Devil and Candlemaker
"Everyone knows about heroes, adventurers, nobles; people that matter. No one remembers the name of those shunned, or their descendants. Especially when their crimes were severe enough to sell them to Melromarc's enemies. Don't worry, though. Master has only one directive for me: serve the Shield Hero, kill any that wish him harm." F/F romance, slavery, dark themes.
All warnings placed in chapter 1 are in place for the duration of the story. I won't bog this down by placing anything more than chapter-specific warnings here.
Chapter specific warning!
I toned it down best I could while still getting the point across, but a few scenes in here may be a bit much. If that isn't your thing, stop reading after they enter the cave and you'll be fine.
Second Arc—Everything is a game, you need only decipher the rules
Chapter Twenty-Five—Summoning Heroes
8-8
"Alright. Shop ideas. Go." With our Home Base renovated—doors all solid stone and enchanted to be unbreakable, windows all installed and enchanted to be unbreakable, cobwebs and mould and dust all banished, and everyone assigned a comfortable and warm bed—we sit down to supper, the lot of us, to discuss how to proceed.
One of the many spare rooms now houses a long high table surrounded by cushioned thrones. The table itself is set with a silken cyan tablecloth dotted with my House crest, atop of which are a dozen pewter five-armed candelabras each holding long-stemmed burning candles to offer us what light they can—I don't trust those strange sconces, and with all the rats making cheap candles is free.
Deela serves me a little of every dish the kitchen staff made under her watchful eye. She ladles my wooden bowl full with stew, my wooden plate with salad and roasted potatoes. My flagon filled with milk—the only non-alcoholic beverage in our pantry, save coffee.
"We could open a clinic?" Stellar suggests as she offers me a wooden spoon for my stew, and chopsticks for the rest of it—the new servants look at their chopsticks as dubiously as the salad, working their stew in. "We do have a capable healer."
A solid option, but we'd need at least a few trained up before that's viable. Especially with Hope needing to rest so much just now.
"Well. We could sell filolial eggs?" Crayn suggests. "It would allow us to introduce them to this world and make a tidy profit."
It's certainly an option. I'm unsure if it's a good option, but that's neither here nor there.
"Could Mistress craft more furniture?" one of the new servants asks. I spoon up some stew, chewing on the soft, stringy meat.
Hmm. Between Stellar, Crayn, and myself? We could easily craft all the things we'd need to sell. We'd need to ensure a steady influx of materials, though. But, if that's handled, we could essentially make anything. Even those…rifle things and the ammunition they use.
"Mistress should consider opening an inn with a section dedicated to cheap monthly rentals." Deela scoots her cushioned throne closer to mine and lays her naked palm on my thigh, seemingly needing to feel me under her skin.
We could arrange for a few to start learning the bard's trade, for entertainment. And while I'm unsure how well an inn would do here, monthly rentals are a solid bet.
"Inns are a poor bet," Tayrend pipes up, waving his wooden spoon for emphasis. "There are inns in much better districts, and even they barely get regular clients. No, unless we're on the edge of the city, it's pointless. Rental units, yes. Those are let out almost as quick as they're advertised."
I thought as much, yes. Given Tayrend and Grin have been checking out the city, they would know better than most here.
"Unn." Grin nods, his mouth rather busy chewing. He swallows, holding his hand before his mouth just in case. "Pubs are always a safe bet though, if you don't mind people getting rowdy. And eateries are always busy. Could even try some food carts, since they're so popular here. They usually sell hot coffee and meat buns."
Makes sense, but not in this district—crime rates being so…high? Hmm. It would require more guards, but I could basically patrol the area to keep criminals at bay? It would be a point of contention with King Choros, if I'm not careful, but I could discuss the option with him to allay that.
"Uh, Mistress?" One of the guards, the ex-gangsters, scratches his cheek, clearly wondering if his opinions matter. "Brothels are popular even in this part of town. We charged six small coppers a pop."
So that's what the slaves were used for. Hmm. I've nothing against prostitution, but forcing my people feels wrong on every level. And given the Demi-Humans all look furious at their former captor…?
"I will not order my people into that life." My words ease the mounting tension. I thought so. "Unless you offer yourself?" The guard wisely gets back to his stew.
