image [https://i.imgur.com/xcQhW8Y.jpg]
“Stop!”
“Don’t do this!”
“No. No. NO!”
“I WANT TO GO HOME!”
I reveled in the symphony of screams, my head swaying to their crescendo as I straddled the man beneath me. His head, cradled between my palms, thudded repeatedly against the cold embrace of the stone altar where he had foolishly awakened. Which man, you ask? The one with needle teeth, of course! Amidst the chorus, the screams of the blonde elf and her dark gray counterpart stood out—worthy of a horror classic. However, I couldn’t help but notice Sophia—was that her name?—grinning as widely as I, utterly captivated as Jason’s head began to ooze on the altar.
I think I like her—not enough to spare her, mind you, but enough to respect her twisted psyche.
Wasn’t she the first corpse I found after I devoured the succubus—the first time?
The one whose heart Jason had eaten?
Yep, that’s her.
As I activated the Corrosive in my palms, Jason’s pleas took on a high-pitched escalation into delicious cries—a serenade as sweet as any symphony, echoing while he teetered on the brink of oblivion. The death throes and frantic kicking only added to the spectacle, his futile struggles providing a macabre dance beneath my cruel, watchful gaze. Of course, his demise wouldn’t be permanent. I knew all too well he’d simply respawn in a few minutes. But hey, that’s just free meat and skills ripe for the taking.
Now, you might wonder, how did it come to this? My response is simple: why wouldn’t it? This is the perfect skill and level farm if I’ve ever seen one. Sure, it was a bit of a dick move to farm camp these six others from Earth, but let’s be honest—I don’t really care what you think of me. However, the system notification that flashed did matter, and it put a dampener on my mood.
V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE
BattleResult
Enemy Defeated: [The Crone’s Champion]
Level: 14
Level Discrepancy Too Great.
No rewards or experience awarded.
Current Level: 25
V:\>
“What’s this shit?” I blinked a few times, rereading the notification, miffed that I didn’t even get an option to use Absorb on his corpse.
I really wanted that Shadow Step skill he had too.
Still upon the altar, I rose and stood over his remains, allowing my dress to fan out as the Corrosive finished off my meal. Glancing down, I met the gazes of five pairs of eyes—four filled with horror, while Sophia seemed almost pleased with the turn of events.
I pointed at the one with a face like a dog’s. “What level are you?” I demanded.
“W-What?” Jeremy took a few steps back, his voice squeaking. “L-Level thirteen,” he managed, eyes wide as I looked poised to pounce if he didn’t answer promptly.
My shoulders slumped in disappointment as I turned to the blonde elf. “Thirteen,” Yua declared defiantly, trying to shield the dark elf behind her.
“Eleven,” Heather squeaked out from behind Yua, her eyes shifting in every direction but mine.
Didn’t she mention her level was fifteen or something when I first found them in the dungeon?
“S-Same,” the orc gasped, a wave of relief washing over Rob’s face as he realized I wasn’t attacking.
I glanced at Sophia, who beamed up at me. “Still level one, no thanks to that asshole,” she said, nodding toward the dissolving hand protruding from beneath my dress.
Grumbling to myself, I plucked up the hand—the only remnant of Jason—and plopped down on the edge of the altar. Devouring him had added some mass, which was somewhat satisfying, but the absence of skill or level gains left me underwhelmed. Levels seemed rather pointless, merely unlocking skill points and the occasional racial skill. Maybe if they came with stat increases... But no, I’m still convinced that this whole leveling system is akin to those rip-off season passes that game companies love dishing out for goodies rather than truly enhancing one’s power. Not that new skills didn’t increase my power, but the whole leveling process felt lackluster. I might be wrong, but that’s the impression I’ve gathered.
I contemplated this dilemma as I nibbled on a finger from the severed hand. Not that I could really chew with my fake silk teeth, but the motion was soothing while I was deep in thought.
“Um… Didn’t you say something about Aurelia wanting to see us?” Jeremy—the wolf boy—dared to utter.
