Awaken

Chapter three -Awaken-

Amelia sighed, realizing that arguing with Alice now wouldn't be productive. "Fine, Alice, we'll deal with the consequences together. But next time, try to leave a bit less of a mess, if possible."

Nalia chuckled, standing up and looking at the gruesome scene. "Aye, and I'll need a new pair of boots after stepping in that."

Alice gave a mischievous grin, her icy demeanor softening just a bit. "Agreed, let's clean up this mess and figure out our next move."

Nalia, always the resourceful one, interjected, "Alice, don't forget, Zasalamel can use his necromancy to recreate the body or at least provide us with enough evidence to cover our tracks."

Alice nodded, her calculating mind already working on a plan. "Good point, Nalia. If only we knew what was wrong."

The four women gathered around Zasalamel's **** body on the bed, their concern evident in their expressions. They had been waiting for him to regain consciousness, worried about his condition.

Amelia spoke softly, "He's been out for too long. We need to do something about this."

Nura Abu added, "We can't let our necromancer stay down too long. He's our best chance at handling this mess."

After a moment of silent agreement, they continued their conversation. Nalia's face grew grim as she confirmed what she had discovered while infiltrating the Duke's manor.

"I've gathered more information, and it's worse than we thought. The Duke is using a combination of ****, ****, and dark magic to **** and control women. And each of us is on his list," she reported with anger and determination.

Alice's eyes blazed with a cold fury.

"Zasalamel told us this would be the case," she declared with unwavering determination. "And if we follow the same realm of thinking, then he is also correct that the entire village is in on it, too."

Nura Abu said, "But there's no way all the women are just willing participants in this."

Nalia cut in, "We also can't openly go against the Duke right now. We're better off fighting a shadow war here, uncovering the truth without revealing our hand too soon."

Amelia nodded in agreement. "We'll need a well-thought-out plan. We can't let the Duke catch wind of our intentions. We'll need to gather more information and allies who can help us in the shadows."

"I still say let Zasalamel cut loose on the village. He's the one who was hurt the most here, betrayed by the people he trusted!" Nura Abu exclaimed with a fiery determination.

Amelia shook her head, her voice calm but firm. "That is, quite literally, the worst idea. I do empathize with Zasalamel's pain, but we can't forget he's still a necromancer. The only reason he isn't being attacked in half the places we go is because he's traveling with the hero, Alice."

The tension in the room hung thick as they wrestled with the complex emotions and the difficult choices ahead.

Alice, listening to the discussion, weighed in with her perspective. "Nura Abu, I understand your anger, but resorting to unleashing Zasalamel's powers on the village would bring about far-reaching consequences, not just for us but for innocent villagers as well, and dont forget he has been showing the rest of the world the good that necromancy can be used for with its other subcategories of magic countering the stigmatization that the undeath magic it is known for can bring. We can't let our emotions guide us down that path."

Nura Abu clenched her fists but nodded, begrudgingly acknowledging the point. "I get it. I'm just frustrated with this whole situation."

Amelia added, "We all are, but we must be strategic. Our goal is to expose the Duke's atrocities and save the victims, not create more suffering."

6 Years ago

In the heart of the dark forest, a solitary cabin defiantly stands, its presence whispered among the townsfolk. Yet, none muster the courage to approach, for haunting tales speak of a witch that calls it home. Legend spoke of the witch as a mesmerizing enchantress, her gaze possessing the power to ensnare a man's heart in an instant, and this night was no exception.

Should anyone summon the courage to venture into the sinister forest and draw near the witch's cabin, they would be greeted by the solitary flicker of a candle in the window. For those who dared to advance further, their ears would capture a woman's soft, alluring moans. And if their audacity pushed them even closer, the unmistakable sounds of a bed creaking and the sensuous meeting of wet flesh would tantalize their senses.

But tonight wasn't about domination; on any other night, she would be instructing him in the art of dominance and breaking a woman, but not on this particular night. This night was a celebration of their first anniversary together.

