Velka accompanied them to the festival grounds.

Considering the three straight days of partying, it was a remarkably clear site. Magical care meant that the grass was still green and healthy. Trash barely existed at all. Due to an excess of raw materials, the various containers that had been used to hand out food and drink were made from actual glass, wood and metal. Plastic was almost exclusively confined to use around electronics. Consequently, there was little packaging or such that could litter the area. What little there still was, the Cleaning Slimes gobbled up.

In terms of a vacated party destination, it was therefore orderly. In terms of John’s maid-overseen environment, it was a mess. Tables stained with all sorts of beverages were scattered about, moved by the drunk and the strong minded out of the orderly rows and into positions that better suited their wants. Empty metal kegs stood here and there, spreading the smell of warm alcohol.

Velka ran ahead, while the group scanned over the area. Aside from being moved out of place, everything seemed in order. The clean-up would be relatively easy. “Your world has a terribly aggressive sun,” Claire hissed.

Checking on her with Observe, it appeared that direct contact with sunlight put her at a massive disadvantage. Her MP regeneration was pushed all the way into the negative and even those familiars she had summoned previously dissolved. While her metal body seemed to be immune to the damage vampires typically took, her vampiric energies were evidently not exempt. There was also an element of sluggishness to her, but that seemed to be a psychological factor only.

“It’s a pretty bad day,” John assured. With the seasons shifting and Spring announcing itself in all its warmth, the rays could have been hot in their own right. “We do generally get a whole lot more sun than the Iron Domain did.”

“I’m terribly aware,” Claire responded, trying her best – and failing – to sound upbeat.

Aclysia put a hand on the shoulder of her protégé. “There will be plenty to do outside the sunlight,” she promised and gestured for the vampire maid to follow her. Together, they set after the Magryph, who had picked some kind of shiny thing off the ground. Having her do that was useful in its own right, since she would locate the most valuable objects first. If anyone had lost a trinket, they just had to check Velka’s hoard for it.

It was a bit weird, leaving Claire behind. There was so much more to show her. Too much to get done in any reasonable time and too much for him to do it alone. Delegating some of it to the rest of the harem was definitely the right call. It just felt alien. Both Aclysia and Claire kept gazing at him longingly. He removed himself from the area so they could do their work without being too distracted.

The maids would just do some prep work, dismantling the heaviest pieces of equipment, before the actual construction workers came and packed it all up. Delegation was the truest benefit of having a growing state and economy under his influence.

Although the party was over, the lower floor was still populated. It was well past breakfast time, but the hungover Abyssals that lugged their exhausted bodies through the hallways hardly cared. Their goal was the large hall in the north-eastern segment, where Aclysia’s maid students were putting their training to the test by providing the catering. They were passing with flying colours. The interest many had professed in hiring one of them had only grown more frequent over the past few days. Each time, John had to tell them that Aclysia was the one leading the school and that it was exactly that: a school. All of the maids were in training of their own volition and had their own choices to make about what to do after graduation.

Much as John loved the maid aesthetic and enjoyed being the benefactor of the lifestyle, he didn’t want this project of his beloved Aclysia to turn into an antiquated model of an institution that overly traditional parents sent their unruly daughters to. If they did, Aclysia would probably train those daughters to be tomboys with a servant streak, independent from their tyrannic parents but capable of properly loving other guys. Actually, that would have been quite the good outcome. John still wanted to avoid the reputation though.

In greeting, he waved at some of the people they passed. The vast majority of them would leave after today. Access to the Iron Domain was now gone, all goals accomplished, and the favours they could call in either saved for a later date or to be cashed in by the leaders of the guilds that had sent them. A few of the adventurers who had come in response to his open letter had already received a reward in the form of land and access to Fusion’s weapon manufacturers.

Once the hangovers had worn off, he expected the chambers to get vacated. If anyone overstayed their welcome, John would deal with them in time. He had so much room to spare, he was in no hurry to throw anyone out.

“Gotta love the zombies,” Metra cackled.

“They are suffering,” Lorelei remarked. “They are suffering and you are laughing.” The hint of a smile played around the seer’s lips. Prolonged contact with the harem had imbued the otherwise so meek woman with some banter.

