Part 1: Arrival at the Crimson Wastelands
The dawn light bathed Rasmodius's tower in golden hues as Alaric appeared at the portal. He had abandoned his simple farmer's clothes—now he wore a set of immaculate black robes, over which a dark blue cloak fell in perfect folds. Silver runes embroidered along the edges seemed to breathe with their own light, and even Rasmodius, though no rune expert, could feel the layers of protective enchantments emanating from the garments. At his waist, the Galaxy Sword rested in its scabbard, emitting an almost imperceptible whisper of cosmic energy.
"You're late," Rasmodius greeted, his face marked by worry. "The situation deteriorated overnight."
Alaric nodded briefly, his eyes already analyzing the active Nexus portal. "How many?"
"Camilla was forced to activate the contingency barrier," the wizard explained, leading him through the circular corridor. "And worse—the Society of Mages of Ferginil sent an observer."
A brow raised on Alaric's face. "Who?"
"General Oliver."
A barely perceptible grimace crossed Alaric's face. "Naturally. Where there's chaos, Oliver will be there to document it."
Without further ado, Alaric entered the runic circle of the Nexus. The world spun in a whirlwind of colors and sensations, and when his senses reestablished themselves, he was at the outpost of the Castle Village.
The scene was one of organized chaos. Wounded adventurers crowded into makeshift tents, while healers worked under pressure. In the distance, a magical barrier visibly shuddered under the constant impact of a seemingly endless horde. Alaric recognized Clint and a young apprentice working at a field forge, their hammer blows echoing in a frantic rhythm as they repaired damaged weapons and armor.
His arrival did not go unnoticed. Whispers followed his steps as he advanced with Rasmodius. Without breaking stride, Alaric raised his right hand and traced a series of runes in the air that glowed with increasing intensity before merging with the distant barrier. Immediately, the protective field stabilized, gaining a more intense bluish glow.
They found Camilla in tense conversation with a man dressed in Ferginil's colors. The sorceress greeted Alaric with a respectful nod, but her expression remained tense.
"General Oliver," Camilla introduced. "The Council sent him to assess the situation."
Alaric greeted the general with a formal nod. "Oliver. Still collecting data while others fight?"
The general smiled, a gesture that didn't reach his eyes. "Always a pleasure, Alaric. Your... displays... are instructional for our archives."
Turning to Camilla, Alaric ignored the provocation. "Why is the Society interested in this incident?"
Before she could respond, Oliver intervened. "Incidents on such a large scale are of interest to the Council. Especially when they involve... unregulated talents."
Camilla studied the reinforced barrier with undisguised admiration. As one of the most powerful sorceresses of her generation, she understood the invisible hierarchy of power better than most—the stronger the mage, the more sensitive they were to the power nuances of others.
"Everyone must fall back," Alaric ordered. "The barrier will hold for ten minutes, no more."
He began walking toward the horde. Camilla moved to stop him, but Oliver placed a hand on her arm.
"Let him go," said the general.
"He's insane!" protested Camilla. "No mage, no matter how powerful, can face that horde alone!"
Oliver watched Alaric's retreating figure with clinical interest. "You feel his power now, don't you? What do you feel?"
Camilla hesitated. "It's... considerable. Perhaps slightly above mine."
A cruel smile played on Oliver's lips. "What you feel is merely the overflow of what he keeps contained. Alaric placed seals on his own magical essence years ago."
Rasmodius joined the conversation, his face pale. "Why would anyone do that?"
"For two reasons," Oliver explained, his eyes following Alaric's every step. "First, because his full power is too... disruptive to the reality around him. Second," he paused dramatically, "because without those seals, he would grow bored."
As Alaric approached the barrier, the pressure in the air increased exponentially. The ground began to tremble slightly, and smaller equipment in the tents began to float.
"Since the Abyssal Dragon," Oliver continued, almost to himself, "he hasn't released more than twenty percent of his power. Today, perhaps we'll see thirty."