Her hips rolled forward, and she threw her head back in a fit of ecstasy, her body shivering from the intensity. He was a perfect specimen of masculinity, his lean, muscular body covered in a thin layer of sweat. Their bodies were entwined together, the bed creaking under the weight of their passion. She rode him, her hands gripping his broad shoulders for leverage.

She was close, the familiar coiling sensation in the pit of her stomach tightening as her womanhood swallowed all ten inches of meat that he fed her lower mouth.

At first, he had been a challenge, not the biggest she had ever encountered, but his girth made up for it. The thickness of his cock stretched her wide, rubbing deliciously against her walls.

She sighed with intensity, her tender voice resonating, "You possess a captivating strength. Release the tenderness, and you could effortlessly command any woman."

Her nails pressed firmly into his shoulders, heightening the pleasure surging through her. With a cry of euphoria, she reached her climax, her grip tightening on the shaft. Collapsing onto him, she buried her face in his neck, whispering, "Remarkable pleasure!"

The words ignited a thrill within him, and he climaxed, his essence surging deeply into her. She sighed with pleasure, her frame quivering from the intensity. After a brief pause, she gracefully disengaged and strolled to the opposite end of the cabin, a subtle aftermath evident.

"You possess the correct instrument; it's the perspective that requires a shift!" The witch returned to her table across the room.

"You're still too damn scared to act like a man and dominate women like a bitch in heat."

She grabbed her clothes, and the two of them dressed.

He shook his head, "I don't l... treating a woman that way just doesn't sit right with me." Zasalamel responded, looking down.

"Your innocence will lead to your doom. Your desire to save every woman will be your downfall, especially when you don't have the will to dominate like a man should. You're a **** to your emotions and want to protect and help. But what good is wanting to help and protect if you lack the resolve to do what is necessary?"

He turned away, the truth of her words hitting home.

"Lucky for you, the first step in correcting yourself is breaking you and building your back up. I hope you've enjoyed the taste of my pussy because you won't ever taste it again without **** me first." The witch said, causing a look of terror to appear on the young man's face

"Oh, and it gets even better; for the next six months, twice a week, we will travel back into town to watch what these men do to your mother, sister, and friend. And every time you see them getting fucked, you will be **** to watch what they've become and what you need to become if you even want a sliver of hope to save them. You will lose them forever if you can't overcome that fear."

As the witch spoke, her eyes glowed an eery green as everything around Zasalamel faded to black.

"This is the path that I've chosen for you, Zasalamel; either you grow up and become the dominant male you need to be, or you will fail. The choice is yours."

Those words echoed around his head as the blackness went away. The dark-skinned man found himself staring at a ceiling.

Sure! Here's the corrected version with spelling and grammar fixes:

---

Back to the Present Day

"Ugh."

It was all that Zasalamel could muster, a deep pain in his body. He slowly sat up, looking around and noticing the four women surrounding him.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty. It's good to have you back." Alice's voice broke the silence, conveying her relief and concern.

"How long was I out?"

"Two days," Amelia responded, her voice heavy with guilt.

"Two days... then why did I dream of my master?" he muttered under his breath.

"Zasalamel?" Amelia said, confused.

"Nothing," he said, waving his hand. "Did all the women safely make it through the gate? What has been going on since I've been ****?"

Nalia, Alice, and Nura Abu began recounting events since he had heard about the Duke's crimes. The news had little impact, as he already knew the Duke's true nature, having witnessed the harm inflicted on his family by the Duke.

"It seems things are progressing in the expected way. I suppose we should prepare for the coming storm," he mused, his voice a low murmur.

After a brief moment, Zasalamel's attention was drawn to a heap of mutilated flesh on the floor, accompanied by the splattered blood that adorned the room. "So, what transpired here?" he mused, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"Let's just say a certain noble tried his luck and failed miserably. His body has already been disposed of," Nalia explained, the slight smirk on her face betraying her amusement.

