Story: RCM Great Hero's Descendent

 

The sounds of the catacombs echoed as the boy walked through the darkness, only the torch in his right hand in lieu of his shield allowed him to see any further than his hands.

It had been a trial just getting here, gathering the three gems needed, sealed away by Mitros to lock this treasure away. But Louise had given him the knowledge he needed, and the demons placed to guard the gems had been defeated. Now he just needed to find it.

Especially since he could hear the footsteps of someone approaching. Finally the last gemstone flashed, and he knew he was close.

It was in a room dedicated solely the housing of itself. Even in the shadows, embedded in a clear glass pedestal, the Star Blade looked as beautiful as Louise had described it. Putting away his older blade, he reached out for it-

“Who dares!?”

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Percival groaned in that way you do when you've not had half as much sleep as you need, but it's time to wake up anyway dammit. He rubbed at his eyes as if it would help, yet fully aware that it would not, and then he reluctantly opened his eyes to see -

"Good morning," said Helen, the mage who had teleported him to the Queen’s castle, sitting on a chair next to his bed. He was able to get a closer look at her now, not through choice but because to look anywhere else would be awkward. In addition to the tight blouse with a level of cleavage showing that only a mage could get away with, he saw grey eyes behind her glasses, as well as a pair of glowing sapphire earrings. Easily one of the prettier women he had ever seen. Which just made his life more difficult.

“That wasn’t a dream.” He groaned in that way you do when you really wish the answer was “No” but it was, dammit.

"Which part?" Helen asked. "The part where you were told that you were the descendant of a great hero, or the part where you have to fight the Demon King he sealed away?"

"Any of it."

Helen tilted her head and shrugged. "All real."

“I thought it wasn’t clear that Joint and the Demon King Mitros were <b>real</b> in the first place. It was over a thousand years ago…”

“Actually it’s exactly one thousand years ago. Well, records we can find indicate Mitros was sealed away on this date back then. We just didn’t find any archeological evidence of it until around five years ago.” She adjusted her glasses and nodded in confirming her own facts.

Right. Okay then, that was a lot to digest. Percival pulled his sheets over himself a little more and then went on to his less important, smaller scale question.

"Were you, uh, there all night?"

Helen nodded. "I must ensure that you are kept safe. Melly is guarding the door as we speak."

Oh Right, that serious woman. Dame Meisenta, Captain of the Royal Knights. Yeah. That was still kind of creepy. Having a mage watch over you while you sleep is not the most comforting thought no matter how tough the Knight at the door is.

“Shouldn’t the captain of the Royal Knights have, err, more important things to do?”

“No you are the most important person in the kingdom, if not the world right now.” She said without pause. "Therefore, your safety is paramount over all other things. Do you want anything? Food? Water? Perhaps some casual intercourse?"

"Some water would be - " Percival stopped himself. Nah, he must have misheard that. "Water will be fine," he finished. Probably his own sleepiness. Plus, Helen might be a weird mage but... she was really pretty. That was probably all it was. A figment of his own tired imagination.

Helen held out her hand and with a flash of starlight there was a silver tray with a pitcher of ice water and a matching goblet on the nightstand next to him. A fair bit more impressive than his own water summoning magicks.

"Um, can I have some privacy so that I can get dressed?" Percival asked.

"Oh? Ar eyou under a privacy curse that prevents you from changing your clothes?" Helen asked. "How fascinating. What a novel idea. We shall have you cured of it right away."

"No, no!" Percival waved his hadns. Ugh! Mages are so weird! "I mean, it's weird for a man to get undressed in the same room as a woman. Right?" He knew mages tended to be able to ignore social rules, but surely a woman would see the issue with being in the same room as a naked man!

"Ah, I see," Helen said. "You're uncomfortable taking off your clothes in front of me as we are of the opposite sex."

