Dead Man’s Harem. Since I can’t kill myself, I’ll find other ways to be happy.

Chapter 137: Chapter 136 – Male visitors must visit the shrine first. Such is the custom


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[Madame Elisa] 

Age: thirty-something

Body type: voluptuous milf

Hair color: maroon red

Class: sorceress

Current whereabouts: unknown

[Countess Ilyana] 

Age: 18

Body type: voluptuous loli

Hair color: cursed white 

Class: sorcerer’s apprentice, cursed child, volatile mage

Current whereabouts: unknown

[Vesta] 

Age: mid-twenties 

Body type: toned amazonian 

Hair color: dirty reddish, dirty blonde 

Skin color: sun-bronzed honey 

Class: tribal healer

You are reading story Dead Man’s Harem. Since I can’t kill myself, I’ll find other ways to be happy. at novel35.com

Current whereabouts: just arrived at base camp with a dwarven convoy and Devon

Chapter 136 – Male visitors must visit the shrine first. Such is the custom

“Are you sure? My hut is a bit small, and a little messy. Since I am not a tribal matriarch, my hut is one of the smaller ones,” Vesta asked again hesitantly. The sun-bronzed amazonian tribal healer with teal triangular war paint on her cheeks spoke with a hint of timidity that was unexpected from a woman with such a built body and tall stature by female standards.

She was at least 180 centimeters tall if not more so, and she nearly stood at eye level with Devon. The entire tribe was made of female inhabitants with abs and muscles to fend off the jungle troubles, while still having the eye-popping feminine features that made them look like surreal MMO character creation screen anomalies, built for both sexuality and functionality with a hint of surrealism and artistry. 

“Yeah, it’s better than sleeping on the ground outside, that’s for sure,” Devon replied to Vesta’s insecurity about her hut’s size. 

He and Vesta stepped onto the warm straw bed that was strewn across the base camp’s charred jungle floor to make the floor more liveable, but before they could take another step forward, the two female amazon guards from earlier raised their spears and interlocked them, preventing Devon from advancing any further.

“Male visitors must visit the shrine first. Such is the custom,” the female guard said. “Follow me.” 

A small loli amazon girl with bright round eyes and pigtails looked on curiously at the amazon guard sisters leading in a male newcomer visitor to the tribe. The tiny girl was dressed in nothing more than a leaf shawl. Devon noticed her but averted his eyes because of legal issues. 

What a strange world this was, he thought as he followed the two amazon guards. An entire village filled with sun-bronzed women of all different sizes and ages, all with stunning faces and bodies and not a single man in sight aside from the dwarves. The dwarves were too fascinated by their own scientific calculations to care about the female beauty that surrounded them in this base camp, although their augmentations were just as prevalent as female beauty in this base camp, and could be seen everywhere. 

The two amazon guards led Devon and Vesta by spear butt to the destination. The shrine was in the middle of the village, a tapestry with lit candles laid out in front of a massive mammoth skull, its two tusks curving upwards intimidatingly. The tusk alone was so large that Devon couldn’t even touch a third of the way up if he jumped, and the skull itself was even bigger. 

And right next to the shrine was an augmentation of obvious dwarven make. A metallic elevator, with screws and dingles and metal wire cables that looked almost like they came out of the twenty-first century from earth, with a few dwarven twists like that strange screw-bolt-like thing that Devon could not recall a word in the human language to describe accurately. 

Devon was lost in his daydreams when he got shaken back into alertness by a gentle spear butt to his back. And by gentle, that was meant by amazon standards. 

The two amazon guards knelt down on one knee in front of the tapestry draped across the floor with dripping lit candles on it. Both guards simultaneously dabbed two fingers into a mortar and pestle filled with fine black powder, which was ground so finely that it looked like charcoal pigmentation from an artist’s station. They took the powder on their fingers and dragged it across the exposed upper section of their breasts, and then one line down their inner thigh. After they finished, the tribal healer Vesta knelt down and wordlessly did the same, dragging the black pigment across her breasts and then one vertical line down her inner thigh. Meanwhile, Devon stood there dumbfounded and unsure of what to do.

The female amazon guard with long eyelashes spoke first. Devon found it hard to avert his eyes from the distracting black pigment highlighting just underneath her collarbone and above her breasts. 

“Please dip the joba powder with your phallus,” she said sternly. 

Devon blinked. “Excuse me?” he said, unsure of what he just heard. 

The half-naked spear wielding guard with black pigment right underneath her collarbone and down her inner thigh motioned at the bulge in Devon’s pants with her free hand, then pointed at the mortar and pestle filled with that black pigmented powder. “Please dip.” 

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