface. The three teammates swam for the near shore. They clambered out wet, and Olivar retched for a few seconds. The waterfall still crashed as a near solid rain into the pool they had just dragged out from, and Olivar resembled a weasel caught in a storm.

Rafel raised his eyes up the stone mountain to see Lady Ivoria still alluringly nude. She waved little fingers at them.

Gretchen frowned on the small beach.

"It was a trick. To get us out of our heads. A fucking mind game. And we failed." She deadpanned.

Olivar was still cramped up on the splotchy sands. If Gretchen was mad, he was flaming off the top of his head. Rafel looked on the both of them as Gretchen moved over to rub his back and calm him. Vampires weren't great swimmers. But moreso, shifters. Olivar coughed and said when he could finally speak, "We should have known.

A bitch that hot wouldn't be caught bathing naked under a fucking waterfall."

Rafel was too mad to correct Olivar for calling their professor a bitch. Her oiled titties tried to enter his mind again, but he grinded his teeth and shook his head. If Gretchen didn't like women, perhaps she might've been their earth rod—to lock them in from falling for Lady Ivoria's catty seduction.

[DING!]

The leaderboard was just in time to announce their loss. "Fuck." Rafel growled, listening to it.

[Phoenix Arc loses two points!]

[Pegasus Arc gains five points!]

[Raven Arc gains six points!]

As it turned out, while they were shamelessly slutting out their hearts for their hot professor, Bolta had decapitated a mutated 5ft coyote with her handy dagger, and Rosamunde had crossed a river of crocodiles; both gaining the points for their teams. [Griffin Arc] was last behind with no points gained. They hadn't lost—but they hadn't gained any either.

Much to the dismay of their glittery-faced corner of Gold faction popularity. That the winners of last season's Hunt were dragging back with zero points was certainly a shocker.

Gilded flags had dropped in the amphitheater.

Israfel's name fell from the shiny top of the leaderboard. Gretchen dropped to eighth. And Olivar to ninth. "I'm next to fucking Casperus? Hell nah!" Olivar moaned. In his eyes was desperation to change his status.

Currently, the [Pegasus Arc] were rocking it, with a total of 11 points. The Reds were a smidge behind at 9 points.

"No more fucking detours!" Rafel stood on the shore and shook out the water from his clothes.

They had to find that damned stag now. It'd settle the score. Not to mention, it was twenty one more minutes to game time. If Bolta remained where she was, at the gold plaque of the leaderboard, Pegasus Arc would go home with Athena's [Epic] Hunting Bow. The trophy of the Great Hunt.

Pulling themselves up from the shell of failing in the face of googly eyes—in Gretchen's defense, their professor was really fucking sexy—Rafel and his teammates hurried from the shore of that cold lake, leaving behind all thoughts of smoky Lady Ivoria as they rushed into the clave of pines toward their next obstacle. The champions of Phoenix Arc didn't have to walk too far to encounter it.

For about a mile away from the seduction of a bathing maiden, they encountered a much harsher foe.

A minotaur.

The man-bull creature stood facing away, to the east. The horns were far more grotesque than any fiend, and the mass of wild black hair draped like a cloth from its mighty chest down to loins and a large pair of goat legs.

It was freakish tall, and wielded a club, as dark beastly eyes scanned the forest scape for intruders.

"I thought they normally dwell in labyrinths." It was Olivar who spoke. Gretchen shushed him. In the lead, Rafel turned back and signed to them, of the expert opinion that they avoid the minotaur and press on to locate the jewel of the Hunt; it was fifteen to game time now.

The three champions tiptoed in the brush around it, masking their scent in the leaves. But then Olivar stepped on a twig.

—crack!

"Shit." Gretchen sighed.

The minotaur swept around with black eyes and a roar. "GRRRRAAAR!" It came pounding clear across the woods to their hiding position; the club was already high in the air, ready to swing down and destroy the champions. Gretchen's fangs ripped into her mouth. Searing claws tore out the sinews of Olivar's fingers. But Rafel held both of them back. He said, "no.

Not like this. We'd save ourselves a lot of time if we avoid a blood bath."

"But. . .it's coming for us," Gretchen offered, her scarlet eyes staking the minotaur's approaching bulk—mostly its heaving neck.

Rafel stood tall. "I have a plan."

Only three feet remained between the minotaur's club and their heads when Rafel pronounced in a great commanding voice. "Peitho! Summon me the Gladorium. Play a Minotaur's Lullaby!"

[Ding!], came the mana-rippling response.

[GLADORIUM: Realm of Song equipped!]

[INSTRUMENT: Violin of Artemis.]

[MYSTIC: Hypnotic Sleeping Spell.]

A slow calming music began playing from fuck knows where. But in his pounding strides, the minotaur slowed and listened. Its large bull head stopped frothing for blood and by the time it finally loomed over Rafel and his teammates, the man-bull stood completely still. The song played in the forest. The minotaur's club dropped to the earth. And the hairy creature fell in a heap at Rafel's feet.

Sure enough, it began snoring loudly.

[Ding!]

[Phoenix Arc gains fifteen points for besting the mythical Minotaur.]

[Phoenix Arc gains ten points for manifesting the HALLOWED realm of song.]

And the notifications came on and on. "Hold on, guys. Look!" Gretchen pointed to the eastward area in the clearing the minotaur had been facing. Right there, on a small outcropping stood the whitest deer each had ever seen. The fur was soft as snow blush. The jewel of the Hunt.

Alas, the sleeping minotaur at their feet had been its guardian. Rafel stepped over the black snoring bulk, and moved to claim the prize for his Arc.

The viewing screens at the amphitheater showed it all; the exact moment the heroes—and heroine, of the [Phoenix Arc] came upon the White Stag. As the spectators clambered to the giant holograms for a closer look, even the Headmistress of the witch Academy, high on her Romanesque dais, leaned in to watch the champions of the Blood Faction take the Hunt's enticing win.

"Hello there, beauty." Olivar approached first.

Since he was the shifter among the team, Rafel and Gretchen stayed back for him to go first. The stag, however mystical was still an animal, and being the vampiress and demon that they were, Rafel knew he and Gretchen just might spook their prize into taking off. "There we go. . ." Olivar coaxed the mythic deer into his embrace.

He hugged the spotless muzzle of the stag before beckoning his teammates close. Rafel held back but Gretchen moved to pet the animal. It allowed her, chewing into the crunchies she held in her open palm. Rafel watched her caress the glorious immaculate fur.

The stag was like a holy sacrifice.