The barrier finally gave way, and the horde advanced like a living tide of teeth and claws. Alaric unsheathed the Galaxy Sword in one fluid motion. The blade sang through the air, and an arc of pure energy vaporized not only the monsters before him but continued across the battlefield, striking a distant mountain with an impact that made the ground shake.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Oliver sighed, almost disappointed. "Twenty-five percent, no more. A shame."
The true battle had begun.
---
Part 2: The Dance of Destruction
POV Alaric
Life on the farm was deeply therapeutic—the care for the plants, the tenderness with the animals, the tranquil cycle of the seasons. All of it soothed a part of my soul that the war had wounded. But there was another part, deeper and darker, that yearned for this: for the smell of ozone in the air, for the adrenaline rushing through my veins, for the deadly dance between life and death.
As these thoughts crossed my mind, the monsters attacked me from all directions. But they could barely get close—my natural magical aura alone slowed and disoriented them. With a casual gesture, I released a shockwave that pulverized the nearest ones and tossed the rest away like dry leaves in the wind.
I watched the corpses disintegrate. Cavern serpents, gelatinous slimes—nothing more than the common monsters I encountered in the mines. But then I saw what truly intrigued me: the unique creatures of this region. Several Apophis, the legendary serpents that were supposed to appear once a century, advanced alongside a horde of corrupted serpents and ancient mummies. Most disturbing were the fallen adventurers, now reanimated by the darkness infesting these lands.
A genuine smile touched my lips. Finally, an opportunity to test a spell I had developed during peacetime.
I gripped the Galaxy Sword with both hands and focused my energy. The world around me blurred as I ascended to the skies, the air currents whipping my cloak. At the tip of the blade, a spark emerged—small at first, but quickly growing into an incandescent sphere nearly a meter in diameter. The "mini-sun" glowed with near-blinding intensity, its energy distorting the air around it.
"Cruel Sun," I whispered, recalling the anime that had inspired the technique during my restful nights on the farm.
The sphere of pure fire shot forth like a comet toward the heart of the horde. Immediately, I conjured one of the most complex runic barriers I had ever created and teleported back to the others.
The spectacle that followed was as terrible as it was magnificent. The "Cruel Sun" struck one of the Apophis directly in the face, and the entire world seemed to hold its breath before the explosion. A wave of fire and light expanded like an apocalyptic flower blooming, followed by a shockwave that shook the very foundations of reality. My runic barrier cracked in several places but held firm—without it, not only the outpost but the entire city behind us would have been wiped off the map.
When the flames subsided and the dust settled, an immense crater was revealed where an countless horde had once stood. All the monsters that had threatened us had simply... ceased to exist.
All eyes were fixed on me, a mixture of awe and terror. "Alright, alright," I said, raising my hands in a placating gesture. "I'll fix the crater, don't worry."
The expressions of disbelief only grew as I turned and began drawing glowing runes in the air. Upon activating them, the ground began to mend itself, the earth moving like water until it completely filled the enormous cavity my spell had created.
Turning to Camilla, I asked with genuine curiosity, "Do you need me for anything else?"
She merely shook her head, still speechless. My animals back at the farm needed feeding, and the milk wasn't going to milk itself.
"Rasmodius," I called, and the wizard, pale and silent, activated the Nexus without question.
As we prepared to leave, I could hear General Oliver murmuring contentedly as he finished his notes. "...simply beloved by nature and, consequently, by magic," he was saying to those nearby. His low voice still reached my ears when he grumbled about "visiting the stupid farm that stole our best mage."
A smile played on my lips. The simple life of a farmer had its advantages—but moments like this reminded me why I could never fully abandon who I was.
---
Epilogue: The Return to Peace
The afternoon sun bathed Stardew Valley in a golden light as Alaric returned to his farm. The contrast between the battlefield of the Crimson Barrens and the serenity of his home was almost surreal. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the clean, familiar air, leaving behind the scent of ozone and ashes.
