CHAPTER 19

DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Mark galloped along the dirt road, woods on his right with towering trees and open grasslands stretching endlessly to his left. Suddenly, he heard a woman’s scream up ahead. Without hesitation, he urged his horse faster and soon spotted the source of the cries.

A group of rough-looking men stood on the grasslands, all in mismatched clothes, armed with swords and axes but wearing no armor. A young woman lay pinned to the ground, her white dress half-torn, her face bruised from the punch of the man holding her down. “Shut up, you bitch!” he yelled, hitting her again as she cried and struggled.

Mark jumped off his horse, drawing his regular sword. Normally, he didn’t play the hero unless there was a coin in it, but there was no way he’d leave this woman at the mercy of these thugs. “Hey!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the scene. “Let her go.”

The bandits turned, startled. One of them, a brute with a double-edged axe, smirked. “And what if we don’t, tough guy?”

Mark’s face hardened. “Then I’ll kill every last one of you.”

The man snorted, laughing. “Yeah? You’re funny, asshole. Now get lost before we decide to rape you too.”

Mark stood his ground as the first thug charged, swinging his axe. Mark sidestepped, avoiding the blow, then countered with a single, clean slash. The thug’s head flew through the air before landing with a thud in the grass, eyes wide in shock, as his headless body collapsed in a growing pool of blood.

Two more bandits came at him with swords. Mark moved gracefully, ducking and weaving around their strikes. He thrust his sword straight into one of their chests. As that man crumpled, Mark quickly spun to block a swing from the second bandit. Their blades clanged twice, ringing out. Mark took advantage of an opening, kicking the man squarely in the groin. As the bandit doubled over, Mark seized the moment to slice him across the torso, cutting him cleanly in two. His remains dropped to the ground in a bloody heap.

The last two bandits, watching in horror, let the young woman go. One shouted, “Charge!” and they ran at Mark, one with a dagger and the other with a sword. Mark disarmed the first thug with a quick swing that took both his hands, then kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling.

The final bandit lunged, but Mark deflected his attack, then slashed his cheek, drawing blood. Before the thug could react, Mark drove his sword straight into his throat. The blade’s tip emerged from the back of his neck, and with a wet choke, the bandit dropped to the grass, dead.

"Are you alright?" Mark asked, glancing over at the young woman. Her white dress was torn and stained with grass, yet it still looked delicate. Her face, though bruised, was strikingly beautiful, with green eyes and dark brown hair.

“Thank you,” she murmured, still shaken. “I… I’m alright now. Thanks for getting rid of those bandits.”

“What were you doing out here, anyway? It’s hours from the nearest village.”

She hesitated, and Mark was about to drop the question, not wanting to press her after what she’d been through. But she finally spoke. “I… I was running away from home, actually.”

“Family troubles?” Mark asked gently. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “Yes. Family issues.”

Mark nodded. “Want me to take you to the nearest village? I can cover a night or two at an inn, at least. I’d stay longer, but… well, I have to keep moving.”

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“That would be wonderful,” she said, her voice full of gratitude. “Even a bit of help means a lot right now.”

“Alright then. Climb up,” Mark said.

He mounted his horse, and she hopped up behind him, holding on as they rode off. “What’s your name? I’m Mark.”

“Emmy,” she replied softly. Mark could sense her blush, but he let it pass without comment.

A few hours later, as night settled in, they reached a small village –a simple place with a handful of wooden houses topped with thatched roofs. Mark guided his horse toward the only inn in sight, helped Emmy down, and they both stepped inside. The warm glow of lanterns lit up a room filled with half a dozen locals eating and drinking. Mark walked up to the counter.

“Two rooms, please,” he said, “one for me and one for the lady.”

The innkeeper, a plump, grizzled old man, looked them over. “Normally that wouldn’t be a problem – hardly anyone comes through here. But today, a couple of merchants snagged three rooms. So, only got one left.”

