Chapter 1

“The crotch is the compass of man. Since time immemorial, men have faithfully followed its direction.” His decree was met with the silent nods of the rapt bar patrons. The winged waitress paid him a sidelong glance. Her icy glare practically screamed Die! Swords and sorcery were commonplace in this world, but a woman’s eyes were the most dangerous weapons of all. No small number of men had fallen victim to their petrifying gaze and been rendered an apologetic mess. Yet the man known as Stunk was still standing. He had the grit to withstand even the most bone-chilling glare. “Incidentally, I can’t count the number of times my compass has pointed directly at you.” “Drop dead!” The waitress didn’t hold back, following her remark by smashing a beer mug into Stunk’s face. No matter how often he found himself in this situation, Stunk never learned his lesson. This time, however, her bloodlust was palpable, prompting Stunk to run right out the bar and into the local red-light district. This vast ocean creating a magnetic pull on his compass’s needle was more commonly known as the succubus district. The main road was littered with every kind of interspecies person one could imagine. They included the pointy-eared elves, the furry beastmen, winged demons—take your pick—but over 90 percent of those gathered there had one thing in common. They were men with compasses hanging between their legs. “Listen, this is just another of man’s adventures, okay?” Stunk bit down on the cigarette in his mouth and recited his mental mantra: This is the path I’ve chosen. And he really believed it. Stunk wasn’t the kind of adventurer to scale precipitous peaks or delve into dark labyrinths. For his training, there was more than enough pulse-pounding experience to be gained along these magic, lamplit streets. This was training in the form of limitless temptation. Every shop sign was emblazoned with enticing names and catchphrases, done up in the most flamboyant fonts. ALL THE FUR YOU CAN FLUFF! ALL THE GIRLS YOU CAN STUFF! ANIMAL EARS, TAILS, AND MORE! COME TO CLAWMARK PARK! PICK YOUR OWN PIXIE FOR PLAYTIME APLENTY! TINKERBELL AWAITS. STOUT AND THICK DOES THE TRICK! THE DWARVEN HOLE IS NOW OPEN. BARELY LEGAL HUMAN BABES! ONLY FORTY YEARS YOUNG! CAN’T BEAT FLEETING BEAUTIES. FOR A LESSON IN LOVEMAKING, LOOK NO FURTHER THAN IGGWARTS SCHOOL OF SEXCRAFT AND REVELRY! CLASSES ARE NOW IN SESSION. THESE ICE QUEENS WILL MELT IN YOUR ARMS! SHARE YOUR WARMTH WITH SNOW WHITE. It went without saying that these establishments offered special services. To be blunt—they were brothels. As long as men and women existed, this profession would always have a place in the world. Stunk was walking around the succubus district with one such shop in mind. Approximately 98 percent of his waking life was devoted to succubus joints. “Hey there, hero. Wanna come in and have some fun?” A portly orc rubbed his hands together and invited Stunk in. A beginner might have been tempted to reply Sure, I’d love to, but it was a textbook setup. Customers entering without thinking twice and subsequently being subjected to absolute hell was a common story here in the succubus district. Men like Stunk vacationed in hell. Stunk laughed to himself as he left the invitation hanging. “I’m no hero. Just look at my face.” “Don’t say that, bud; you look so tough! There’s a flame burning behind that cool demeanor; I just know it!” Is that how it is? Stunk scratched his chin and reassessed his own filthiness. He had a scraggly, unkempt beard, droopy eyes, and a knowing grin on his lips. His traveling clothes were worn and frayed. At first glance, he looked a bit like a vagrant. Even in the most favorable light, he didn’t give off the vibe of a hero whatsoever. “Sorry. I have plans, so I’ll be on my way.” “I should keep this under wraps, but we have an extra-special girl right now… She’s bigger than you can imagine.” “Is that so…?” Stunk took the bait. A man’s compass was always drawn toward large assets. Hang on a sec— Stunk studied the orc’s porcine face and remembered a crucial detail just in time. “What’s big about her?” “Her tits, of course. Her arms and thighs are extra thick, too. She’s a real barrel!” “…Is this an orc shop?” “Sure is! All our girls are barrel biddies! Two hundred pounds and up!” “Pass.” “But wait, there’s more! Their cheeks are jiggly like pudding! Their noses are flat as pancakes! Hey, come back, hero!” Stunk had nearly been dragged down to hell again. Flat noses and flabby bodies were orc staples. Normally, they were mocked for looking like walking pigs, but here in Interspecies Town—a true melting pot of races—there was a pretty good chance they’d find their client base. It’s not that I don’t like ’em big… Stunk was prepared to take on a big girl if the situation called for it. Even vagrants had a sense of etiquette when it came to sex. However, his compass wasn’t currently pointing toward any plumpers. “Lately, it’s