The next day, the group gathered in the clearing. Ebonheim had already conjured a dozen large holes, each one deep and wide enough for a body. The fallen harpies had been gathered and laid out in a neat row, their limbs arranged respectfully with their wings folded across their chests.

Their burial was a solemn affair, each hole filled with reverence and care, the soil packed and smoothed, and small stones placed as markers. Throughout, the surviving harpies remained silent, watching from a distance. No words were spoken, none were needed.

As the last grave marker was placed, Ebonheim bowed her head. "Rest in peace." She whispered the words softly, as if afraid to break the silence. "May the afterlife welcome you, and the world bless you with rebirth."

After a moment of reflection, Ebonheim led the group back to camp. As they walked, the harpies rose into the air and circle overhead. Liselotte and Mesyori swooped down from the skies, landing in front of Ebonheim.

Liselotte's wounds had already healed overnight, with her wing regrown and her feathers restored to their former lustrous glory. Her demeanor had returned to her usual regal and fierce countenance. She stood tall and proud, her wings spread wide, while Mesyori lingered a step behind, her head bowed in deference.

"Only the strong are welcome in my territory. The weak become prey. That is our way." Liselotte proclaimed, her voice carrying across the forest. "You are strong. We won't forget. Strong can stay. Be guest. Guest of Skytalon." She reached out, extending a wing-arm. "Let's be friends."

Ebonheim received the greeting, clasping Liselotte's wing in her hand. "We'd love to. Friends of Ebonheim."

Liselotte grinned, the sharp tips of her teeth showing. "Friends!"

The assembled harpies cheered, their wings fluttering as they chirped and squawked. A few even performed celebratory acrobatic flights, spiraling into the sky.

Thorsten leaned toward Ingrid, cocking an eyebrow. "Let's hope no other unexpected surprises come our way, lest our poor Ebonheim has to fight another epic battle before midday." He crossed his arms and sighed, "Besides, I've had enough excitement for one trip."

Ingrid chuckled softly, patting him on the back. "I think we can all agree to that." She stole a glance at Liselotte, who now conversed with Ebonheim. "I just hope nothing else goes awry during this excursion. This trip has been nothing short of eventful."

"I'd say. This valley has been anything but quiet," Urien said, the corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk. "I don't think I've had this many near-death experiences since joining the Silverguards."

"Now that's a lie," Lorne interjected, elbowing Urien in the ribs. "You've had at least one near-death experience every week, Urien. I should know—I've had to keep your reckless arse alive for the past couple of years. It's a full-time job in itself. Sometimes I wonder why I bother."

Urien shrugged, raising his palms in mock surrender. "Hey, it's not like I asked to get into that mess. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Although, I can't deny I seem to attract some pretty exciting opportunities when I do manage to get into a pinch. Maybe I should purposely seek out danger to improve my luck?"

Lorne snorted, rolling his eyes. "No, thank you. I'll pass on that opportunity. Besides, we're in the middle of nowhere, with no access to our regular amenities, and the locals are a bit feral. I'm quite happy staying in my tent and practicing my crafting. No offense, harpies."

Liselotte looked at him blankly. She cocked her head, her expression betraying no comprehension. "Eh?"

Viviane giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "He said he doesn't mind sticking around here as long as there aren't any more problems. Hopefully we can have a peaceful trip from here on out. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Ebonheim said, walking up to the group. "I think things will run much more smoothly from here on out. Lotte and I have an understanding, so we can continue building the road through her territory."

"Did she demand anything in return?" Serelle asked. "A favor? A payment? A tribute?"

"She didn't mention it. So far, no demands. No requests, either." Ebonheim looked back at Liselotte, who seemed distracted by her own minions' antics. "Lotte, did you want something in return for letting us build a road through your territory?"

Mesyori raised her wing to cover their faces as she whispered in Liselotte's ear.

"Hmmm...hmmmmm..." Liselotte nodded and whispered back, their exchange growing increasingly animated. Finally, Liselotte turned to Ebonheim, sporting a toothy grin. "Yes. Compensation."

