The ground floor of the Endless Tower was dead silent when Klaus finally opened his eyes.
There was no blaring alarm clock as he blinked, staring up at the dark vaulted ceiling.
The pale glowing white runes carved into the obsidian pillars were starting to flicker and dim, casting long fading shadows across the stone floor.
Klaus sat up slowly and then he looked down at the absolute disaster zone he was sitting in.
The heavy fur mattress was completely ruined.
It was soaked through with sweat, thick white foam, his semen and the smell of both of their bodies combining.
The thick animal hides were torn at the edges where Mirela’s fingernails had desperately dug in during the mating press, and the wooden frame beneath the furs was actually cracked straight down the middle from the force of his thrusts.
Mirela was already out of bed.
Klaus ran a hand through his long luminescent silver hair, pushing the heavy strands out of his eyes.
He stood up, stepping naked onto the freezing obsidian floorboards.
The biting draft howling in from the open entrance didn’t bother him in the slightest as his internal body temperature was burning so hot he felt like a walking furnace.
He looked back at the ruined mattress.
There was no way they were dragging that mess out into the snow, and leaving a crime scene in the middle of a dungeon just felt wrong.
Klaus raised his right hand with his silver eyes narrowing as he tapped directly into the raw energy of his core.
FWOOSH!
A blinding wave of pure white Soul Mana erupted from his palm. It didn’t behave like normal elemental fire.
It was incredibly precise. The white, ethereal flames washed entirely over the ruined fur mattress and the cracked wooden frame.
There was no thick black smoke and no smell of burning hair. The divine energy simply incinerated the physical matter with terrifying efficiency.
In less than three seconds, the heavy bed was reduced to a perfectly neat pile of fine gray ash on the stone floor.
"Handy," Klaus muttered, clenching his fist to extinguish the flame.
He turned his attention to the heavy oak supply crates stacked near the dead campfire.
They needed to move those outside before Anya rebuilt the carriage.
Normally, he would just haul them over his shoulder one by one but he was in a brand new body, holding a completely undocumented power so he needed to know exactly what his limits were.
If he had any...
Klaus held both hands out toward the three massive wooden crates. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, visualizing the raw energy inside his ribs, and commanded it to take physical form.
SHHHHK!
Ten thick semi-transparent white tendrils of concentrated Soul Mana shot directly out of his palms and fingertips.
They moved like living, liquid glass, whipping through the air with complete fluidity.
Klaus opened his eyes, watching in quiet fascination as the tendrils slammed into the heavy oak crates.
They wrapped tightly around the wood, binding the supplies in a glowing white grip.
He flexed his fingers upward.
The three massive crates weighing easily two hundred pounds a piece lifted effortlessly off the ground and Klaus didn’t feel any physical strain in his arms.
The Soul Mana acted as a direct extension of his nervous system, bypassing physical gravity entirely.
He casually flicked his wrists toward the open double doors of the tower, and the tendrils smoothly carried the heavy crates twenty yards across the room, setting them down gently near the snowy threshold before dissolving back into his skin.
He smirked, rolling his broad shoulders.
It felt incredible.
Klaus turned around and walked toward the heated stone alcove near the back of the ground floor.
From what he knew, this part was used for bathing... It was a small spring here where Mirela got water from and bathed in
As he stepped around the massive stone pillar blocking the alcove from the main room, the thick humid air hit his face as the small basin was filled with steaming, crystal-clear water.
Mirela was already inside.
The demi-human maid was sitting waist-deep in the hot water, her back resting against the smooth stone edge of the basin.
Her silver wet hair was pinned up loosely behind her neck, and a small, worn sea-sponge rested in her hand.
Klaus paused at the edge of the water, crossing his muscled arms over his chest as he took her in.
The physical changes from the massive sustained transfer of divine Soul Mana were blatantly noticeable.
Mirela was practically glowing.
Her skin, which was normally pale and slightly dry from the harsh unforgiving Winterlands climate, was now radiantly smooth, flushed with a vibrant intensely healthy pink hue.
But the most obvious difference was her figure.
The heavy saturation of divine energy had aggressively fortified her biology. Her breasts were noticeably fuller, sitting heavier on her chest with the dark sensitive peaks tightened by the steam. Her hips looked slightly wider and her waist incredibly toned.