“Hmm?” I glanced up, pulling the finger from my mouth as I pointed Jason’s hand at him. “Oh—right! I almost forgot,” I happily nodded. “We can make our way down there as soon—”
My words were cut off as another altar filled with pale light, and a body began to form upon it. Jason sat up, clutching his head, releasing a scream filled with terror before pausing to look around at all of us staring at him.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” I scoffed, tossing him his former severed hand. He caught it, fumbled, and then dropped it.
“I’m the Champion! I won,” Jason cried. “I deserve to be treated with respect,” he continued, freezing to glare at me as I burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Respect? HAhaHAhAHAha! Oh, pLeAse, you’re kiLLing me! STOP!” I choked out, my laughter morphing into a bizarre mix of highs and lows as black tears streamed down my silk face.
Jason folded his arms, grunting and mumbling a string of insults under his breath, wise enough to keep them inaudible. I wiped away the black tears of my pudding that had leaked down my face, still fighting to suppress a few lingering snickers. As my gaze swept over the six of them, an important detail suddenly struck me.
“Um… Why are all of you naked?”
Rob glanced down and, in a sudden panic, cupped himself as if he, too, had forgotten his state amidst all the commotion. I had to admit, the orc was hung. Two of the girls were using one of the altars they had respawned behind as a shield—though it seemed more like Blondie was being overly protective of the dark elf, bordering on clingy. Jeremy, well, it was hard to tell much with all the fur covering him—was he really a he? Meanwhile, Jason sat cursing to himself on his altar, oblivious to everyone else. And then there was Sophia, standing boldly unashamed, her hands on her hips and her head held high.
“I don’t suppose you have something for us to wear?” Sophia asked, unafraid of speaking to me. “It’s rather cold in here,” she added.
It didn’t feel cold to me, but a quick glance at her, with two nubs that could cut glass, was enough to take her word for it. I sighed. Although I wasn’t feeling particularly generous or kind, I supposed I could help them out a little.
Mumbling to myself, I quickly wove some silk blankets intended to be worn like togas. Instead, they wrapped them around themselves like towels. Whatever. That said, weaving silk had been getting easier, and I probably could have made actual clothes by now—not that I did, but I’m pretty sure I could.
With that minor distraction handled, I stepped out of the respawn chamber with my little ducklings in tow. However, I soon faced a problem. “Um... Does anyone know the way back to the dungeon city below?” I asked, realizing I was a bit turned around.
That, and I’d prefer to avoid aimlessly wandering around an active dungeon teeming with mimics.
“Aw, there you are,” came a different voice. I turned to see a cat-eared vampire approaching. “Come this way; the shortcut to Ockpool’s denizens is just ahead,” Hikari cheerfully stated. “It’s straight down those stairs. I’ll stay up here reinforcing our defenses while Aurelia prepares the core to channel a gate out of here.”
“Shortcut?” I blinked, a sudden realization hitting me—I hadn’t needed to wander through the dungeon or be surprised by a mimic.
Everyone took a step back as I screamed in frustration.
Roaming down the long stairwell, we finally entered Ockpool’s little dungeon city, and to my amazement, it was halfway to being rebuilt. I scratched the back of my head in confusion; the only explanation that made any sense was the core’s influence. I shrugged it off and filed it under the I don’t give a shit category.
I glanced back and, to my surprise, found that Jason was gone.
~
Jason watched his prey from the shadows with a twisted grin, relishing the long-awaited moment. The unsuspecting fool wandered the halls alone, a perfect target. But Jason didn’t mind the wait—he savored every moment, planning to skin the frog who had summoned him into this twisted reality and feast on his heart.
As Jason crept through the darkness, Vorigan appeared almost stationary, lost in his own thoughts. Biding his time, Jason waited for the perfect moment to strike. Suddenly, he burst from the shadows, his sword—hastily picked up from the ground—poised for attack. The frog dodged just in time, narrowly escaping the blade by a hair’s breadth as he launched into a frantic dash.