"What kind of compensation?" Ebonheim asked, raising an eyebrow.

Liselotte's grin widened, her eyes narrowing as she shifted her gaze towards Lorne, Thorsten, and Urien. "Males."

The assembled harpies also focused their attention on the men, their unblinking stares unnerving to behold. Some licked their lips, while others leaned forward hungrily, their talons scraping against the ground.

"Huh?" Ebonheim blinked. "Males?" She looked at the trio, and then back to Liselotte. "Do you want them to build you something?"

"Not for that," Liselotte snapped. "Males to breed." She pointed to the three men. "You've slain ten of mine. Repay. Lend the males to us. To replenish the flock."

"Wait, what?" Lorne choked, his cheeks reddening. "Hold on, just wait a minute! We can't agree to this!"

Thorsten pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Serelle and Viviane snickered, the two women clearly enjoying the situation. Serelle even went so far as to nudge Ingrid in the side with her elbow, who in turn rolled her eyes.

"Is... is she suggesting what I think she's suggesting?" Ebonheim asked, her face flushing. Her eyes darted between Lorne, Thorsten, and Urien.

Viviane doubled over in laughter. "Oh, goddess. I can't breathe..." She gasped for air in between fits of giggles.

Serelle leaned over to whisper in Ebonheim's ear. "Sounds like a good deal. It's only fair, given the circumstances."

Ebonheim frowned, her ears turning a vibrant shade of crimson. "Um... but I—"

"Are you rejecting my terms?" Liselotte interjected, a faint growl escaping her throat. "Harpy blood spilled. This is compensation. Our law."

"G-guys...?" Ebonheim stammered, looking to the men for help.

"Look, as flattered as I am, I have to decline," Lorne stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm taken, and if she finds out that I've engaged in... relations... with anyone other than her, I'll have my hide tanned and my entrails fed to the pigs."

Thorsten grunted in agreement, crossing his arms. "I for one, am in no mood to sire children anytime soon, regardless of who might ask. If that changes, I have my own preference in women. Harpies are not among them."

Just when Ebonheim thought things couldn't get any more awkward, Urien stepped forward and dropped his warhammer on the ground.

As he approached the harpy queen, he unclasped his armor, stripping down to his undershirt, his burly physique on full display. He stretched his arms out wide and struck a pose.

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" He proclaimed, puffing out his chest.

The silence that followed lasted for only a few moments before Serelle and Viviane burst out laughing, barely able to contain themselves. Ingrid and Lorne shook their heads and sighed, and Ebonheim covered her face with her hands. Even Thorsten smirked and gave a snort.

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"Urien..." Lorne began, only to be interrupted by the latter.

"Don't worry, I've got this covered, Commander." Urien cracked his knuckles and gave Liselotte a broad grin. "Milady. Spare the others. Take only me instead. You can keep me prisoner, if you must. Let them go free."

He flexed his biceps, striking a heroic pose. "You know you want this. It might surprise you, but I'm a real beast in bed. I'll show you how true warriors rut. Your flock will flourish under my glorious virility."

Lorne slapped his palm to his forehead and groaned, "Please stop talking, Urien..."

Liselotte stared at Urien, tilting her head to the side. "You offer yourself? Take you instead?"

"Yes!" Urien replied enthusiastically. "I accept your bargain, on behalf of the others. Spare them, and you can use me for your pleasure. My body and spirit, for theirs." He lifted his chin in defiance. "Be warned, however. I may fall, but my seed shall endure."

Serelle wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Oh, goddess. This is hilarious."

"Is he serious?" Viviane asked, tilting her head.

"He's always been a bit of a fool," Lorne replied, his gaze fixed on Urien. "But he's loyal and trustworthy. He'll see this through to the end, or die trying. Pray, just pray, that he lives."

Liselotte flapped her wings, hopping to the ground in front of Urien. She circled him, examining him from every angle. After several laps, she stopped directly in front of him.

