Slowly at first, Harpies began to nd on the sloped nest. One by one, the flock gravitated towards the strange Goblin that had tamed and inexplicably driven off the Griffon. Dink lounged in the centre of the nest, his feet reclining on a discarded shield as a footrest. One gorgeous Harpy with vibrant crimson feathers nded next to him.

  The Harpy’s feathers only extended over their lower half and wings, doubling as arms with cwed hands at the end, leaving their Human torso’s exposed. She was the first to gather the courage to approach him, her puffed-out chest pushed forward to dispy fwless skin. It was the one that had snatched Dink up and carried him from the road.

  “Coo?” The Harpy said, skip-stepping closer to Dink with birdlike mannerisms.

  “Do you understand me?” Dink asked, casually zing in the heat of the final rays of sunset. Dink’s stomach involuntarily grumbled, inhaling a whiff of Harpy egg yolk sizzling on the interwoven branches. He gnced around at the destroyed nest before ying his head back and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not particurly interested in speaking with the descendants of failed beast-human contracts. All the brains went to the other side of the pact with the Birdfolk. As, I hunger so I will humour you. And you? You want to repopute your nest.”

  Dink opened his eyes to slits and stared at the monster girl’s generous breasts, wetting his lips with the flick of his tongue. Noticing his gaze, she puffed her chest proudly and began squawking at her peers edging closer. They hopped back with chirps and fpping their wings in protest. Another Harpy broke off and crept away while the others argued over Dink.

  Her objective was for Dink’s unfortunate companion, Harmon. He was stooped over sifting through the discarded loot of the nest in search of treasures when she snatched him up. It was the one that had dropped and recovered him moments before becoming paste on their flight through the mountains.

  “Eeek, I’m not a snack. Nor do I wish to sire any monster brats!” Harmon objected, his compints fading further away towards a neighbouring nest.

  “Heh, it’s so nice to see a present expecting father. I guess it’s my time to stop being a worthless yabout and earn my keep. I must warn you, my sweet. There’s only two outcomes to our coupling and neither will be quite what you expect,” Dink said, rising with an exaggerated stretch. The Harpy preened, obviously impressed by his athletic physique despite their differing statures. “Shall we?”

  Dink extended a hand in invitation, palm upward. The remaining Harpies dispersed in disappointment. Keening caws of grief echoed through the mountains in their wake, punctuated by Harmon entertaining his host.

  “Hohoho, do that twirl again, beauty. On my honour, you’re the first of your kind I’ve ever id with!”

  The Harpy in front of Dink frowned with obvious frustration at being unable to understand the nearby exchange. Dink delicately raised a finger to her chin, redirecting her focus back to him.

  “None of that. I’m about to show you things an uncorrupted creature such as yourself has no right in learning. Many know me as the Sword Saint while only a select few spoke of me in hushed whispers of its secondary meaning. My talents extend into all realms of battle and entwining of flesh. Come,” Dink said, a bewitching red glow within the depths of his eyes as he grasped her feathered hand, gently pulling her towards him.

  Dink smoothly transitioned her into a spin by her hand, fring her vibrant feathers. Letting go, His eyes locked with the Harpy beginning her mating dance. She began to slowly gyrate her hips, shielding her breasts with both wings held high to allow a tantalizing view of her abdomen and the seductive sway of her hips. A devilish grin grew on his face, exhirated by the sensation of the Succubus heart pulsing vigour into his extremities.

  Not one to be outdone, Dink gracefully stepped forward to join the dance. The Harpy fluttered her wings and gasped in involuntary surprise at the ease of his practised movements. They were more fit for a ballroom than a snted nest hundreds of feet above sharp rocks. Chirping in delight, the Harpy attempted to parrot him, clumsy at first but becoming increasingly natural.

  “Well, it’s little wonder the most exotic collectors value a Harpy above all others. I’m impressed,” Dink praised. His footwork faltered for a moment, the nest shifting under their combined efforts. With a flutter of excitement, Dink fwlessly recovered his footing without missing a beat. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights and I highly doubt you are either. Now should a bard ever ask, you can describe the feeling of falling for me…”

  Dink abruptly pressed a cwed hand against the Harpy’s exposed chest, squeezing to savour a cheeky feel of her supple breast. A moment ter, Dink unceremoniously pushed her out into the void of empty air, quickly following after her as the nest colpsed from its perch. His maniacal ughter prompted the Harpy to abandon parachuting her wings to dive after him.

  While they fell, the pair continued their mad mating ritual, triggering something primal resting within Dink’s core. Deep inside Dink’s consciousness, Akarad impossibly stirred, his eyes leering open beneath the waves of his mana sea. Akarad’s nostalgic thoughts remained guarded from Dink observing their entwining descent on the outside world.

  Be careful what powers you py with, little Sword Saint. A Dragon’s mating flight holds magic simir to your crude Human world ws. The outcome of such reckless actions shall succeed in the siring of a new Draconic bloodline. You are not shaped by one of the Primal races, merely an imitation of a Goblin’s appearance with a few shared traits. The cursed Hags did not see fit to complete their due diligence on your transformation into a sve race, creating chinks that can be exploited.

  What will be birthed, I cannot foresee. Perhaps without my interference to moderate his seed, a true dragon may result of this pairing instead of a Bastard bloodline. An offspring bearing my mark cannot be allowed to disrupt my pns in bringing my brethren out of their cowardly hiding. They believe I still live while the Sword Saint still carries my soul. Hmm, let me end this while I remain alert.

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