More magic
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 17
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Emberlynn woke with a stretch that made every newly sculpted muscle sing. The early morning light barely pierced her heavy black curtains, casting the room in a soft purple-pink glow. She sat up in the nest of obedient tentacles, feeling the power humming steadily in her veins like a second, darker heartbeat. Her body had continued refining itself overnight—abs even sharper, vascularity more pronounced, breasts sitting higher and fuller on her chest while her waist remained dramatically cinched. She looked like a fitness model who had been carved from moonlight and given the soul of a predator.
She flexed one arm experimentally in front of the mirror, admiring the clean peak of her bicep. “Mmm… Little Tiger is even stronger this morning~ Rawrr~”
Blitzo was still snoring in the armchair, slumped over with his messy purple hair falling into his face. The grimoire hovered silently nearby, its black leather cover gleaming faintly as if it had been waiting for her to wake.
Emberlynn’s purple eyes sparkled with ambition. Showing off her new body at a nightclub could wait. Right now, the hunger for more magic burned hotter than the desire for attention.
“Grimoire,” she called sweetly, snapping her fingers. “Come here, mon petit trésor. We’re studying today.”
The book floated eagerly into her lap, pages already riffling open with enthusiasm.
Good morning, ma reine, it whispered warmly in her mind, mixing smooth English with affectionate French. Ready to learn more? You’ve grown nicely overnight.
Emberlynn giggled and crossed her legs on the tentacle nest, still completely naked. “Yes! Show me everything you can. I want stronger spells. Bigger ones. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
The grimoire responded with genuine excitement, but it was honest about its limits. I will teach you what I can, chérie, but I am not yet powerful enough for the truly grand spells. You must keep growing. For now… let us master what we have.
For the next two hours, Emberlynn threw herself into study with childish, hyper-focused enthusiasm. She practiced every spell the book revealed, repeating them until they felt natural.
She levitated small objects around the room—books, her phone, even Blitzo’s discarded pizza box—making them spin in perfect circles. She made the shadows on the wall dance like living puppets, forming crude shapes of tentacles and tiny monsters. She practiced lightning again, sending violet arcs crackling between her fingertips until she could zap a fly out of the air with pinpoint accuracy. Fire came easier now; she could summon a small purple flame in her palm and shape it into little floating orbs that drifted harmlessly around her head like demonic fairy lights.
Every so often she would pause, raise her hands, and summon a weak eldritch creature—just a floating eyeball, a slime blob, or a whispering shadow—to absorb its dark energy. Each absorption sent a pleasant shiver through her body, tightening her muscles another fraction and making the veins on her arms and abs stand out a little more.
Blitzo eventually woke up, rubbing his eyes. He watched her from the armchair with open boredom, arms crossed.
“You’re still at it?” he grumbled. “I’m still hungry, by the way.”
Without even looking at him, Emberlynn lashed out with the back of her hand in a lightning-fast slap. The crack echoed through the room. Blitzo yelped and clutched his cheek.
“Ask. Nicely,” she said coolly, still focused on the grimoire.
Blitzo glared, rubbing the red mark. “Mistress… may I please have something to eat? I’m starving over here.”
She waved a hand without glancing up. “Kitchen. Eat whatever you want. Just don’t bother me while I’m studying.”
He muttered something rude under his breath but dragged himself downstairs.
Alone again, Emberlynn dove deeper. The grimoire showed her how to wither larger plants, how to sour an entire carton of milk from across the room, how to create small illusions of herself walking around the bedroom. She practiced until each spell felt like second nature.
Eventually she grew impatient again. “I want stronger ones! Real power! Show me something big!”
The grimoire hesitated, pages fluttering almost apologetically. You still need more fuel in your body, ma tigresse. These minor spells are useful, but the grand ones require much more dark energy than you currently possess. Keep absorbing. Keep growing.
Emberlynn pouted, then brightened. She raised her hands and summoned five more weak creatures in quick succession—slimy blobs and whispering shadows—drinking their essence one after another. Each absorption made her glow brighter, her muscles tightening, her skin taking on an even more flawless porcelain sheen.
Finally, after the last absorption, the grimoire’s pages flipped dramatically and stopped on a new, more complex spell. It shimmered with dark promise.
Emberlynn’s eyes lit up as she read it. “Yes… this one feels stronger already.”
She spent the rest of the morning practicing and absorbing, steadily feeding her power while the grimoire guided her with patient whispers.
Very good, chérie… you’re growing beautifully. Just a little more and we can unlock even greater things.
Downstairs, Blitzo raided the fridge and pantry, eating whatever he could find while muttering complaints about “crazy pastel goth eldritch bitches” under his breath.
Up in her room, Emberlynn continued her studies with relentless, childish enthusiasm, determined to push her magic further before she ever stepped foot outside the house again.
---
Two paths now beckon to Emberlynn:
Option 1: Blitzo has finally recovered enough energy. Emberlynn decides it’s time for another intense sex session with him to fuel a major new growth spurt, pushing her body even closer to true goddess proportions.
