The carriage rocked gently, carrying them farther from the city.
Arthur stared out the window, occasionally glancing at Bounchiechomie, who was stretching lazily on his shoulder like a bored jelly.
The soft creak of wooden wheels filled the space.
Peaceful—for now.
Vayne finally spoke.
"You’re pretty quiet. Where are you from, and what’s your main skill?"
His voice was flat, but not as cold as Arthur had expected.
Arthur blinked a few tis, then looked at his sli.
"...I... slap."
That was it.
The words ca out unfiltered—honestly, he wasn’t sure how else to explain it.
Vayne turned slightly, but before he could respond, Lisha suddenly—
"Ahh~ so you like slapping?"
Her sigh was soft.
Her gaze... changed.
Her lips parted slightly, eyes half-lidded—like she’d just watched a sensual perfu comrcial.
Arthur imdiately looked at Vayne for validation.
Vayne shrugged. "She’s always like that. Pretty, but a little crazy. No man’s ever touched her."
Lisha puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms. "I’m not crazy. I’m cursed, okay?"
"Hm." Vayne nodded calmly, like curses were Tuesday stuff.
Arthur was about to ask, but Lisha was already off again.
"I had a ntor once. A Priestess. But her friend was... kinda nuts. She used to tease during training. One day, he tried to grope my ass from behind."
Arthur froze.
Even Bounchiechomie stopped stretching.
Lisha didn’t skip a beat.
"I scread—like a banshee. Everyone ca running. My scream literally broke a window, I swear. That priest got kicked out of the temple on the spot."
Arthur hadn’t even processed that before Lisha dropped the climax:
"So he cursed . And the curse... well... basically, my vagina can’t be touched now. No dick can go in. So... yeah. Only anal."
Silence.
The breeze through the window hesitated.
Arthur coughed.
Vayne simply nodded, as if this was just a standard coworker flashback.
Lisha, however, grew even more excited.
"I’ve failed two engagents, you know. Both guys ran when I said, ’how about the back door first?’ They thought I was joking!"
Arthur stared at the ceiling.
’The fuck is wrong with won in this world...’
Lisha leaned forward, serious.
"But I don’t get it. Why are n afraid of ass hole? It’s just a hole. The only difference is... direction, right? you know it right? Hole is hole. If it makes a man climax, then it works, right?I an, yeah, different function... but sa goal."
Arthur took a deep breath.
"This might be the weirdest conversation I’ve ever heard."
Vayne sighed.
"The curse isn’t your problem, Lisha. Your problem is... you talk about it in public."
"What? Why?" Lisha turned.
"If you stopped promoting your ’chocolate starfish’ every five minutes, people might think you’re normal. Or at least... pitiful."
Lisha looked ready to argue—but before she could speak again—
"Bloop."
Bounchiechomie made a sound. But this ti... it sounded awkward.
Arthur glanced at his sli.
Then at Lisha.
"You even made my sli uncomfortable. That’s a milestone."
Lisha pouted.
"I was just being honest..."
Bounchiechomie slowly slid off his shoulder and curled into a semi-circle on Arthur’s lap.
"Bloop... bloop..." it muttered again.
The sli trembled faintly, like a PTSD jellyfish.
Arthur blinked.
"You okay, buddy?"
It ford a tiny puddle in response.
Arthur had no idea what that ant.
But he understood the vibe. It was the sa vibe he felt every ti he saw people remixing gender like it was low-budget trap beats.
Then—
Lisha straightened up.
"...Hmm?"
Arthur glanced at her. "What?"
She frowned, eyes narrowing.
"I sense mana ahead. Familiar... that must be the Young Master. But..."
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