Amazon Apocalypse 4 [Deleted Chapter]: Chapter 72

As soon as the match was called, I fed Cyra the most expensive health potion I had. It also had a mild sedative effect, since it was intended for treating people with severe wounds. I thought I’d bring it back to Crownhill for Doctor Roswell to use, but it was just what I needed here. Cyra started looking better immediately.

After that, I detonated several mana bombs, which wiped away the slime trapping her, then hoisted her over my shoulder as I hauled her to the medics.

“Hit her with a few healing spells, please,” I instructed.

“You can lay her down and we’ll take care of her,” a medic suggested.

I shook my head. “No. I’m taking her with me.”

I felt a bit like a villain. Here I was, a big guy named Doomblade grabbing a helpless and mostly naked woman and hauling her off to who knew where. But worlds of levels and magic operated on different rules. Or maybe the medics just decided whatever I was doing with Cyra Samhain was the Samhain Clan’s problem. They let me take her without protest.

Whatever the case was, I left with her in my arms, still sleeping off her injuries, but mostly healed. I changed out of my Doomblade Armor the first chance I could and went to Bridget’s apartment. I felt even more conspicuous hauling Cyra over my shoulders without my armor to hide behind. The cloak I threw over both of us didn’t help the feeling, but it did cut down on the stares.

We made it to Bridget’s apartment, where I cleaned her up, laid her down in bed, fed her another healing potion, and did my best to wait for her to wake up.

I spent several hours fretting by her bedside. I examined my armor components and thought I could get some work done repairing them. Cyra had done a lot of damage to my armor, after all. I needed to be ready for the final match tomorrow.

Myrina would be fighting her match as Feisty Redhead about now. I probably should have stayed to watch, but I knew Myrina would win. I’d have trouble beating her in the final match now that I’d exhausted my entire anti-Amazonian weapons. I doubted the tricks I’d used on Cyra would even work on Myrina, anyway.

She could counter the lasso and slime just by taking off parts of her armor. And, according to Sakura, six bags of holding and more than three hundred enchanted swords had gone missing since Doomblade’s Armory opened shop. I was pretty sure all the missing merchandise could be found tucked away somewhere on Myrina, which meant she'd have a far easier time resupplying.

But that was a problem for another day. Now, I was just impatiently waiting for Cyra to wake. Despite my best efforts, I hardly got any repair work done.

Eventually, Cyra stirred, and I put my work away to be there for her the moment she woke. Bleary-eyed and still dazed from the wounds she took, she opened her eyes.

“Welcome back, wife,” I said.

“Huh?” Cyra asked, sitting up and stretching. Her hand immediately went to her head, right where I’d punched her to knock her out when the fight ended.

“Carter? How are you here? I was in the arena, fighting... then... I lost to Doomblade and...” Cyra shook her head as the memories came flooding back.

I put on my Doomblade helmet. “You have been defeated and are now my sexy Amazonian bride!” I let out a chuckle, then pulled the helmet off. “That is... if you’re still sticking to our promise in that tent not far from here. I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.”

“It wasn’t all in my head then? It really was you in the arena?” Cyra slowly sat up.

I pushed her back down. “It really was. And you’re really bruised now, despite attention from the healers. Here, I prepared some food. Bridget cooked it. Do you remember how good a chef she was? Well, she’s gotten even better.”

Being wounded hadn’t done anything to stifle Cyra’s appetite. Her wounds healed, though I wasn’t sure if that was because of Bridget’s food or the Samhain family bloodline. Either way, she seemed better in short order. I returned her bag of holding to her, which contained a change of clothes.

She threw the sheets off herself and made to change. She winced a bit as she rolled out of bed, and I stood up to help her get dressed.

“That’s probably some internal bruising. Let me help you.”

“That wouldn’t...” Cyra began.

“Wouldn’t be appropriate? Unless you change your mind, we’re married now, as agreed. I won our duel fair and square, which means I’m your husband, right?”

Cyra hesitated a moment, clearly still accepting her new reality.

“I... guess so.” She shrugged, and I helped her get dressed.

“To be honest, I’m not satisfied with the duel thing either. We’ll have a proper Earth wedding too, at some point. But feel free to settle into married life before that. Oh, that reminds me, let’s stop by the shop to pick up some wedding gifts. I broke your sword and armor, so it’s only right that I replace them.”

Cyra shook her head, still blinking in confusion. It would probably be a while before she came to terms with this sudden twist of fate.

“Come on, wife. Let’s go for a walk,” I held out my arm, and Cyra took it. The two of us strolled through the streets of Mucaria, just as we had the last time. Cyra let the subject of our surprise wedding drop, and a bit of the smile I remembered returned to her face. But there was one worry clear on her mind.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t screw over your clan by losing to me,” I consoled her.

