Chapter 237: Dream Affinity
Kalon and Elena stared at each other for a few moments, both of them surprisingly energetic despite having just drained each other with pleasure.
When he looked at the way her body looked, he felt ready to go again despite having just came.
However, it seemed the dream had other plans.
Kalon felt his eyes opening against his will. Not the eyes of the dream, but rather the eyes in his real body.
For a few moments, it felt like he existed in two different llaces. It was a surreal feeling.
...
The next minute, he opened his eyes and found himself in the real world, sitting on the real couch like before.
The house was quiet again. Normal quiet. Pipes somewhere in the walls. Distant traffic outside the estate. The dream stillness was gone.
Elena was still asleep beside the couch, stretched on her side on the floor cushions she must have pulled close before putting him under. Her breathing was deep and even. When he touched her shoulder she did not stir at all.
A soft system note settled against his thoughts without being asked.
Low rank Dream users who pulled another person under paid for it afterward. They had to suffer through one hour of forced sleep without any natural, safe method of escaping.
Kalon left her there.
On the way to the door he checked himself properly and stopped in the hallway.
That was when he noticed something strange.
In his body, something had awakened.
"..."
The dream affinity?
The affinity settled beside the others like it had always had a place waiting. No skill came with it. Just the affinity itself, quiet and unused.
He stood there for a second, processing the events.
Sleeping and interacting with the dream user in the dream world has seemed to be his trigger.
I’ll have to see if I can earn any skills in this affinity through quests.
...
Outside, the estate gates closed behind him without trouble. He headed home, cleaned up, changed, and only then focused on the travel he had promised.
Cryos first.
[Initiating Travel Sequence...]
[Adapting body to suit conditions...]
[...]
[You have arrived!]
[Welcome to Cryos!]
Sifa was already waiting in the front hall of her mansion.
She had dressed for travel in a light ice-silk wrap that clung to her full chest and left her arms bare. The moment she saw him her ice-blue eyes brightened, and she crossed the floor quickly enough that her heavy breasts shifted under the thin fabric.
"You came."
"I said I would, didn’t I?" Kalon responded with a smile.
Sifa stopped in front of him, close enough that the cold of her body reached him.
"I still half expected you to decide it was too much trouble."
"It’s not." Kalon looked her over once. "Are you ready?"
"Yes." No hesitation this time. "It’s all I’ve been able to think about today."
The system opened before he could take her hand.
「New Quest」
「Holy Melt」
﹂Make Sifa’s body melt in a place of worship
﹂Reward: SSS+ Dream Skill
Kalon read it once and knew exactly where to go.
"Alright," he said. "I’m taking you somewhere peaceful first. A cathedral on an alien planet. It’s a safe place, but still make sure to keep close to me."
Sifa’s fingers slid into his without needing more explanation.
...
Veylora met them with warm air and the green-gold light of the cathedral grounds.
Kalon kept Sifa’s hand in his and brought her in through a side approach so they would not cut across the main gathering.
Inside, the congregation was already underway. Rows of Veylorian women knelt or sat in the open pews, many with robes cut-out at their chests in the local custom.
Up at the front, Nyphara stood before the Mother Tree’s statue with her own heavy green breasts bare, voice calm and carrying as she spoke about the body as a holy thing, about openness, about the Mother having no shame in flesh.
Kalon guided Sifa to the far back seats.
No one sat near them. The attention of the room stayed on Nyphara.
Sifa settled beside him with her wrap still closed, ice-blue eyes moving over the exposed chests and the quiet devotion in the room with open curiosity.
"They... They look so different from me, and you as well. Are they made from plants?"
"Something like that."
Nyphara’s voice continued at the front, steady and warm, speaking about the sacredness of skin and the honesty of an uncovered body. A few soft responses moved through the congregation. Sifa leaned in slightly to hear better, which pressed her full thigh against Kalon’s.
He put his hand on that thigh.
Sifa glanced at him. Kalon did not look away from the front of the cathedral. His hand slid higher under the edge of her wrap, over cold smooth skin, until his fingers found the soft heatless cleft between her legs. She was already slightly parted from how she was sitting. When he pressed two fingers against her pussy she sucked in a quiet breath and gripped the pew rail.
"Kalon—"
"They’ll hear us if you speak."
He rubbed her slowly at first, tracing her slit through the first slick meltwater that formed under his touch. Sifa’s thighs tensed, then eased open a fraction more to give him room. Up front, Nyphara kept speaking about the holy body, about offering without shame, about the Mother receiving what was given freely. None of the priestesses or disciples turned around.
Kalon pushed one finger into Sifa’s cold pussy.
Her hand clamped down on his wrist under the wrap. A thin sound tried to leave her throat and she bit it back, eyes fixed forward like the rest of the room while he worked the finger deeper. Meltwater slicked his knuckles almost immediately. He added a second finger and started a steady rhythm, curling against her from inside while his thumb rubbed above the entrance.
Sifa’s breathing turned uneven. Her full breasts rose and fell harder under the ice-silk wrap. A faint sheen of meltwater was already gathering along her collarbones and the upper slopes of her chest. She kept her face toward Nyphara, lips parted, legs open wider against the seat while Kalon fingered her in the back row with slow deep strokes.
Nyphara’s sermon about the naked body continued at the front of the cathedral.
Kalon’s fingers kept moving inside Sifa, and her thighs had started to tremble against his hand.