"Mistress?" One of Stellar's girls, beaming and with her mouth half full, swallows and dabs her silk napkin to make herself presentable. "You could perhaps consider a tailor. Ulaanian Demi-Humans aren't affluent, but we're loyal customers to any establishment that welcomes us."
I do have recipes for Demi-Human outfits. That's certainly an option.
"Hey, mama?" Stellar looks almost giddy with the prospect. "If I use spider's silk? We'd only need leather. And the rat leather is plentiful."
Plentiful, yes. Desirable?
"It's commonly used." The same girl beams, clearly liking the idea. "The outer coats of rat leather with bright designs. The inner layers of spider silk. And the undergarments made of linen or cotton. I could even show you how to grow them indoors!"
Hmm. Yes, that would prove most useful. "Stellar. I want you spearheading this. I'll get us a location and the hands you'll need to run it. Crayn, I want you training the guards she'll need for it and set up a patrol."
Stellar and Crayn share a look, all smiles.
"Bry. I need you checking all new acquisitions for affinity. Anyone with healing and status are to be assigned to Hope for training. All with dark are to be assigned to Tayrend. You'll take all others."
"I'll be taking the guards." Zaan cocks an eyebrow, as if to dare me to deny him.
"Good point. Crayn will be working with you. His guards will be for patrolling the streets, yours for our Strongholds."
Zaan and Crayn share a look, both quite happy with it.
"Grin. I want you working with Tayrend. I need Shadows and Thieves." My men nod, understanding just what I'm planning.
"Here." Grin fishes out his lockpicking tools. I quickly feed them to my fan.
X-X
New Recipe Unlocked: Lockpicks (ancient)
X-X
"Get some better equipment." I craft a dozen lockpicks and the same in locks without keys, offering them to him to start training. "And we need someone looking into blacksmithing." As for myself? XP farming and slave acquisition.
8-8
Chandelier shivers as I brush her. It's too cold to even consider using water just now, and I'm starting to think the blankets I wrap my flock in just isn't enough anymore. We should get going to warmer days, but somehow they only ever seem colder. Perhaps a nice long run will help keep them warm, but really, it's cruel to keep them her.
Maybe we need to look into building a little furnace in here?
"Seriously, Master. Can't we come into the house?"
Brush freezes, mid-stroke.
"I'm not kidding. It's freezing in here."
Chandelier turns, her pink feathers standing on end and large green eyes begging.
…
"Am I so bad to you that I deserve to freeze to death?"
"You can talk?" The fuck is going on here?!
"I…think so?" Chandelier doesn't seem convince herself. Is…is this like what happened with Filo?
I'm still asleep. Is that it? Is this a vivid dream?
"Seriously, Master. I'm grateful we go for long runs. And I love the food you give me. But can't I just come into the house for five minutes? Just to warm up?"
Me: "Okay. Did you question your sanity when Filo started talking?"
Naofumi: "Honestly? Not really. Talking birds is about as strange as racoon-girls and werewolves, so…"
I despise how much sense that makes.
Naofumi: "Scan 'em. If it says queen or whatever, you're not going crazy. And they should be able to transform, too. Get magical clothes or it'll get expensive fast."
I scan Chandelier. Her agility is easily triple mine, even if her strength is equal, impressive for a level nine—Filolial Queen. Hmm. I scan the rest of the flock, curious if this is a one-off.
"Definitely dreaming." Why else would all my filolials suddenly be kings and queens?
"Masteeeeeeeeer. Pretty please? It's soooooo coooooooold!"
"I'll make you a deal." My words summon all the filolials around me. "I'll bring you all inside and I'll let you warm up by the fire. But once inside, if you can't transform into a human form to take up less space, you sleep out here."
Chandelier and the flock kwee and chirp and fluff up their feathers with glee. A dozen voices promise they'll do anything I want even as Chandelier darts around me and slips her elongated neck between my thighs to slip me onto her back to hurry us along.
I send everyone a message, telling them about the agreement and to not freak out. It's mostly out of courtesy, but if I get weird or generic responses, I know this really is a dream. A disturbingly vivid dream, but just a dream. Something has to make sense, after all.