And then she started to take her own clothes off. Her blouse was unbuttoned before he could react, and he saw a blue lacy bra that barely covered her nipples…

"Gah! What are you doing?!" he yelled, diving for her reflexively to make her stop stripping down for him.

"I am making you feel more comfortable by undressing," Helen nodded. "I mean, surely this is the natural cure to your problem. Yes?"

Before he could list off all the reasons that line of thinking was fucking bonkers, something dreadful happened. To whit: The door opened. The stern and proper Dame Melisentia strode inside, saluted, and said "Good morning Sir Percival. I would like to present to you another of your appointed bodyguards, Ingrid Arresdatter!"

And then, in strolled a woman wearing flimsy looking loincloths, a leather top that only barely contained her chest. carrying a big nasty looking axe. Her skin was tanned, like she'd spent all her time out in the sun. On top of that, her hair was Big, with a capital Big. Muddy brown, and surrounding her head like a fuzzy curly helmet.

“Madam Arresdatter here is from the tribes to the north, when Her Majesty petitioned the surrounding lands for aid they sent their strongest warrior to aid in sealing away the Demon King.”

"Hi there, nice to meet -" Ingrid began, then looked down at Percival and Helen. Took in their positions. Their relative state of dress. Then turned a series of interesting colours before screaming at the top of her lungs "Pervert! Pervert! Pervert! Eeek! A pair of perverts have replace the hero and mage I am to party with! Say it isn't so!"

She pulled out her axe, which led to Melisentia grabbing her wrists to keep her from swinging said axe around. As strong as the knight was, this was clearly a losing battle judging by how her own limbs were shaking. “No! It’s just Helen! She’s always like this!”

"He-Helen's a pervert who likes showing off her body to men?!" Ingried looked faint, and quite frankly given that her attire was showing off more of her body than Helen was showing off hers right now... All Percival could do was wonder at what this girl was thinking. "Ah, please put on more clothing, I don't like seeing people in that sort of state of undress."

Again, she was wearing much less clothes than anyone else in the room. If Percival closed his eyes, he was pretty sure he could imagine her tall muscular, busty, feminine body - No, no, don't go there, that is a dangerous place to travel.

"Hrm... breasts?" Helen muttered, and then looked down at herself. "Mine are fairly big, but hers are bigger... perhaps he prefers them at that size?"

"Ahem! Ahem!" Dame Melisentia said quite loudly and pointedly. "There is a fourth bodyguard in the castle, but at present nobody is aware of where she is. I am certain that she will turn up presently. In the meantime, we should allow Sir Percival to dress, and then we shall accompany him to breakfast. From there, we shall discuss our next move."

Alright. That got everyone out of the room, at least. Now he could put on some halfway decent clothes and actually think for a bit. So... he was supposed to be the descendant of the great hero who saved the world, huh? And the world was in danger again? He was supposed to sort it out? With these three women? The only ordinary one out of them was Melisentia, and apparently there was another bodyguard still to come!

Another woman, at that. He'd caught the pronoun used. Another pretty face? He was surrounded by them, it seemed. The stoic, serious Dame Melisentia, regal to the core. That sword she carried looked like it could split a mountain, and her build backed that claim up.

Then there was Helen, a gorgeous busty mage, who had the common sense that... most people said mages had. Next to none. Actually, she might be a little worse than even the stereotype. She gave off this cool air of power, like she had the mysteries of the world at her fingertips ready to throw them out at a moment's notice.

And then there was Ingrid. Going back to the mountain metaphor, she might well qualify as one. She was tall, way taller than you'd think. She could probably deadlift him in one hand, and gave off the impression like she could maul any wild animal you aimed at her with her bare hands. Even so, her skin didn't have a single blemish on it. No scars, no sign of bruising, a pure slab of muscle wrapped up in a loincloth.

"Kya! Quit staring at my butt!"

Shame about her weird reservations about sexuality, especially given that she was a total knockout. With a single fist, she sent him flying back down the corridor, bouncing back like a tossed ball, only coming to a stop when he barrelled into something soft. A woman in white robes.