“I’ve always found it fascinating how much shit people put in their bodies.” The First of Wrath looked after a dark-skinned man that passed them by. “And they just keep doing it.”

“If I may, y-“

“You may indeed,” Metra interrupted with a broad grin. “You know you got a bit of a verbal tick with that?”

“I have begun to notice.” Lorelei paused for a moment, then continued on in her pleasantly soft tone, “You yourself like to indulge in behaviour that’s destructive to your health for entertainment. Your soul is steeped in violence.”

“Sure is.” Metra put an arm around the considerably smaller woman’s neck. “I think we both know which one of us likes pain more though,” she whispered.

Lorelei let out the most embarrassed, adorable little cough. “If we could perhaps keep that topic for private gatherings?”

“Sure,” the First of Wrath said.

John was halfway tempted to play with the remote in his pocket. Despite what she had just said, Lorelei had been easily convinced to equip some toys many people would have described as daring. None of it was visible under that cascading, ash-grey dress of hers. “I honestly couldn’t tell you why us humans keep drinking alcohol,” he returned the conversation to its original topic. “I get away with it because I can fix my hangovers in ten minutes or less. How about you, Lorelei?”

“I have never suffered a serious hangover, John,” Lorelei responded. “My experience with alcohol has been limited to glasses of wine during special gatherings.”

“Would be interesting to see what kind of drunk you are,” John thought out loud.

“I do not particularly enjoy excess… most excess,” Lorelei corrected herself. “It is my sacred duty to the Lady to remain of sound mind to always interpret her divine grace to the best of my ability.”

Metra snorted with amusement. “There’s that zealous stick up your ass that Jane likes to talk about.”

“I… have… misgivings about the way many amongst us speak of religion,” Lorelei spoke slowly and carefully. “Please, I do not wish to be misunderstood, there’s worthwhile opinions to be had about strictness. I just… It is difficult to formulate.”

“Don’t worry, girl, I know what you mean.” Metra pulled her arm back and stretched as she walked. “Obviously my relationship with my goddess is… well, I want to tear every last one of Mother Chaos’ heads off. I’ve served under a lot of fellows over the ages, though, seen a lot of people make weird fucking choices. Adhering to a faith has been useful for quite a lot of them.”

John nodded to that. “Eliana aside, our ‘problem’ with adhering to your worship is when it prevents us from having fun in ways we’ve figured aren’t that harmful. I don’t want to turn you into an alcoholic, just let loose sometime – if you want to.”

“I will consider,” Lorelei said, sounding relieved her meaning had been understood. It wasn’t the first time John and her had talked about religion and spirituality and it wouldn’t be the last either. For his part, he appreciated having someone more mindful of divine ideals around him. The modern age looked pretty cynically towards religion in general, but there was something quite useful about the certainty of a shared set of beliefs. Dogmatism was an issue. So was hyper-individualism.

John wasn’t a particularly spiritual person, but he was also a super genius. What he didn’t understand, he could be quite certain he would be able to figure out if he put some time into it. More importantly, he had the brainpower required to look at a massive set of nuances. As the leader of a nation, he definitely needed that. To the average person, living like that was not only stressful, it also yielded barely any improvement in life. Not that they needed to adopt a religion because of it, but some kind of stance that helped simplify things they didn’t usually have to deal with certainly helped. It made for a strong motivator in difficult times when a higher ideal was backing one up.

“Considering is all I need,” John said and stopped. He pulled Lorelei close and gave her a deep kiss on the lips. The seer fervently replied. Focus of the past day and a half had been on Claire, but John aimed to give the blind woman her own time in the sun. With nothing else on his plate for the immediate future, only some ongoing worries that he could do little about, he felt it was time to spend his free time for a while just tending to his haremettes. Quality time with all of them was much needed.

John knocked on the door. A few seconds passed, then an inviting groan, as inviting a groan could sound, echoed from the other side. The Gamer let himself in.

A sweet fragrance lay thick in the air, the kind that was overpowering something else. John would have expected his friend had pounded his betrothed succubus on every surface of the room, including the ceiling, and the smell made that quite likely.

