The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 88 - The Sword Festival, Part 2 (5)

The battles of the day raged on, the tension in the air so thick you could almost taste it. By now, it was the second round of the tournament, a critical stage where only the best would advance. The winners of this round would fight their way to the third, and those who emerged victorious there would claim their spots in the Quarterfinals. Only two fighters would stand tall in the end, which meant there was a good chance I'd end up facing Zeruel.

As I waited for my next match, I heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, I saw Johanne, her usual confident, handsome grin lighting up her face.

"Hey, Leon," she greeted, her voice smooth and casual, though her eyes carried a hint of something serious. "Hello to all of you too, ladies."

"Hello," Titania replied, her smile warm but guarded. Beside her, Trill remained silent, offering a polite nod. Yr, however, was out cold, her soft, even breaths the only sound coming from her.

"Mind if I steal Leon for a bit?" Johanne asked, her tone respectful.

Titania narrowed her eyes slightly, scrutinizing Johanne. "I have to ask, Mr. Johanne—why do you always feel the need to ask our permission whenever you want to talk to Leon?"

Johanne laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. "Well, I thought it was the right thing to do. I mean, you two are his girlfriends, right?"

"You're mistaken," Titania said bluntly, her tone calm but firm.

"Eh?" Johanne blinked, her expression twisting into shock. "I-Is that so?"

"Yes," Titania said with a soft chuckle, her hand moving to stroke Yr's head, her fingers tender as they brushed through the girl's hair. "This one here is also his girlfriend. There are three of us."

Johanne's gaze darted to me, her jaw practically dropping. Her expression screamed disbelief. I met her eyes and shrugged nonchalantly, silently affirming that Titania wasn't kidding.

"Um, should I ask her permission too, then?" Johanne stammered.

"It's fine..." Yr mumbled suddenly, her voice a sleepy drawl as she shifted slightly in Titania's lap. "Ha... fuuu~..." With that, she sank back into her slumber, her breathing steady once more.

I couldn't tell if she had actually heard what Johanne said and responded, or if she was just dreaming and muttered something in her sleep.

Titania chuckled again, shaking her head. "Well, there you have it." She smiled knowingly at Johanne, taking Yr's sleepy words as a seal of approval.

"I won't keep him long," Johanne promised, her tone almost apologetic.

"We'll be waiting," Titania replied with a graceful nod.

With that, I followed Johanne as she led me to a quieter corner of the arena grounds, away from the bustling crowds and roaring cheers.

The atmosphere shifted as we stopped, a slight tension hanging between us. Her normally confident demeanor seemed to falter, a subtle hesitance creeping into her body language.

"Um, I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?" she asked, her voice softer now.

"Not at all," I replied. "My next fight isn't for a while."

She let out a deep sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she patted her chest. "Thank goodness..."

"So, what's this about?" I asked, crossing my arms as I studied her.

"Well, let's just say I need some advice," she admitted, her fingers fidgeting slightly as if unsure how to begin.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Advice on what?"

Her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink, and she scratched her cheek nervously. "It's about Tris. Well, honestly, it's about me too. It's... kind of about our marriage."

So that's what this was about—her wife, Tris, and, by extension, their relationship. Something serious was clearly weighing on her mind.

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"How can I put this..." Johanne began, her voice unsteady, like she was choking on the weight of her own words. "Honestly, it feels like I'm starting to see just how hopeless I really am as a husband."

"Why do you think that?" I asked.

"Well... it's because..." She hesitated. "I... I just can't do the thing that most men can do."

"You're talking about sex, aren't you?" I said, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

Her reaction was instant and visceral. A fierce blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes widening as though I had stripped her bare with that single word. "S-So you already know about me? Tris must have told you..." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," I said evenly, watching her squirm under the weight of her embarrassment. "Tris told me everything—every last detail—on the night of your wedding."

Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, so vivid it seemed to radiate heat. For some reason, the sight struck me as almost unbearably cute. Despite her outwardly masculine appearance, her underlying femininity shone through in moments like this. It was a strange contradiction that made her flustered expressions impossible to ignore.

"I wish Tris had talked to me first before spilling everything to you..." she mumbled, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and humiliation. She crossed her arms defensively, as though trying to shield herself from the vulnerability of the conversation.

Tris had indeed told me everything that night, including Johanne's inability to perform in bed. Her "dick" simply wouldn't get hard, no matter what they tried. That was why Tris had called me in the first place, desperate for advice on how to navigate their wedding night.

Of course, I knew the deeper truth behind Johanne's struggles. Despite her outward appearance, Johanne was biologically female—a secret likely known only to her father and now, thanks to my ability, me. My ability, the Goddess of Succubus's Heir, had revealed her true gender, something I doubted even Johanne herself was aware of.

"Well," I said, my voice steady as I met her gaze, "I think Tris was just as committed to making your marriage work as you are. She seems determined to help you through this, which tells me she wants this as much as you do. Don't you think so?"

"Right..." Johanne murmured, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She exhaled slowly, as though trying to summon her courage. "That's exactly why I'm here, Leon. I know what I'm about to ask might bother you, but please... hear me out."

Her voice trembled slightly, but her resolve was clear. "Tris and I don't want this marriage to fail. We want it to work."

Despite their marriage being a calculated arrangement—a connection born out of convenience—there was a genuine earnestness in Johanne's words. She truly wanted this to succeed, and it was hard not to respect that.

"I suppose I can help you with whatever you need," I said, nodding slowly. "What is it you want help with?"

Johanne's blush returned, fierce and fiery, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. Her eyes darted away from mine, as though the act of looking at me was suddenly too much to bear. "Y-You're experienced with sex, right?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely audible.

I raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt, sensing she wasn't done yet.

"Would you... would you mind teaching me about it?" she finally blurted out, her words tumbling over each other in a rush. "Giving me advice as we go along?"

It was, in essence, a simple request—harmless and straightforward. It wouldn't cost me much to help her, and considering the sincerity of her plea, I couldn't see a reason to refuse.

***

Titania's POV

We waited for Leon to return, keeping ourselves occupied by watching the ongoing matches. The arena buzzed with restless energy, and eventually, it was Zeruel's turn to fight.

Her opponent was a woman with a similar build—lithe but muscular, her demeanor exuding the air of a seasoned adventurer. It wasn't often you came across female adventurers, let alone one skilled enough to wield a sword. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration as I studied her stance.

The match began with an explosion of movement. Both fighters lunged at each other, their swords colliding in a symphony of sharp, ringing clangs that echoed through the arena. The air seemed to vibrate with the force of their strikes.

Zeruel was calm and calculated, her movements almost effortless as she parried and sidestepped her opponent's attacks. The woman, by contrast, was visibly struggling to find an opening. Her strikes grew more aggressive, more desperate, but Zeruel remained unshaken, almost as if she were toying with her.

And then, it happened. The woman overcommitted, her sword cutting through the air in a reckless arc. Her balance wavered, leaving her wide open.

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Zeruel didn't hesitate. She moved in with the precision of a predator, closing the distance in an instant. Her blade gleamed as it stopped just shy of the woman's throat, the sharp edge threatening to draw blood if the woman so much as twitched.

The referee's voice boomed over the crowd, declaring the match over and Zeruel the winner.

But instead of cheers, the crowd erupted into boos and jeers. The sound was jarring, cutting through the tension like a knife.

I frowned, my gaze sweeping over the sea of discontented faces. Why were they booing her? The fight had been clean, her victory decisive. Then again, this wasn't the first time I'd questioned the crowd's reactions. Yesterday, they'd cheered wildly for a fighter who'd killed his opponent. The inconsistency of their emotions was unsettling, but I knew better than to dwell on it.