"We still have a role to play, and even this piece of shit cannot be taken off the board just yet." Despite the venom in his voice, his words revealed a **** acknowledgment of the necessity to resurrect the fallen noble, Zasalamel responded.

"Are you able to raise the dead? Or will you require more mana?" Alice asked, a hint of concern in her tone.

Zasalamel stood, slowly stretching. "I'm capable of casting the spell, but not at my peak capacity. Either way, I need to resculpt his body first, or he'll be a living pile of flesh wailing in agony."

"And the mess?" Amelia questioned, glancing around the room.

"A minor inconvenience, nothing more," Zasalamel replied dismissively, waving his hand in a flourish. A dark aura enveloped the room, and the blood all started to move back towards and into the mutilated corpse. Once the last drop had returned, Zasalamel uttered an incantation. The body, which had previously looked like a mass of ground meat and bones, started moving and animating, creating a grotesque dance of living bone and flesh.

The women watched with horror and fascination, and their faces twisted in disgust.

Zasalamel's incantation hung in the air, weaving a surreal dance of living bone and flesh. The grotesque reanimation unfolded, creating a disturbing display of the once-lifeless now stirred back to its original form. The room bore witness to the unsettling outcome of Zasalamel's dark reconstruction of the dead noble's body.

"Gross. You know, he actually looks uglier this way," Nura Abu remarked, disdain lacing his words as he insulted the deceased, fat noble.

"I could have gone my entire life without seeing that creature naked—first the father and now the son," Nalia, the Elven beauty, added with a grimace, her delicate features contorted in disgust as her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose.

Zasalamel chuckled and smiled with a sinister grin that the women willfully ignored.

"It is not a pretty sight," Alice responded, the disgust written clearly on her face. "Oh, I meant his existence; your necromancy is as wonderful as ever, my darling," the paladin added, looking at the necromancer with a longing gaze.

"Now all that is left is for me to pull his soul back from the deepest, darkest pits of the fucking abyss that it has gone to and put it back into his grotesque body; then he will live again," Zasalamel said as he stared at the noble. "But first..."

Green flames erupted over the dark-skinned necromancer's body as he started another incantation.

"By shadows deep and spirits cold,

In realms where life and **** unfold.

Flesh crafting, weave the threads of bone,

Reshape the form; let **** dethrone.

From mortal coil to a macabre art,

Awaken now, each stitched part.

As I speak in whispers grim,

Grant the dead a form to swim.

Breathe in essence, forge anew,

Flesh crafting, my command to you.

From ****'s grasp, reclaim and bind,

A puppet formed of bone and mind.

Flesh Craft!"

The girls watched as the medium-sized cock, barely escaping the grotesque flaps of fat, began to shrink inward. Gradually, the fat completely overlapped it, and eventually, it vanished entirely, along with his smelly balls, leaving only a smooth expanse of skin over his entire crotch.

"A retribution for the audacity to lay hands on what belonged to me and for snatching away what was once cherished!" Zasalamel said cruelly.

The women stared silently, a sense of satisfaction settling over the room. The corpse lay unmoving, the air still, no one daring to break the silence.

"Now that the flesh is reshaped, it is time for his soul," Zasalamel said, breaking the silence.

The dark-skinned necromancer knelt before the body, placing his palms against its forehead. The room darkened, and a black aura flowed from his hands into the body. The room filled with a haunting incantation, its words cold and the sound chilling to the bone.

"In shadows' grip, where silence screams,

A realm obscured, with haunting dreams.

From ****'s cold clutch, I conjure thee,

A resurrection, dark decree.

Resurrection!"

As the incantation reached a crescendo, the aura flowed faster, the body jolting and twitching with every word. After a few moments, the aura vanished, and Zasalamel removed his hands before standing back up.

The women remained silent, watching as the body convulsed for a few seconds. Suddenly, the body shot up, a scream ripping from its throat. The women looked unfazed as if they'd seen him do this a thousand times before.

