192: Forge of Champions
Perhaps, Beatrice should not have been surprised when she found a door in their room that led to a bathroom with a shower in it. After all, what kind of wish-fulfillment world would not have ways for a sex-seeking succubus to clean herself up after an indulgent foursome?
A tiny room, with little more than a toilet and a small space with uninspired curtains that separated the tiled shower space from the rest of the bathroom. However, Beatrice was surprised even more pleasantly when she turned the red metal shower knob and felt the heat from the hot water pouring from the shower head that made the room quickly fill with steam.
Beatrice wondered what made this instant supply of hot water a reality. Was it some powered heating that used wood, gas, or coal, or was it instead several water and fire elemental magicians that were slaving away in some dungeon to provide some basic necessities for the city? How many magicians would it take to provide for a city of this size? Maybe not as much as Beatrice would imagine. Maybe it was only some select few districts or buildings that had the privilege of hot water and pipes for it to flow through?
However, in hindsight, it made sense that this city would have ways for the inhabitants to properly shower and clean themselves. Otherwise, the carefree sex would quickly become disgusting if every person in the city reeked of semen, shit, and piss. Recalling her encounter in an alley, Beatrice should have noticed how strange it was strange for her to not notice any foul smells from the girls or the alley itself. Or from the citizens they passed as they walked through the depraved, free-for-all streets of Klapsus.
Beatrice washed her naked body under a pleasant stream of warm water, enjoying a different kind of heat as she spread the liquid soap across her skin. The soap foamed easily under the stream of water, and Beatrice realized that, for some reason, the soap smelled of peaches. Beatrice couldn’t help but feel odd that the city had had a supply of alcohol, soap, and hot water would still have to resort to unwitting cannibalism for survival.
“Hey!” Beatrice heard Ember’s voice behind her. The succubus turned around and saw her naked bodyguard move the yellowish curtains and step into the shower space to also wash her body.
“I must say, you might end up impressing me,” Ember said as she took the soap and applied it to her own enticing body that she submitted to cock and tail mere minutes ago. “Your powers are growing with a speed I have not witnessed yet.”
“How do you view my chances in those Forge of Champions you’ve mentioned?” Beatrice asked.
“If you’re hoping to get by on just your sexual prowess… It might be enough for you to get through the fodder, but I do hope you develop your combat potential just as quickly as you do your sexual one,” Ember said.
“Tell me more about this ‘Forge of Champions’,” Beatrice said to Ember while calmly finishing washing the soap off her body. After so much sex, the succubus was able to remain calm even in the presence of such a hot young woman, that just a week ago she would only dream of simply viewing naked, let alone fucking. At least for now, the succubus was able to concentrate on her next goal. And as eager as Beatrice was to test and grow her combat abilities, as confident as she was in her chances in dealing with nearly any challenge that was thrown at her in this world, Beatrice still wanted to know what exactly she was getting into.
“What is even there to say?” Ember said, pausing for a moment. With an expression and tone of voice as nonchalant as one would have when describing the rules of a poker game, the redhead said, “It is simply another way for the city to get rid of over-eager, over-confident idiots that are desperate for cheap fame and glory. Countless faceless S.E.C.R.E.T. guild failures, those that wish to prove something and rise in status above a no-name, forgettable, dismissible peasant that no one would even notice disappearing or outright suicidal fools, they all enter the competition, where only a single champion is crowned.”
“Fights to the death, then?” Beatrice asked.
“They often end up as such, even though it is not a requirement,” Ember said. “But there has never been a single Champion that had not drenched his or her hands in blood. Weakness is easily abused there.”
“I’m guessing, but I assume that—just like with many other things in this city—the royalty turn a blind eye to this?” Beatrice asked.
“Of course!” Ember confirmed, happy that Beatrice caught on so easily. “True, that these types of fights are not technically legal, and most certainly they would be unheard of in better times. But now? Some genuinely believe that a true Champion can be born in that arena. At least that is what most pretend to believe.”
“And where are those ‘Champions’ now?” Beatrice asked.
“Dead or vanished without a trace,” Ember answered.