The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes

Kaisen watched the whole scene unfold, shaking his head in disbelief.

'That stupid old senile fucker... trying to take advantage of that poor girl like she's some kind of plaything!'

Though, let's be real, Kaisen was no saint. Hell, he was a certified pervert, probably had a diploma in it. But at least he had standards—he made sure the women were screaming his name in pleasure, not in fear. If you're going to be a degenerate, might as well do it right.

'Welp, better help her out. Can't have all the fun myself, now can I?'

With a flicker of movement, Kaisen was behind Jacky before the idiot even knew what hit him.

The massive mutt had just finished using some poor cat warrior like a ragdoll, slamming the poor bastard around like a chew toy before tossing him away like garbage. The guy was lucky—unconscious and spared the extra beating Jacky usually gave when he was in the mood.

"Come on, pussies! I ain't scared of any of you!"

Jacky barked, dusting off his paws like he hadn't just committed war crimes with his bare hands.

What the dumbass didn't realize was that his tribe was actually winning this battle, and the only reason he didn't know that was because Kaisen had strategically kept his interference clear from Jacky's area.

Why? Because he did not want this muscle head to think that he is actually winning this battle.

"Jacky..."

Kaisen's voice was a low whisper right next to Jacky's ear. The big dog jumped forward like he'd just been slapped on the ass by a ghost. He spun around, looking frantically in every direction, but there wasn't a single soul to be seen.

"What the fuck! Am I going paranoid now?!"

Jacky growled, his eyes wide and darting.

For a moment, Jacky genuinely wondered if he'd finally lost his damn mind. Was he hallucinating? Hearing things? That voice—the same voice that had humiliated him and made him feel like a complete idiot—was echoing in his ears again.

And Jacky, being the not-so-bright boulder of muscle that he was, figured the only explanation was he'd gone crazy mid-fight.

But then...

"Nope. You heard right."

That voice again, this time right behind him. Jacky nearly leaped out of his fur, swinging his massive sledgehammer in a wild arc around his head.

And, of course, he hit absolutely nothing. Just air. Jacky, in his infinite brilliance, was now pointing his hammer at literal thin air like he was threatening a ghost.

"What the fuck! Who's there?!"

Jacky yelled, eyes darting around like a paranoid man who'd smoked a little too much of the village's finest herbs.

"If you don't stop this stupidity right now," Kaisen whispered again, barely able to contain his amusement, "Lenon's gonna be stuffing your girlfriend's mouth with his old, worm-filled cock."

That one landed. Jacky's eyes popped so wide they looked like they were about to shoot out of his skull. His heart skipped about five beats, and every inch of his overgrown body tensed up.

He didn't know where the hell Kaisen was, but that comment sent chills down his spine faster than a cold bucket of water to the balls.

The idea of that senile old bastard Lenon... and her...?

Pure panic washed over him, leaving him more rattled than he'd ever been in his life.

Kaisen might as well have been standing in front of him with a gun to his head for all the fear that was coursing through Jacky's veins at that moment.

Kaisen was working his magic, literally. His voice, smooth and hypnotic, had Jacky dancing like a puppet on a string.

All Kaisen needed was to get that big, dumb brute out of the way, redirect him toward Elder Lenon, and then he'd have free reign to finish his real work.

And the cherry on top? July—the hotheaded firecracker who could probably snap a neck just by looking at it—was about to get defiled, or so Jacky was led to believe.

"What? How? Where are you, you asshole?"

Jacky barked, spinning in circles like a dog chasing its own tail.

Kaisen couldn't resist.

"Doesn't matter, big guy. I'm where I want to be, and trust me, you're not even close. But you better head north before your girl's breath starts smelling like Lenon's rotten-egg dick."

Before Jacky could even process that delightful image, Kaisen was gone, darting off into the shadows. He had about three seconds before his little trick wore off, and he needed to regroup and plan the next phase of his chaos.

"Is that you...?! Hello?!"

Jacky was still yelling at the air, more confused than a dog trying to catch a laser pointer. Then it hit him like a truck.

"That stupid old fucker... I'll kill him!"

His canine fangs were practically grinding into dust as rage fueled his every step. He sprinted toward the north like a rabid beast on a mission, completely oblivious to the fact that he was running straight into Kaisen's hands.

Kaisen, watching from the shadows, couldn't help but grin.

'What a good dog, following orders.'

With a satisfied smirk, Kaisen melted back into the war-torn village, slipping into the dark like a ghost, already plotting his next thirty seconds of pure, unfiltered mayhem.

...

Lenon was practically salivating at the thought of Jacky's girlfriend, July, squirming under his control.

He had plans, filthy plans—ones that would make Jacky regret every second he ever let his girl out of his sight.

The old bastard had been around long enough to know what he wanted, and right now, that "what" was a hot, younger woman who could crush a man's ego with a single glare.

July wasn't just some pretty face either—she was fierce, a walking inferno wrapped in bronze skin, legs so thick they looked carved out of stone, and lips that made Lenon's imagination run wild.

Sure, she had a temper that could knock down a house and rip a cock off quicker than most guys could drop their pants, but that's what made her exciting. A challenge. A prize worth taking.

Lenon, in all his twisted arrogance, thought he was doing the village a favor by claiming her for himself.

After all, Jacky didn't know how to handle her, letting this wild, mouthy piece of ass slip through his fingers like a clueless idiot.

But Lenon? Oh, he'd show her where she belonged—right beneath him, serving her "elder" in more ways than one.

Her leather shorts clung to her like a second skin, highlighting every curve, every inch of that body that had Lenon's heart racing like he was a teenager again.

The thought of her defiant eyes locking with his while she fought—futilely, of course—just made him grin.

She could fight all she wanted, but in the end, she'd be exactly where he wanted her—on her knees, between his legs, showing him the respect he thought he deserved.

Lenon, in his delusional arrogance, believed that July's mouth belonged on his old, wrinkled cock, like some kind of twisted reward for his "service."

The image in his head had her moaning and slurping, her lips wrapped around him, whispering how much better he was than that idiot Jacky.

"What are you waiting for, girl? You know you want to show me just how much you appreciate your elder."

Lenon sneered, practically shoving her face toward his crotch like it was some kind of irresistible gift.

July's face twisted in disgust, her lip curling so hard it practically reached her eyebrows.

The sheer stench radiating off him hit her like a brick wall—an ungodly mix of stale musk, like something between wet fur and old cat pee baking in the sun. She had to fight the urge to gag.

Her mind wandered to the pitiful sight in front of her—Lenon's thinning fur clinging to his wrinkled skin like a sad, forgotten rug, his sagging balls practically screaming for retirement.

And his cock? Let's just say calling it a "cock" was generous—it was more like a deflated balloon that had seen better days.

Honestly, she'd have more fun making a sandwich out of it than trying to get off on whatever pathetic display of masculinity he thought he was offering.

This old bastard was delusional if he thought his ancient, shriveled ass was about to turn her on.

No amount of ego, ancient magic, or twisted fantasy could change the fact that Lenon was as appealing as a dead fish left out in the sun too long.

"I'll make sure Jacky gets what's coming to him, if that's what you want. His fate's in your hands, July. There's no way in hell he's surviving today—unless..."

Lenon taunted, practically waving his decrepit cock in July's face like it was some kind of sick trophy.

Her exasperated breath fanned across his crotch, making him shiver in what could only be described as a grotesque mix of pleasure and desperation.

His ancient eyes gleamed with a perverse kind of hope.

"Alright, fine..."

July finally relented...