"Ahhh!" the newly resurrected Lucius Malachai Villainthorn screamed as his eyes flew open, his gaze frantically darting around the room.

"Shut up!" Zasalamel commanded, but he continued to scream before seeing Alice and going into a panic, trying to claw himself away from her.

"It's not real! I swear! It's not me! I was ****! It's not real!" Lucius begged, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, would you shut up already!" Nura Abu's annoyed voice echoed as she administered a powerful kick to his stomach, sending him hurtling against the unforgiving wall. Lucius wheezed, the air **** from his lungs by the impact.

"Can we get him out of here already?" the paladin insisted, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword. Her gaze was unwavering, a mix of frustration and resolve. "I'm finding it increasingly challenging to resist the impulse to kill him again."

Zasalamel advanced, gracefully kneeling before the corrupt son of a tainted nobleman. "Listen carefully. You will depart this place and utter no word of Alice's involvement in your demise or my role in your resurrection. Keep your silence, fix your gaze on the ground, and await what unfolds. Understand, this isn't mere mercy; your suffering is deferred, not erased. Rise and depart, for another day has been reluctantly granted," he declared, with an unsettling glow from his eyes.

With a subtle gesture, Zasalamel signaled for the corrupted nobleman to rise. As the man hesitantly stood, a palpable tension lingered, a reminder of the impending reckoning. "Now go," Zasalamel commanded, the air thick with the weight of his words. The corrupt nobleman, visibly shaken, left with a silent acknowledgment of the cryptic mercy bestowed upon him.

The fat noble scrambled as he crawled towards the door and out of the inn room. The five individuals watched before closing the door and turning back to each other.

"So how much time do you think we have before he goes blabbering everything to his disgusting father?" asked Nalia, who never left her position of leaning against the wall. She turned her head to look out the window, watching the fat pig run naked down the road.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it; I may or may not have toyed with his soul a little bit..."

"Meaning?"

"He won't remember anything from the last few hours before his ****."

"Well, that's good. How are you feeling, though?" Amelia asked, her expression revealing her concern.

"Much better, thank you."

"Exactly what happened to you? At first, we thought you'd just drained all your mana. Still, a few hours of rest should've been enough to recover from that," Alice inquired, her voice laced with concern as the other women's eyes fixated on him, waiting for an explanation.

"It's hard to explain," Zasalamel said, turning his gaze away from the women. "I was... in a dream, or maybe it was a memory. But it reminded me of something important—something I learned from my master." His voice trailed off before he added, almost to himself, "Perhaps I need to pay her a visit."

"Pay her a visit?" Amelia asked.

"Yes, if she hasn't relocated, her home should still be in the woods just outside of town," Zasalamel replied, glancing back at Amelia. "Far enough that she won't have to deal with random townspeople, but close enough to keep an eye on things."

"There's still much to investigate. See if you can locate any potential allies and uncover more information about the Duke and his crimes," Alice suggested.

"I'm not sure we can trust anyone here. They all seem corrupt," Nura Abu commented.

"The real question is, do you believe we can trust this master of yours? You've been gone for a long time, and she could have changed since then," Alice asked.

"No, you have no idea how much she despises the Duke who controls this territory. I was always shocked when I realized it myself. It's remarkable that she hasn't already razed this place to the ground and killed everyone in it. I used to think it was because she wanted to avoid the kingdom's attention or deal with the current hero party... you ladies," Zasalamel said firmly.

The four women looked at him, considering his words. After a moment, Amelia broke the silence. "All right. If you trust her, then we will give her a chance. But be careful, Zasalamel, the Duke's men could be watching."

"Alright, then," Alice said, "No time like the present. Let us pay this witch a visit... after Zasalamel rests up, of course."

"Huh, no, it's probably best if I go alone. There's no telling what she'd do if she senses more than one—" Before Zasalamel could finish speaking, Nura Abu cut him off. "Yeah, don't bother finishing that sentence. We just lost you for two days. If you think any of us are letting you out of our sights again, you'll have a four-woman fight on your hands."