The thrill of the chase fueled Jason’s bloodlust as he eagerly pursued his quarry, determined not to let him escape again.
Vorigan bolted through the ruins, his pulse racing not from fear but twisted glee. He avoided anyone who might offer aid, reveling in the thrill of being hunted. Gradually, he slowed, irresistibly drawn to the prospect of being caught. He imagined the exquisite pain and pleasure that awaited him at his pursuer’s hands.
Catching up, Jason was surprised by Vorigan’s speed but finally cornered him. Before Vorigan could flee, Jason lunged, his sword slicing through air and flesh. The crunch of bone shattered the corridor’s silence as Vorigan’s scream echoed, his leg severed below the knee. He collapsed, blood pooling around him.
Immense pleasure surged through Vorigan as Jason manhandled him, tossing him onto his stomach with untamed fury. Vorigan moaned in ecstasy, reveling in the relentless assault. He marveled at his fortune in being captured by the sadistic candidate he had handpicked from beyond the veil. Despite the harsh pleasures inflicted upon him, Vorigan felt a perverse sense of gratitude. He had gone to great lengths to secure a Dark Fae body, perfectly suiting Jason’s cruel and sadistic disposition.
Oh, how Vorigan loved the feeling of those razor-sharp teeth piercing him so deeply. Jason tore chunks of flesh free from Vorigan’s back with each bite, exposing his ribcage from behind. Vorigan screamed in delight as the one, which he had picked out for his cruel and sadistic soul, repeatedly bashed at his spine. The sound of bones cracking filled the hall as Jason yanked several ribs out and dug his fist deep in search of Vorigan’s heart.
Jason was quite literally and metaphorically stealing Vorigan’s heart, and Vorigan, amidst his twisted ecstasy, willingly let him.
With another tough jerk, Vorigan was flipped over. Like something out of a dark and twisted scene, the vampiric frog lay on his back, utterly entranced by the figure looming above him. It was as if Jason was a god of lust and pain, bringing pleasure and suffering to his helpless victim.
He held Vorigan’s still-beating heart in one hand, a sight that would have spelled instant death for any ordinary vampire. But Vorigan’s amphibian lineage meant he could survive for months without a heartbeat, a trait often used for hibernation. However, seeing Jason hold his heart only added to his twisted pleasure. He gleefully gazed as Jason sank his teeth into his heart with reckless abandon. The quivering in his groin only added to the moment’s ecstasy, a twisted dance of pain and pleasure that Vorigan knew he would never forget.
Jason’s transformation into a Champion had fundamentally changed him; he was no longer just a Dark Fae but had become a harbinger of death and nightmares. Beneath him lay the vile frog who had facilitated this dark ascension, his heart tasting like a perfect mango, its juices dripping from Jason’s chin. Jason’s only regret was that the frog’s suffering had ended too soon... As he glanced down, he noticed the mutilated frog reaching into his robes—and...
“WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you jerking yourself off?!” Jason yelled.
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“Oh gods, don’t stop! Keep going, Daddy.” Vorigan moaned as he continued to enjoy himself.
“You sick fuck!”
Jason kicked the frog’s hand aside, revealing more of the amphibian’s anatomy than he cared to see. He reached down and grasped the frog by his sensitive area, giving a sharp tug that separated the creature from what would have been any man’s prized procession. To Jason’s surprise, the frog’s screams hadn’t been of agony but rather pleasure.
It was then that Jason was hit in the face with a thick, creamy fluid, getting the worst of it in his eyes. The burning sensation in his eyes was unbearable. The salty taste that leaked into his mouth made him gag as he stumbled backward, blinded and disorientated.
“Oh, gods. Yes, Daddy! OH, GODS—YES!” Vorigan screamed, “That was amazing!”