Despite the unhinged six hour pounding she had taken the night before, her legs looked surprisingly okay.
There were no deep bruises and no tearing.
The accelerated cellular regeneration had completely healed the micro-trauma of the rough sex, though Klaus could tell by the careful, deliberate way she moved her thighs in the water that a very distinct deep-seated soreness was still throbbing pleasantly between her legs.
Mirela heard his heavy footsteps.
She turned her head as her striking eyes locking onto his towering naked frame.
A massive, incredibly dark blush instantly exploded across her face, burning all the way from her collarbone to the tips of her pointed goat ears.
She quickly looked down at the surface of the steaming water, her fingers squeezing the wet sponge nervously.
"Good morning, Master," Mirela greeted softly, her voice still carrying a raspy huskiness from screaming his name repeatedly.
"Morning," Klaus rumbled, stepping down into the hot basin.
SPLASH.
The water displaced heavily as his bulk settled into the alcove. He waded over to her, the water level stopping just below his broad pectorals.
Mirela didn’t look up, but her dark tail swished under the water, brushing gently against his calf. She bit her lower lip with her goat ears twitching as she gathered her courage.
"Master..." Mirela started, her voice barely above a whisper.
She kept her gaze glued to the ripples. "If... if you want to have sex again right now... could you please wait until Anya is asleep?"
She swallowed hard with her face burning so hot it rivaled the steam.
"I am completely yours, and I will do whatever you command. But... I don’t think I can keep my voice down if you do that to me again. And I don’t want her hearing me scream like that..."
Klaus stopped in front of her. He looked down at her flushed deeply embarrassed face and his heart twisted with affection.
He reached out with his fingers gently tilting her chin up so her hazy eyes met his glowing silver ones.
"I’m not that horny," Klaus said deadpan.
Mirela blinked, letting out a shuddering breath of relief. Her tense shoulders instantly dropped, and a small, deeply appreciative smile pulled at the corners of her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Now turn around," Klaus ordered gently, taking the worn sea-sponge from her hand. "Let me wash you."
Mirela obeyed instantly. She shifted her weight, turning her back to him and leaning her elbows against the stone rim of the basin.
Klaus didn’t rush.
He dunked the sponge into the hot water, lathering it with a sliver of coarse soap they had salvaged from the supplies and he pressed the hot, wet sponge against her back, moving it in slow, broad, heavy circles.
SQUEAK! SPLASH!
He washed the sweat and the sticky residue of their night together off her skin.
Klaus traced the smooth flawless line of her spine with his calloused hand following the sponge, massaging the tight muscles of her lower back.
He moved lower, dipping the sponge underwater to wash the slick soreness between her thighs with his fingers gently tracing her swollen folds to clean her completely.
"Mmm~"
Mirela let out a soft breathless sigh with her head falling forward against her arms as she completely relaxed under his touch.
Klaus moved the sponge back up, bringing his arms around her waist. He pulled her flush against his chest, sliding the soapy sponge over her collarbone and down to her fuller breasts.
He washed them slowly with his large hands cupping the heavy weight of her flesh. He dragged his thumbs deliberately over her tight dark nipples, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers.
"Haah~ Master..." Mirela whimpered softly, leaning back into his chest, her eyes fluttering shut.
"You grew," Klaus noted lazily, his voice a low vibration against her ear. "Anya wasn’t wrong then... my mana fortified your entire physical structure. You look incredible, Mirela."
"It’s all yours," she breathed out, her hands coming up to rest over his wrists as he washed her. "All yours Master."
Was she trying to tempt him? It took Klaus everything not to get hard right then and there.
After he made sure her upper body was completely clean, Klaus patted her hip.
"Stand up and turn around. Let me get the rest."
Mirela stood up slowly in the waist-deep water. She turned around to face him, but Klaus stepped to the side with his silver eyes completely unapologetic as he watched her move.
The water cascaded off her perfectly round, incredibly toned ass, highlighting the flawless flare of her hips.
"I literally just said turn around so I could wash you..." Klaus teased with a slow smirk spreading across his face as he stared at her rear. "Don’t mind me. I’m just admiring the architecture."
