Warrior Training System

It had been a few hours since Cassian joined the confession line. Each confession took only a few minutes—ten at most—but with so many people waiting, progress was slow. Even so, no one complained. The Astraval guard stood watch to keep order, and not a single cultist dared make a fuss.
Cassian didn’t either. He simply waited, arms crossed, until at last his turn came. As he stepped forward, he caught sight of Kirja leaving—her face bright and oddly peaceful.
Inside, the once-empty hall had been transformed. A large wooden chamber stood in the center now, carved with intricate symbols and sacred patterns. The air around it shimmered faintly with holy mana, so pure that even Cassian felt it sting against his skin—like it could burn away any trace of darkness or sin within him.
The closer he walked, the stronger that presence grew. At the chamber’s heart were two doors—one on the left, one on the right. Analisa would be behind the left door; his place was the right. Between them, a solid wall ensured the confessor’s identity remained secret—at least, for those who still cared about such things.
But in the cult, anonymity rarely mattered. Only those guilty of crimes against the Dark Lord or the faith itself ever needed to hide their names.
But Cassian didn’t care about any of that—he wasn’t here to confess. Instead of taking the right door, he went straight through the one meant for Analisa.
She was there, waiting—or rather, glaring—as he stepped inside. Her eyes narrowed with annoyance."Why are you here?" she asked flatly.
"To confess," Cassian said, shutting the door behind him.
The chamber wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. A small window divided it from the adjoining room, shutters closed tight. The whole place looked more like a priest’s study than a confessional—complete with a low table and a cushioned chair that looked suspiciously comfortable.
"Then go over there and do it," Analisa sighed, waving him off as she reached for her glass of wine. The crimson liquid caught the light, rich and sinful against her spotless white robes and the softly glowing holy symbols around her."I’m too busy to play around right now..." she muttered before taking a slow sip.
"Well, that’s bad. I was really in the mood to play around..." Cassian said as he sat beside her.
Analisa looked at him, surprised by his forwardness—though she probably shouldn’t have been by now. Cassian’s hand slid onto her thigh as he asked, "Can’t you play and take confessions at the same time?"
She was about to refuse, but he didn’t give her the chance saying, "See how hard it is, to play with you?" Pointing toward the bulge in his pants, making her breath hitch a bit.
It caught her off guard—she hadn’t expected something that simple to stir her like that. Looking away, she muttered, "I’m going to turn you into an undead, you damn—" Her threat broke off with a sharp breath when his hand squeezed her breast a little too firmly.
"Stop it... I’m not falling for your tricks... I have confessions to take..." she tried to say, but his hands kept making her lose her words, breath hitching between protests.
Despite herself, she was starting to give in to the game Cassian was playing. Her glare softened into thought for a second before she glanced toward the door. Locking on it’s own as she said, "If you want to play, then fine—let’s play. But don’t think you can walk away halfway this time."
A faint glow formed as a magic circle spun over her hand—just as Cassian heard footsteps approaching.
Cassian raised a brow as he heard the footsteps. "Wait—hold on. It’s only a two-player game," he said, smirking. "Can’t really have a third one... unless," his grin widened, "it’s another hot lady, then maybe I could make an exception."
Before he could finish, she grabbed his hair and shoved his head down against her chest. "Shut up," she snapped, though her voice carried more excitement than anger. "That’s the next person coming to confess. I still have a few more hours of this."
Cassian’s muffled chuckle brushed against her skin. She looked down at him, eyes glinting with mischief as she added, "That way, our little game’s going to be more fun, don’t you think?"
Cassian nodded and started tugging at her robe, his voice low near her ear. One hand stayed busy on her chest, fingers tracing until they found what they were looking for. "Yeah," he murmured, "only if we don’t get caught. So maybe try not to moan too loud like a bitch?"
Analisa jerked as his touch caught her off guard, clapping a hand over her mouth just as the door to the next chamber creaked open and the next confessor stepped in.
"I wish to speak before you, Cardinal.," came the voice from the other chamber, calm but weighted with the gravity of ritual.
Analisa straightened, still keeping a hand pressed lightly over her mouth to muffle the soft moans that threatened to escape. she said, "Tell me what weighs on your soul, my child." trying to keep her voice steady as she could.
The voice from the next chamber carried on, detailing sins and burdens that had to be spoken aloud in this sacred ritual. Analisa nodded along, murmuring quiet affirmations or instructions whenever necessary, keeping her moans low, muffled, and careful.
By then, Cassian had found a way to shift her robes so her chest fell out freely, without tearing anything—a small adjustment that was enough for him. Her breasts were large and full, giving him plenty to focus on while he alternated between sucking, squeezing, and pinching her nipples. Analisa’s concentration was razor-sharp; she fought hard to suppress any sound, keeping all her will focused on not moaning.
The fear that someone might hear them—and discover her letting a man touch her in this holy chamber—made her even more tense. Even with the cultist in the next room fully absorbed in confession, and the rule that only the confessor and she could be present, the situation pushed her limits. The closeness, the touch, and the tension all combined, leaving her both cautious and, despite herself, increasingly aroused.