The sage Konan’s body was adorned with tattoos that seemed to move slightly, as though alive, their intricate designs glowing faintly with residual mana. His weathered face carried the weight of countless years, and his voice trembled with urgency.
“The Seven Eternal Yogic Sages are trying to complete a sacred ritual to honor the Old Gods and summon vast amounts of Yaga energy. This energy could restore balance to yogic realm and protect the sacred lands for centuries. It will also strengthen the command of 7 sages on yogic realm as they will gain immense yogic energy.”
Kent raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “I heard the 7 sages were so powerful. Why do they need my help?”
Konan sighed deeply, his expression shadowed with shame. “The ritual requires absolute purity and holiness. But the Demon Race prince and his elders have been disrupting it by defiling the sacred grounds. They throw blood, bones, and even bodily waste during the ritual, making it unholy.”
Ruby in her phoenix form, ruffled her feathers in disgust. “Bodily waste? That’s very low, even for demons.” Continue your saga on My Virtual Library Empire
Konan nodded solemnly. “Once the ritual begins, the Eternal Sages cannot use their powers to harm any living being. It is their vow. That’s why they’ve sent their disciples far and wide to find capable warriors to aid us.”
Kavi growled, flames licking at his mane. “So, you want us to babysit while your sages chant and hum?”
Kent folded his arms, his piercing gaze fixed on the sage. “What’s in it for me? I don’t work for free.”
Konan met his eyes with humility. “If you help us, the sages will share a portion of the Yaga energy with you. It is a divine blessing, unlike anything you’ve experienced. And you will also gain access to vast amounts of safe Inner Qi for your cultivation.”
Kent’s eyes narrowed as he considered the offer. “Yaga energy, huh? That could be useful. But how do I know this isn’t a trap? Demons have a habit of disguising themselves.”
The sage quickly knelt, pressing his forehead to the ground. “I swear on the Old Gods themselves, I speak only the truth. Without your help, the ritual will fail, and the balance of this realm will shatter. Please, warrior.”
Inside Kent’s mind, the voice of the Goddess of Lust whispered seductively. “Take the task, Kent. The yogic sage is a real deal. A wise one never turns down an opportunity to gain divine energy. Besides, it’s unbecoming to ignore the plea of a humble sage.”
Kent exhaled sharply. “Fine. I’ll help you.”
Konan’s face lit up with relief. “Thank you, great warrior! We must leave at once. The ritual site is atop the Eastern Meru Mountain, the farthest edge of the Yogic Sage Realm.”
As they began their journey, the strong space of the Spirit Realm pressed against them, forcing Kent to channel more energy just to move through the sky. His companions followed, dragging Simon along like a sack of potatoes.
–
Meanwhile, in another part of the Spirit Realm, a loud crack of energy revealed the arrival of Fatty Ben and the Seventh Witch, Mohini. The dimensional orb’s power dissipated, leaving them standing in the middle of an elaborately manicured garden.
“Ahh!” Fatty Ben cried out, stumbling as he landed. His round frame jiggled from the impact. “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked, concern etched across his sweaty face.
Mohini nodded silently, brushing the dust from her dark robes. Her stoic expression betrayed none of her emotions.
“Hehehe… Madam,” hissed a raspy voice. Lambu, Mohini’s serpent pet in his human form, smirked wickedly. “This fat guy seems to pay you ‘extra’ attention. By any chance, does he…?”
Before he could finish, Mohini smacked the back of his head with enough force to send him sprawling.
“Shut up,” she snapped.
Fatty Ben, oblivious to the exchange, looked around nervously. “Where… are we?”
The garden was vast, filled with exotic plants and flowers, their colors unnaturally vibrant. Statues of mythical creatures dotted the landscape, and in the distance, a grand mansion loomed, its marble walls gleaming under the sun.
Before they could gather their bearings, armed soldiers poured into the garden, their weapons drawn.
“Who are you, intruders?” barked the captain, his armor clinking as he raised his sword. “You dare trespass on the estate of the noble Devarian family?”
Fatty Ben raised his hands defensively. “Wait, wait! It’s a misunderstanding! We didn’t mean to—”
“Silence!” the captain roared. “Seize them!”
The soldiers closed in, their swords glinting ominously.
Lambu, still rubbing his head, smirked. “Master, The noble peacocks are coming for us. What shall we do?”
Mohini shot him a glare. “Lambu, behave.”
Just then, a young man dressed in extravagant robes emerged from the mansion. His hair was slicked back, and his smirk was as greasy as his demeanor. He was the young master of the Devarian family.
“What’s all this commotion?” he drawled lazily. His eyes fell on Mohini, and he straightened up immediately. “Oh… who is this beauty doll?”
The soldiers bowed. “Young Master, these two intruded on the estate. We were just about to—”
“Silence,” the young master said, waving them off. His gaze lingered on Mohini, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Prepare her to be my night doll. She’s far too exquisite to waste.”
Mohini’s eyes flashed with fury, but before she could act, Lambu stepped forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“Night doll, huh?” Lambu said mockingly, his forked tongue flickering. “Young Master, you wouldn’t last a minute with her. My proud master might turn you into a doll instead.”
The soldiers bristled, their grips tightening on their weapons.
“Lambu,” Mohini hissed, “stop provoking them.”
But Lambu wasn’t done. He gestured toward Fatty Ben, who was trying to disappear behind a bush. “Besides, how can you touch my master when this fat guy is going beat the heck out of you?”
The young master’s face darkened. “How dare you mock me? Guards, kill them all!”
The soldiers lunged, but before their blades could connect, Mohini raised her hand and shattered a talisman. A wave of purple energy erupted from her, throwing the soldiers back like ragdolls.
Lambu laughed as he transformed into his serpent form, his fangs glinting. “Ah, now the fun begins!”
The young master screamed in terror as Fatty Ben tripped and fell into a rose bush.
“Oops,” Lambu said, slithering toward the panicked noble. “Looks like it’s your turn to be a doll, young master.”
Mohini sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why do I always end up in these situations?”
But just then a powerful figure appeared above the rich mansion