Mark glanced at Emmy. “You stay here. I can keep going and find another inn a few hours down the road. Traveling at night’s no problem for me.”

“No, please stay!” Emmy said quickly. “We can share the room. It’s the least I can do after you saved me.”

“If you insist… but I’ll be sleeping on the floor,” Mark replied with a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah, real gentleman,” the innkeeper muttered, tapping the counter impatiently. “So, are you taking the room or not?”

Mark nodded and tossed a few coins on the counter. He also slipped the innkeeper a bit more to bring some fresh clothes for Emmy. The innkeeper led them to a small, cozy room, and a few moments later, returned with a bundle of clothes.

Mark handed them to Emmy. “I’ll step outside to give you a chance to change.”

Emmy’s cheeks flushed bright red as she looked up at him, seeming shy at first. But then, to his surprise, she whispered, “No… don’t leave.” Her tone was softer, more inviting. Her face was also bright red, far redder than the average blushing person.

Mark was taken aback, watching as her shyness gave way to an unexpected confidence. She let her torn dress slip to the floor, standing boldly naked before him. For a moment, Mark could only stare, finally managing a surprised, “Wow.”

Emmy stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him, and they kissed deeply, his hands running over her in all the right places. Mark, feeling the heat rise between them, took off his armor and shirt, leaving only his pants. Emmy kissed his muscled chest, sending a thrill through him as he kissed her neck, slowly moving downward to her breasts.

But something felt off. Mark had more self-control than most and he noticed Emmy’s skin turning ever redder, almost glowing. Something was wrong! He pushed her to the bed and took a few steps back. It was then that he noticed that her eyes were blazing with an eerie crimson light. She whispered, “You want me,” and he realized with a jolt – she was a succubus!

Mark lunged for his sword, but Emmy sprang at him with unnatural speed. Her fingers transformed into razor-sharp claws like a tiger’s, slashing as she closed in. He dodged left, barely escaping her swipe, but she tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Her left hand’s claws tore into his shoulder while her right came close to his face. Desperate, he kneed her in the stomach, pushing her off just in time.

Scrambling to his feet, Mark snatched up his sword and struck her hard with its pommel, knocking her out. “Phew!” he breathed, quickly grabbing his bag and fishing out the spellbook that witch Vivian had given him. He remembered reading about succubi during his travels. With urgency, he recited a passage from the book, finishing with, “Begone, vile spirit, from this woman’s body!”

A reddish, ghostly figure – the true succubus – rose from Emmy’s mouth, fully formed with horns, her beautiful face twisted in rage. “You think you can banish me, mortal?!”

“Yes, I do,” Mark replied, dropping his regular sword and quickly grabbing his spirit sword, its blade glowing a vibrant green. Just as the succubus lunged toward him, he plunged the spirit sword into her apparition, and she let out an unearthly shriek before vanishing into thin air.

A few hours later, Emmy stirred awake, blinking in confusion. “What… what happened? I don’t remember anything.”

“A succubus had taken control of your body,” Mark replied gently.

Emmy’s eyes went wide. “A succubus? So that’s what was happening during my blackouts? The people in my village thought I was possessed and almost killed me – I barely escaped. I ended up on that road you found me, a plaything to those bandits… but I thought it was all just superstitious nonsense because I never remembered any of it.”

“It’s over now,” Mark assured her. “You’re safe, and the foul spirit is gone.”

Emmy hesitated, looking at him with gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you. I could… offer my body…”

Mark shook his head with a gentle smile. “You don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t feel right if you slept with me out of obligation.”

She looked into his eyes, a playful smile lighting her face. “But what if I wanted to, because I truly find you to be a heroic, dashing savior?”

Mark laughed softly. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t say no.”

They shared a passionate night together, filling the room with moans of pleasure. By morning, Mark left her a pouch of coins to help her get back on her feet. Then he left the inn, mounted his horse, and rode off into the distance.

For such is the life of a wanderer – to always keep traveling.