“You’re going to win for us?” Cyra asked hopefully.

I shrugged. “Myrina ought to have won her match by now. It’ll be either me or her in the final match, so you can celebrate your victory now. Whoever wins between us, the grand prize is safe.”

“That means Feisty Redhead is Myrina?” Cyra’s eyes widened. “I should have guessed as much. Their styles are similar, as are their mannerisms. But I knew my sister would never pick a name like Feisty Redhead. She would have been someone like the Sword of Doom or something...”

I chuckled. “She claims not to be jealous of the name Doomblade, but I sense the envy in her every time somebody calls the two of us by name. Doomblade is truly an awesome name.”

I gave myself a little pat on the back once again for scooping such a badass title. My good naming sense was truly one of my greatest talents, though Myrina wasn’t half-bad at it herself.

“If you say so...” Cyra cracked another smile. I could tell she was more than a little relieved at the news that her clan would be okay despite losing to me in the semifinals.

We arrived at Doomblade’s Armory then, where I took Cyra into the back room and introduced her to Gobgob. Then, I pulled out my Doomblade Armor for Gobgob to work on. I planned to spend as much time as possible with my new wife, which meant I wouldn’t have the time to repair my armor for the final match the following day.

“Can you handle repairs for me, Gobgob?” I asked.

“Yes, Chief,” Gobgob nodded in reply and quickly got to work.

From there, Cyra and I toured the shelves. I had hoped to outfit Cyra with a set of Mark One power armor, but Sakura had those sold out for the next six months. So Cyra had to make do with regular old enchanted armor and swords, at least for now.

“This is just temporary gear. I promise I’ll replace it with better stuff as soon as I can,” I said as I handed Cyra a full set of equipment.

“Temporary? This set is comparable to the masterwork of Goldenfinger Garund.” Cyra ran awed fingers over the finely etched metal.

“Was that the guy who made your last set? He’s not bad, but he left a few easy-to-exploit vulnerabilities. Mainly, a number of magical solvents that melt metal on contact.”

Cyra seemed pretty interested in the gear we had on display, so I took her through the entire store. Anything she expressed interest in, I bought. And unlike a certain somebody who swiped anything that caught her eye, I merely marked the product down as being sold at a ninety-nine percent discount and then swiped it fair and square.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Cyra eyed the heaping pile of swords, shields, and armor I’d picked up for her warily. “This almost feels like stealing.”

“It’s not stealing when I write down that it was sold.” I gave Cyra a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “What do you say we spend a night on the town, you and me?”

Cyra leaned against me in reply, which I took as a wordless confirmation.

We stopped by the arena for a bit, where Myrina was kicking around a few people who’d lingered after her match. Checking the scoreboard, she had won her match quite readily and was now putting on a bit of a show by challenging random audience members. Already, a half-dozen people were lying scattered across the field after they were used as punching bags.

We even got to see a few recording crystals of the fight.

"Feisty Redhead, you're not half bad. But I've been holding back until now! Prepare to face my full power, unleashed at last! Ahaha--" the unfortunate guy laughed maniacally right up until Myrina kicked him in the groin, after which he doubled over and spent the rest of the fight doing his best impression of a target dummy.

I checked in on the betting arena, and it was clear I was still the underdog, despite my win against Cyra. The unending displays of overwhelming power from Feisty Redhead were enough that most people thought her victory was a sure thing.

“I’m glad she won. Still, I’d rather avoid my family until the news that everything will be okay gets through to them. I’ll send a message to my mother so she doesn’t worry, but my cousins will not take my defeat lightly,” Cyra said.

I shrugged. “Write it down and we’ll hire someone to deliver it. If your family wants to punish you, they aren’t doing it on our wedding night.”

I had hoped to say hello to Myrina, but she looked like she was busy. No doubt she’d wake me up tomorrow morning in time for my final match with her. She seemed to be really looking forward to it, and I’d see her then.

“Come on, let’s go eat at our usual place. Then we’ll have some fun, wife.” I ran my hand along the underside of Cyra’s chin.

She blushed. “You really like calling me that.”

“I worked hard to earn the right. I’m just making up for lost time.”

Cyra blushed harder before shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you were Doomblade all along.”

I chuckled. “You probably could have figured it out if you looked into it. But no, you were all miss stoic with the weight of the world resting on your shoulders.”

“I guess I was a little too focused. Maybe I should--“

“No, you don’t need to change a bit. You and I are a team from now on, and I’ll be looking out for you. Okay?”

Cyra’s face took on a permanent scarlet hue for the rest of the night. For such a fearsome warrior, she looked terribly cute when I said something embarrassingly mushy.

By the end of dinner, she seemed to finally accept what happened. I dueled her and won. And it wasn’t any fake duel either where she threw the match. In our duel, she’d fought her hardest and I’d prevailed despite her, winning the right to marry her by ancient Amazonian custom beyond any shred of doubt.