His first stop was the barn. The animals greeted him with cheerful sounds—the cows lowing softly, the chickens clucking in chorus, the pigs grunting contentedly. Alaric devoted himself to their care with almost ritualistic meticulousness, as if each simple task helped him reconnect with normality. Milking the cows, collecting eggs, feeding the animals—every movement was a balm for his restless soul.
Next, he headed to the greenhouse. The warm, humid air enveloped him like a familiar embrace. His starfruit crops were thriving, the golden fruits gleaming under the filtered light. He checked each plant with professional care, adjusting the sprinklers and examining the leaves for any signs of disease. It was comforting to tend to growing things after having destroyed so much.
With the farm chores completed, a different restlessness began to stir within him. The adrenaline from the battle still coursed through his veins, and he knew he would need a more... personal way to release the accumulated tension.
It was then that he remembered the telephone he had bought from Robin's carpentry. The carved wooden device seemed almost anachronistic amid his magical life, but it had its charm.
Olivia answered almost immediately. "Alaric! I've heard rumors about your... adventures in the Crimson Barrens."
He chuckled softly. "The rumors probably don't do justice to reality. How about a version straight from the source? I have a bottle of pomegranate wine that pairs perfectly with battle stories."
It didn't take long for Olivia to arrive, wearing an elegant red dress that contrasted beautifully with her dark hair. They settled on the porch, the ruby wine gleaming in their glasses as dusk settled over the valley.
Alaric narrated the events with a mix of technical precision and dry humor, omitting only the most disturbing details. Olivia listened attentively, her dark eyes shining with genuine interest.
"But don't you get tired of it?" she eventually asked, twirling her glass between her fingers. "The violence, the destruction?"
"More than I can express," he admitted, emptying his glass. "And that's exactly why I need to find... relief for this tension I still carry in my body."
A knowing smile appeared on Olivia's lips. She rose with feline grace, extending her hand to him. "I know some excellent methods for relaxing tense muscles."
He followed her to the bedroom, where the soft twilight streamed through the windows. Olivia was already lying on the bed in a pose that was both inviting and challengingly confident.
"Sometimes," she whispered, "the best cures don't come from potions or magic, but from... human connections."
Alaric felt a smile form on his lips as he approached, the tensions of battle finally beginning to dissipate in the promise-laden air of the bedroom.
He then stands behind her and lifts her dress to her waist. After that, he sees that she is not wearing anything underneath. He quickly places two of his fingers in her slit, which enter easily due to her excitement. He also places a finger from his other hand in her wrinkled hole. After playing a little with her holes, he impatiently takes his cock out of his pants and aligns it with her slit.
In one advance, he puts it all in her. He feels his pink head push against her cervix. He then leans over her and one of his hands goes to her breast, which he pulls aside her dress, and the other to her blue curls. He presses her face hard against the bed and begins to penetrate her. He withdraws his cock almost completely slowly and then plunges it into her hard. He continues doing this slowly. The noise of their encounter spreads throughout the room along with her moan muffled by the bed. He then begins to speed up, making her come for the first time. And at that, the whole house is filled with clapping sounds.
She comes twice more before releasing his load in her MILF pussy. He releases the knot in her hair and slaps her ass hard before pulling out. He sees her pussy gushing like a fountain, which only turns him on more. He then approaches her other entrance and casts a spell. After that, he puts his entire length inside her ass. The spell not only allows him to go all the way, but also removes the pain and turns it into pleasure. He lifts her by the neck and whispers in her ear that it's getting dark and it wouldn't be good for a lady. He stops and looks at her condition and concludes that he's in his category to walk alone at night, but that she shouldn't worry, because they'll have fun all night long. He then begins to move as the MILF begs for more. He laughs in his mind and tells himself that the night will be very fruitful.
(End of Chapter 14)