Amelia nodded in agreement, while Alice and Nalia just grinned. Zasalamel sighed. "I suppose it's useless to try and convince you otherwise, is it not?"

"Indeed." Alice smiled. "Now, get some rest, and we will make preparations for our trip."

Amelia added, "Remember, no more using up all your mana!"

"No, my mana is fully restored, and it's best we leave now. While the moon is high, reaching her cabin during the day is impossible. If it's in the same spot, we'll arrive by the time the moon is at its peak." The necromancer said, straightening his outfit before turning toward the door.

"Very well. We shall meet you downstairs," Alice said, turning towards the other women and gesturing towards the door. The four of them followed the necromancer's lead, exiting the room and making their way down the stairs of the silent inn.

---

As they descended the creaky stairs, the chill of the inn seeped into their bones, the empty halls echoing their footsteps. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, amplifying the unsettling atmosphere. Zasalamel led the way, his hood pulled low to obscure his features, the faint outline of his form barely visible in the dim light.

Amelia hung back slightly, glancing at Alice. "Are you sure about this? I can't shake the feeling that this is a dangerous path."

Alice offered a reassuring smile, her eyes radiating unwavering confidence. "If Zasalamel believes in his master, then we must trust him. And even if she were to betray us, who among us could possibly stand against the five of us when we fight together?" she asked, her tone rhetorical.

Amelia sighed, knowing that Alice was right, and the paladin's confidence helped put her mind at ease. "I hope you're right, Alice. I hope you're right."

The five companions stepped into the night, a chill breeze rustling their clothes as they ventured into the shadows. The darkened streets were alive with unsettling sounds; the moans of women and the dull thud of flesh striking flesh echoed from rundown buildings and dark alleyways.

The group pushed forward, attempting to disregard the sounds of sex that flowed through the air as they neared the town's entrance. An imposing iron gate stood before them, locked tight, its rusted hinges creaking ominously in the night breeze.

One guard lounged on a stool beside the gate, seemingly indifferent to the world around him. In front of him, a woman knelt, her head bobbing rhythmically as she sucked on his cock robotically. The lewd sounds of her actions echoed softly in the silence, adding to the lifelessness of her movements.

Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the night, emanating from the guard room next to the gate. The door flew open, and a woman stumbled out, her clothes torn and her face streaked with tears. Panic etched across her features, she barely had time to register her surroundings before three guards erupted from the room in hot pursuit.

She dashed away, but her escape was short-lived. One of the guards lunged forward, seizing her by the hair and yanking her back, forcing her off balance. With a cry of pain, she stumbled, her eyes wide with terror as another guard advanced, viciously tearing at the remnants of her clothing, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. The guards closed in, their intentions clear. The woman struggled, kicking and screaming, but the men were undeterred, their hands rough and their words coarse.

"You thought you could get away, slut?" one taunted, a sadistic gleam in his eyes. "Our night is just beginning."

Before anyone could react, a dagger silently sliced through the air, embedding itself in the neck of one of the guards standing over the sobbing woman. His eyes bulged, hands flying to the wound as a torrent of blood sprayed across her tear-streaked face. His body staggered before collapsing in a heap beside her.

Unseen and undetected by the remaining guards, Nalia had slipped behind him, her movements as swift and quiet as a shadow. She twisted the dagger free, her violet eyes flashing with cold satisfaction. Though the guards were oblivious to her presence, her comrades in the hero's party followed her fluid movements effortlessly.

"Too slow," she whispered under her breath, her form already vanishing into the night before the other guards realized what had happened.

The two guards, still gripping the now-shocked woman, stared in confusion at their fallen comrade, his lifeless body sprawled on the ground. Even the guard who had been lazily sitting at the gate getting his cock sucked turned to look, his face twisting in bewilderment. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to register—that their friend had been killed in an instant. Before they could react, Nalia's dagger flashed once more, slicing cleanly across the second guard's throat. He staggered, releasing the woman as his hands flew to his neck, blood spilling between his fingers as he crumpled to the ground, **** on his own lifeblood.