After dinner, we walked around the city, watching the unusual sky of the pocket world once again, though the night lights that dotted the streets of this magical city made them harder to make out than usual.

“I’ve seen enough. Let’s go,” Cyra nudged my shoulder after we’d spent long enough staring at the sky and chatting.

“Where to?” I asked curiously.

“We can’t go back to the Samhain family compound, but I suspect we need a bed for the night,” Cyra replied. She had a sly but nervous look on her face.

I brought her back to Bridget’s apartment. A fancy hotel room would have probably been more romantic, but there was plenty of time for that later, and I suspected this would be a long night. Given my recent track record of nearly sleeping through matches, I’d need Myrina to wake me up in time for the dramatic final match with her.

Hopefully, Gobgob had finished repairs and gotten me more gear. Otherwise, I’d be in trouble for that fight. Not that it mattered much to me anymore. For me, the climax of the tournament was my battle with Cyra. Anything else was an afterthought. But would it really be better if I stuck Myrina with the job of leading the Dragon Lodge’s auxiliary troops? Maybe it would be better for me, since I had a lot to do back in Crownhill. The Samhain Clan might not be entirely thrilled with Myrina leading, but at least they would have a clanswoman of theirs at the helm.

Perhaps it would be best to just leave it up to fate. I'd do my best against Myrina, and whoever won got stuck with the job. I really would have to give it my all though. Everybody signing up for the magical auxiliary forces deserved that much.

So we went back to Bridget’s apartment, back to the very bed Cyra had woken up in after her defeat at my hands.

“So, you know what happens on wedding nights, right?” I nudged Cyra curiously. As tough as she was, I didn’t want to push her too hard too fast. Relationship stuff seemed to be a soft spot for the deadly Amazonian before me. “You can just lay back and--“

I never had the chance to finish what I was saying. When I shut the door behind us, Cyra grabbed me and pressed her lips to mine. The kiss was not as clumsy as I expected it would be. It took me a moment to figure out why, though, and the answer didn’t come to me until Cyra had already ripped her clothes off and most of mine as well.

Cyra kissed the same way she fought. She put hours and hours of careful practice into the move, though I sensed from her unfamiliar hesitation that this was the first time she had a partner to practice on. She'd rehearsed these moves. Quite a bit, from the feel of it.

Cyra grabbed me and pushed me to the bed. She was practically on top of me when she broke off the kiss and spoke again. “Take me... husband!”

The words were practically a demand. Just moments ago, I’d been trying to figure out how to coax an embarrassed Amazonian princess into enjoying her first time. But apparently, Cyra already had her own plans for the night, and I’d already held out on her far too long.

“Wait, Cyra, there’s something I should tell you. It’s about a special skill of mine--“ I began again, but as luck would have it, that was exactly when Cyra decided to jump on top of me, triggering my own ability.

Her eyes almost seemed to glow for a moment, and her hips started moving over my stomach and groin. She kicked off the last of her underclothes, and soon, her dripping sex was rubbing against me.

Both our bodies were at the peak of C-Grade, and my pants were only normal clothes. The strength behind Cyra’s hips and hot pussy was so intense that between her and my growing erection, the humble cloth pants could take no more and popped open. My cock stood proudly in the air for no more than a single moment before Cyra shifted her weight again and took it inside her.

She hesitated for just a moment as she slowly inserted it into herself, then sank down the full length of my shaft. Then, she went right back to swaying her hips, only now my cock was inside her and the feeling was all the more intense.

“Husband... husband... husband!” Cyra panted, eyes full of a sense of obsession that had always remained buried deep beneath a fortress of discipline.

Under normal circumstances, I would have figured out what was happening far sooner, but my current predicament left me slower-witted than normal. Cyra’s delirious state had to be at least partially caused by my Scepter of the Supreme Patriarch skill.

I spent a minute or so inwardly debating whether or not I should say anything. After struggling for several minutes to devise a reason not to tell her, I decided to voice my concerns.

“Cyra! Cyra, I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I have a skill that affects your mood and sexual proclivities. You’re feeling a bit crazy right now because you’re on top of me.”

My words fell on deaf ears, and Cyra soon silenced me anyway with another kiss.

“My husband. Mine at last...” Cyra giggled almost drunkenly.

Clearly, I wouldn’t be getting through to her in her current state. I needed to turn the tables on her. Satisfied with that course of action, I bided my time and waited. Eventually, the thing that I knew was coming happened. Cyra threw her head back as a tremor ran throughout her entire body.

You have drained a level from Cyra Samhain!

