The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes

So here's how the story goes:

A long time ago, in the early days of this world, something went boom—like, really boom!

Nobody knows what caused it, but it was the kind of explosion that made everything nearby go poof, leaving only a smoking crater and a whole lot of questions.

The unlucky ones closest to the blast were vaporized into oblivion, while the survivors were left to deal with the cosmic hangover.

Some animals and plants didn't get the memo about staying out of trouble and were evaporated on the spot. But the ones that stuck around? They had to get crafty.

Evolution decided to spice things up a bit, and bam—mutations started popping off like crazy.

Some animals got a brain boost and evolved into something resembling humans but with a little extra flair: tails, ears, and a whole lot of attitude.

These new and improved critters became known as the beastmen.

Meanwhile, humans and other bipedal beings were busy figuring out how to harness mana, the magical juice that seemed to be leaking all over the place.

But the beastmen? They took a different path. They mutated into beings that stood upright like humans but kept the strength, instincts, and killer moves of their animal ancestors.

Sure, they could use mana too, but not with the same finesse as the other folks.

And honestly? They didn't really care. It was a matter of pride—going full magic-mode without using their natural animal powers was considered a major disgrace to their furry, feathered, or scaled ancestors.

These beastkin preferred to hang out near forests, far away from any so-called "civilized" society. Why?

Because despite their dashing good looks and impressive strength, most civilizations were kind of freaked out by them.

Even the nicest, most open-minded folks couldn't shake the fear that a beastman might gnaw off their leg in the middle of the night or turn them into a fancy fur coat.

So, rather than dealing with awkward dinner parties and suspicious glances, the beastkin set up shop in the woods, where they could live by their own rules, free from the judgmental stares of mana-wielding humans who just didn't get it.

Up until the recent explosion of adventurers from every corner of the world, things were pretty chill between the beastkin and anyone who wandered into their territory.

If you stumbled upon one of the less cranky tribes, you'd be treated like royalty—fed, sheltered, and maybe even given a comfy seat by the fire.

Of course, not all beastkin were into the whole "peace, love, and hospitality" vibe.

Some tribes had a reputation for being as friendly as a bear with a sore tooth. Take the tiger tribe up in the mountains, for instance—those guys weren't exactly handing out welcome baskets.

The bear tribe deep in the forest? They had the charm of a grizzly with a hangover.

And don't even get started on the dog tribes—they had a bone to pick with the cat tribes and would happily chase them down for sport.

That's the lowdown on their origins. Customs varied wildly from one tribe to another, and even within sub-tribes.

Take Ronali's tribe, for example—they're Mountain Cats, but you've also got Snow Cats and Desert Cats, each with their own unique culture.

Sure, they're all cats at heart, but their traditions and rituals have their own little quirks.

"So that's the story, huh?"

Kaisen mused, stroking his chin like a wise old sage deep in thought. The rain kept pouring down, but Rony, having cried himself out, was now fast asleep. Kids, right? They can snooze through anything.

"But what about the tail?"

He asked, leaning in with a curious gleam in his eye. "What's the deal with that? It seems important."

Ronali blushed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, the tail... it's, uh, one of our... special organs. Not in a vulgar way!" she added quickly, her cheeks flushing brighter.

"It's something sacred. As you might've guessed, we can't, um, you know, use our tails for... self-pleasure. But our partners can, and it's said to be the best way to... uh, express love. It's considered a sacred gift, meant only for our future partner..."

Ronali blushed furiously, staring out the window, avoiding eye contact with the intruder as she spilled the beans on something that was meant to stay strictly within the circle of her peers.

This wasn't exactly dinner table conversation with the elders, and here she was, just blurting it out to a guy who had "pervert" practically tattooed on his forehead.

'He is an adult. A pervert one. But still an adult…'

Kaisen's face lit up with a mischievous grin as his imagination went into overdrive.

"So, if it's so sacred, why are you just waving it around like a flag? Shouldn't you be keeping that thing under wraps? I mean, anyone could just snatch it up if you're flaunting it like that, right?"

Ronali hesitated, the question catching her off guard. It wasn't just in the cat tribe; even the dog tribes, who loved to cause trouble, could easily grab a kitten by the tail. It did seem kind of risky.

"It's a pride thing. Our tails—not just in the cat tribe, but in every other beastmen tribe—are a symbol of maturity and confidence. It's... it's also a way to attract potential... ma…"

Her voice trailed off, her blush deepening as she stumbled over the words, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What was that?" Kaisen leaned in, his smirk widening. "I didn't quite catch that last part…"

Ronali mumbled, barely audible, "It's a way to attract mates," before burying her face in her hands, her cheeks now the same shade as a ripe tomato.

Kaisen chuckled, thoroughly amused.

"Interesting."

Indeed, it was a fascinating custom—like male peacocks fanning out their feathers or female swans flaunting their plumage.

It wasn't just about showing off; it was about owning it, about displaying confidence in themselves and their species.

"So, if someone grabs your tail, it's a sign they're interested in you, huh?"

Kaisen teased, his grin widening.

"...Yes..."

Ronali muttered, barely audible, her cheeks still flushed.

"So that means, when I grabbed your—"

"Shut up! Mom's here!"

Ronali hissed, cutting him off before he could finish. But just as she spoke, the straw door of the hut flew open, and in walked a man drenched from the rain.

He scanned the room, his eyes landing on his daughter and then on Kaisen, his expression turning from surprise to shock.

"Dad!"

Ronali shot up like a rocket, looking as if she'd seen a ghost. She greeted him with the enthusiasm of someone who just realized they'd left the stove on.

Before she could say anything more, Rodalina emerged from another room, concern etched on her face.

"Oh, sir, you're drenched—"

Slap!

The sound echoed through the small hut as Rodalina was sent sprawling to the ground, the intensity of the slap leaving everyone stunned.

The room went dead silent, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Is that a human in my home?" the man bellowed, his voice dripping with fury.