Amelia instinctively stepped forward, ready to heal the guard out of reflex. Still, Alice swiftly blocked her path, shaking her head firmly. "No," the paladin said, her voice calm but resolute. There would be no mercy here.

The third guard, now alone and fully aware of the danger, shoved the woman to the ground in panic, causing her to fall with a cry of pain. His confusion quickly turned to fear, his hands trembling as he fumbled for his sword. He drew the blade, its tip shaking as he pointed it toward the remaining members of the hero's party, his face pale with terror.

Meanwhile, the guard at the gate frantically pushed the lifeless woman's head off his lap. His tiny cock escaping her mouth with an audible 'pop' sound, struggled to pull his pants back on while fumbling for his own weapon. His panic was evident, his fingers clumsy as they tried to grasp the hilt of his sword. Fear clouded his every movement as he realized that all he could really understand was that now two guards were dead, and right before him was the hero's party there to kill a demon!

The guard’s shaky hands barely managed to grip his sword as the blood drained from his face. His cock, half-hard and glistening from the woman's robotic efforts, was now the least of his concerns. The sight of two comrades lying dead in pools of their own blood snapped him into a state of panic.

The third guard, sword still shakily raised toward Alice's party, staggered backward, his eyes wide with terror. "W... what di—" Before he could finish, he collapsed, dead. Nalia's dagger had struck again with deadly precision, her movements swift and lethal, leaving only one guard standing.

The last guard, pale with fear, was pressed against the cold, towering wall connected to the locked gate. His sword clattered to the ground, his courage utterly spent as he stared in horror at the bodies of his comrades.

Amelia, ignoring the guard, rushed to the side of the lifeless woman. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her eyes vacant, staring into nothingness. Though she still clung to life, it was clear that something inside her was broken—empty, hollow, as if all light had been drained from her soul.

"She's alive," Amelia whispered, her voice thick with sorrow, "but barely."

The woman, barely breathing, lay motionless, her eyes fixed on the night sky.

"Can you heal her?" Alice asked, gently lifting the second woman to her feet, her tone laced with urgency.

Amelia knelt beside the lifeless woman, her hands glowing softly as she examined her broken form. She sighed, her expression somber. "Her body... it's too far gone. The **** has saturated her system. It would take more than a single healing session—much more—to purge the corruption completely." Amelia’s fingers lightly traced the woman's pallid skin, her vacant eyes staring ahead. "She's been damaged deeply, both inside and out."

Nalia, ever efficient, had already relieved the dead guards of their valuables before delivering a swift, lethal strike to the final guard. His body crumpled to the ground without a sound, and within moments, she was back to rifling through their belongings. Her violet eyes glinted in the dim light as she pocketed anything of worth—coins, weapons, and any useful trinkets—working quickly.

"We can't leave these two alone," Nura Abu said, her voice hard with frustration.

"We also can't save or protect everyone," Nalia replied coolly, barely glancing up. "Even with our power, we must choose our actions carefully."

"That's rich, coming from the one who just slaughtered four guards without a second thought," Nura shot back.

Nalia paused, her fingers momentarily stilling as her violet eyes met Nura's. After a brief silence, she spoke, her voice quieter, "...My apologies. I've witnessed too much **** these past three days—and I couldn't intervene. I wasn’t going to watch another tonight." She said, standing up from the guards’ bodies. "But you’re right, this won’t happen again."

With a swift motion, Nalia reached into one of her belt pouches, her fingers brushing against the magical interior of her bag of holding. She pulled out a black hooded cloak and tossed it over the woman on the ground, covering her still form.

"You all continue ahead; I'll take these two back to our room in the inn to watch over until your return," She said, picking the girl wrapped in her cloak up and then looking at the second girl she had just saved who only was looking between them, frightened and still covered in the guard's blood.

