Cyprus followed Shanna and the guard, still not over how strange it was to walk with no legs. It was one thing to simply<em>be</em>places, or to cast out his consciousness and understand what he was doing. But actually having to choose to go from place to place, and only being able to do it at a walking pace despite not having any discernible legs, was absolutely surreal. And legs weren't the only part of him he was missing as he watched Shanna walk. She had legs that went on for days, and though they were mostly covered in her greaves and stockings, what lay just above was far more enticing. He still hadn't gotten a glimpse of her panties, and given how much of her ass was showing, he wasn't convinced she was wearing any. Maybe a few square inches of fabric to keep her from showing her cunt off to the world, but that had to be all there was.<br/><br/>From behind, he couldn't properly appreciate her chest, but he couldn't get ahead of her when he didn't know where they were going. He'd avoided the city and the Sorcerer King as much as possible for fear of, well, exactly what had happened: losing even more than he already had. But it was best not to think about that, so he let his mind wander to the thing that kept capturing his attention: the gorgeous rear view in front of him. Or at least what he could see when her steps kicked up her short cape enough for him to get a proper look. The only debate whether her best feature was her shapely ass or her wide birthing hips. Once upon a time, he'd had quite a collection of women like that. Not as slaves or concubines, more like nuns. On their 18th birthday, women whose bodies met a certain set of ratios could agree to join a convent for 7 years of dedicated service. Despite their selection process, they were typically devout places, focused on doing good works and spreading the faith, except around once a decade or so, when a woman caught his eye who had the allure (and the fortitude) to bear him a demigod child. Of course those convents were long gone, and his last child had been sired some 40 years ago, but if Shanna had been brought to one, he would have taken her in a heartbeat. Now, sadly, his incorporeal form just wasn't up for the challenge.<br/><br/>Maybe if Ca'al Na had spent more time focusing on the battle instead of fantasies of defeating and raping her in front of the crowd (fantasies he had, unfortunately, seen fit to share with Cyprus. Why confess his sinful thoughts to a priest when the god was right there?), he'd still be alive. Not that Cyprus blamed him for getting distracted, given how long he'd spent staring. They just didn't make women like that anymore. Powerful muscle lending shape to the soft flesh it was wrapped in. With food in short supply, almost no one but the nobility could afford to eat the way it took to build that kind of body, and none of them wanted to put in the effort it took to shape it.<br/><br/>And so, Cyprus decided to wait and enjoy the show. He had to see what lay beneath that skirt, and then he'd speak. Whether she went for her panties immediately after stripping off her breastplate, or waited until her greaves and gauntlets were off, that was her choice. He waited until he got his glimpse of heaven, mourning the loss of his body once again as he did. But then, before she got into the bath, he mustered up his strength and spoke.<br/><br/>"Shanna," he declared, channeling his voice directly into her mind. It didn't have a sound to it, exactly, but it was clearly different than her own thoughts. But no one could overhear. "I am Cyprus. I am the God of this land. And I have chosen you to serve as my Champion." His words came in deep and powerful, resonating with divine energy.<br/><br/>Now he just had to go through the trouble of convincing her why she should listen to the word of a god whose world had gone to shit, and who had faded into obscurity a decade before she was born. This was going to be an uphill battle.