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The Path to Heroism	By : cyberdemon107 Category: +S through Z > WAKFU MMORPG Views: 1823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Wakfu, the characters or anything related to the show. This is a nonprofit fanfiction.

Chapter List
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A thirty foot fall followed by a perfect landing. Not one sound, not a twig out of place. Regret set in, for wasting such a powerful enchantment, but was chased out by adrenaline. Less talk, more action. Zell made a beeline through the bladethorn bush, every step like lightning, silent as a breeze. Periphery blurred. Tunnel vision was getting worse, but he trusted his feet. Faster! Up that tree, across the roots, jump unto its branch, leaping forward, both daggers flashed. Whether he knew it or not, a gigantic mass of Wakfu filled his lungs, his heart, his muscles, his hands, and the blades in them. Zell could not forget the magic; he practiced it for many years. He screamed �PIERCER� and let the wicked force loose right into the trunk with a two-hand thrust. Thunder clapped, and all went dark.
Regaining sight and hearing, he found himself on the opposite side of the monster. Sram turned to admire his handiwork. A massive X-shaped hole stood where its heart ought to be, and blood, filth and sap poured through. The gaping mouth fell silent in shock. The thorny vines were losing their wooden rigidity and wilted before his eyes. What of the girl? Would he have to climb to get her out of the tree? Zell looked up, searching the frozen claws for a shape. He saw the white-and-red-cross apron-thing up above, but something was wrong. The cloth was empty. Was she eaten? Maybe in pieces? His gaze drifted down and found her lying in mud, wearing only knee-high boots. The long legs met her full hips, round buttocks and disproportionately keen waist. Her back was covered in her blazing orange hair, splattered with mud and an occasional streak of blood, with-
Wait blood? The young Sram�s lustful thoughts blew away in an instant. They were still in terrible danger. The treechnid�s death would draw scavengers, in masses. Now, clear of mind, he heard faint shuffling in the underbrush at a distance. There was no time to waste. A thrown dagger caught the cape-apron. Zell grabbed what he could find: the broken swordhilt, a backpack, clothes and the surprisingly heavy girl. Cradle carry was out of the question. A cape secured her to his back and he jogged forward as fast as he could, trying, desperately fighting the feeling of her nipples pressing into his back, through the skin-tight bodysuit. Her breathing was a relief, but the warm air was hitting the back of his neck, driving his concentration down.� The potion must be better than I thought", he thought out loud. Not one monster was met along the way, and even the forest seemed clearer. But the jog was not an easy one. He came to the hideout, a clearing by a spring, surrounded by the thickest bladethorn growth around. Getting in alone was simplistic, but climbing a tree with a passenger proved problematic. The soft breasts rubbing on his back did not help, and they both almost plummeted to the ground. He made it, and, cradling the girl, took one more careful leap into safety, coming to rest on the ground. The landing was not the softest, but they weren't injured. Zell thanked Sram for keeping him safe, eased the Iop unto a pile of leaves. And after a breather, he went looking for his medkit.

The spring water, and the apron-cape proved useful in getting the dirt off the girl. But Zell found it increasingly difficult to keep attention to medicinal purposes. The injuries were minor. Her breathing was regular, face calm. Some bruises, scratches, a deep gash on the thigh. A few bandages and a roll of gauze fixed the problem right up. The leg was the most difficult of all. He had to rest it on his shoulder while wrapping and his attention wandered. Such smooth skin. Such tone and warm muscles. Occasionally, he would let his hand "slip" and brushed across her pubes. She was so different from the Sram girls. After finishing with the thigh, he set it down, inadvertently spreading her legs. The picture consumed his attention. No, she was no Sram. They are more fit but featureless, limber pale, and without a single hair below their eyelashes but flatter than a mirror. This girl did not compare in any category. Her scarcity of clothing left her tan, her muscles visible, but not overbearing. She definitely fought her share, shins and knuckles felt bruised and hardened. Her� her pussy was covered in soft, orange hair. He had to touch it again. Zell cautiously palmed her crotch, keeping a careful eye on her face, watching for any change in expression. Evidently not. His fingers traveled down, exploring the narrow slit and down towards her perfectly shaped button of her anus. His fingers slid along, again, and again. Warmth came, then a feeling of moisture. A middle finger gently slipped through, feeling the warm invite of her pussy, but the girl winced, making him freeze in place. Too direct. Not now. His hands ventured up, caressing wide but firm hips and unto her stomach. Even there he felt muscle just under the soft skin, ready to bring great pain to anything breakable. Above that� his concentration evaporated. He gazed upon the largest breasts he has ever seen on any girl that age. How could she fight with those? Is that why they are so strong? He had to have a feel. A cautious finger touched, then a hand wrapped around the fleshy mass. How incredibly soft! His fingers sunk in deeper. Like kneading fresh dough... The other hand followed. Zell could not break contact, it was utterly intoxicating. He pushed them together, pulled them apart. He squeezed them to her chest and gently pulled by the nipples. He traced the auveola with his thumbs, felt the weight in both his hands. Once more! Just a little harder! His fingers could not get enough. No, the hands were not enough. Gripping a puffy breast in one hand he reached and unhooked his mask. Just a quick taste! It slid up like a visor and smells overwhelmed him. The unmistakable fragrance of her hair, a sweet smell of her sweat, metallic smell of blood and the forest foliage in the background.

