Rykard and Helenn sat on different chairs. It went against his instincts, but past lessons had shown that a submissive in the p was typically an obstruction to actually eating anything - in more ways than one.

  Across them sat Melvin. The priest obviously had no idea what to do with his life or even if he would keep it. Between bites of expensive bread, he gnced up at Rykard. The king waited until his stomach was satisfied, then he casually asked: “So I hear none of you were aware that the world creation games were real?”

  Melvin chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. The shadows of what he had witnessed happen yesterday were engraved into his face as deep bags. Regardless, he answered in a respectful tone. “Helenn talked about it… besides that, it’s never been in any of our scriptures.”

  “Wow,” Rykard just chuckled and threw a little chunk of meat into his mouth. It was somewhat fresh, maybe two days old. Part of the st tithe the temple had been paid, most likely. “I didn’t even think that was possible. I suppose you never know what has and hasn’t happened in the expanse of the universes.” He swallowed. “I take it your world wasn’t unified?”

  “Once upon a time, legend has it, we were governed by a Council of Six. Each member of the Council was blessed by one of our great gods. One day, an argument broke out, and thus the nations of the world shattered. Since then, it has been war.”

  “Hmm, Competitors making a pact, perhaps?” Rykard considered out loud. “Or just regur legend? Not that it matters… you should have listened to Helenn at one point or another. Would have spared you a lot of confusion.”

  “I’m afraid that wouldn’t have changed anything. Who would have known this random plot of nd would have been whisked away?” Melvin shook his head and let out a dry ugh. “The suggestion would have been met with mockery.”

  “Was there no proper border around this Hexagon?” Rykard asked.

  Helenn jumped in at that point. “Nope. It’s basically inseparable from the surrounding taiga. I thought that was weird myself, but I can’t tell you if that was an oversight or otherwise removed.”

  “Just a stack of miseries and poor education then… and hiriously inept theocracy,” Rykard chuckled.

  “Is this all just a game to you?” Melvin asked, between disbelief and cautious anger. They both knew Rykard was his magical superior at least twice over and that was ignoring the obvious physical differences between the well-nourished, luxury-basked lifestyle of the priest and Rykard’s war-shaped and assassination-hardened body.

  With his typical nonchance, Rykard leaned back in the luxurious chair. He reached over and, since he was done eating, picked up Helenn. The cherub did not even bat an eyesh about being lifted into her Master’s p, instead just continuing to munch on a hard pastry.

  “Sort of,” Rykard responded with a smile. “I have my goals and if you touch what is mine… well, you have seen what happens.” Melvin turned a little pale at the memory. “By and rge, there is no need for me to be serious most of the time.” He let something cruel and imperial flow into the smile - the expression of a sovereign dealing with unruly lessers. “You wouldn’t want me to anyhow.”

  Melvin just gulped.

  The people turned up around the temple in the same numbers they had left in the day prior. ‘They left the torches home,’ Rykard noted, pleased. Same could not be said for the weapons but, considering the apparent hostility of the environment, that was likely a matter of pure habit and learned wisdom.

  Rykard sat at the highest step of the temple’s entrance. The weather continued to be simply ‘pleasant’, the blessing of the gods continuing to linger and making all of these early conquests that bit easier. Holding the meeting outdoors, especially with the people’s numbers, was a lot easier. Plus, he did not want to paint himself as a holy man. He very much was not, although Helenn probably disagreed.

  The shortstack was doting on him in the best way a hovering set of tits and ass could: by pcing the former behind his head and serving as his flying cushion while she rubbed his shoulders with surprisingly strong, small hands. Melvin looked at the scene from the side, gring with as much disapproval as Rykard let him get away with.

  As long as the priest kept his morality to himself, Rykard did not care to do much about him. In all due likelihood, Melvin would become a footnote in his history, after the Hexagon was pacified. ‘Speaking of which,’ Rykard thought and rubbed his chin. “I guess that’s everyone then,” he said, voice raised, but remaining seated.

  “We would have brought more, lord, but word travels slowly around these parts!” Someone from the crowd shouted.

  “King would be the proper title,” Rykard returned and the people whispered amongst themselves. They hadn’t had a king in generations, from what Rykard had gathered. The Exile Hexagon had been in the outer areas of the theocracy, the parts that were far away from any interest.

  These people were angry and confused. They had torn down the idols that had misguided them, or would have if Rykard hadn’t arrived in time. No guidance, no idea how to move forward, no idea where they even were, exactly. At the same time, these were not broken people. The locals were hardy, rural folk, trained as much by the environment they lived in as the wars they were drafted into. Given the low popution density and general homogeneity of the people, they could survive off the nd without a central authority. Their only problems were each other. Who knew what kind of bandit warlord could potentially be rising in one of the other corners of the Hexagon?

