Riser
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🕑 Added 2025-10-04 22:20:28 +0000 UTCChapter 32: Solid Center
“Mm... kuh... haa...”
Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!
Smooch! Smooch!
Slurp, slurp
With all the throwing spears completed, Milk, needing to finish them with a fresh coating, asked the women sent from the forge for help with the finishing process. To prepare for the finishing, Milk got into position over a jar, letting his erect penis hang down, attended by three women.
One woman pressed her face to Milk’s butt, stimulating his prostate with her tongue to help him ejaculate more easily.
“Ah! Ugh!!!”
Another woman gripped his shaft, stroking it from base to tip, while the third lay beneath him, sucking on his penis and eagerly drawing out the thick, clear milk from his urethra.
With this triple assault, Milk reached climax quickly. Because he didn’t have enough milk for the finishing, he’d asked for help from three people at once, resulting in this situation.
Byuryuryuryut!!!
As Milk began to ejaculate, the two women at his rear joined the third, all working together to milk him, quickly filling the jar with fresh, white milk.
“Huff... huff... huff...”
It felt good, but Milk also felt oddly taken advantage of, resolving never to ask three people for help at once, no matter how urgent.
In any case, the freshly produced milk was used to finish the throwing spears, making them much harder and stronger than the initial prototypes. When Linda threw one, it stuck in the ground without damaging the tip, and the penetration power increased, burying more than half the spear in the earth.
After some practice, accuracy improved as well, and the spears could not only hit targets but even shatter them. Linda, thrilled by their power, exclaimed,
“With this, we could kill not just devilbears but even a saber tiger in one blow!”
The saber tiger is one of the top predators among magical beasts bigger than devilbears, extremely agile, and far more ferocious and powerful, even though it lives alone rather than in packs. It’s a dangerous beast you never want to encounter.
However, their numbers are very low and they only live in cold mountain regions, so they’re rare in these warmer areas at least for now.
“Saber tigers are really that strong?”
“Yes... they’re extremely dangerous. Do you remember the soft fur rug under the chief’s chair?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“That’s made from saber tiger hide. My mother and I hunted it.”
“Wow! Linda, you’re amazing!”
“You flatter me, haha!”
Linda explained that with most weapons, they couldn’t even scratch a saber tiger. They had to use the sharpest spear they could get from humans, attacking the mouth to finally bring it down. The hide was so tough they needed human help to skin it, trading the meat for the hide, which they made into a rug to honor the chief.
Milk felt regret hearing this Linda and her mother had done the hunting, but the benefits were shared with humans. If they’d had better metallurgy, the tribe could have kept all the gains. He resolved again to improve their forging skills and make sharper metals than the humans.
After organizing his thoughts, Milk took the finished throwing spear and headed to the chief’s house with Linda. Hearing the weapon was done, Chief Honkale and the other women had already gathered outside.
“Everyone, look! This is the new throwing spear. Unlike others, the tip is shaped like an arrowhead. Think of it as a giant arrow designed for us to throw easily. The arrowhead shape reduces air resistance, improving accuracy, and even those with less strength can inflict serious damage.”
With that, Milk threw his spear far into the distance. It landed about 100 paces away, digging deep into the ground. The blade alone was about 20cm, and the shaft buried up to 24 or 25cm.
Seeing a child like Milk throw it so far, the women realized it wasn’t very heavy. But the fact that such a light spear could bury itself so deeply amazed everyone.
“See? Even non-warriors can protect themselves. For warriors, these can help even the odds when outnumbered. The killing power is even greater for warriors. Linda, show them.”
“Yes, Milk.”
Linda pulled a spear from her back and threw it with all her strength. After just three days of practice, she could now hit targets 200 paces away.
Her spear flew through the air and slammed into the ground, the shaft quivering. When the women checked, they were speechless half the spear was buried. With the spear about 80cm long, that meant 40cm was underground.
This wasn’t soft earth, but hard, packed ground with stones mixed in normally hard to dig, but the spear went in easily.
Linda addressed the astonished crowd:
“The new throwing spear Milk made can pierce devilbear hide instantly. Just look at this target made from failed spear shafts it’s full of holes from these throws.”
She held up a piece of leather, made from the failed attempts during spear production, now riddled with holes from Linda’s throws.