"You all continue ahead. I'll take these two back to the inn and watch over them until your return," Nalia said as she bent down, lifting the first girl wrapped in her cloak with ease, the woman's fragile body barely making a sound in her arms.

The elf then turned to the second girl she had just saved. The young woman stood frozen, her eyes darting between Nalia and the others, wide with fear and shock, her body still smeared with the guards' blood. Her trembling hands clutched at the tattered remains of her clothing, barely able to comprehend what had just happened.

"It’s alright," Nalia added, her tone softer than usual but firm enough to cut through the girl's daze. "You’re safe now. Come with me."

The second girl, though visibly shaken, nodded hesitantly. Nalia then began to follow the elf as she returned to the inn.

With no further distractions, Zasalamel turned toward the lifeless bodies, his voice cold and commanding. "Raise dead," he spoke, his words laced with dark magic. Immediately, the corpses stirred, rising as mindless zombies under his control.

"Open the gate," he ordered, his tone brooking no defiance. "Once we have passed through, close it again and return to your eternal slumber."

The undead moved without hesitation, their decaying forms shambling toward the gate mechanism. They turned the creaking wheel atop the wall several times, causing the gate to slowly lift off the ground. As the gate creaked open, the eerie groan of rusted metal echoed through the air. Zasalamel watched with impassive eyes as the zombies moved with jerky, unnatural motions.

Once the gate was fully raised, Alice gestured to the others. "Let's move."

Zasalamel, catching the cue, stepped forward first, and the rest of the group followed closely behind without hesitation. They passed through the iron gate one by one, the tension thick in the air. As the group's last member crossed the threshold, Zasalamel raised his hand. With a snap of his fingers, the undead collapsed in unison, their bodies falling limp to the ground, returning to their lifeless state.

---

Two or three hours had passed as Alice, Amelia, and Nura Abu trailed behind Zasalamel in the cold, dark forest. The necromancer moved confidently, fully aware of their path. At the same time, the three women remained uncertain of their location, destination, or how much longer they would be traveling together. Yet, their faith in him was all they needed to continue the journey without complaining.

Amelia glanced up, noting the moon's position, her thoughts turning to their absent companions.

"What are you thinking, Amelia?" Alice asked, her voice gentle.

"I'm wondering if Nalia is okay and what is going on with the two girls."

"Well, the girls are probably scared out of their minds, but they are safe, and we're going to make sure they remain safe.

"Maybe I should’ve stayed with them, and Nalia should have come instead," Amelia questioned.

Alice glanced at her, her expression calm but firm. "You’re exactly where you need to be, Amelia. Nalia is better suited for the shadows, but we need your light with us for what's ahead."

Amelia gave a small nod, though her brows remained furrowed. "I just can’t help but worry. Those girls... they’ve been through so much. I hope Nalia can protect them."

"Haven't you saved and protected enough? You saved an entire church full of women," Zasalamel remarked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet night as he glanced over his shoulder at Amelia.

The saintess looked up at him, her amber eyes soft but conflicted. "Saving one group doesn’t make up for all the others still suffering," she replied, her tone tinged with guilt. "For every life we save, there are so many more we can't reach."

Zasalamel's gaze lingered on her momentarily before he returned to the path ahead. "That’s the burden of the healer. You can’t save everyone, Amelia. But the ones you do save? You give them a chance at life again. That has to be enough."

Walking beside her, Alice said reassuringly, "He's right. We're all doing what we can. That's all we can ask of ourselves."

"We're here," Zasalamel said, his voice low and steady as he came to a halt just in front of an old, weathered fence. It surrounded a rustic wooden cabin, its exterior aged and worn by time. The place looked like it had been abandoned for years, yet a single candle burned faintly in the window. Its flickering light cast a dim glow but did little to pierce the thick veil of darkness that seemed to cling to the inside of the cabin.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Alice asked, a hint of unease creeping into her tone. "It looks... rather... deserted."

"Yes. This is the place, and prepare yourselves because it's coming," Zasalamel replied firmly as a green aura slowly surrounded his body.