Irielz was sitting on a couch, wearing a casual combination of hotpants and a cropped top that mirrored Metra’s outfit. Using her light grey, sensual thighs as a pillow, Maximillian laid on top of her. There were more women in the room besides the two of them. Laralia, the gemini elemental, was present with both of her bodies. The white-blue slime girl’s two physical presences looked like perfect mirrors of one another. Like all other slime girls, she was made up of a gooey liquid that took the form of a highly attractive woman.

There were a few things different here, however. Laralia’s body was beset with little silver dots that connected like constellations. Her limbs were, towards the end, tinted the colour of the night sky. The most outstanding difference was that her breasts had swollen immensely in size, now reaching an E-cup. While slime girls were always shapeshifters in a limited capacity, they usually reverted to their standard shape unless they were specifically using that part of themselves.

John shifted the settings of his lenses and saw the connection that travelled from Laralia to Maximillian. Evidently, the gravity mage had finally gotten his contract with the gemini elemental, which had also evolved her to Tier 3. Her description had her as a wayfinder elemental now. Interesting was that John spotted a third line, still belonging to Laralia, which connected to, predictably, a third body which came flowing into the room. This body looked like it combined two halves of the other two, a change particularly apparent by how her bangs looked.

While the implication that quarter elementals could form new contracts was something John noted, he was distracted by the presence of additional women that he had not expected to see there. One was Alice, who sat on a nearby table just sipping tea and looking around and greeting the Gamer with an empty smile. The dark-haired, mildly tanned pariah appeared like she always did.

Then there was Amelia. The white-haired afrit was wearing her maid uniform, as was appropriate. Her single horn pointed at John, while she kept her head down and tried her best not to gaze at the Gamer. The colour of her red skin seemed particularly bright today.

“Morning,” John greeted and sat down on one of the burgundy red chairs around the dark coffee table. The room was of high class make and design, practically the peak of what a guest room in a palace should have been. Not that John, who had put it together, was neutral on the matter. “How does it feel being engaged?”

“Like pain,” Maximillian groaned. The hand that was lovingly stroking his hair stopped to pinch his cheek. “Iri, I’m a dying man!”

“Don’t die until we’re married and I get something to inherit,” the succubus joked and went back to stroking his hair.

“You get engaged and I find two new partners in your room the next day,” the Gamer remarked. “I didn’t realize you had a right to my lifestyle.”

“I have a right to all of my lifestyle,” Maximillian responded and sat up. He grabbed a glass of water, gulped down half of it, then considered whether he wanted to straighten up fully or lay back down. The latter won out and, with the pillow provided, John would not have done anything else. “Besides, Alice and I haven’t done anything.”

“He’s interesting,” the pariah threw in.

John considered how he felt about a woman he had slept with before confessing interest in another man. There was a hint of his pride rearing its head. That was it. Maybe because the deed hadn’t been done or because he didn’t see Alice as a potential romance option at all. Losing access to someone he slept with once and might do so again if she stayed available had no influence on his life.

Maybe he was still on the high of having added Claire.

“So, what’s your next move?” John asked the question he had come there for. “Immediately going to start planning the wedding?”

“No, first I’ll have to deal with the traditionalists I’ve turned against me.” Maximillian closed his eyes and let the massaging of his scalp relax him. “A lot of people were annoyed when it turned out I hadn’t fused with Hawpler. The same and even more people won’t be enthusiastic about me marrying a demon.”

“Sorry for being so troublesome,” Irielz said. Her voice was so filled to the brim with gentle love that even John got an urge to assure her.

“You’re worth it,” Maximillian responded without missing a beat. “It won’t be hard to convince them either. I just have to introduce you and show what a beautiful soul you are.”

“And that we can have our harem.” Her nature as a semen demon definitely showed in the hints of open lust that peeked through her voice as she said that.

“It’s not the norm in the Austrian ruling class, but it’s been done before, so that’ll be easier. The official titles will be concubines and handmaidens. We need differentiated legal status so the line of succession is clear.” Maximillian opened one eye and looked at John. “Either way, I’ll be heading back to Austria soon. We won’t see a lot of each other in the next few months.”

John shrugged. “It is what it is. Do I need to organize one last hurrah at the strip club?”

“Fortunately, I’ll have a wife that doesn’t know what jealousy is.”

“I know what it is, I just don’t map it onto you having other regular or irregular partners,” Irielz responded. “You’ll need to try and repeatedly make me pregnant though.”