Go kick their asses

The path that Cady mapped out is filled with lots of twists and turns, and the landmarks are easy to miss. You thank your lucky stars that Blythe, ever perceptive as she is, is with you, because you would have gotten lost several times without her. The roundabout route is necessary, though, because you manage to avoid coming across a single monster until you are within earshot of the village. Sounds of chatter drift to your ears, and you start to see movement up ahead. You spot blobs of blue slime, ranging from the size of your head to the size of your fist, crawling up and down some trees. They don’t seem disturbed by your presence as you move past them, but seeing them puts you on edge.

You’re in enemy territory now.

You stand with Blythe in the shadows of the tree line. The monster village is mostly the same as you remember it: primitive shelters are built into the trees surrounding a large, open clearing. In the center of the clearing, there is a monument that wasn’t there before. The villagers have used a combination of spider webs and plant-based cordage to lash together swords, axes, spears, armor plates, and other bits of metal, forming a foreboding, ten-foot tall pillar. Monsters of every shape and size are bustling about, bartering for food, playing games, or enjoying pleasant conversation. Near to you is the ground shelter where the monsters stashed your gear last time. At the far end of the village, you can see the tree shelter where the lamia tried to have her way with you. You wonder where that monster girl is. You’re here to subjugate the whole village, but you plan on making an effort to dominate that snake woman in particular.

Overall, the village looks lively and peaceful, despite you having left it under the cover of a battle last time. I wonder what happened to those adventurers, you think. It’s obvious that their **** of the village failed, but it’s possible that at least some of them escaped with their lives. You hope that’s the case; you’re grateful to those adventurers, since it was their attack that allowed you and Blythe to flee unnoticed. The same can’t be said for the priest who you met the next day, of course. You hope that the priest found his way to this village and was toyed with until he croaked. It’s what he deserves after what he did.

“Ready?” you ask. Blythe keeps her eyes trained on the village and nods. She reaches for the rapier at her waist as you raise your arm. The sound of the sword sliding free of its sheath attracts the attention of some of the closest monsters, but you don’t give them time to raise the alarm. Aiming right at the metal monument in the center of the village, you pour as much mana as you can into the palm of your hand and chant the incantation: “Roar, searing blaze. Ignition!”

A fireball, as wide as your arm is long, soars over the heads of the villagers, exploding on impact with the pillar of armor and weaponry. Screams ring out, and panic ensues. The monsters who heard Blythe draw her blade run towards you, but most of the villagers flee in random directions into the forest. Those who attack you are quickly dealt with by either Blythe’s masterful swordplay or a fist-sized fireball to the face. You make sure to only inflict non-lethal injuries, since killing the monsters of the forest would be counterproductive to your cause, and quickly make your way towards the center of the village. Within two minutes, you stand under the light of the burning monument. Aside from you and Blythe, and the monsters you knocked down on your way in, the village is completely deserted.

“I know you’re still close enough to hear me!” you shout into the trees. “I am the Demon Lord, Evan Reynolds. Surely, by now, you have heard my name uttered by adventurers and the like. From would-be heroes looking to claim my head. I have come to your forest now, to offer you the chance to serve me. Come forth, and submit! Or I’ll burn more than your little monument to the ground!”

A long silence stretches through the air after your declaration. You hear the sound of the trees rustling in the breeze, and the occasional calls of two different birds. The crackling of the burning pillar behind you. The faint pounding of your heart. Then you hear a new sound: someone is singing. It’s very quiet, but you recognize it immediately. The last time you heard it, you let it attract you. You let it distract you, and lure you into a trap. It has a hypnotic quality to it, that makes you want to listen. It makes you want to get closer, to hear it better, to catch a glimpse of the source of such a beautiful voice. But you know this trick. Rather than being drawn in by the alluring song, you locate the direction it’s coming from and raise your open palm. You send a fist-sized fireball towards the source, large enough to scare the singing monster but small enough to be put out quickly if you hit a tree. The last thing you want to do is start a forest fire.