Blood? Zell leapt to his feet and bit his wrist with all his might. Reality came tumbling down. The girl was hurt. What happened to heroism? Surely he didn't play champion of justice just to rape her in place of the monster? The throbbing pain of guilt overcame the youth, making his knees weak. "Ok, leave her to rest. Wake up tomorrow, have thank-you sex just like a real hero would. Cover her with a cape so she does not catch a�� The monologue came to a crashing halt as he turned and walked into the hardest punch he ever felt in his life, head-on. Everything went dark as Zell felt himself drift, whether to a dream or through the air.

And a pleasant dream it was, thought the young Sram. The beautiful girl straddled him. Her warm pussy was rubbing right on his chest, every hair pricking his skin through the barely-tangible fabric of the skin-tight catsuit. The curvy hips clenched his thin torso, and the narrow waist lead his eyes all the way to the gorgeous breasts, swaying overhead. A drop of sweat rolled down one and landed on his chest. And above, the hands gripped one of his daggers, shaking with rage. Definitely not a dream. The girl was breathing hard, with each breath her tits jumped and jiggled back and forth, side to side. But now was not the time. Her deep brown eyes were narrowed, and long ears pointed down in rage. There was nothing romantic about the straddle, she had pinned his arms. Everything was intentional. "Time to save my hide", he thought.
�How dare you?� came a stern but feminine voice
�Please, I can explain. I did not mean to� I couldn't help my��
�HOW DARE YOU?� a yell this time
�Just don't kill me! Please, I couldn't help myself, seeing tho��
�HOW DARE YOU KILL THAT TREE? That fight was MINE!
It took everything Zell had to convince himself that the girl was serious.
�That monster had you out cold and was gonna use you for a flower pot!�
�I don't believe you. I wouldn't lose that easily.�
Sigh
�Your sword is in pieces and your clothes are in tatters. Explain THAT.�
�You did that. Srams do that.�
�After what? Knocking you out? I assure you I don't have the strength. Nor can I cloud a mind that is empty.�
�Well somehow, you did, that's the only explanation.�
�Only? �Yelled the infuriated Sram �If my whole race are such bastards, then explain why did I give you first aid�� he tapped her bandaged thigh ��instead of tying you up like a Cra! Explain yogurt-brain!�
Silence.
�Explain, why would I carry you unconscious from battle and to a hiding place amidst the woods?�
�That's a good question.�
More silence. Colour filled Zell's cheeks. Their breathing slowed.
�I'm not a bad guy. Let me go. Get off, it's hard to breathe.�
�Can't handle a girl on top, huh? �
�I said GET OFF!� he yelled. By the force of his fingers his whole body slid under her. No time to admire the view. A dull thump of the dagger meeting wood told him all he needed to know. Sram kicked his torso up and locked legs around her head. A quick tumble and roll ended with her face-down one arm at an uncomfortable angle. Strength was meaningless, she was overwhelmed. He spoke sternly, but his voice shook. Rage dissolved into embarrassment, as his words felt like a confession.
�Stop mocking me! I saved you, because I did not want you to die. No pride or condescending involved. I don�t like to see girls get hurt. Ok, maybe a little lust was there, I could not help myself. I'm sorry� It's just I have never seen a girl, with a body like yours. Or your skill in battle. You're incredible.� Zell let her arm go, and gently ran his fingers down her ribcage, along the edge of a soft, exposed breast. Then got up, retrieved the dagger. Turning, he met her gaze, as she was slowly sitting up, one arm in a futile attempt to hide her breasts, the other for support.
�I'm sorry for groping you. I'll leave if you��
�Did you mean that? You really think I look good and� and am incredible in battle?� She was blushing, and the dark brown eyes opened wide for the first time. Enough to get lost in. Zell took a few steps to the side, picked up his camo cloak and lowered it on her shoulders. Then he came around and knelt and unhooked the mask again. Apart from the purple bruise on the forehead where the punch hit, his pale face was aglow.
�Absolutely.� He smiled. He went looking for the backpack, to get a flint and some food� for two.
I hate you so much Goultard. Stop being right all the time!
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The Path to Heroism