Entering the palace.
The main hall, oriented to the four cardinal directions, featured four long tables.
Carpets, brocades, silks, and various decorations hanging from the beams and suspended in the air...
The decor was a riot of colors and shimmering gold, giving off an immediate vibe of decadent luxury and indulgence.
Al felt an inexplicable sense of deja vu with this style. After searching his memory:
An Emir!
A Sultan's court!
An Arabyan ruler!
It's similar, so very similar...
The land of Araby lay just across the sea. Al sighed with emotion, suddenly feeling a surge of longing for that nation built upon deserts and oases.
He thought that if the opportunity arose in the future, he could send a fleet carrying a grand army south to enter that land where fertility and barrenness mingled.
Because of her massive size, his adoptive mother, the Centigor Alina, occupied one side alone to the right of the high seat.
The Goat Mom sat sideways, kneeling by the side of the high seat, where the empty space was naturally reserved for Al.
He took his seat.
"Ahhh~~~"
Stretching his limbs, Al fell back onto the Goat Mom as per his habit, his head held and gently pillowed upon her thighs.
Closing his eyes, he emptied his mind. Comfort.
The maids entered the rear hall, beginning to arrange and serve food and drink alongside the servant women.
The culinary culture of the Estalians... well, it existed, but wasn't particularly diverse.
If one had to name a specialty, the most classic and popular would be roasted dishes.
Due to the geographic feature of being surrounded by sea on three sides, their civilization had strong maritime genes and placed great importance on trade.
Spices that were expensive in the Empire—though that was in the past, as now most commoners can occasionally purchase precious seasonings—were relatively less valuable in Estalia.
Thus, spices could widely enter the kitchens and dining tables of everyone from high-ranking nobles to commoners.
Al wasn't a picky eater. In this regard, he was much like his attitude toward sex.
Having grown used to the gustatory delights of a highly developed modern society, he could withstand the trials of Old World cuisine, but he couldn't stand a constant diet of heavy spices and roasts.
While there were various fruit-based foods to cleanse the palate, Al still preferred proper meals.
Fortunately, among over two hundred thousand refugees with families in tow, it wasn't hard to find a few pots and some cooks who knew their way around a kitchen.
Al didn't know much about cooking, but he knew a few basics.
After giving the cooks a few pointers and enthusiastically supervising them, they were able to produce food that met Al's traditional dietary habits.
Alina, on the other hand, didn't care about food at all. If necessary, she could eat raw flesh—cut fresh and warm from a newly slain enemy.
The only thing his adoptive mother had ever truly praised was Al's "essence."
Whether it was a bit of bedroom roleplay or her genuine preference, she was intensely interested in extracting Al's genetic material.
She would wrap one hand around Al's shaft and extract every single drop of fluid without leaving a trace, then swallow it right in front of Al, looking thoroughly satisfied...
Al regretted that, given his level of skill, he would likely never get to enjoy the "governing through culinary prowess" treatment by surprising everyone with his cooking.
So, he decided to just peacefully enjoy his corrupted life of being served.
A half-roasted sheep was placed before Alina...
Doing this in front of the Goat Mom wasn't strange.
Among Beastmen, especially the Gors, they were skilled at herding sheep. All that dairy and wool couldn't possibly be scraped from their own bodies.
In their eyes, the possession of sapience was the key to recognizing their own kind.
When the Chaos Moon Morslieb or her twin sister Mannslieb was full, or during the only two "Witch's Nights" of the year when the twin moons hung together—
though since Morslieb had once fallen, its orbit had become even more chaotic and unpredictable. The twin moons phenomenon was no longer limited to twice a year and had become random, depending on when Morslieb approached the mortal world.
In such times, low-intelligence beasts and pregnant women faced a change.
The former might undergo a transformation during their howling, standing up to walk upright—becoming Beastmen from beasts.
The children born to the latter would highly likely possess severe beastly traits, such as horns, hooves, tails, and excessive hair.
Usually, such infants were killed or abandoned, though now there was a third option: handing them over to Beastman tribes to be raised.
So, Pigmen raising pigs, Beastmen not being beasts, Gormen herding sheep, and Minotaurs raising cattle for meat... these were all perfectly normal occurrences.
The maid served him five dishes and a soup.
Made according to his memories, per Al's instructions.
The Goat Mom ate the same food as him. In reality, Al didn't strictly need to eat.
He could sustain himself solely by drawing power from the Winds of Magic, and there were spells within the Lore of Life with similar effects.
However, this was one of Al's hobbies. Without eating, he felt he would no longer be "human."
Munch munch munch...
Snuggling with the Goat Mom...
Snuggling with the Centigor Girl...
Satiated and satisfied.
Al snuggled with the Goat Mom and Alina in turn. He dawdled until nightfall began to shroud the forest, then slipped away to the middle hall.
On the way, he ran into the duo of the Paladin and the Swordswoman.
Ann's upper body was still restricted by metal devices, but her lower half had been freed by the Paladin.
Currently, she wore a leather collar and iron chains around her neck, with the other end of the chain held in Claudia's hand.
The blackened Paladin immediately pressed up against the boy the moment she saw him, begging for sex.
She was brushed off by Al... if he agreed to Claudia, the time needed to handle the pair would consume the entire night.
Of course, Al could buff himself—revealing the true form of the Everchosen!
Using various methods to end the battle quickly and speedrun the nympho dungeon, but that gave him a feeling of being forced to "clock in" for work, a mere mechanical pounding that felt unpleasant.
Generally, Al still preferred the normal way of union, occasionally using small spells so they could both enjoy the carnal pleasures of flesh and fluid.
The rejected Paladin wasn't angry. Pulling the chain, she gave Al a clear hint that the two of them were going to find a quiet room to "entertain themselves."
If the boy was willing, he could head over anytime to take command of the battlefield.
Then she dragged the swearing, red-haired swordswoman Ann toward the rear hall.
Al rubbed his hands and walked into the middle court. His eight goat maids were already prepared, chatting softly in the palace.
Cravings, shyness, feigned composure...
Al's gaze swept across the faces of the maid corps. The "Little Hooves" were clearly delighted by the boy's arrival.
Even the most reserved and bashful goat girl hurried over, surrounding Al as they walked into the inner court.
He lay down on the spread, soft carpets, his lower body pressed against two pairs of goat-girl thighs.
His head received the dedicated service of a lap-pillow.
His left hand was taken and guided to a very soft, plump place—a spot Al frequently tasted—where two tender red beans resided.
A gentle bite and suckle would grant him a delicious, sweet gift.
Al's surroundings—above, below, left, and right—were quickly filled to the brim by the goat girls.
Surrounded by furries, not knowing what to do.jpg