We run, the whole flock ever on my flanks, around to the servants' entrance where Chandelier kneels down so I can dismount. The guards look more than a little freaked out, but they open the door without an issue—an expected response, sadly.
My filolials dash into the manor, dancing about and flapping their wings as they sing my praises in a chorus that makes it hard to understand what they're even saying.
This is just a dream. Just a weird, vivid dream.
I walk ahead, towards the stairwell and up onto the first step, turning to them. It's chilly here, but I no longer breathe smoke. A good a place to test the waters.
"Alright. Transform here and you can come up with me." The entire flock disappears into a poof of smoke, leaving eight or nine year old boys and girls in their wake, stark naked, with full heads of hair of the same colour as their feathers, and eyes the same colour as before.
"Thank you, Master!" A pinkette with green eyes glomps me, her skin turning blue from the cold.
"Upstairs, the lot of you." I scoop…Chandelier? I scoop up the little girl in my arms and walk us up the stairs, bringing them into the sitting room and plopping the girl on the pelt by the roaring fire. The others, all of them, crowd around the pinkette. A little sea of blue and blond and pink and silver heads huddle together, none bothered by their nudity just now.
Deela and Hope come, bearing blankets and questions I have no answers to, wrapping the…children(?) in them to keep them warm just now.
All of them are lithe, even the workfowl(?). All of more or less the same height.
Me: "All of them. All of them are kings and queens. All transform. The hell is this?"
Naofumi: "Well. I only have Filo, so I'm as clueless as you. But I got one outta one, so…"
"So warm!" Chandelier swoons, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. "Thank you, Master!"
"Thank you, Master!" All the filolials chorus as one. I blink. Is it sad that I can imagine them actually being just like that? Is my brain filling in the blanks? The hell even is this?
8-8
Chandelier sprawls out on my bed, her legs spread wide. The other girls snuggle up beside her, with the boys sporting pinkie-sized erections as they stare at the naked girls—is it weird for they to be aroused by girls their own age? It's too logically consistent to be a dream. And they all sport slave-crests on their chest. I can make this work.
"Here's the deal." All filolials turn their full attention to me. "I'll assign you a room and you'll never sleep outside again, unless we're sleeping outside with you."
The cheering is almost deafening.
"But!" They quiet down, their collective attention on me once again. "You have to live as we live. That means eating only from plates, only peeing and pooing in the toilets, wearing clothes I'll arrange for you." Happy squeals wash over me as Chandelier glomps me once again, her arms wrapped around my waist and her face buried in my abdomen.
"Of course, Master! I'll be on my bestest behaviour, I promise!"
"I'm not done," I say, holding up a finger to keep their focus on me just now. "I'll also need you girls to give me lots and lots of eggs. But no mating outside your bedrooms, and you may only mate with each other, okay?"
Chandelier takes one of my hands and slips it down her butt, pressing my fingers against her very human, very child-like like crotch.
"I'm serious." I pull back my hand. "If you're filolials, I want you to only mate with other filolials. Anyone else would need special permission from me personally. Understood?"
"Of course, Master Sorrow!" Chandelier hugs me, rubbing her head against my tummy. "But if you want to mate with me, you don't even have to ask okay?" She takes my hand and slides it right back down.
"I'm grateful." I pull my hand back up, hugging her around her back. "Just keep in mind that you look like a Human child right now. I love that you look this way, but it doesn't tempt me to bed you."
"Okaaaaay." Chandelier breathes a heavy sigh. "Can I sleep with you though?"
Hmm. If she understands not to mate with me, it'd be little different from having a child in bed with me. Not the strangest thing in the world.
"Alright. But only in Human form. And each of you would need to ask your partner for their permission. If they don't like the idea, and it's perfectly within their rights to turn you down, I'll arrange a room with bedding for you."
Chandelier hugs me all the tighter, thanking me over and over and over and over.
"And call me Mistress. Just Mistress."
"Of course, Mistress." Chandelier pulls back, her big green eyes begging me to say yes. "Can I mate with Juicy? He's kinda cute." Sigh. I nudge her back and motion to my bed. She squeals and pounces on the bed, wiggling her butt up in the air. One of the boys jumps in behind her.
I'm not sure I want to witness a bunch of children, essentially, doing the deed.