Option 2: Emberlynn feels she has enough power for now and decides it’s finally time to leave the house. She wants to test her new body and magic in the real world—perhaps by going to a crowded place like a mall, a gym, or a nightclub to show off and intimidate mortals.
Which path does she choose?
She flexed one arm experimentally in front of the mirror, admiring the clean peak of her bicep. “Mmm… Little Tiger is even stronger this morning~ Rawrr~”
Blitzo was still snoring in the armchair, slumped over with his messy purple hair falling into his face. The grimoire hovered silently nearby, its black leather cover gleaming faintly as if it had been waiting for her to wake.
Emberlynn’s purple eyes sparkled with ambition. Showing off her new body at a nightclub could wait. Right now, the hunger for more magic burned hotter than the desire for attention.
“Grimoire,” she called sweetly, snapping her fingers. “Come here, mon petit trésor. We’re studying today.”
The book floated eagerly into her lap, pages already riffling open with enthusiasm.
Good morning, ma reine, it whispered warmly in her mind, mixing smooth English with affectionate French. Ready to learn more? You’ve grown nicely overnight.
Emberlynn giggled and crossed her legs on the tentacle nest, still completely naked. “Yes! Show me everything you can. I want stronger spells. Bigger ones. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
The grimoire responded with genuine excitement, but it was honest about its limits. I will teach you what I can, chérie, but I am not yet powerful enough for the truly grand spells. You must keep growing. For now… let us master what we have.
For the next two hours, Emberlynn threw herself into study with childish, hyper-focused enthusiasm. She practiced every spell the book revealed, repeating them until they felt natural.
She levitated small objects around the room—books, her phone, even Blitzo’s discarded pizza box—making them spin in perfect circles. She made the shadows on the wall dance like living puppets, forming crude shapes of tentacles and tiny monsters. She practiced lightning again, sending violet arcs crackling between her fingertips until she could zap a fly out of the air with pinpoint accuracy. Fire came easier now; she could summon a small purple flame in her palm and shape it into little floating orbs that drifted harmlessly around her head like demonic fairy lights.
Every so often she would pause, raise her hands, and summon a weak eldritch creature—just a floating eyeball, a slime blob, or a whispering shadow—to absorb its dark energy. Each absorption sent a pleasant shiver through her body, tightening her muscles another fraction and making the veins on her arms and abs stand out a little more.
Blitzo eventually woke up, rubbing his eyes. He watched her from the armchair with open boredom, arms crossed.
“You’re still at it?” he grumbled. “I’m still hungry, by the way.”
Without even looking at him, Emberlynn lashed out with the back of her hand in a lightning-fast slap. The crack echoed through the room. Blitzo yelped and clutched his cheek.
“Ask. Nicely,” she said coolly, still focused on the grimoire.
Blitzo glared, rubbing the red mark. “Mistress… may I please have something to eat? I’m starving over here.”
She waved a hand without glancing up. “Kitchen. Eat whatever you want. Just don’t bother me while I’m studying.”
He muttered something rude under his breath but dragged himself downstairs.
Alone again, Emberlynn dove deeper. The grimoire showed her how to wither larger plants, how to sour an entire carton of milk from across the room, how to create small illusions of herself walking around the bedroom. She practiced until each spell felt like second nature.
Eventually she grew impatient again. “I want stronger ones! Real power! Show me something big!”
The grimoire hesitated, pages fluttering almost apologetically. You still need more fuel in your body, ma tigresse. These minor spells are useful, but the grand ones require much more dark energy than you currently possess. Keep absorbing. Keep growing.
Emberlynn pouted, then brightened. She raised her hands and summoned five more weak creatures in quick succession—slimy blobs and whispering shadows—drinking their essence one after another. Each absorption made her glow brighter, her muscles tightening, her skin taking on an even more flawless porcelain sheen.
Finally, after the last absorption, the grimoire’s pages flipped dramatically and stopped on a new, more complex spell. It shimmered with dark promise.
Emberlynn’s eyes lit up as she read it. “Yes… this one feels stronger already.”
She spent the rest of the morning practicing and absorbing, steadily feeding her power while the grimoire guided her with patient whispers.
Very good, chérie… you’re growing beautifully. Just a little more and we can unlock even greater things.
Downstairs, Blitzo raided the fridge and pantry, eating whatever he could find while muttering complaints about “crazy pastel goth eldritch bitches” under his breath.
Up in her room, Emberlynn continued her studies with relentless, childish enthusiasm, determined to push her magic further before she ever stepped foot outside the house again.
---
Two paths now beckon to Emberlynn:
Option 1: Blitzo has finally recovered enough energy. Emberlynn decides it’s time for another intense sex session with him to fuel a major new growth spurt, pushing her body even closer to true goddess proportions.
Option 2: Emberlynn feels she has enough power for now and decides it’s finally time to leave the house. She wants to test her new body and magic in the real world—perhaps by going to a crowded place like a mall, a gym, or a nightclub to show off and intimidate mortals.
Which path does she choose?
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June 13
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