Eternal Undying Chronicles

Alicarde's frustration climbed to its zenith. The bicorn collapsed weakly to its knees, gasping for air as he sat atop its broad back. The steed growled feebly, its dark body trembling under the weight of Alicarde's command. Its eyes, usually fierce, were now dull and strained, reflecting the intense exertion it felt.

Carrisa smiled at the sight, her eyes still aloof. Despite the smile akin to a naive young maiden who had just discovered her first love, there was a hint of satisfaction in her gaze. The other women observed quietly, confusion apparent on their faces as they tried to understand the situation.

Alicarde scowled as he dismounted the dark bicorn. The beast struggled to stand, its legs wobbling weakly. Fury ignited in his chest, and without warning, he spun around, delivering a forceful kick to the bicorn's side.

The impact sent the creature skidding across the ground, its massive body crashing against the pavement and tearing up chunks of stone as it rolled. Dust and debris filled the air, and the ground trembled under the force of the collision.

The bicorn struggled to its feet, its dark coat now covered in a thin layer of dust, but remarkably, it showed no signs of injury. Its large, gleaming eyes were focused solely on Alicarde as it hesitantly made its way back to him.

The creature's head hung low, submitting to the Undying's fury, and it stood by his side, trembling slightly. Alicarde's anger was palpable, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes burning with barely suppressed rage.

The ladies watched in silence. Alicarde's outrage was not surprising to them, they were well aware that his mental state was precarious at best. For the bicorn, they considered it fortunate that things had not escalated further.

"Why the hell are you smiling, Carrisa? This isn't funny. I don't see the point of having a horse I can't ride," he spoke through gritted teeth.

He had gone to great pains to tame it, only for the bicorn to prove useless. The more he thought about it, the more his anger soared.

Carrisa's smile faded, her expression turning serious.

"I was smiling because I am in a pleasant mood. Your inability to ride the bicorn is more your failing than the steed's."

Argint's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "How so? What does that even mean?"

Alicarde also wanted the answer. "Yeah, what she said."

Elizalina placed a delicate hand on her chin, appearing contemplative.

"I do believe the princess and I share the same perspective. I suspect that Alicarde has not fulfilled the fundamental prerequisite for riding a bicorn."

"What prerequisite? I already tamed him. What more do I need to do?" Alicarde's frown deepened.

Amena, who had been standing to the side, sighed before stepping forward to offer her perspective.

"A bicorn is the opposite of a unicorn. You merely need to meet the condition," she stated enigmatically, answering his question indirectly.

"Why the hell are you all speaking in riddles? Just say it already," he retorted, irritation clear in his voice.

"Alicarde, a bicorn cannot be mounted by one who is pure," Carrisa finally answered, a playful smile returning to her lips.

"What? So I need to be evil to ride one?" Alicarde asked with a trace of sarcasm.

Argint's eyes widened as she pieced together the meaning behind Carrisa's words.

Elizalina sighed softly, her tone more calm. "She does not refer to purity of heart or mind. She speaks of a pure body. In simpler terms, you cannot ride the steed because you are, in essence, a virgin."

Alicarde's eyes widened, his expression freezing in shock. The realization hit him like a brick wall—the bicorn had unwittingly dealt a significant blow to his ego.

Argint burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she struggled to contain her mirth.

"Oh my goodness, we should get you a unicorn, Miss Pure Maiden! You always tease me for never having dated anyone, but look who's the real virgin... that's right, you!"

"Perhaps we ought to enroll you in a different kind of schooling," she teased, her voice filled with mock sympathy.

'Someone kill me now, ohhh someone please kill me,' Alicarde thought, his internal turmoil suppressed.

"Maybe you should dig into some romance novels, Ali. You might acquire some valuable insights. I could provide you with several recommendations, should you desire them," Argint continued with a smirk.

"Imagine that, the fearsome Alicarde, too pure to ride his own steed. This is truly priceless," Argint's laughter echoed across the mansion grounds.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"After all those hours perfecting your grim reaper persona, you won't even get the chance to put it to use," she taunted.

Alicarde wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He stood there, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure, but his smile was strained, betraying his embarrassment. Normally, he would have a retort ready for such situations, but today, he found himself utterly speechless.

Elizalina's gaze turned contemplative. "That would elucidate why he was persistently attempting to disrobe us," she remarked thoughtfully.

'Someone kill me now,' Alicarde silently pleaded once more.

Her observation made him desire for the skies to fall on him.

Carrisa's gaze lingered on him, an inexplicable satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. For reasons unknown to him, while Alicarde was enduring his personal torment, she appeared to be in high spirits, her mood seemingly buoyant.

"Enough of this. We have more important matters to attend to," Carrisa's voice was firm and commanding, cutting through the teasing.

Alicarde had not merely been teased; he had been utterly roasted. His pride felt scorched in places a man should not feel such wounds, and his heart ached.

Despite the urge to give in to his emotions, he kept his composure, maintaining his indifferent facade.

"Now then, Alicarde, there are two ways to address our little bicorn predicament," Carrisa continued, her voice taking on a seductive edge that ensnared his attention.