"Accept." She flicked a talon at his chest, cutting open his shirt. "Big. Strong. Male."

"See, she likes me," Urien boasted, striking another pose. "So, what will it be, my winged temptress? Are you going to take me captive and ravish me, or not?"

"Yes." Liselotte wrapped a wing-arm around Urien's shoulder, pulling him close. "You will breed with all of us."

"Oh..." Urien's bravado wavered momentarily, his smile faltering. "A-all of you?"

"Yes." Liselotte responded, her eyes boring into his. "All who wish. Harpies choose. Any who wants, breeds. We will use you until you have nothing left. Are you still willing?"

Urien cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "Just...just give me one moment, milady."

He turned and walked back towards Lorne and the others, the flustered man wringing his hands. "Commander, I... Well, I'll need to use the remaining health and vigor potions we have stocked, if you catch my drift. Could I please requisition them from the supplies? Otherwise, I might not make it through this ordeal alive, if you catch my meaning."

Lorne, along with everyone else, stared at Urien with varying degrees of amusement and shock.

Finally, Lorne sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Use what you need. I'll deduct the expenses from your pay. Consider it your penance for volunteering yourself without permission."

"You're the best, Commander," Urien said, saluting Lorne. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"You owe me at least five." Lorne replied, rolling his eyes. "Now go. Make sure you come back in one piece."

Urien nodded, grabbing the satchel of supplies from Lorne, and returned to Liselotte's side, his usual swagger and confidence now absent. "Very well. My Queen, I'll submit to your will."

Liselotte's face lit up, her sharp-toothed smile widening. "Good. Follow."

As Liselotte turned to lead him away, Urien turned his gaze back to Lorne and the others. "If I don't make it back, tell them...tell them I died a hero."

With that, he allowed himself to be led away by the eager flock of harpies.

"Lotte! Bring him back to my village alive and well, okay?!" Ebonheim watched them depart, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I hope he'll be alright." She turned to Lorne, tapping her fingers together nervously. "W-will he be alright?"

Lorne gave a helpless shrug, "Probably. He's a resilient man. Plus, if there's one thing Urien enjoys besides combat, it's the company of beautiful women. Though I dare say, I pity his future self for the undertaking that awaits him."

"I hope he survives the encounter, though he seems confident enough in his skills to win through," Thorsten added dryly. "And he'll probably enjoy the fruits of his labor. The silver lining to all this."

Viviane and Serelle broke into laughter once again, the two women unable to contain themselves. They clung to one another as they tried to regain their composure, gasping for air in between fits.

Ingrid smirked, "If he does, then we should send him a basket of fruit to congratulate him."

"Ingrid!" Ebonheim exclaimed, her ears bright red. "That's... that's... really inappropriate. And not what I meant."

"Pfft. He'll survive." Viviane managed to compose herself, wiping a tear from her eye. "Hopefully he won't mind getting scratched up a little by those talons."

"There will be more than scratching, I suspect. Those harpies are certainly enthusiastic and full of energy. He might not sit comfortably for a while." Serelle replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Viviane laughed again, her voice ringing out clear and sweet.

Ebonheim buried her face in her hands. "Please don't put images in my head. I'm begging you."

"I mean, if it comes with such benefits, who wouldn't volunteer?" Serelle observed. "To lay with the exotic beauty of a harpy... There are certain privileges that come with the tradeoff, would you not say?"

Viviane nodded, giggling. "True, but there's always the risk of death by exhaustion, or a slow demise due to loss of bodily fluids."

Ebonheim flushed a deep red, unable to hide the mortified expression on her face. "Stop! Please... Just stop... I can’t listen to it anymore..."

Lorne coughed, clearing his throat. "I believe Ebonheim has made it abundantly clear she wishes for this topic to end. I, for one, concur. That is an image that I care not to ponder on."

"As do I," Thorsten chimed in. "It would seem that Urien has his work cut out for him. Either way, he's earned an ale or two after this escapade."