As several footsteps echoed down the corridor, Vorigan couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. Apparently, his screams of delight had not gone unheard. With a deep sigh, Vorigan’s leg, heart, flesh, ribs, and cock began to regenerate, leaving no trace of the damage inflicted by Jason’s sadistic pleasures. As the crowd drew near, Vorigan got up, already feeling the sensation of euphoria fading. Glancing at the dark fae, he was disappointed to see his poor Jason stumbling about, trying to wipe the frog’s pleasure from his eyes.
“Let me help you with that,” Vorigan said with a blissful chuckle, leaning in to lick the viscous substance from Jason’s face and eyes with his still-stiff tongue.
~
I froze when I spotted an unusual man frantically roaming around.
“Lulu!” he cried out.
I completely ditched the other five followers as I approached the man. At first glance, he seemed ordinary, but as my orange eyes focused on him, the rabbit-like features distinguishing him became undeniable. Soft fur covered his body, and his farmer’s bibs lent an endearing quality. His appearance coaxed a soft laugh from me, but as he approached with a smile, a different kind of hunger surged within me, one that was impossible to ignore.
The notion of sinking into his flesh, tasting his blood, and experiencing his body dissolve around me consumed my thoughts. It was almost overwhelming. My acidic saliva pooled in my mouth as he drew closer, his rabbit-like attributes intensifying my desire. I yearned to feel his form entwined with mine, to devour him whole and relish the sensations that enveloped me.
As he stood before me, the primal urges raged within, threatening to consume me entirely. The rabbit-man’s smile only fueled my intrigue, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any inkling of the deep desires that stirred within my very soul.
“I beg your pardon,” he said with a concerned expression, his friendly smile never faltering. “I’m searching for my little Lulu.”
I wrestled with the insatiable hunger that surged within me, threatening to overwhelm my self-control, the temptation to consume him whole almost too much to bear. “I’m afraid I haven’t encountered anyone by that name,” I managed to respond, my voice quivering as I struggled to rein in my monstrous instincts. “But I’d be more than willing to assist you in your search,” I added, forcing a feeble smile, all the while devising a plan to entice him away from curious eyes and ears.
“Oh, how kind of you,” he replied with a beaming smile, oblivious to the cruel, lustful hunger that smoldered in my gaze. “I would forever be in your debt. I’m Elijah of the Willowy Vale, and it’s an honor to meet you.”
“Blake,” I replied, my eyes raking over his body with a perverse hunger. His scent filled my being, and my primal instincts urged me to feast upon his flesh, to taste the sweet nectar of his blood as I played in his innards.
Aurelia had mentioned something about not devouring the dead bodies scattered throughout the ruins, hadn’t she? Either way, I was aware they were reserved for her to reanimate to bolster the defenses. However, she hadn’t mentioned anything about the beastkin refugees—an oversight on her part. So, with my insatiable hunger growing by the moment and Jason having been little more than a stringy snack, I found myself looking for a more substantial meal. And it just so happened that rabbit was indeed on the menu.
At this moment, my hunger was all that mattered. The overwhelming urge to consume and devour until I was satiated—an impossible feat, as the hunger always lingered, especially after that fucking mimic had eaten me. Elijah was merely a brief reprieve, a fleeting moment of satisfaction in an endless cycle of craving and desire. I allowed myself to savor the thought of his flesh melting in my mouth, his bones dissolving against my skin, all the while knowing he would soon be just another casualty of my relentless hunger.
Am I evil?
Yes!
“Are you a fighter or mage of any kind?” I asked, my voice cold and calculating.
“Oh, gods no,” he replied, his voice laden with sadness. “I’m just a simple farmer trying to navigate this cruel realm. It’s been incredibly tough since I lost my love to the Slaethians and the Empire. Now, it’s just me and my little Lulu. Children are so rare here; she’s truly a gift—the only piece of my love I have left.”
He launched into a rambling tirade about his personal tragedies. His tale of the Kingdom of Slaethia seizing his lands and murdering his wife elicited a surge of perverse pleasure within me. His misfortune stirred a twisted delight in my heart, marking him as the perfect prey for my dark desires. His vulnerability, born from profound loss, made him all the more enticing to exploit.
