The city of Lumara, once a vibrant and bustling metropolis, now lay in ruins, consumed by a devastating inferno. The flames had mercilessly devoured everything in their path, reducing homes and buildings to ashes. Above the scorched earth, foot-sized craters scarred the landscape, a haunting reminder of the destruction that had befallen the city.
SAmidst the devastation, Georgia, stood overlooking the wreckage. Her long, brown hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing her determined face and piercing brown eyes. As she surveyed the desolation, her gaze shifted downward, where a group of 50 men stood before her, their arms shackled together in chains.
She smiled down at their tiny bodies bound by chains she could break with a single finger. She
Reminisced all the destruction that she had caused.
The men she had stuck in her massive pussy, only to drown in her juices, oh even now her leg spasmed with pleasure, the red stains they had made against her feet as they tried to run away from her where pleasing as well. It was almost like a wet message against her feet. Georgia licked her lips as she savored the taste of the little fighters she had eaten. It was too bad she had to leave a few men alive, oh what fun she would have if she could really let loose.
"Georgias smile grew wider as a certain man popped into her head, the man she had dreamed about for so long now.
"Braden I will certainly see you soon."
***
I stood in the immense palm of Penelope, enveloped by the comforting warmth radiating from her colossal body, I cast my gaze upon the vast expanse of the valley. The trees, stretching endlessly into the horizon, seemed to mock my departure with their permanence and unwavering presence.
My mind was a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions, each one adding to the heavy cloud that hung over me. Leaving my home after so many years felt like tearing a piece of my soul away, an agonizing separation from the place that I had sacrificed everything to find.
Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at my core. The decision I had made was one that defied societal norms and challenged the boundaries set by the world around us. Men and giantesses were never meant to mix, and yet, here I was, caught in the delicate balance between friendship and forbidden territory.
Penelope's immense size and strength contrasted with my own vulnerability, emphasizing the vast differences between us. Her towering presence, served as a constant reminder of the hurdles we faced. The warmth emanating from her palm offered solace, but it couldn't extinguish the flicker of doubt that danced within me.
my fingers delved into the depths of my right pocket, they wrapped around the cool, black steel handle of a concealed object. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, eliciting a flood of memories and emotions. With a whispered breath, I uttered the name that held both significance and sorrow—Peter.
FLASHBACK
Braden stood amidst the crowd, their faces a sea of anticipation and uncertainty, mingling with the presence of the city's citizens and soldiers. Penelope, her massive form towering behind him, cast a shadow of both protection and ambiguity. But Braden's attention was drawn to one figure in particular—a man he held in the highest regard. His voice trembled as he uttered the name that carried a weight of sorrow within it.
"Peter Hatchet," Braden spoke, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and sadness.
Braden took a few hesitant steps toward Peter, his heart yearning for understanding, for a chance to explain. But as the words left his lips, he was met with a sharpness in Peter's gaze, a steely determination that halted him in his tracks.
"Stop," Peter commanded, his voice laced with both authority and disappointment. "Braden, you have made your choice."
Braden's voice quivered as he pleaded, desperation evident in his eyes. "Please, Peter, you have to let me explain."
But Peter's gaze remained resolute, his eyes piercing with an intensity that sent a chill down Braden's spine. "Have you forgotten what those monsters have done to our kind?!" Peter's voice rang out, filled with anger and frustration.
"No, I haven't," Braden responded, his voice shaky under the weight of so many eyes fixed upon him. "But she's... she's my friend."
Peter's voice rose, his words carrying a mix of anguish and righteous indignation. "Wake up!" he yelled, his voice reverberating through the crowd. "Whoever she was to you before, that person is gone, replaced with a demon!"
A heavy silence settled over the area, permeating the atmosphere as both Braden and Peter stood, their voices exhausted of words to bridge the divide between them. The weight of their disagreement hung palpably in the air, casting a melancholic pall over their interaction.
"The gates of Endsby are forever closed to you, Braden," Peter declared, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and finality. With a solemn turn, he averted his gaze from Braden, the crowd of onlookers beginning to disperse, retreating back into the city.
Braden watched Peter's retreating figure, a profound sense of loss seeping into his being. The rejection of his home was a bitter pill to swallow, tearing at the very fabric of his identity. Yet, despite the rift that had formed between them, Peter's parting words carried a hint of the friendship they had once cherished.
"I wish you good luck, my friend," Peter said, his words drifting through the air without meeting Braden's eyes. He began his retreat into the city, leaving Braden standing there, consumed by a mixture of longing and sorrow.
As the weight of sadness settled upon his soul, Braden's gaze fell upon something small and black that had slipped from Peter's hand unnoticed. A spark of curiosity ignited within him, pulling his attention toward the object lying on the ground.
With cautious steps, Braden approached the enigmatic item, his heart pounding with anticipation. He knelt down, gingerly picking up the small, black object. As his fingers closed around it, a single glance revealed its true nature
FLASHBACK OVER
"Why Peter, why did you give me your DraughtBane?" I asked myself as I looked down at the most coveted weapon in the world, a actual DraughtBane, the weapon that Peter could never control.
My eyes fixed on the device in my hand, could feel a strange power from the metal device. It was a untamed power that could kill. This was a DraughtBane.
***
Georgia knelt down, her gaze fixed upon the ground, a mixture of reverence and trepidation etched on her face. Before her stood a colossal mountain, its peak piercing the clouds high above. The weight of her presence seemed to resonate with the ancient entity that dwelled within.
"I have returned, my master," she spoke, her voice carrying a blend of humility and determination. Her words hung in the air, a solemn offering to the force that lay dormant within the mountain's core.
As if in response to her declaration, the ground beneath Georgia's feet trembled, an ominous rumble echoing through the air. Cracks appeared on the surface, spreading like intricate veins, as the very earth seemed to bow in deference to the awakening power.
With a thunderous roar, the mountain split apart, revealing a chasm from which fiery lava erupted with fervor. The molten streams cascaded down the mountainside, creating a dazzling display of fiery light and billowing smoke. The air became thick with the acrid scent of sulfur, as tendrils of black smoke curled and twisted in a chaotic dance.
Georgia remained knelt, her eyes transfixed on the spectacle before her. It was a sight that could break the minds of the weak willed. It was the sight of massive breast that rose from the ground itself, their nipples reaching the heavens.
Georgia smiled as a massive body miles and miles tall rose from the ground. Smoke and dust filled the sky, making way for unyielding flesh of a god. Georgia looked up and smiled at the goddess whose long hair was crimson, whose skin was pure white, and whose eyes where a deep dark green. This was her master, she who was one of the four goddesses that rules this world.
"All hail the goddess of the southern lands."