She tilted her head. "A relationship? Like those things where people date?"
"Yes, those things where people date... and have sexual relations," Finn replied, tired but increasingly curious.
Majestria raised a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... let me think..." She paused dramatically. "Nope! I’ve never been in one. I’m above that."
Finn staggered internally. He had assumed someone like her—hot, curvy, divine—had been in dozens. But now... he couldn’t help but feel strangely aroused by her complete innocence.
"Although..." she added thoughtfully, "I did like the God of Wheat once. But he stopped talking to me and started sending wheat sprites instead. Very odd."
Finn placed a reverent hand on her shoulder. ’My goddess... she’s completely innocent and unknowing of love. I must protect her.’
His eyes watered slightly.
"Why are you touching me?" she asked, disturbed. Then she glanced at the form. "Wait—is that a bad thing for this question?!"
"No, no, you’re fine. Just put down ’none,’" Finn reassured her.
Finn’s eyes trailed over to the next section and saw her answer for Libido: 0.
’It all makes sense now... but wait—if she’s packing that much body, why doesn’t she—ohhh. Right.’ Finn slapped a fist into his palm. ’She thinks she’s above that stuff. It’s the ego...’
Before long, Majestria finished and handed her scroll over. The receptionist repeated the same process—stamp, tube-suck, crystal-printer—but this time with an added eye twitch.
She pulled out Majestria’s card and handed it over.
Majestria took one glance and smiled. "Of course they noticed my great abilities. Hmph."
"What?" Finn leaned over her shoulder to peek.
’THIS. IS. BULLSHIT.’
He spun to the receptionist. "How come she gets Mythic while I’m stuck with Dung?!"
The receptionist shrugged. "She wrote her power level truthfully and it went through... So, are you two forming a party or what?"
Finn didn’t even bother fighting it.
He let out a soft, defeated sigh. "Yes. We would like to."
"Okay..." she muttered, pulling out a small card and scribbling on it before pausing. "What would you like to name this party?"
"Ego Eclipse," Finn said firmly, chest puffed.
She shook her head. "No, not you. Her." She pointed to Majestria.
Finn cracked inside. Screamed, even.
"Oh, how flattering..." Majestria said, putting a finger to her lips. "Hmm... Let me think... Oh, I know! Team Icarus!" she declared proudly.
Both Finn and the receptionist stared at her like she’d named it "Yeast Infection United."
The receptionist sighed, clearly in pain. "How about..." she scanned the papers in her hand, "Majestic Wiggles?"
Majestria immediately lit up. "Yes! That name has beauty in it!"
Finn blinked. "I guess... ’Ego Eclipse’ would’ve been better... Wait, isn’t that just our—"
"Okay, it’s settled." The receptionist cut him off and scribbled down the name. "Your party is officially registered as Majestic Wiggles."
Majestria gave an actual "yippee."
Finn stared at the floor, contemplating existence.
"What quest can we take?" he asked, sighing, then paused to glare. "And why did you ask her and not let me name it?!"
"Because she outranks you," the receptionist said flatly.
’That makes no sense.’
"And as for a quest..." she reached under the counter and pulled out a sketchy, black-stained box. "Deliver this suspicious item to the Cursed Woods."
He laughed nervously. "Is there not, like... anything else?"
She shook her head without looking up.
"We accept it!" Majestria said with a big smile.
Majestria patted Finn’s head like a pet. "There, there. I, the goddess Majestria, will lead this party to greatness."
Before Finn could protest, she grabbed the mysterious box with one hand—and his shirt collar with the other.
"Come on, dung boy. Let’s go."
He was dragged off like a toddler being escorted out of a Chuck E. Cheese, his shoes scuffing across the wood floor.
As they neared the exit, Finn caught Ardin’s gaze—a seething death stare laced with jealous rage. Not only had Finn humiliated him, but now Majestria, the absurdly busty divine baddie, was walking out with him.
Meanwhile, Seraphina gently rubbed Ardin’s neck, trying to comfort him... but he clearly wasn’t paying attention to her at all.
And so, their wonderful (not) adventure had officially begun.
The moment they stepped outside, Majestria lifted both feet off the ground and tapped his shoulders. "Carry me. I don’t want to get my pretty feet dirty."
Without protest—because at this point, what even was pride—Finn hoisted her onto his shoulders.
Her thick thighs settled around his neck like fluffy divine earmuffs. He hated how comfortable it was.
As they trudged through the village, Finn couldn’t help but wonder: Why was the outside of this place so grotesque, but the insides of buildings looked halfway decent? Like, shockingly decent. Almost like all the worldbuilding budget was spent on interior sets.
They passed by the "piss doctor’s" building again. It was now closed, a wooden sign hanging crooked on the door.
Finn stared at it longer than he should’ve, thinking too hard about too many things.
Some random guy in the alley beside the building—rubbing moist, fungal things onto the walls. Bacterial blobs. Sludge. Unidentifiable goop.
Finn gagged quietly. His soul itched.
Nothing in this world made any sense.
It was so absurd, so nightmarishly surreal, he honestly started to question if he was just high in a dorm room somewhere, hallucinating all of this after eating six weed brownies and a gas station egg salad sandwich.
Still, with Majestria on his shoulders, he left the village.
She adjusted her seat like a queen on a throne, totally at ease. Finn, at this point, had gotten so used to carrying her that it felt... natural. Like he was born to be her beast of burden.
As they crossed the long, rickety bridge out of town, Finn’s eyes drifted to the swampy sludge beneath.
He chose not to think too hard about it and kept walking.
Soon they reached the end of the bridge, standing before the tree line of the Death Forest—the place where all hell went down. The land of trauma. The ground zero of his garbage isekai debut.
Finn walked to the left, skirting the swamp’s edge.
If he remembered correctly, the mysterious box had a little doodle-map etched on the side: go past the Death Forest, follow the edge of the swamp in a straight line, and eventually reach a forest that whispers to itself like a creep at 2 a.m.
And sure enough—before long, they stood before it.
The Whispering Forest.
The trees were tall, thin, and twisted, bending slightly like they were eavesdropping. A light fog curled around their roots.
’What’s with this world and fogs? Is it a budget issue or a horror fetish?’ Finn thought, soul-weary.
Majestria tapped his head. "You can put me down now. This ground is clean enough for my feet."
"If you say so," Finn muttered, lowering her from his shoulders.
She turned to him with a spark in her eyes. "Wanna look inside the box? See what we’re delivering?"
"No, I really don’t—"
Before he could finish, she popped it open.
"YOU ABSOLUTE DUNCE WAFFLES! PUT ME BACK IN THE DARK!"
Majestria screamed and dropped the box like it burned her.
Finn stood frozen in horror. Inside, a severed head of some bald, long white-bearded wizard glared up at them.
She slammed the box shut and threw it at him.
Finn stared at the box. He wanted to die. Again. Preferably immediately.