Mirela shrieked softly with her hands flying down to cover herself as she spun completely around to face him as her entire face flushed red.
"You are incorrigible, Master! Give me the sponge!"
She snatched the wet sponge out of his hand with her goat ears pinned flat against her head in embarrassment.
"My turn," she declared, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Klaus chuckled, raising his arms slightly.
Mirela went to work, her smaller hands scrubbing the soap over his massive chest, down his incredibly dense abdominal muscles, and across his broad shoulders.
She took her time washing his lon luminescent silver hair, her fingers massaging his scalp with a tenderness that made the exhaustedness of his mind completely melt away.
When they were both clean, they stepped out of the basin. They dried off quickly in the freezing air, pulling their gear back on.
Klaus strapped his leather weapon belt tightly around his waist, adjusting the heavy sheath of his massive Soul Broadsword over his back, while Mirela laced up her heavy winter boots and pulled her dark tunic straight.
They walked back through the cavernous ground floor, passing the spot where the bed used to be, and headed straight for the open double doors.
CRUNCH!
Klaus stepped over the threshold with his heavy boots sinking deeply into the freezing white powder of the Winterlands.
The wind was howling in a biting breeze that would have frozen his old man figure solid.
Now, the snowflakes actively hissed and melted into steam the exact second they drifted within an inch of his face.
Anya was already outside.
The six-year-old Shinigami was standing near the heavy oak supply crates Klaus had moved earlier.
She was wearing her pristine dark blue dress, completely unbothered by the sub-zero temperature as the spatial magic of her lineage was insulating her perfectly.
As Klaus and Mirela crunched through the snow toward her, Anya turned her silver head.
Her striking purple eyes scanned them both and she looked at Klaus, then shifted her gaze directly to Mirela’s flushed face and fortified measurements.
"I was hoping for a sibling after all of that ruckus from yesterday," Anya stated with her melodic voice perfectly flat, sounding across the snowy courtyard. "The volume was highly disruptive to standard sleep cycles."
Mirela violently tripped over her own boots.
She stumbled in the snow, her arms flailing wildly before she caught her balance.
Her entire face was instantly dyed a brilliant shade of red.
She pulled her heavy winter fur cloak so tightly around her shoulders she looked like she was trying to strangle herself, desperately attempting to hide the dark purple bite marks Klaus’s teeth had left all over her neck.
"I—we—that wasn’t—" Mirela stammered, entirely unable to form a coherent sentence with her tail wrapped tightly around her leg in mortification.
She was no longer tucking in her tail... Klaus told her he liked it and he had even used it to pull her back while he was slamming into her.
Klaus didn’t miss a beat.
He kept his face locked into a mask of perfect innocence.
"I don’t know what you mean, kid," Klaus said lazily, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked past her. "Must have been the wind rattling the pillars."
Anya stared at him for a long ticking second.
Her purple eyes clearly communicated that she thought his lie was insulting, but she didn’t push the issue. She let out a small hum, turning on her heel and walking gracefully up beside him.
"Understood, Papa," Anya murmured.
Anya didn’t pull away as she just adjusted the cuffs of her dress, leaning slightly into his palm.
Klaus stopped near the center of the outer courtyard. He looked up with his silver eyes narrowing against the bright glare of the morning sky.
The Endless Tower, the massive monolith that had dominated the center of the Haunted Winterlands for centuries, was dying.
It wasn’t crumbling into rubble... It was simply ceasing to exist.
Starting from the very peak of the colossal spire, thousands of feet in the air, the dark obsidian stone was silently dissolving into a massive swirling cloud of pale, glowing light particles.
The spatial barrier that had sealed the valley off was almost gone, and now the dungeon itself was breaking apart with the dust blowing away into the freezing wind like dandelion seeds.
"The structural integrity of the domain is completely failing," Anya observed, tilting her head back to watch the light particles drift into the iron-gray sky. "The foundational energy source required to anchor this architecture to the physical plane has been completely eradicated as the tyrant’s magic is gone."
"So, without Ryoki acting as the battery, the tower just fades away," Klaus analyzed, crossing his arms. "Makes sense. It wasn’t built with bricks and mortar... it was built with stolen souls and spatial magic."