Before anyone could ask what Zasalamel meant, the door to the cabin burst open with a deafening crash. From within the shadowy depths, a horde of imps—small, grotesque creatures with leathery wings, sharp claws, and wicked grins—began to pour out in a chaotic swarm. Their high-pitched screeches filled the air as they rushed toward the hero’s party, clawing and snapping with frenzied energy.

Nura Abu let out a feral, animalistic roar, her muscles tensing as she charged forward to meet the imps head-on, swinging her great axe. Her battle cry echoed through the night, challenging all who dared stand against her.

Alice followed close behind, raising her shield and drawing her holy sword from its sheath, the blade instantly glowing with radiant, divine energy. The sheer light radiating from the sword seared the nearest imps, causing them to shriek in agony as their twisted bodies recoiled from their purifying aura.

"Back to the hell where you belong!" Alice shouted, her voice full of the righteousness of her conviction. One swing of her blade seemed to cut down four or five imps at a time, their forms dissolving into wisps of smoke before they even hit the ground.

The imps screeched, but Alice's divine energy repelled them, their skin sizzling as they dared approach her. Nura Abu, meanwhile, tore through their ranks with raw strength; the **** of her blows cleaved and decapitated the demonic creatures one after another.

Despite the fierce resistance from Nura Abu and Alice, who held back the flood of imps, the sheer number of demons pouring out of the small cabin seemed endless. No matter how many they cut down, more imps emerged, their grotesque forms surging forward with a crazed frenzy.

Zasalamel, watching the endless horde, briefly questioned his master’s absence and the presence of these demons in the cabin. Master, where are you, and why are these demons in your home? But the thought was fleeting. There was no time to dwell on it as the situation became increasingly dire.

Zasalamel began to weave his magic, quick-casting a powerful spell. "Necrotic Tendrils!" he intoned, his voice carrying an ominous weight. Dark, withered tendrils erupted from the ground, surging up like hungry serpents. The tendrils lashed out, ensnaring dozens of imps in their grasp.

As the demonic creatures struggled against the tightening grip, the tendrils began to sap their life ****. The imps' already twisted bodies started to wither and decay, their shrieks of pain filling the air as the dark magic drained them of vitality. Their once-fiery eyes dimmed, and their bodies crumbled into ash.

Despite the spell's effectiveness, more imps continued to rush forward, replacing the fallen ones. It was like the cabin was an unholy portal spewing an endless torrent of demons.

"Nura, Alice, step back!" Zasalamel yelled!

Though the two women were engaged in keeping the imps at bay, they swiftly complied, clearing a space for Zasalamel to prepare his next spell.

"Summon Spectral Hor-" he intoned. Still, his words were abruptly interrupted by a familiar, melodic laugh echoing from the cabin doorway.

As the chaotic din of battle subsided, the imps ceased pouring out, and a stunning woman stepped into view, an irresistible beauty. She was a mature, voluptuous, and very well-endowed woman with long, flowing crimson hair cascading down her back and framing her flawless peach-toned skin. Her eyes glowed with an enchanting light red, accentuated by dark, thick lashes.

She wore thigh-high leather boots that highlighted her long legs and thick thighs. At the same time, a form-fitting black corset adorned with intricate silver lace emphasized her curves. A flowing, sheer skirt stopped around her baby-making hips. From her back sprouted leathery, bat-like wings, and a slender demon's tail curled playfully around one of her legs. Two spiral horns protruding from her forehead, bent elegantly backward, following the curve of her head.

Zasalamel's eyes widened in recognition, a rush of memories flooding back. He would know that figure anywhere—it was his master who had made him a man. But now, she possessed an aura and presence far beyond what he remembered.

"Zasalamel..." The demonic woman purred, a seductive yet mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Now there’s a dick I haven't savored in quite some time. Tell me, have you learned how to make a woman truly submit to your cock yet?" Her voice dripped with temptation and sultry allure, wrapping around each word like a whisper of seduction.