This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

Trekking back to the Guild with Lucinda at her side, Rosalie's head was spinning.

She couldn't even make concrete plans on how to handle the rest of the day: either Zoey or Delta could be back in their room by now, or neither, or both. Of course, Rosalie hoped for Zoey alone: that would be easiest. Work her way into explanations one by one, starting with the person she was most comfortable with. But she doubted she'd be so lucky.

While walking, Rosalie was forced to give Lucinda some details on what had happened the past few weeks. Of course, she couldn't explain Zoey's situation in full, but if she wanted Lucinda to permit even the smallest delay, then she had to give her something. After much insistence, Lucinda conceded she would have to trust Rosalie's judgment. Especially because Rosalie emphasized that she had news—significant news—about Zoey, and other developing situations, that she intended to give only to her father.

Though, the idea of having that discussion nearly paralyzed Rosalie every time she thought about it. Even Lucinda finding her in a sex toy store might not compare to having to explain to Father just what Zoey's class was, and what it meant for Rosalie. Enzo was a practical man, but even he might balk at the cost. Not that, to Rosalie, there was any real 'cost'. But explaining to her father that she had a girlfriend who, as a means of progressing in advancement, had to fuck her into a brainless mess at least once a day—oh, gods, Rosalie didn't even know where to begin with it. How she would explain it to him without dying on the spot?

Maybe she wouldn't. Could she concoct some story that got the relevant details across, while hiding the mortifying ones?

Lucinda insisted on learning more about her team, even if Rosalie wouldn't give the exact details on the 'big secret' of Zoey's class. Because that Rosalie had found allies—permanent ones—that she intended to keep against her father's wishes was a staggering announcement, especially because Rosalie wasn't someone known for resisting her father's will.

To excuse Zoey's position on the team, Rosalie merely mentioned an unusual but powerful class, given that Zoey was untrained and would be, on first glance—especially to a woman like Lucinda—no hardened wayfarer of a caliber deserving to be called a colleague of Rosalie's.

Delta's placement was a trickier explanation, but not unjustifiable. The foxgirl was no prodigy of a generation, as Rosalie's father might have arranged as her teammate normally, but that she was so competent with zero formal training suggested an immense talent to be cultivated. Rosalie was willing to admit that much about the woman, despite her misgivings. Delta was simply an excellent offensive addition to a party, perhaps acceptable even at the highest tier of competition. And, again, she came from no notable family; she was entirely self-taught. In a way, that spoke more to her potential than her actual skill and quick progression did.

Maddy was the easiest to explain. Rosalie had quickly sussed out, in one of their first conversations at a bar, that Maddy was a daughter of the Moonlight Weaver, a prominent officer, if not especially prominent, of the Sovereign. Even at a base level, Maddy wouldn't be out of place on Rosalie's team. Doubly so if the two of them worked well together, which, admittedly, was yet to be discovered. Of course, the secretive and more important factor of Maddy's place on the team was that she seemed amenable to the requirements of Zoey's class. But Rosalie could hardly explain that to Lucinda.

Finally, the last topic of conversation they broached during their short trip to the Guild was that Rosalie hadn't told her teammates who she was, yet. Her surname. And that she intended to do so during the trip to Mantle. So, she asked Lucinda to not let anything slip.

Arriving at their destination, the sprawling hollowed-out tree that served as Treyhull's largest Guild, Rosalie led her long-time mentor and weapons trainer up the towering staircase, headed for their team's shared room.

So lost in thought, and busy with detailing her explanations to Lucinda, Rosalie had forgotten to plan for the obvious.

Both Zoey and Delta had returned for the day. And, from the noises emanating from the room she and Lucinda were approaching, they were both 'relaxing' from a hard day's work. Through very intimate means of stress relief.

Why?

Couldn't a single thing not go wrong?

Stiffly, she kept walking. It wasn't like Lucinda, of all people, had missed the moans, grunts, and slaps coming from the room. She'd likely heard before Rosalie had. Her enhanced senses were far superior—and, likely, the older woman was simply more experienced at staying aware of what was happening around her.

Not that Rosalie was some unaware dullard, but Lucinda? A living legend and one of the highest-ranked wayfarers in the world? Rosalie might be a prodigy, but Lucinda was a prodigy who had long ago filled out her boots. A once-in-a-generation talent who had earned her stripes, and proven that her potential wasn't just potential. There were mountains between the two of them.

Rosalie kept her gaze firmly ahead, ignoring Lucinda's reaction as she headed, horrifyingly, to the door emanating lewd slapping noises. Despite that, she could feel the woman's amusement growing with each step. She waited for whatever comment was brewing, but it never came. Rosalie didn't know if that was better or worse than just having the snarky comment out in the air.