8-8
I stroll along. The sewers haven't changed a bit, and no matter how often I come through here the throng of sewer rats hasn't lessened in numbers—or grown wary of me, for some odd reason.
Fans snap open. One cleaves a rat in two, the other absorbs the corpse in one clean motion. It's efficient, but I'm constantly bathed in rat blood for it. Not the most disgusting thing down here, sadly.
X-X Job Update! X-X
Kill 20 sewer rats: 97/20
X-X
Another rat lunges for me. Rear fan lashes forwards, changing positions so the other fan can absorb the corpse. I don't even break stride, cleaving through them like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Two rats wise up and turn tail. I fling one of my fans, spinning it and tearing through both of them with a single attack. Shadows pool at my feet, tendrils lashing out and claiming the corpses, bringing them for me and feeding them to my fans.
I just keep walking along, wondering at this new section of sewers. The ceiling is higher here, but the map above me isn't plotted just yet. I message Tayrend about scouting it for me, walking along.
Hissing. Not the usual rat meeps and hissing. A snake, thick enough to swallow me whole and long enough to make me feel insignificant, lunges for me. Shadowy tendrils grip its head and as much of its long body as they can while my fans slice it into more manageable chunks for my fans to absorb.
X-X
Bestiary Updated
X-X
New Passive Skill Unlocked: Dark Vision
X-X
New Poison Unlocked: Sewer Viper Venom
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X-X STAT BOOST X-X
Vision raised to 35!
X-X
X-X STAT BOOST X-X
Hearing raised to 28!
X-X
X-X Base Stat Boost! X-X
Wisdom raised to 18!
X-X
Vision sharps. It's a little strange to see beams sky blue mingling with the dreary black and white sewers, but better than it was, given I can see into the distance now. Not far, maybe fifteen metres before it fades back to silhouettes. A vast improvement all the same. These fans just open up so many gorgeous options I've never had before.
That should be enough rats for now. What about sewer urchins?
With a shift in job focus, Rat's Map pops up, showing eighteen marked sewer urchin hotspots, only three of which are nearby. Those clerks make my job so much easier—I should be nicer to them, or at least try.
8-8
"Welcome back, Lady Candlemaker." Sechen smiles, already scanning my and marking my jobs as complete as she fishes out my pay and bonuses. "We've just gotten in a new job notice. A farm outside the city is overrun with goblins again. It's One Star Copper that won't pay very well, but if you could…?"
"Goblins?" I know what they are, but I've heard no mention of them whatsoever, not in this world.
"Unn." Sechen nods, her smile souring and suddenly forced. "They only come out at night. Kidnap women and kill men indiscriminately. A pest, mostly, but…Please, Lady Candlemaker. Life outside the city is hard enough. I'd view your taking this as a personal favour to me." She bows so low her face smacks the front desk, hard.
Well. I did say I should be nicer to them.
My hand reaches out, and Sechen is quick to produce the job notice.
Rat's Map loads, showing the target farm just outside the city—not just outside the gate, though. It'll be a hell of a run to get there, and it's already getting late.
Me: "Party, other than pregnant people. Suit up. Goblin hunting tonight."
8-8
We run. Not the gentle workout to stretch our legs, no, this is the wind howling overhead as Chandelier pushes herself almost to the point of exhaustion. I know little about monsters in this world, but if Sechen was so deeply disturbed by this, there's call for haste.
The lands outside Ulaan are…hard to describe. This isn't the rolling hills and grasslands I saw before. It's almost barren, lifeless. Muddied earth chilled to the point of freezing, little more. Only not in a way that suggests it's in any way new—it's as if life was sucked out of the land itself and is all but forgotten.
Sun dips low on the western horizon by the time a tepid little farmhouse up the way comes into view. Large ochre-furred bovines with massive horns that slope downwards and almost reach the ground are chased back into a scorched barn, with half the roof clearly missing, by bow-wielding riders. Six-legged goats huddle together in an open field where what's left of the border fence is charcoal—each clearly so freaked out they're frozen stiff.
As we get closer, it becomes obvious they're just frozen—the blood on the grass beneath them and gaping holes hint they're little more than husks now. Why would anything eat them standing up?