"And what might those be?" Alicarde asked, his curiosity piqued despite his efforts to maintain an air of indifference.

Carrisa's voice flowed softly, every word measured, yet imbued with an unmistakable allure.

"The first option is quite simple, you must decide which one of us you would like to... deflower."

"De-deflower... what are you talking about?" Argint stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly as her usually confident demeanor wavered.

Elizalina's face was beet red. "I-I must protest. Such actions should only be considered within the bounds of a serious and committed relationship," she stammered, her voice almost breaking.

Amena was silent, her face beet red, only sneaking glances at Alicarde.

Alicarde still wore his poker face, but his heart didn't have a poker face. As he looked at the ladies in front of him, his heart stirred in a way it never had before. His blood flow increased, though his face remained calm.

"Yeah, so what?" he asked coolly.

Carrisa placed her hand in front of her chest, highlighting her curves in her black dress. Her movements were slow and deliberate, emphasizing her figure.

He looked at the other women, equally beautiful. His body hardened, and Alicarde took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Yeah, right... no way it's that convenient," he said, his tone full of disdain.

'Do they think I would fall for such a simple prank? No, not today. It's obvious they are colluding against me,' he tried to keep his thoughts clear.

Carrisa moved her hand around her body seductively.

"I see you have reservations. You are astute. There is indeed a stipulation. Should you choose to deflower any among us, you must accept responsibility and enter into matrimony. It is only just."

She continued, her tone laced with allure. "Or perhaps you wish to indulge in all four of us at once? That is quite an avaricious desire. Do you believe you possess the fortitude to manage it?"

Alicarde was even more convinced that they were plotting against him.

Argint almost choked, Elizalina was as red as the dress she wore, and Amena was even worse, her hands grabbing and releasing her maid outfit continuously.

He looked at them. 'They sure can act. I think they deserve an Academy Award. It's obvious Elly used hemomancy to make her face red. I'm not buying it.'

Even with his doubts, he suppressed the urge to gulp. His heart stirred, and he felt something rising, and it definitely wasn't the shield hero.

Noticing his body about to commit an outrage on his social life, he turned around to face the bicorn, gently stroking its mane to hide his secret shame.

'Think of rainbows and sunshine, Alicarde. Think of the sky. Ah, yes, good sleep... little brother, sleep.'

"I choose the second option. Tell me what it is. I have classes today, and I'd like to be there if you don't mind," his voice was calm, his face seemingly indifferent.

Carrisa sighed. "Very well then. I am astounded that you would relinquish such an opportunity. I assure you, my offer was genuine."

"Uh-huh. Sure you were," Alicarde said.

"The alternative choice is to utilize an enchanted saddle. I anticipated this outcome and therefore had one crafted alongside the Reaper Vestments," Carrisa said, adopting a more serious tone.

Alicarde wasn't surprised. Carrisa was the type to be a few steps ahead.

She turned to Amena, who was still somewhat red, and nodded. The maid walked off hurriedly as if she had just been liberated.

"Wow, they really went all out with this act. Have they been practicing in secret?" Alicarde whispered, watching Amena scurry off in a hurry.

Argint and Elizalina were quiet. Argint had an angry glare with a face almost as red as her hair. Elizalina was shyly stealing glances at him.

Alicarde felt the urge to smack some sense into them, especially Carrisa. He would have if he thought he could take all four of them... This was a hectic morning.

Amena soon returned, effortlessly lifting the weight of a large black saddle. It was far too big for her to be carrying alone, yet she managed with a stoic expression. The saddle gleamed with intricate patterns and a slight shimmer that hinted at its enchanted nature.

She walked past the others, handing Alicarde the large saddle. He turned around and attempted to place it on Warth but quickly realized he had no idea how to properly secure it.

Seeing his struggle, Amena stepped forward, her face still somewhat flushed.

"Here, let me help you. First, you need to make sure the girth is tight enough so it won't slip," she explained, showing him the proper way to buckle and adjust the straps.

Alicarde watched carefully, mimicking her actions until the saddle was securely in place.

After the saddle was set, Alicarde mounted the dark destrier. The bicorn's eyes glowed with violet infernal flames, its horns sharp and menacing.

Its mouth glowed with the same infernal light, highlighting its razor-sharp fangs. The powerful muscles of its sleek, obsidian body rippled under his touch.

"Forward," Alicarde commanded. The world blurred as the bicorn surged forward at a terrifying speed. Alicarde held on tightly as the wind struck him like blades, making it difficult to see or breathe.

"Stop," he ordered in his mind, and the bicorn halted instantly under the telepathic command. He found himself outside the mansion grounds, the distance covered in mere seconds.

The speed was unbelievable, and he knew this wasn't even the bicorn's top speed. Additionally, his familiar contract had sealed away most of its powers.

"Let's return," he ordered. This time, space rippled like water as they returned to the pavilion. He found Argint looking at him with wide, sparkling eyes.

"That was so cool! We should totally race," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

"Screw off," Alicarde cursed, still somewhat indignant about her teasing.