been miss after miss for me…” The amazon shop he’d visited the other day was chock-full of musclebound gorilla girls—not especially great. Before that, it was shark mermaids with rough, scaly skin—also no good. And before that, there was the giant shop. It was the first time he’d found himself asking, “Is it in yet?” Come to think of it, his compass had been absolutely worthless lately. “…Oh?” Suddenly, after eyeing a particular shop sign, his compass needle jumped. THE ELVEN INN. The shop entrance was far off the road and had a sawtooth oak tree growing out front. The woodsy entryway was a nice touch. An elf shop that didn’t try to oversell the eccentricity was probably the real deal. As he walked through the doors of The Elven Inn, Stunk’s compass was as hard as a rock. Succubi fed on men. It was their species’ natural instinct and, as such, was protected by law. Taking the money and essence of men was a legal service industry. Succubus joints were an important source of revenue in any country, as they always brought in a lot of money. “Of course! All the succu-girls employed here are of genuine succubus ancestry!” …Using this line was a trade secret, not to mention one of the oldest hooks in the book. In truth, if you traced back over ten generations, it was rare for anyone to not have succubus blood in them. Past or present, men were absolutely spellbound by the fairer sex. Stunk was no exception. He routinely delved into the succubus district looking to drown himself in the female form and find himself a starving wolf—a metaphor for a woman, mind, not an actual beast species. And that was how Stunk came to have a colossal pair of breasts pressed against his chest. The twin peaks were slick with lube as they traveled across his torso, a tantalizing rhythm to their bounce. Bloop, bloop. Slosh, slosh. The bath area was foggy with white steam rising from the tub. He lay on his back, lost in the pillowy embrace. “How’s this, hun? Feel good?” Her bright-green hair swayed in time with her movements, an elegant smile playing on her lips. Her downcast gaze, coupled with her slim waist, made her a sight to behold. More than anything else, her ears, pointed like iris flowers, served as irrefutable proof of her elven blood. “Yeah, that feels amazing… Elma, you’re so cute, it’s unreal!” “Ohh, thank you so much. But I’m just a humble village girl.” “No, no—even an average elf is a beauty by human standards.” Elves were a magical species who lived in the forest. They were very skilled with bows and had a strong affinity for magic. Part of the reason The Elven Inn was so popular was because their girls had the coveted characteristics of genuine elves. They all had such youthful appearances. An elf’s life span was ten times that of a human’s, but even their oldest only ever looked to be in their twenties. As a bonus, an elf who wasn’t gorgeous was incredibly rare. Typically, they had slender builds, complemented by long arms and legs. An obese elf was unheard of. Beauty and age aside, the only physical trait that set them apart from humans was their pointed ears. This was another reason elves were a safe bet: What you saw was what you got. There was no chance of them secretly having the body of a snake from the neck down, or poisoning you if you touched them, and so on. The girls were all perfect in face and body…which meant there was only one way for Stunk to break the tie. And so he chose Elma for her bountiful bust. No matter how old men got, they would always love big boobs. They just couldn’t get enough. Using viscous cleansing lube made from slimes was standard practice for cleaning the body. “You humans are all so young and cute. I adore you.” “Y’think so? I’m getting up there in years, though. My skin’s starting to dry out.” “But your mana is so vibrant and pure. It’s turning me on.” Elma answered flawlessly and continued massaging Stunk with her breasts. Their surface area increased with the added pressure. The way they seemed to change shape reminded him of two slimes. So soft and sensual… Stunk’s face flushed red as his compass twitched. This immediately caught Elma’s attention, eliciting a sultry smile from her. She deftly moved her hand below Stunk’s waist until she found his compass, now a man’s sword. “Ah—!” A sweet sensation shot up Stunk’s rigid blade, and he shivered in response. As Elma spread the viscous gel up and down with her practiced fingers, his blade graduated from a short sword to a longsword, and then to a great sword. “Ohhh…hrngh…elves even have gorgeous fingers. Shit, this is so good…!” “My, my, you’re quite blessed… It’s a bit too big to call ‘cute,’ but its reactions are so adorable. What a man.” “Heh-heh. Yes, I’m quite proud of my little man.” On average, human members were generally larger than elves’, but Stunk’s great sword towered over the competition regardless. While it was true that size wasn’t everything, it was definitely a point of pride among men.