"Or five," Lorne muttered, eliciting a chuckle from Thorsten.

Ebonheim's embarrassment gradually faded, her cheeks returning to normal as she regained her composure. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, centering herself. "W-well. At least the matter's resolved. Now, let's talk about something less embarrassing..."

Ingrid cleared her throat, trying her hardest to stifle a chuckle. "Goddess. Your, ah, new look suits you." She gestured at Ebonheim's new outfit and wings. "When did that happen?"

Viviane had already run forward and circled Ebonheim, ogling the new additions. The Artificer peered closely at the metal wings, tracing the seams and contours with her eyes. She even produced a measuring tape from her belt and started measuring various aspects of the wings. Ebonheim allowed herself to be inspected, her expression amused.

"During the fight with Liselotte," Ebonheim replied. "I got flung back to the ruins. Remember that ancient Aetherframe we saw? Well, I managed to activate it and fought Liselotte in it. But it still wasn't enough to beat her, so um...I stumbled upon a way to change the Aetherframe into this new form."

She flapped her wings, the propellers inside humming as they rotated. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Viviane practically drooled as she traced the lines of Ebonheim's suit with her finger. "Oh my, you can't imagine how hard I'm salivating right now. If I could only study the schematics of this, oh, I'd never sleep again!"

Serelle walked over to Ebonheim's side and pinched the edge of one of the wings. "Interesting. How exactly did you manage to convert the frame into this form?"

"Um...it's a goddess privilege thing?" Ebonheim answered hesitantly, scratching her cheek. "Oh, but I think I can change it back to its original form."

Ebonheim closed her eyes and concentrated.

As Ebonheim focused, her armor began to glow with an inner light. The individual pieces separated and floated off her body, drifting out and arranging themselves in mid-air. Each piece spun and twisted, expanding and elongating. The sound of grinding metal echoed through the clearing as the Aetherframe reassembled itself.

Viviane and Serelle backed away, awestruck as they watched the process.

As the Aetherframe reformed, its components glowed with a warm amber light. Its joints hissed with steam as it lowered to the ground, its legs folding out neatly beneath its frame. Its exterior plates melded seamlessly with its joints and its limbs articulated fluidly, as if they had always been part of a single whole.

A humming vibration filled the air as the Aetherframe finished its transformation, standing upright once again.

Ebonheim exhaled, her eyes still shut. She swayed slightly, her posture unsteady. Ingrid rushed forward to steady her, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her.

Viviane fainted after letting out a squeal of delight, falling to the ground. Serelle caught her before she hit the grass, the Arcanist chuckling as she supported the other woman's weight. "Oh dear. It seems our resident Artificer is rather...enthusiastic about the latest development. Perhaps a bit too much so."

"Are people from Les Artisanats d'Éclair prone to fainting spells like this," Ebonheim asked worriedly. "I've already seen Evelyne faint twice from shock. Now Viviane. Is there something wrong with them?"

"Only when they find something that fascinates them to the point of distraction or obsession," Serelle replied, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Like this Aetherframe, for example." She nudged Viviane gently. "Wake up, Viviane. Look. It's still here. Do try to control yourself. There will be time later to gawk, poke, and prod to your heart's content."

"Hmmm...?" Viviane slowly came to her senses, rubbing her eyes and blinking. She immediately stiffened in realization, bolting upright in Serelle's arms. "It's still here!" She scrambled to her feet, darting over to rub her face against the Aetherframe's leg. "It's still here... Oh, ma déesse, you have to let me examine it, please, please, please!"

Ebonheim smiled sheepishly. "Uh, sure. Later, okay?"

"Goddess," Ingrid whispered, clearing her throat.

"Huh?" Ebonheim glanced at the blonde-haired shieldmaiden. "Is something the matter, Ingrid?"

"You're...n-naked again." Ingrid stammered, her eyes wandering downwards before she could stop herself.

Ebonheim slowly turned her head downward, her eyes widening as she realized the state of her current attire—or lack thereof. "A—AAaaaaAAAaahhh!"