"Oh, you poor thing," an angel's voice said. A soft hand stroked through his hair. "To be abused like this. To be harmed like this... It's ghastly, unthinkable. Have no fear, you're in safe hands now."

He looked up to see... the face of an angel. A beatific smile upon a gorgeous face. Yes, gorgeous even when considering the other three beauties that he'd met recently. She was serene, she was peaceful, she was ... casting healing magic on him. That means this had to be a cleric, nun, priestess of some sort. How wonderful, a serene woman serving the gods was exactly the sort of person he needed to advise him right now.

"Mmmmmf," the woman whimpered, in a sort of... aroused way? Huh? "Oh! Oh yes, that's right! Feel your pain and injuries melt away under my gentle touch! Let it allllll wash away!"

"Eh?" Percival grunted. He did feel a lot better now, but... It was almost like she was enjoying the act of healing him? THat was weird.In fact, it almost seemed like she enjoyed healing him so much that she was -

"Yipe! Those lewd noises she's making!" Ingrid squealed. "Ew, ew, ew! Have you no shame?!"

"Ah, I see you've met your last bodyguard," dame Melisentia said, pulling Percival off her lap and turning him around to see his angel putting her hadns on her cheeks and making a quite lewd face indeed, whlie radiating a pure and holy aura. "This is Ariana, our healer."

"You're the hero?" Ariana asked. "Ohhhh, you'll be taking so much damage from the Demon King's army. You'll need lots and lots of healing, won't you? Won't you?!"

"I don't understand why Ingrid is complaining," Helen interjected, and... uh... it looked like Ingrid was smashing her hands against an invisible forcefield out of frustration. "I mean, this is perfectly practical. If she has this kind of reaction to healing, then it will motivate her to be effective at healing so we keep her around. Yes?"

The mage doesn't get it again. Ugh... This was going to get tiresome quickly -

"Especially since she'll need to breed with him at some point, just like the rest of us."

"Helen..." Dame Melisentia said warningly. "We agreed not to discuss that, did we not?"

But Percival had heard it. Heard it clearly this time around. THere was no mistaking what she had just said, and no misunderstanding its meaning. He felt like someone had cast Stone on his body. He couldn't move an inch. Was the reason he'd been given such quirky beautiful women of such varying types because... they wanted the descendants of the hero to be strong in varied ways? Was that what this was?  Or did they just want to offer variety to increase their chances of the bloodline continuing on?

That wasn't actually doing as much for his self esteem as one might think. 'Here, have a harem. It's not because you deserve it, it's because your ancestor once happened to be a great man'. Not exactly the most uplifting thing to hit the old confidence. Where other young men would jump at the chance, Percival was a bit more responsible than that. Besides! Such a relationship was-  it was really weird! And unhealthy! An environment like that was no place to raise a family. He wanted a wife. A. Wife. Not plural! Singular!

“Sir Percival.” Melisenta said, “Understand that despite what Helen may say you are not expected to  even marry us or even bed us. Her Majesty simply knows that continuing the Great Hero Joint’s Bloodline is a necessity for the future.  So she has asked us, women of noble birth, to see if we can’t fulfil this duty.”

“Though if you want to screw around nobody will complain and your bastards will be taken care of.” Helen added, which made the knight glare at her.

“T-to do… that without even getting married first… it’d be terrible!” Ingrid said, swinging, clutching her hands together and panicking. Which just so happened to make her chest bounce in ways that caught Helen’s eye.

A sigh, "I can see we have a lot of work to do before this party is ready to work well together..." Melisentia said. Yes, that seemed about right. Because Ariana was trying her hardest to heal Ingrid's knuckles after she had been pounding against Helen's forcefield, while Helen was looking down and comparing her boobs to Ingrid's. "A lot of work... A whole lot of work... I need to have a strong word with the seer who advised Her Majesty on this setup."