The barn doors slide shut, two of the riders galloping our way with bow in hand but no arrow nocked—their quivers are full, so it isn't lack of option. Chandelier slows and stops, her feet sinking into the mud enough for me to notice. Hmm, I'm not sure I like that.
"What brings ya out here? Don't cha know sun's 'bout ta set? You best git indoors right quick, miss."
"Here about your goblin problem." I fish out my Adventurer's Pendant and show it to him. "Anything you can tell me?"
"Candlemaker? Wut kinda name izzat?" Their horses slow, coming just close enough to not have to shout to be heard—and clearly showcasing literacy. "Bah. No business of mine, that ain't. What chu wanna know?"
"Numbers as near as you can guess. Location of nearby caves. And if you spotted tracks."
"Well…" The two men share a look, unsure what to make of me just now from what the nonplussed exchange. "I ken tell yehs. But I ain't takin' no 'sponsibility fer sending wamen after 'em, ya hear?"
I nod.
The speaker sighs. "'Bout two-odd dozens of 'em, I recon. I ain't know 'bout no caves, but trackin' 'em should be right simple." He points. "Sprung out the mud that way. Left same way they done came."
"I see." They burrow underground, do they? My thighs clench, Chandelier trots off in the direction the man pointed. "My thanks. We'll take it from here."
8-8
We make it to the hole in the ground they dug. It's not overly ambitions, reminding me more of a manhole leading into the sewers. What troubles me is the abundance of skid marks showing things they dragged down there, how rounded the edges are from the callous disregard of cave-ins, and the dozens of tracks that came after. Either they make lots of trips, or there are more than the farmer knew to tell us.
The tunnel isn't too steep, but with the dying light it's hard to see too far into it. Dark Vision doesn't help with this much light about. None of my people are as trained in Blind Fighting as I'd like, and certainly haven't unlocked Dark Vision either. No, this is a solo job.
"I'm going in alone." I dismount. "Quick Travel back to the manor. Be prepared to be summoned at any time, but await my signal."
"I'm coming." Lyraynna dismounts, and Bry as well. "We can see in the dark."
"I can't see piss in the dark, but Hope would have me sleeping in the stable if I let you go without me." Archer dismounts, and Zaan quickly follows suit. "Besides. We've been sewers crawling for weeks."
Ginad nods, dismounting as well. "My hounds are ready and willing, Mistress."
"Unn." Tayrend and Grin dismount just the same. "Too small for our fowls, but we'll fit just fine."
"I'm not leaving you." Even Deela, unused to combat as she is, dismounts and takes her filolial's reins.
What did I expect? "Let's move."
8-8
X-X
Skill Mastery Level Up: Dark Vision—Level 6
X-X
It's been hours and hours. Ginad and his hounds guide us through this strange subterranean maze, sniffing every side way and checking for any sign of where the goblins should be.
We've encountered nothing down here but stretch after stretch of empty tunnel. Curiously, the mud tunnels ended almost as soon as they began—this is all carved out rock. With each level up, range and clarity improve; with the total and utter darkness here, levelling is simply easier, compared to the sewers.
We trek on. Arrows nocked, but not drawn. Weapons in hand and ready for action. Not as silent as I'd like, with our panting hounds, but given how many wrong turns I'd have taken solo? No, this is the best I could have hoped for.
Cleaning spell is cast every five minutes, to leave no trace of us, save unavoidably footprints in loose, dry dirt that lines the cave floor.
Up ahead, on the right of the corridor. The first sign of life. A totem, of sorts. Bovine skull, by the look of it, mounted on a stick, on both sides of another offshoot path. Curious, the hounds take a left, down a different path, only to stop dead in their tracks.
Ginad raises a balled fist and stops dead. Yeah. We're here.
I walk up, patting Ginad's shoulder as I pass him, and peer deeper into the corridor. Tracks, heavy traffic from the looks of it. Things were dragged down this way, not the marked path the goblins want us to take. Screams echo, muted by the distance but decidedly female.
I dash ahead in a dead sprint, leaving the others behind, fans open and shadows pooling around my feet.