“I see,” I replied, my voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “I’m truly sorry to hear about your loss.”
I should have been an actress in my last life.
In truth, I harbored no remorse for his suffering. My mind was consumed by dark fantasies of claiming him, savoring his flesh slowly. The prospect of his pain and terror only intensified my cravings, and I yearned to make him entirely mine, with every fiber of my being.
As we strolled down the corridor, Elijah prattled on about his Lulu, blissfully unaware of the dark and twisted hunger roiling within me like a hurricane in a teacup. I know I sound like a broken record, but that’s just how my thoughts echoed relentlessly in my head: eat him, eat him, eat him.
My eyes darted around, searching for the perfect alcove to indulge my darkest desires. Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence—harsh and grating like nails on a chalkboard. It sounded as though a woman was being torn apart, her flesh ripped and devoured by some unseen force. I could almost taste the metallic tang of blood in the air, like the scent of a rare delicacy, beckoning me.
Elijah quivered in fear, his scent wafting toward me like an irresistible fragrance—akin to freshly baked bread or a succulent roast, impossible to resist. My hunger surged with every passing moment, a blazing fire threatening to consume me entirely. Primitive instincts urged me to delve my Corrosive fingers deep into him, to taste his entrails as I slithered within his body until my cravings were sated. The darkness within me grew like an invasive weed, strangling all other emotions. In that instant, I was wholly consumed by my voracious yearning.
Yielding to a potent impulse, I forcefully propelled the rabbit into one of the chambers we traversed and slammed the door shut behind us, sealing us in seclusion. His fear was thick in the air, as he stammered out the question that hung on his lips. “W-What are you doing?”
A grin spread across my face, savoring the terror that radiated off him like heat from a flame. “What do you think I am, rabbit?” I taunted, fully aware that my true nature was far more monstrous than he could ever imagine.
“R-Rabbit?!” he exclaimed, his voice trembling with fear and indignation. “Now you insult me. I don’t know what you are, but you appear humyn, or even elf-like to me.”
I laughed cruelly at his ignorance, my amusement swelling as I revealed a glimpse of my true form. “No, no, you poor rabbit,” I sneered. “I’m a black pudding, or, hmm... call me Blake Pudding.”
Before he could finish his sentence, the embroidery on my dress sprang to life, its tendrils wriggling with eager anticipation. Poor Elijah’s voice was swallowed by a frightened yelp as my legs and the lower hem of my dress transformed into a myriad of tentacles. In a desperate bid to escape, he scrambled backward, but it was futile.
Swiftly, I closed in on him, driven by an overwhelming hunger that allowed no room for mercy, effectively trapping him with no possibility of escape. The fragrance of his fear hung heavy in the air, a seductive perfume that irresistibly drew me closer. I inhaled deeply, relishing the anticipation of his impending doom.
My tentacles coiled tightly around his limbs as he struggled against their unyielding grip. To my satisfaction, he was far weaker than I had anticipated. Drawing close to his face, I traced my black tongue down his forehead, leaving an acidic burn mark seared into his skin. His cries echoed within the chamber, the thick stone walls muffling the sound to the outside world.
This feast was mine alone to savor, a meal I intended to relish slowly.
I played with his lips, reveling in the sensation of their flesh dissolving beneath my Corrosive tongue. His agonized screams only fueled my insatiable hunger, driving me to the brink of devouring him completely. Yet, I resisted the urge, opting instead to prolong his suffering, toying with my prey as a predator delights in the struggle of its catch.
His futile efforts and desperate resistance were no match for the strength of my tentacles, which rendered him utterly helpless and completely at the mercy of my dark desires. Could I have paralyzed him? Yes! But why would I do that when the struggle was half the fun?
I absorbed his pain, terror, and agonizing screams, relishing every moment of his torment as I indulged in consuming his flesh. Amidst the twisted pleasure, a sinister sadness flickered within me, an unsettling awareness of the cruelty of my actions, as his eyes clenched shut in terror.