Chief Honkale nodded in satisfaction and addressed everyone:
“Milk’s spear has already proven its power. Now it’s our turn. Learn to use these new spears and drive the devilbears from the back mountain to reclaim our food-gathering grounds.”
“Yes, Chief!”
From that day, the Holstaurus tribe practiced throwing spears during breaks from work.
Knowing accidents were likely due to the weapon’s power, Milk suggested a dedicated practice area, which Honkale approved, setting it up at the village entrance.
The warrior women used the range first, and the rest of the women practiced during their own breaks.
Spear throwing spread through the tribe and became a part of their culture, from adults to children.
“My turn!”
A special area was set up for children, with half-size spears and blunt tips to toss into small cylinders a game Milk adapted from a traditional Korean game, Tuho. Along with the new spear, he’d inadvertently invented a new children’s game.
“Wow! I got it in!”
“Aw, I didn’t get any in!”
“Hurry up and collect them it’s my turn!”
Even Chief Honkale encouraged the game, saying it would help train future warriors. Milk felt a little guilty, but as Ru had said, he had implicit permission to use any knowledge from his world.
Finally, the great back mountain hunt began. Milk didn’t participate in the battle but anxiously awaited the results.
After three days, the results were astonishing: 100% survival rate for the warrior women.
There were some minor and moderate injuries devilbears were numerous and some surprised the hunters but none were fatal. The seriously wounded would recover after treatment, though they’d retire from fighting and become workers in the village.
The tribe reclaimed the back mountain gathering grounds and brought back many devilbear carcasses for food and hides.
Honkale called Milk for a private meeting, patted his shoulder, and praised him with a joyful face.
“This is all thanks to you, Milk.”
“Aww... I just improved an existing weapon. The warriors did the hard work. Give them the credit.”
“Of course the warriors deserve praise, but the fact they could hunt safely and return unharmed is all thanks to you. I’m proud of you, Milk.”
After a long round of praise, Honkale handed Milk a bowl and poured him a drink made from fermented Holstaurus milk.
“Huh? I’m not allowed to drink yet...”
“I’ll allow it. Today is a special day.”
“Really? What about you, Dad?”
“Of course, I’ll drink. Cheers!”
Honkale filled a bowl twice the size of Milk’s and drank heartily. Milk joined him, toasting with the slightly sour but pleasant-tasting Holstaurus milk liquor. The bottle emptied quickly.
“If this problem hadn’t been solved quickly, our village would have faced a food crisis. That’s why I traded all this liquor with humans for food. Thankfully, it worked out, and now we have a surplus.”
“Really?!”
“It’s fine, we can always make more liquor. What matters is that no one went hungry or got hurt. Thank you, Milk.”
“Aw, you’re embarrassing me...”
“With this, no one in the tribe will object to you becoming chief. Have you made up your mind?”
“Ah...”
Milk was calmer than when first asked to become chief, having expected this conversation as soon as they started drinking.
Ru hadn’t returned with a solution yet, but Milk realized he’d been relying too much on her.
Waiting for her answer wasn’t a bad idea, but nothing would change if he only listened after becoming chief.
If he took over as chief and managed the tribe well, he’d be ready to act on Ru’s advice when she returned.
Having already made up his mind, Milk looked at the empty cup in Honkale’s hand and spoke directly.
“Dad, before I become chief, can you promise me something?”
“A promise?”
“About Chiraya and Bark... Can I handle them as I see fit?”
“Milk?”
Honkale’s face darkened perhaps misunderstanding, or recalling his own painful past.
Seeing this, Milk reassured him, taking his hand.
“I’m not saying I’ll harm them. But when Bark grows up, he’s supposed to be castrated. That’s what I mean.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I’ll think it over carefully. He’s my little brother castration is too cruel. Honestly, I’d rather send him and Chiraya to join a wandering Holstaurus tribe.”
“These days, tribes like that are moving around more. I’ve thought of it too, but would Chiraya agree? I’d almost rather Bark’s health fail and he pass naturally... He’s my son, but he could divide the tribe, and that pains me.”
“No one knows the future. But one thing’s certain: I need to be a strong leader a solid, unshakable center.”
“I see...”
Honkale bowed his head in silence. Milk waited patiently until his father looked up and met his gaze.
