"By the nine hells, what's going on there?" Losing the vision through the automaton hound the moment it entered the cave, the Iron Queen, clicked her tongue and squeezed her fingers into the armrest of the ivory throne. Opening her eyes, she was met with an empty council room, with nobody but Grace standing by her side.
"First, Apeiron started malfunctioning and now this..." Heaving a tired sigh, she turned to the only person in that hall.
Looking down at her face, Grace offered not sympathy but constructive criticism.
"I already warned you the constant upgrades without proper testing was doomed to break that junk of tubes and wires," shifting her gaze to the front, she didn't let her master's scowling dissuade her from continuing. "Compared to you Shamisha is far more proficient in that aspect than you. Albeit, I'll admit, her genius is held back by her excessive caution at times.
No true battle models or automaton children that can match your fluidity, so you still have that I suppose..."
Glancing back down at her master, Grace found Mono back in musing. She was thinking over what she'd been told, and sure enough, in parts Grace was right. However, shifting her attention back to the first doll she'd created, Mono drew a harsher line between her and her student.
"I create art because I'm an artist while Shamisha is a pragmatic inventor too obsessed with efficiency and profit to try anything risky," seeing no flaw in that deduction, Grace remained quiet. "But in terms of efficiency and caution posed by her creations, she clearly has me beat."
"Well of course, you'd be tasked with creating an army while she a product for every home in Elenaris," Grace's sudden shift from downplaying her master's abilities to defending them caught Mono off guard for a few seconds, but quickly shrugging it off, she focused instead on the situation at hand.
Turning her head to the front, an instinctive scoff left her mouth. The nobles, royalty, and the rest of the councilmen and women had attended the meeting well while discussing their cut for agreeing to help Linkle, but ever since then, none of them ever showed up–leaving all the heavy lifting in the end on Mono's shoulders.
"Hmm?" Glamouring over Raven's somewhat disoriented yet dastardly charm, the demon peered through his clothes until she reached his groin–which left her biting her lips before eventually her mind caught up with Raven's question. "I'm a messenger from Lord Tariyaan, the honoured collector of exceptional souls."
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Looking back up at Raven's body, she glanced over not over his clothes but what lay underneath. Smiling with lust for his heart, his meat, his soul, and the passion that can be drawn from his body.
"You would make an excellent addition to his locker..." Her words rang as warning, but then with a shrug of the shoulders, she quickly spouted the true reason for her visit. "But too bad, I'm here to help that witch out of a horror's grasp and not hunt for my master's locker."
"What horror?" Raven asked, but the demon didn't answer rather beckoned him to follow her.
The mage let her lead the way even though his companion bunny girl wasn't as confident in trusting a hellspawn. Had it not been for the automaton hound, Shamisha would've rushed right out, but she had a duty to some extent to look after Raven in his injured state, she followed without question until they reached the accursed pond.
"There she is..." Muttered the demon, nameless yet noteworthy.
Gyrating her hips like a pendulum with a flash of her fleshy violet puffy teasing from between her legs, she moved closer to the lilies. All the while her heart-tipped tail stretched her bouncy cheeks to the sides to give a good look at her asshole to the two standing behind her.
"I-is it a sin to get aroused by a demon?" Asked Shamisha, gulping her angst away.