  More importantly, Rykard needed them to follow him. A vast majority of them had to be unified in the idea that he was their ruler. Luckily for him, he was the man with the answers and the charisma to unify them all. All he needed was a central narrative, an offer of purpose, and sell what he had to offer. He could, for example, defame their priesthood further, painting them as devils, and instead put a proper theocracy in pce, worshiping their old gods or a set of new ones from Rykard’s homend - or even Helenn’s own goddess, as little as she seemed to care about direct worship.

  What he could offer them varied a lot. Addition to his realm did come with prosperity. What would he ask for in return? What was the higher goal, after the local institutions were setup, that they could strive for? What was his method of taking over? He could bribe them with New Eden’s wealth, he could beat them into submission, he could simply try to persuade him with his dream of greater things.

  All of these ideas would alter the national character of the Hexagon.

  Decisions, decisions…

  “The situation you find yourself in is pretty simple,” Rykard finally spoke up. “You were summoned to the great game of creating a new world by none other than me.”

  The revetion almost caused an uproar among the highly confused locals, but Rykard swiftly continued. Over the course of a few minutes, he expined to them in certain terms what had happened, exactly. He only lingered on the point that he had really come for Helenn for a little bit and instead focused on the bme the priests had in being so inept they couldn’t keep records of the single most common occurrence of divine intervention.

  “I will conquer this Hexagon, one way or another,” Rykard decred and finally stood up. For these rural and, frankly, brutal folk a strongman persona was required, he reckoned. Striding confidently, he stepped into the crowd, standing amongst them, but still elevated by posture and choice of clothing. “I will lead with force. Those that won’t come to heel will be crushed. All others, the rewards for following me will be plenty.”

  Rykard made a sweeping gesture at the surrounding nd. The tall pines, the luxurious building behind them, the dark earth of the soil, all of it wondrous and undeveloped.

  “Your area has much potential, especially now that the summoning has plucked you out of the frigid nds. Under me, you will have trade with other areas, and those of you that distinguish themselves will be lorded. Someone has to oversee this area in the stead of the old priesthood and who else than the most capable among you? Follow me and I will see who among you is worthy of aristocracy. Follow me further, and you’ll be the first to enjoy the fruits of my dream.”

  “What is your dream?” One of the locals asked immediately.

  “A harem for every man worthy of it!” The decration was met with surprise and some scoffs, especially by the women. “I know, the idea is alien to you. I won’t prove it to you with pretty words today. Let me make men out of you worthy of the adoration of many women. Women, let me forge a world where you have fellow haremettes that are worth sharing a man with. What do you have to lose?”

  Not Rykard’s greatest sale’s pitch, he knew that much, but the final question was the clincher. One after another, very slowly, the people mumbled between each other and then nodded. Whether they were sold on his ideas of harems and feudalism was questionable, but they certainly were willing to follow him for the time being.

  With their loyalty assured, at least for the time being, Rykard opened up the map of the Hexagon. The other’s couldn’t see it, so he etched a copy of it into the dirt using a stick and telekinesis.

  They were currently at the north-eastern temple. Burned and plundered or not, the majority of influential people would likely be hanging around the temples. A new bandit leader would make the ruins his headquarters just for the symbolic value. Holding all seven of them was the most likely way to have enough of the Hexagon behind him to have it marked as conquered in the eyes of the gods.

  The question was where to continue his conquest? He could go to one of the nearby temples and simply continue his conquest slowly. However, now that he had Helenn secured, other concerns manifested. The two temples in the south could potentially be the origin of raids into Moydra and the New Eden Estate.

  Luckily, the mountains protected the bandits from unwisely confronting Miyo and Vyra. It would have taken at least a dozen men for Rykard to begin to worry about those two. Moydra was of greater concern, although the popution centre was, thankfully, over day’s march away from the western fnk.

  Still, this was the kind of situation he needed a military for. If any of the disturbed locals set out to pilge the neighbouring Hexagons, there was little he could do. Powerful as he was, he was still limited by only being at one spot in the world at a time. A few patrols to guard the borders would make things less messy.

  That was a thought for after he had finished up here though.

  “For those among you that would fight for me, I have an order,” Rykard addressed the gathered crowd. “If you travel east, not that far from here, you will hit the grid of this new world. It's a road that borders a steep drop into freshwater. Once you reach that road, turn right. After about a day of walking, you will reach a different Hexagon of my domain, one dominated by gentle streams, flowers, and rge but harmless animals. I want you to protect the border of that Hexagon. Your rewards will be manifold and the locals should give you provisions. Tell them that the king chosen by dy Vyra sent you.”

  Rykard looked around the crowd, which slowly separated into two camps. One was those that would follow that suggestion, primarily made out of the young and unmarried. The other, fathers and those of the less adventurous persuasion, would stay to make sure the women and children were cared for.