Why would he avert his gaze from something so exquisite?
I was reveling in absolute delight, while another fragment of myself attempted to avert my gaze—though still peeking with morbid curiosity. I was determined not to let him look away. I was not someone to be denied pleasure, so I dissolved his eyelids with a sickening sizzle, forcing him to witness every horrific, yet oddly captivating, detail of my consumption.
As I indulged in my darkest and most sadistic desires, my hunger only intensified, compelling me to embrace the twisted path I had chosen—a realization I strangely felt no guilt savoring.
Regrettably, the rabbit man expired while I was still consuming him. It happened just as I had finished devouring his genitals—my appetite had led me from his limbs to that particular region. And still, my hunger remained unsated.
After my grisly meal, I headed back towards the dungeon core, a heavy sigh escaping me. Along the way, my attention was captured by the sight of Vorigan leading Jason by the hand, both moving in the same direction. The self-proclaimed champion was rubbing his reddened eyes, his expression one of distress—or perhaps... No, it was a look I recognized all too well from my college days. Nothing like driving to a gas station half-blind for eyedrops after a gangbang. Those had indeed been some wild times.
As I continued, my heightened senses picked up an unmistakable scent of sex and blood in the air.
“Oh, my gods!” I gasped.
“Are they a couple?” I pondered aloud.
“I don’t know,” I whispered to myself. “Jason doesn’t seem the type.”
“I can’t wait to tell the others,” I said, waving my hands excitedly, trying my best not to shout.
“Since when was I the gossip type?” I tried to hush myself.
“Since always,” I blurted out.
“No, I’m not,” I replied in horror. “I’m the antisocial type!” I continued, still talking to myself like a madwoman.
~
A little girl’s voice quivered with fear as she approached Heather, her bunny ears twitching anxiously. “Have you seen my papa?” she asked, her eyes brimming with worry.
Heather responded with a soothing melody, her gentle smile serving as a beacon of hope. “I’m afraid not,” she said softly, “but we can certainly look for him.” Taking the child’s hand, she guided her through the streets of the dungeon city.
The alleys were congested with clusters of refugees, mingling with dungeon dwellers who had recently respawned after being dead for some time, and a scattering of random vampires—an eclectic group brought together by circumstance. Haunted eyes and hollow cheeks bore witness to unspeakable horrors; torn clothing hung on frail frames, signs of better days long gone.
As she glanced down at the little girl’s hand clutching hers—pale skin standing out against her own grayish purple—Heather felt a surge of determination. She had once led a quiet life, resigned to solitude and feline companionship. But destiny had other plans, thrusting her into a brutal competition for a title she never sought. Beneath her gentle exterior, Heather harbored a quiet yearning for retribution against the detestable Jason. It was Blake, however, who ultimately sealed their fates with a single, fateful blow. Amid the grimness, Heather couldn’t help but admire the woman who had taken her life—not that she could ever admit it, especially when she trembled before those glowing orange eyes.
The little bunny girl’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Do you think my papa is okay?”
Heather met the girl’s gaze, seeing her own reflection in those tear-filled eyes. “Don’t worry,” she reassured her gently, “we’ll find out. What’s your name?”
The girl sniffed softly before responding, “Lulu of the Willowy Vale.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lulu. I’m—”
But Lulu interrupted with an exclamation of awe. “Are you an angel?”
A gentle smile touched Heather’s lips as she saw relief wash over Lulu’s face. “No, I just help where I can,” she replied warmly.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the air, the sound of a woman being violently torn apart echoing through the corridors. It was enough to instill terror, filling the chambers with a palpable sense of dread.
~
Five minutes later, I found myself entering the chamber containing the dungeon core, with Aurelia standing before it. It didn’t look like she had started working on the gate or teleport wormhole thingy. Yeah, you can tell I don’t really know much about magic, but hey, I’m learning. She hadn’t noticed me yet, so instead of interrupting, I hung back, blissfully watching her.
