662 Achieving FLIGHT!

The trio eventually ended up at a brothel in the evening, Geralt and Ciri walked straight in as Damien looked at the door with an awkward expression.

Geralt pokes his head out when he realises Damien wasn't with them, "We're not here for fun... Come on." he states.

Damien sighs and claps his cheeks, "For Toussaint." he says to himself to boost his confidence before walking straight in while holding his breath as if he was entering water.

Inside he's immediately assaulted with a musky smell, one he recognises as sweat, sex, alcohol, and sin... Atleast, this is what he thinks "Sin" would smell like.

He spots Geralt and Ciri already sitting at a table as a few scantily clad women walk over and start fussing over his numerous scars.

"Ooohh, I bet this scar has a story to tell?"

"I was in the stands as you slew the Monster Witcher, what a magnificent man."

"Is this your woman Witcher? I hope not, you look close enough to be related!"

Geralt growls but ignores them, gesturing for Damien to come over. The knight does so and lean in as Geralt tries to whisper something into his ear.

Damien goes slightly pale at his words but steels himself to do what he has to, he stands with his back straight and walks over to the women bothering Geralt. Grabbing the ass of both and pulling them closer to him, "Wench, I will pay for you services." he states, the women looking shocked at a knight acting so impolite.

Ciri almost shoots alcohol out of her nose when she sees this, looking at Geralt and discreetly raising her mug at him.

"I know you... You're Damien de la Tour aren't you! Did you get those scars trying to kill the Beast of Beauclair?" one asks.

Damien slowly nods, "Indeed... Now... Let us make love, I will drink myself into a stupor afterwards!" he says, pulling two of the girls into a private room by their asses.

Ciri "Well, word will definitely get around after a showing like that... I'm guessing you told him to do that."

Geralt shakes his head, "My suggestion was for him to make love to them on the table, must've been too much for him though." he says, taking another drink and watching some girls dancing in the corner of the room.

Ciri eyes him, "You can look but not touch, I doubt I could keep my lips sealed if Yennefer asked what you got up to." she says, Geralt posture immediately straightening at her name.

Geralt "Hmm, the same for you... Reima isn't the most forgiving person." he says, a smug grin appearing on his face as he spots a light blush on her cheeks.

Elsewhere :

Reima had just finished the days work and finally had some time to himself... He'd just left the Papyrus and Toriel comedy club after having an awkward meetup with Quelaag... She'd invited him and he didn't want to refuse just because of Ciri, but maybe it would have been better to make an excuse.

Quelaag looked put out after he'd refused to "Bed" her after finishing his drink, he didn't have the heart to tell her he knew exactly what she was trying to do... Now that he had some free time though he wished to practise a new ability... One that he'd realised he desperately needed after fighting against Mikogami... Flight.

Now, he could just use Voldemorts magical flight, but he found it was simply too slow to be useful in combat. Rather, he'd found another solution that'd be more than good enough for his purposes. Animagus Transformation... His Animagi form was obviously too "young" to fly, but that didn't mean he couldn't partially transform which would hopefully give him wings proportional to his size.

He didn't waste any time and started meditating next to the "Igni Bonfire of Power" due to its power positively enhancing his power and control.

From Morgan le Fay's book he knew that she herself had mastered this technique, her winged skeleton being the primary evidence for it. He closed his eyes and began feeling his form, the boundaries and limitations of it and attempting to blur the line.

The difficulty with this technique is not performing it, but specifying which trait of your Animagi animal you wanted to gain... If he was doing it haphazardly he might just end up with the head of a dragon, or even the cock... Something that would literally make him a "Dickhead".

Eventually after an hour Reima's eyes open, feeling something different about his body... Turning around he saw two... Tiny wings on his lower back. "Fuck." he curses, realising he must've gained the wrong pair of wings, his current ones resembling his Dragon's smallest set.

Again, he drops into meditation and begins the process anew, making sure to remove the current set of wings incase he makes another mistake...

Opening his eyes again he spots two huge wings folded on his back, already he could feel the tingle of magic being infused within them, the wings of dragons needing it to support their massive bodies... Though, with Reima's powerful magic he'd probably be able to fly without flapping them.

The wing themselves are black and tip with sharp-looking bone protrusions, scales cover the parts with bone to give more protection. He fiddles for a moment with the new muscles connected to his body and eventually unfurls them, having them extend around 14ft at max length, they were huge and unwieldy... But he couldn't help but feel the need to leap off the mountain and test them out.

Some of the Chaos Servants who were resting from their training almost crap their pants when Reima glides past them, his two massive wings occasionally flapping so he could gain familiarity with the movement. His speed had already broken the sound barrier, but this was more due to how much magic he was injecting into them.

The rest of the waning day was spent doing tricks around the mountain as the city below watched, most assumed their King had some ingenious intentions to his strange movements... But those with good enough eyesight or knowledge of Reima's personality could tell he was giggling like a school girl while flying around...