Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 25: Polishing the Python

Ren woke up because her teeth were chattering so hard they sounded like a maraca solo.

The Onyx Palace wasn’t just cold; it was aggressively, soul-sucking frigid. The black stone walls radiated a chill that seemed to bypass skin and freeze the marrow.

"System," Ren whispered, her breath misting in the air. "Current temperature?"

[System Notification: Ambient Temperature: 45°F (7°C). Warning: Host is at risk of hypothermia. Recommended Action: Cuddle harder.]

"I hate you," Ren mumbled.

She tried to pull the fur blanket up to her chin, but it was pinned down.

Syris was currently wrapped around her like a boa constrictor—which, to be fair, he was. His long, pale limbs were tangled with hers in a knot that defied geometry. His head was resting heavily on her chest, his black hair fanned out like silk sheets.

And he was freezing.

"Syris," Ren chattered, poking his marble-cold shoulder. "Wake up. You’re sucking the life out of me. I feel like a dementor’s snack."

Syris stirred. A low, hissing groan escaped his lips.

"No," he mumbled, tightening his grip. His skin felt dry, almost papery against hers. "Too cold... stay."

He nuzzled deeper into her cleavage, seeking the heat of her core.

"I can’t stay," Ren argued, trying to pry his arm off her waist. "I have biological needs. I need a bathroom. I need coffee. And I need you to not crush my spleen."

Syris opened one eye. The amethyst iris was cloudy, dull.

"Bathroom?" Syris slurred. "Use the corner."

"I am not using the corner! I am a civilized human being!" Ren shoved his face away. "And why are you so scratchy? Yesterday you were smooth. Today you feel like sandpaper."

Syris winced, shifting his legs. The sound of dry skin rubbing against dry skin was audible. Rasp.

"The Molt," Syris whispered, looking miserable. "It begins. The damp air... it makes the old skin tight. It itches."

He looked at Ren with pathetic, puppy-dog eyes (if puppies were 7-foot venomous reptiles).

"It burns, Little Chef. My scales are locked. I cannot move well."

[System Notification: New Quest – ’Polishing the Python’.] [Context: The Snake King is entering Molting Season. He is dry, itchy, and irritable. If he doesn’t shed properly, he gets cranky and might eat you.] [Objective: Apply oil to the King’s body to ease the shedding process.] [Reward: 1x Heavy Down Winter Coat (Red).]

Ren stared at the reward. A down coat. A puffy, insulated, glorious winter coat.

She looked at the miserable, itchy snake man.

"Fine," Ren sighed. "But I’m doing this for the coat, not for you. Do you have oil?"

Syris blinked, perking up slightly. "Oil? Yes. In the jar. Scented with jasmine."

He pointed a shaky hand to a shelf.

Ren freed herself from his grip—he let her go reluctantly—and ran across the freezing stone floor to grab the jar. She hurried back and jumped onto the furs, tucking her legs under her for warmth.

"Okay, roll over," Ren commanded, popping the cork. The smell of jasmine filled the room.

Syris looked at her. "You will... lubricate me?"

"Don’t make it sound weird, Syris. Just turn around."

Syris obliged, rolling onto his stomach. His back was a landscape of pale muscle and spine, but the skin looked dull and flaky.

Ren poured a generous amount of oil into her hands, rubbing them together to warm it up.

"This is going to be cold for a second," Ren warned.

She slapped her oily hands onto his shoulder blades.

"Hiss!" Syris arched his back, his forked tongue darting out. "Cold!"

"Relax. I’m a professional." (She really wasn’t).

Ren began to massage the oil into his skin. She used deep, kneading strokes, working the jasmine oil into the dry patches. She was treating him like a piece of high-grade Wagyu beef that needed marinating.

"Oh..." Syris let out a long, shuddering breath. "That... yes. Harder."

"I am not a masseuse," Ren grumbled, digging her thumbs into his tense muscles. "I usually massage kale, not kings."

"Lower," Syris commanded, his voice dropping an octave. "The lower spine is... tight."

Ren moved her hands down. The oil made his skin slick and shiny. As she worked, Syris began to melt into the furs. The tension left his body.

"Mmm..." Syris moaned. It was a loud, uninhibited sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Yes... right there... friction... so good..."

Ren paused. "Syris, you need to quiet down. You sound like you’re filming a nature documentary gone wrong."

"Do not stop," Syris gasped, reaching back to grab her thigh. "The heat... the oil... I feel the old skin loosening. Go lower. The tail base."

Ren looked at the "tail base." It was essentially his lower back, right where the human glutes would be if he didn’t have a massive snake tail hidden somewhere under the magic shifting. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"I’m charging extra for this," Ren muttered.

She poured more oil and went to town on his lower back.

"OH!" Syris cried out, burying his face in the pillow. "YES! LITTLE CHEF! YES!"

BAM.

The heavy stone doors of the bedroom flew open.

"MY KING! WE HEARD SCREAMS! ARE YOU—"

Viper, the guard, burst in, spear raised. Behind him was Lyssa, the green snake woman, looking panicked.

They froze.

The scene before them was...suggestive.

Syris was face-down in the furs, naked, glistening with oil, panting heavily, and clutching the sheets. Ren was straddling his back, hands deep in his oil-slicked skin, looking sweaty and disheveled.

Silence.

Viper lowered his spear slowly. "Apologies. I... did not realize the King was... mating."

"We aren’t mating!" Ren yelled, scrambling off Syris’s back. "I’m basting him! He’s dry!"

Lyssa’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. She looked at the oil. She looked at the scratches on Syris’s back caused by Ren’s nails. She looked at the flushed, ecstatic expression on Syris’ face as he turned his head.

"Basting?" Lyssa hissed. "Is that what mammals call it? Disgusting."

Syris lifted his head. He looked drunk. His eyes were glowing, his skin was shiny, and he looked more relaxed than anyone had ever seen him.

"Get out," Syris whispered, his voice dangerously calm. "Or I will have you skinned."

Viper grabbed Lyssa and dragged her out, slamming the doors shut.

Ren stood by the bed, wiping oil onto her pants. "Well. That’s going to be a rumor by lunchtime."

Syris rolled over. He sat up, the oil making his pale skin gleam in the dim light. He stretched, and for the first time, a piece of dead skin on his shoulder peeled away, revealing fresh, shimmering, iridescent scales underneath.

"The itch is gone," Syris marveled. He looked at Ren.

He didn’t look at her like a tool anymore. He looked at her like a deity.

"You have magic hands," Syris purred, slithering toward her. "The oil... the heat... I have never had a shed this easy."

He grabbed her waist, pulling her between his legs. The oil from his chest transferred to her clothes.

"Now," Syris whispered, leaning in until their noses touched. "I am hungry. And since you have oiled the pan..."

He licked his lips.

"...make me breakfast. Something hot. Something spicy. And then... you can do the front."

[System Notification: Quest Complete.] [Reward: Down Coat (Red) added to Inventory.] [New Quest: ’The Front’. Recommended Action: Run.]

Ren scrambled backward, clutching her invisible inventory coat.

"Breakfast! Yes! I’ll make congee! Right now! Don’t move!"

She grabbed her frying pan and bolted for the door, leaving the glistening, satisfied, and very naked King alone in his nest.

As she ran down the hallway, she heard Syris laughing—a warm, genuine sound that was far more terrifying than his coldness.

"She runs," Syris whispered to himself, examining his fresh, new skin. "But she cannot leave."