Earth's SSS Pornstar to SSS Combat God in Another World-Chapter 25: Alaric the Dick-Flick Knight

Joji and Kobluk returned to the barn by dusk. Inside, Kobto played his flute again, and the chickens answered with loud clucking that filled the gaps in the walls.

It was a crude sound screen, but it worked.

Alaric handed them bowls of hot soup.

"What were you able to uncover?"

Joji took a long gulp, then laid out what they saw at the cemetery.

The shallow claw work. The clean cut at the neck. The bite marks that bruised more than they tore.

Alaric’s expression tightened as the pieces stacked.

"There are only a few groups that delve into horrors like this. The Black Tower in the Kingdom of Calico. But magic towers sign pacts. They don’t join wars unless their interests are trampled."

That should have been a dead end. It almost felt like one.

Joji set his bowl down.

"You said unless their interests are trampled. What if it’s a lone mage who lacks resources. Someone who can’t ask a tower for help. Wouldn’t he look at common folk for experiments?"

The barn went quieter for a breath.

"It’s not impossible," Alaric said. "But who would dare?"

Joji then said the obvious.

"There are underground groups that want to weaken the duchy from within."

Alaric felt the weight of it. Knights were supposed to solve problems like this.

If they retreated now and asked for reinforcements, shame would follow, even if it was the most logical move.

Being a knight was not only logic. It demanded pride and grit.

Joji understood that. It sat on him like weight. He was the most stressed of them all because he had been the one to propose taking this mission in the first place.

His name was already not that good. If he backed out now, it would be dragged further into the mud, and Alaric’s name would be pulled down with it.

Across the Everhart Duchy, Elite Knights and Great Knights were already out quelling fires like these.

Everhart had survived the war intact not because they were gentler, but because their retreating arts kept their people nimble.

That did not mean the other nobles were weak. It meant they were growing. Planning.

Waiting to swallow the oldest duchy, Everhart, that still stood in Vicario.

Alaric rubbed his jaw.

"What now?" he asked.

"We probe first," Joji said. "If it’s too much, we retreat. But from now on, I’ll be on the front. I’ll rely on you to cover me."

Alaric nodded, trying to look calm, trying not to look eager. Joji saw the grin fighting its way onto Alaric’s face anyway and knocked him on the head.

"Hey. What was that for?" Alaric exclaimed.

"Look at you," Joji said. "Grinning like a fool."

Joji turned to Walter.

"You’ll need to arm yourself too. You’ll need to buy a shield..."

He stopped mid sentence and sniffed.

"Is that smoke?"

All heads turned. Kobto’s ears angled toward the wall.

"I smelled it earlier. It’s close."

They burst out of the barn.

A haystack leaning beside the barn was already burning, flames licking upward in wooden walls.

"Buckets," someone yelled. "We need buckets."

Doors opened all along the street. People ran toward the river, then back again in a frantic line, passing water hand to hand.

Joji and Alaric joined without hesitation. They could not throw power around now. Not without revealing who they were.

The kobolds helped too, moving fast and silent, but every one of them kept scanning the crowd between bucket passes.

Alaric’s gaze snapped to the edge of the firelight.

A hooded figure stood back from the chaos, watching too still, then shifting away as if the glow itself offended him.

Alaric met Joji’s eyes. Understanding passed between them in a single breath.

"I forgot something inside," Alaric said aloud. "Wait here."

He broke from the bucket line and slipped into the dark behind the barn.

Oil lamps were scarce in that area. The shadows were thick and forgiving.

Alaric moved up the side beams and onto the roof, then leapt roof to roof with soft landings.

He found the watcher.

It was the gravedigger, shovel arms and mean mouth, the same kind of eyes Joji had described.

Alaric hit him from behind. The old man went down with a wheeze, consciousness fading.

He dragged him into a narrow alley, stripped off his layers fast, and searched him with practiced hands.

No sigils carved into skin. No obvious brand. Just hidden pockets, a second pouch, a booklet that did not belong in a graveyard, and the stink of lamp oil.

By the time Alaric returned to the barn side, the fire was being choked out.

Citizens cheered themselves, soot faced and proud, as if teamwork could erase fear of fire.

Joji stepped close.

"Did you get anything?"

"I got everything he had," Alaric said, and showed the clothes and the booklet. It was a gain.

If the gravedigger dared light their shelter, he had noticed them. That made him a lead.

Kobluk picked up the booklet Alaric had taken and gave it a slow sniff, like a dog deciding if paper could lie.

"This book makes the gravedigger not the suspect."

Joji took it and opened it on his knee. Inside were sigils and crude sketches. The anatomy of different animals, drawn apart and then stitched together in ink, arrows marking where flesh should meet flesh.

He turned the pages once, twice, then held it out to Alaric.

"I touched the man all over," Alaric said. "His hands did not feel like an artist or a scholar."

"Then he is a decoy. A watcher. Maybe just another tool," Joji said. He kept his eyes on Alaric. "We need to plan thoroughly. But what did you do to the old man?"

On the far side of the street, the gravedigger finally staggered up, still dizzy, vision swimming like he had been spun on a wheel.

He lurched out of the alley and blinked at the firelit crowd.

"What was that?" he murmured.

Then he felt the night air at his crotch. He was butt naked.

A woman, still riding the pride of helping put out the fire, saw him and screamed, loud enough to slice through the cheers.

"Ah. A pervert. A naked old pervert. Help, everyone."

Heads turned. Feet moved. People ran, not to the river this time but toward him, and the guards came too.

"Old gravedigger," one guard barked. "You dare do such filthy acts in public? Has your decency gone into the grave with your corpses?"

"Come with us. Shameless scoundrel."

"Guard, I can explain," the gravedigger pleaded, hands flailing as if he could catch his dignity before it hit the ground.

"Explain what?" the guard snapped. He pointed at the hard dong between his legs. "Obscene. I don’t want to hear it."

They hauled him off while he protested, the crowd spitting laughter and disgust in equal measure.

Back at the barn, Joji collapsed onto the hay and laughed until his ribs hurt.

"Who the hell solves anything by flicking some old man’s dick till it’s hard?" he said between breaths. "Crazy. So crazy."

The kobolds stared, not understanding why Joji laughed after danger. Lilina frowned, confused but watching anyway.

Joji waved a hand at Alaric.

"Wash your hands. I don’t want you touching anything near me. If you ever pull something like that again, do it clean. Use rope. Use a stick. Use your brain."

"I hadn’t thought of that," Alaric admitted softly. "Still, it worked, didn’t it?" He pointed outside as the old man was dragged away by the guards. "Next time, then."

"Wash your hands, thoroughly, you bastard!" Joji shouted at Alaric as he stepped out.