Arriving, Rosalie knocked. She didn't get a response. If anything, the slapping and moans grew louder, the two women oblivious to anything besides their tryst. Rosalie knocked again, louder this time.

"Yeah, I don't think they're gonna answer," Lucinda said dryly, her twitching lips betraying her amusement. "Must be really focused on their … sparring match in there. Sounds like an intense bout." A particularly loud squeal came from the door. "Wouldn't want to stop them before they’ve decided a winner."

Rosalie wiped her hand down her face.

"Just give me a second, please. I'll take care of it." She fumbled out her key. She would rather Zoey and Delta get the message before she barged in, so they could bring themselves into something resembling modesty before meeting Lucinda, but it seemed she didn't have a choice. From the noises filling the air, they were, indeed, more than a bit distracted with each other. If Rosalie's cheeks hadn't already been tinted a permanent red from Lucinda's mortifying arrival, the ridiculous slapping and grunting sounds would have done the job.

Unlocking the door, Rosalie shouldered her way in. Lucinda leaned against the doorframe, keeping the door open with her foot while Rosalie kept walking. The layout of the room meant the bed—and Zoey and Delta—were obscured from Lucinda, which was some kind of blessing. Not that it really mattered. There were zero doubts as to what was happening. If anything, the filthy, over-the-top sounds might be worse than outright seeing what was going on.

Seriously. This was how Lucinda met her teammates? Had her mentor's arrival not been disastrous enough?

 Rosalie turned the corner, and despite having braced herself, seeing Delta pinned into the bed face-down, lying prone as Zoey's hips impacted her ass with loud, hard smacks, was enough to briefly wipe Rosalie's brain clear.

Synchronized, two pairs of eyes turned to Rosalie. Zoey's frantic rutting stilled, and Delta's lust slowly cleared from her face, blinking as she saw Rosalie.

"Ah," Delta said. "It's about time, Princess. You wanna—?"

"We have a visitor," Rosalie hissed loudly, interrupting whatever horrifying statement had been about to leave the woman's mouth. "Get dressed. Please."

Something in her tone cut through even Delta's tendency for teasing. She paused, then looked over her shoulder at Zoey.

"Visitor?" Zoey asked.

"Everything's fine. But seriously—make yourselves presentable."

Zoey looked down at the foxgirl she had pinned into the bed. Her hips were flush against her ass, all fourteen-inches of her ridiculous girlcock bulging Delta's insides out. Her hand was on the back of Delta's head, helping grind her face into the sheets. It was, in summary, an especially lewd pose. In most other situations, Rosalie might have hesitated at the display. But here, now, she hastily waved her hand.

"Now, please."

"Give us a few more—" Delta started.

"Now!"

Zoey, at least, recognized the panic in Rosalie's voice. She pulled out of Delta, making the foxgirl suck in a little gasp of air, then shuffled to the side of the bed and scooped up their clothes from the floor. She tossed Delta's to her, then started to get dressed. Delta seemed ready to keep protesting the interruption, but at Rosalie's expression, decided against it. She also started pulling her clothes on.

Rosalie glanced over to the doorway; she could see Lucinda, even if her teammates couldn't. The older woman was leaning against the doorframe, her amusement growing by the minute, however much she tried to mask it. She quirked an eyebrow at Rosalie, and Rosalie hastily looked away.

Seriously. What kind of assumptions was she making about Rosalie, her teammates, and especially, what Rosalie had been doing these past two weeks as she delayed setting off to Mantle?

Certainly nothing flattering.

And the worst part was, she was probably correct about most of it. Though, Rosalie was not some kind of degenerate. There were extenuating circumstances behind all of her indulgences. She just couldn't explain them to Lucinda.

"What visitor?" Zoey asked, slipping on her panties and her bra. "What's going on?"

"An ally of mine. Nothing bad." Sort of. "It's complicated. I'll explain. Our schedule might have been accelerated."

"Rosalie?" Lucinda's voice came suddenly from the doorway. "Who are these people?"

Rosalie's head turned.

There, in a semi-circle, surrounding a no-longer-amused, suddenly-serious-looking Lucinda, were four individuals in carved animal masks. Like they'd come fresh from a masquerade.

"We are the Church of the Shattered Sphere," the lead figure hissed, answering Lucinda's question on behalf of Rosalie. "And we've come seeking reparations. Stand aside, woman, if you have any sense. We've only come for them."

A long, wicked-looking finger outstretched itself menacingly toward Rosalie.