The second attack comes from the opposite direction. A small bronze knife zips past your ear and into the dirt in front of you. You turn your head and see a lamia charging you with incredible speed. You try to turn your body and cast another fireball, but you won’t make it in time. Luckily, Blythe is quick enough to step in and raise her sword in your defense. The lamia rears up at the last possible second, and you realize that it’s the same amber-skinned, chocolate brown-haired snake woman who captured you the last time. Her hazel eyes flick left and right, looking for openings and finding none. You catch her glancing skyward, and instantly spin around again. Something is diving through the air towards you, fast.

This time, you’re quick enough to lob a fireball at the approaching enemy. It would have been a direct hit, but the monster dodges your flames by extending its bird-like wings and abandoning its dive attack. As it circles overhead looking for another opening, you get a closer look and recognize the cyan hair and the bright red strip of feathers on her wings: she’s the harpy who you saw join the fight against those adventurers last time.

These two again, you think. They were the most active defenders in the battle back then, too. Are they the leaders?

You hear movement from behind and dive roll forward just before the lamia’s tail can sweep you off your feet. The roll leaves you crouching on the ground right next to the bronze knife that was thrown at you. Trusting Blythe to counter-attack the lamia, you turn your eyes to the sky. Sure enough, the harpy is mid-dive once again, this time aiming for Blythe. Another fireball launches from your arm. The harpy tries twisting in the air to dodge your attack, but ends up losing her composure and crashing to the ground. A scream rings out as Blythe scores a hit on the lamia. You seize the opportunity and scoop up the bronze knife, then dash towards the grounded harpy. The bird woman tries to kick away as you approach, but you’re too fast. You dive on top of her and press the knife to her throat.

“Yield,” you command. The harpy has bright red eyes, matching the line of feathers along the bottom edge of her wing-arms. Her eyes are alert, but not afraid. You can’t afford to look away, so you can’t be sure of why she doesn’t seem terrified by the knife digging into her neck. The lamia has gotten pretty vocal since you pinned the harpy. She grunts whenever she attacks, and screams out whenever Blythe lands a hit. Blythe, by contrast, is dead silent the whole time; you’re not sure if that’s reassuring or not. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you stare into the harpy’s strangely focused, yet uncaring eyes. Does she still think she can win? The question haunts you as seconds tick by.

“No! Let her go!” You hear the deep, feminine voice of the lamia coming from your left.

“Evan,” says Blythe, also on your left. “It is over.”

Blythe’s statement causes the harpy’s expression to change, ever so slightly. The alertness in her eyes disappears, replaced by something between boredom and mild disappointment. You take that as her giving up, and remove the knife from her throat. As you hoped, she remains perfectly still beneath you and doesn’t try anything. You look over to your left. Blythe is standing over the lamia with her rapier poised to slice the monster girl’s neck. The lamia is lying in the dirt, watching you pin the harpy, with panic-stricken eyes. From the looks of it, Blythe had to stab her several times before she went down. None of the lamia’s wounds will be fatal if she gets treated soon, but right now she doesn’t have strength left to move.

You look around the village. All along the outskirts, you see monsters hiding in the shadows. Afraid to intervene. Curious to see how this 2v2 will end. You stand up and take a few steps back from the harpy. Then you speak to the cyan and scarlet-feathered woman, yet project your voice loud enough to be heard by all the monsters in the area.

“Yield, and swear your loyalty to me.”

“Never!” says the lamia. “Fuck y-ough!” Blythe plants her boot on the snake woman’s back.

The harpy slowly starts moving to sit up.

“Run away, sister! Run!”

The harpy ignores the lamia’s words and leans forward. As the bird woman starts to crawl towards you, the lamia’s voice becomes more and more ****.

“No, wait, what are you doing? Get away while you can!”

The harpy stops crawling once the tips of her wings touch your boots. She looks up at you with those same dispassionate eyes, that same unreadable face that makes you wonder what she could possibly be thinking about.

“He’s human! You can’t trust h-him!” Blythe stomps on the lamia’s back again, and the harpy looks over at the pair. You see the moment that the last vestiges of hope fade from the snake woman’s eyes, then watch as the harpy turns her attention back to you. The alertness is back in the bird woman’s eyes — or is it seriousness? She bows her head to the ground.

“We yield,” says the harpy in a calm, resolute tone. The message is heard loud and clear by the crowd of monsters hiding in the shadows around the village, and they release a sigh of resignation en masse. Some of them even come out of hiding and prostrate themselves before you.

You’ve won.