Taking one of Cyra’s levels hadn’t been part of the plan. I could deactivate that feature at the cost of some of my skill's effects. Originally, I thought that was what I had in store for the night before Cyra's ambush. I’d just have to make use of the opportunity Cyra had given me.

When Cyra was at her most vulnerable, still riding me but slowed for a moment, I shifted my hips and flipped her over.

“There we go. Now that I’m on top, I’ll show you the proper way to make love to your new fiance...” I grinned, ready to show Cyra the good time I had planned. It wouldn’t be quite as special now that she’d practically had her way with me, but...

“Husband!” Cyra grabbed my arms and pulled me tight against them. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, trapping my face between her boobs as she shifted her hips up and down the length of her cock.

She had quite an excellent headlock on me, though I no doubt could have escaped at any time if I’d been truly motivated. I didn't because Cyra’s boobs were rather comfortable. I wouldn’t have thought they’d be as plump and round as they were, considering how much she exercised, but I was pleasantly surprised when I rested my head against her pillowy mounds. These were some truly fantastic breasts.

I spent a bit too much time admiring them. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, but eventually, I realized I’d made a miscalculation. It wasn’t just my magic cock that was driving Cyra crazy. If it was, the position switch would have reversed her mood entirely. Instead, she switched from being an aggressive lover to one that cuddled me so tightly that a normal human would have cracked every rib they had.

At the end of the day, this is what Cyra wanted. Truthfully, I felt a bit flattered by the obsessive outpouring of attention. I’d missed her a lot, but all this made it feel like she’d been thinking of me just as much.

When I finally focused on the task at hand, I realized I needed to devise a plan to regain control of the situation.

“Cyra? Are you okay?” I asked her.

“More! Been waiting... too long. All your fault...” Cyra panted, still going strong.

Her grip was as strong as ever. Maybe in my Doomblade Armor I could have broken free, but that was with Gobgob undergoing repairs.

Somehow, I needed to regain control of the situation. I wouldn’t be much of a patriarch if I spent the whole wedding night letting Cyra ride me. If I didn’t, Cyra might get the wrong idea about who owns the magic cock in our relationship. After all, I was the one who won our duel. Anyone watching now would have thought it was the other way around.

I couldn’t overpower Cyra, at least not without taking enough levels from her to reach B-Grade, which I was getting damn close to all of a sudden.

What I needed was a weapon. The Lasso of Amazonian Binding had lost much of its strength, but Cyra had to be getting tired by now. Hopefully, it would be of use.

I focused, trying to remember where my bag of holding had gone when Cyra practically tore my clothes off me. Eventually, an image of it formed in my mind, and I reached for the lasso within the bag using telekinesis.

“It’s happening again, husband! I... I love you!” Cyra moaned as she climaxed a second time.

You have drained a level from Cyra Samhain!

I held my breath, focusing my mind so I wouldn’t cum with her. When I’d centered myself, the lasso floated to my hands, and I grabbed Cyra’s wrists in one hand. She hardly resisted my grip at all, even when I brought the lasso around and tied them together.

“That’s more like it.” I grinned, suddenly realizing that these magical ropes would get used for Myrina’s original intent after all.

When Cyra next decided to restrain me for another pelvis-crushing session of Amazonian snu-snu, I looped the rope, tying her hands together around the bed’s headboard, and flipped her onto her back.

“We’re going to have the slow and cozy wedding night I imagined one way or another.” I ran my hand along Cyra’s cheek and the other along her soaking-wet sex.

Compared to the aggressive and fast-paced stimulation she’d just been receiving, this was nothing. It would take time to make teasing her worthwhile.

“Y-you teased me for months. Must you continue?” Cyra pleaded as I planted kisses from her neck to her navel.

“Maybe if you promise to be my good little Amazonian matriarch and do everything I say, I’ll go a little faster. But if not, that’s alright too. I’m having plenty of fun.”

I reached up and gave one of Cyra’s perky nipples a gentle rub between thumb and forefinger, then kneaded the breast underneath it. When I examined them with my face, I suspected they’d feel wonderful to squeeze. Now I was free to confirm it.

I did so immediately and thoroughly, then did the same for the rest of Cyra’s body. One of these days I’d build her some custom armor, much like the Feisty Redhead armor Myrina wore to the arena. When that time came, I needed to make sure the armor was perfectly sized, so really, this could be considered important work.

You have drained 2 levels from Cyra Samhain!

Your race, homo fatum, has reached level 197!

Your class, Sage of Forbidden Knowledge, has reached level 196!

I wasn’t sure when sex turned into cuddling and cuddling into snoozing, but eventually, Cyra and I fell asleep, arms wrapped tight around one another.


<Note>
Next chapter will be the end of the book, though I'm still banging my head against the epilogue. I've written and thrown out a few attempts already, but I will hopefully settle on something before Saturday, so we can end this book and start doing short story and book 5 stuff.