I spotted those I had ditched—minus Jason—earlier, each now standing beside the old warg, equipped with new gear and clothes.
Aurelia lifted her hand to the cock ring around her wrist—and yes, I’ll keep calling that dimensional storage a cock ring because I’ll never forget where she yanked it off while wearing my flesh as a glove. In any case, a black orb manifested out of the storage, and I could tell she was contemplating something as she glanced over at a nearby zombie she had reanimated.
Necromancers are just the coolest.
~
Olin’s consciousness slowly reconnected to General Ezad’s body, a link that had been severed when his mistress stashed his phylactery in the dimensional storage she had found upon... well, he tried not to remember exactly where. Remaining motionless, Olin silently listened to a conversation unfolding nearby.
“Paladin Anlyth, me condolences on yer mate,” a sturdy dwarven male voice offered. “How long had ye and the general been together?”
“Thank you, Champion Einarr,” Anlyth replied. “About five hundred years, off and on, but we had taken things more seriously these last two,” she added, her voice tight more with anger than grief. “I hadn’t expected yours and Champion Orlaith’s arrival for a few more hours.”
“The winds were in our favor,” Orlaith interjected sharply. “That all said, Einarr and I will be taking over. You and your two comrades will return to your kingdom to answer for this disaster.”
“Speaking o’ which,” Einarr interjected, “where’s the wizard?”
“Ah, Craycroft’s more fond o’ teleportin’ back to his tower than bunkin’ down in camp overnight,” Gimona responded.
“Ah, well, then, I’m sure his punishment will be more severe than either of yours,” Orlaith quipped. “In any case, we’ll be taking the armada we brought to this dungeon your kingdom discovered.”
“Aye, speaking o’ that, what’s this talk about a dungeon core? Yer kingdom wasn’t planning on holdin’ out on the empire, were ye?” Einarr questioned.
“Of course not,” Anlyth answered, her voice edged with irritation.
“Hmm… we’ll see about that,” Orlaith responded skeptically. “Nevertheless, we have an airship ready to send you and your dwarf companion back while Einarr and I clean up this mess you’ve made.”
Olin decided to risk it and cracked an eye open for a better look at the two champions. He found himself in a tent among the wounded, and it was clear they all believed him dead—though, to be fair, he was currently inhabiting the body of their dead general. The irony of what that monster his mistress adored had done almost made him laugh, but now wasn’t the time. No, he needed a clear view of the champions.
One was a humyn, Orlaith, the dragon essence of her god unmistakable, as if fire itself danced upon her skin. She boasted dark, flawless skin, and her eyes pulsed with the fierce essence of her fire magic, illuminating the area with a subtle glow. Her attire consisted of a dress made from shiny red scales that glimmered with each subtle movement. The other, a dwarf named Einarr, wore a helmet that showcased his full, fiery red beard, complemented by grand wings jutting from the crown. Slung on his back was a war hammer, larger than he was, with its handle towering over his head.
Orlaith tsked, catching Olin’s attention, and seemingly, she noticed him too. “A lich,” she spat, and before Olin could react, an inferno erupted before his eyes, plunging everything into darkness.
~
I watched as Aurelia reconsidered her plan and returned the phylactery to her dimensional cock ring.
“What’cha doing?” I asked, startling the gorgeous vampire as she turned to see me watching her.
A kind smile, revealing her fangs, brightened her face. “I’m just waiting for the core to fully power up before I start weaving the spell to open a gate out of here.”
“How long will that take?” I asked, creeping up to her and wrapping my arms around her waist.
For a moment, it was just me and Aislinn. She stroked my cheek with her hand, her gaze locking with my orange eyes. “It should be safe enough to start now,” she murmured.
I nodded happily, but my smile quickly turned into a deep frown as the ground shook violently, as if a bomb had detonated above us.
“It seems we’re out of time,” Aurelia sighed, pulling away from me to approach the core.