  “And what will you do, my… king?” one of the people from the crowd asked. The title was still voiced with doubt.

  Rykard rolled his shoulders. He had no one but himself to bme for a subpar verbal performance. ‘It doesn’t matter, I’ll just show them that I’m the best they got,’ he thought nonchantly. “I’ll take over the rest of the Hexagon.”

  “On… your own?” another woman asked.

  “For the most part,” Rykard responded and squeezed the shortstack that was ever eagerly hovering within arm’s reach. “No, actually, she’ll just be pastime entertainment.”

  “And I’ll be really good at that!” Helenn squeaked confidently. Putting a hand between her colrbones, she began to list, “I can be weightless, so I am perfect for mobile usage. Obviously I’m small, so all kinds of fun things you can do with that. Also you’re so much stronger than me and I’m very flexible, so please just… fold me up.” The st few words were cooed with such an immediate need that Rykard instinctively put her into half a chokehold. “Subana bless,” she moaned.

  Rykard amused himself by the embarrassed reactions of the crowd. They respected him too much to be outraged and simultaneously were uncertain if they should be or if they just wished they could have what he did. Rykard was familiar with these sorts of reactions already. Against common intuition, the women were no less enticed by the idea than the men.

  “I’ll head west,” Rykard decred flippantly. Then he turned to the sole priest that still stood in the entrance of what had been his order’s centre of local power. “Melvin, you can keep the temple for now. Maybe forever. I’ll leave it in the hands of whoever becomes the local noble what they want to do with you.”

  The priest did not seem fazed by that announcement. Since Rykard already knew that Melvin was seen as ‘one of the good ones’ that didn’t surprise him. As far as this particur priest went, he did not have to fear retaliation from the locals because he had earned the locals’ respect.

  ‘The wonders of living an honest life,’ Rykard chuckled to himself and finally released Helenn.

  “Awwww, Master, you could have gone a little harderrrrrrr,” she compined, only to yelp in a near orgasmic cry of pain and pleasure, when he gave her plump, hovering bottom a solid smack. The entire body of the shortstack was rocked forwards, but her instincts let her stay retively anchored in her mid-air position. All that remained in motion was the curve of her bubble butt under the miniskirt of her pure white gown - that and her thick thighs of course.

  “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” Rykard asked.

  “I just care that your balls are empty, Master - that’s the job of a good toy!” Helenn decred. Suddenly, she turned back to the stunned crowd. “Ehem,” she cleared her throat, only to indicate a change in mood. If the cherub knew any shame, it was not in regard to sex. “Les, I got the fly-light done. I’ve left it on the left side of my workbench, so if you just go get that, you can hang it up in your house and it should zap all the mosquitos that have been pestering you. Meck, there’s instructions to build the same thing in the little red book on the first row of my shelf. Help yourself to whatever materials are still in my room, they should be enough to make one. Oh, also, Mara, sorry I won’t be able to repair your pump.”

  Rykard let the cherub go through the crowd and drop her various st instructions or trinkets. She was his now and he would get her a new workshop in due time, a much better one. Still, it was nice to see that his new cocksleeve was interested in being more than a cocksleeve. Women solely dedicated to sex were too shallow for his taste. To make females of character and power willingly submit, that was the true delight.

  While Helenn did all of that, Rykard headed inside and grabbed his backpack. He filled his pockets with whatever fresh food he believed would st for the immediate future and then topped up his ration reserves with the dried and otherwise sting produce.

  ‘Perhaps I should work on crafting a bag of holding sometime,’ he considered. They were difficult to make, to the point that even his parents had owned only two of them. For him, that meant it was a time investment. A couple of days spent solely on that project and he could do it, given he had the prerequisite materials. ‘Just another idea for a phrase for a future Hexagon.’

  Backpack packed and shortstack hovering next to him, Rykard set out westwards while the group of a dozen young men set out east. A dozen was not enough to patrol the entirety of the border, but it would certainly minimize the risk. Rykard gave them some final details on the y of the nd, so they would prioritize sensible chokepoints.

  Then he was in the forest. It would take most of the day to get to his next target. From the north-eastern to the north-western temple, the path was fairly straightforward and pin. Rykard would almost have called what he walked on a road, but that would have been overstating the quality. An irregurly used wagon trail was more accurate.

  “This really is the middle of nowhere, huh?” Rykard said as they advanced.

  “No, it's more like… the edge of nowhere on the way to the chasms of the void,” Helenn babbled. “Seriously, there’s absolutely nothing here, it’s impressive.”

  Even if the terrain was forgiving, Rykard was not pying with the shortstack as they walked. Carrying her weightless, hovering form on his shoulders? Yes. Squeezing her thighs at times? Certainly. Stopping to use her for a jog fuck? No, that would have been too distracting. He doubtlessly would when the night rolled around. Until then, he was happy just chatting with her.