A silhouette in the distance, outside Dark Vision's range. A spearman, short—seemingly deformed head. Shadow tendrils lash out. As I approach, the grey-scale visage of a goblin ensnared by my Shadow Hand comes into focus. It struggles against its binds, trying to choke out a warning. Its throat snaps under tendril's loving touch, struggling no more. Will claim the corpse later—it drops, unceremonious but silent just the same, and I continue without breaking stride.
More and more sentries. Each of the same height, each bearing a spear or cudgel—and each has a crushed windpipe and snapped neck before they get off a warning.
No more side tunnels down here, just a dizzying winding corridor that makes hiding all too easy—if we'd carried torches of any sort, they'd have seen our approach long before we spotted them. Smart, but not nearly enough to save them.
Corridor widens into a proper cavern. Dozens of mini-humanoids lounge about, sharpening crude and crooked daggers and filling their quivers. They look up, spotting me but offering me no more than a curious glance before getting back to their ministrations. They're used to working with my kind?
Shadowy tendrils writhe, split, and shoot out, ensnaring them all in one go—a staccato of neck-cracks, monsters fall limp, twitching their last.
Still not breaking stride, I dash down the cavern to another Y-crossing. The screams, louder and pained and borne of a terror so absolute I can scarcely comprehend what they suffer just now, assaulting me from the right.
I take my first step down that corridor, and the screams ease. Dialled back to wet, gurgling sounds.
Then…
Silence.
I speed up, wrath roiling within me. Corridor takes sharp turns, almost looping back.
A bovine stands there, bleeding out as tiny goblinoids tear into it—a gaping hole in its gut, filled with yet more of the monsters.
Shadowy tendrils snap out, tearing through the monsters' eyes and ears, killing them instantly. To be sure, a sole tendril pierces the bovine's eyes as well—no XP comes.
Deeper into the steadily widening cavern, I find more and more of the same. Corpses still bleeding from holes in their gut—goats, bovines, Demi-Humans, Beastmen, Humans. All women, near as I can tell with how ravaged they are. More and more of those tiny goblinoids, most no bigger than my balled fist, though growing quickly as they Devour who I can only assume is their mother.
Tendrils strike out, writhing as wrathful as my trembling hands. In short order the monsters are pincushioned and torn asunder.
There's nothing left worth finding here, no matter how desperate my eyes are to prove otherwise. Just bleeding corpses that haven't yet lost the warmth they had in life.
I turn and walk back the way I came, back to the first cavern just as my party start to organize the monsters for me. Lyraynna takes one look at me, tears welling up in her eyes.
I storm down the other path, trembling with a maelstrom of emotion I've never felt. Whispered words assault what's left of my humanity, attempting to rob me of even that.
"Please. Please no." A woman, breathing, exhausted, pained.
"Funny. When I told you the same thing, you turned me away." A clapping sound, followed by silence. Human or Demi-Human, I dare not guess. "Now you're mine. And you're never getting away from me. Not as long as you live."
Entering the next cavern, lower than the others, I find cells as if a prison, outfitted with beds and buckets reeking of human waste. To either side of me are two ogre-sized things leaning against the wall with weapons they'll not be using. My shadows rip into them—all they can manage is gurgling as their perforated lungs fill with their life essence, before limbs are ripped from their torsos and their skulls collapse under my touch.
X-X
New Skill Unlocked: Abyssal Slaughter
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Skill Mastery Level Up: Abyssal Slaughter—Level 2
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Skill Mastery Level Up: Abyssal Slaughter—Level 3
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Skill Mastery Level Up: Abyssal Slaughter—Level 4
X-X
I don't stop, my feet won't let me. Approaching the rack upon which a woman, a girl, is bound, horizontal. Her hands chained above her head, her thighs held wide by the provisionally warm corpse forcing himself on her as he humps away like some animal in heat.
"How do you like me now? Now that you're going to give me lots and lots of ba—"
Funny how he can't finish the word, now that my shadow constricts his throat and hoists him up off of her, slamming him into cavern's ceiling.
The girl curls op best she can, hiding her secrets he so callously violated. Too scared to even scream, but not so much to not protect herself if she can.
I look around. None bear arms—all women, curled up in their prison beds, their bellies swollen with child, each at a different stage of their pregnancy, each too dead inside to even react to another suffering their under accursed fates.
Shadow slams him, face first, in the cavern floor, but not hard enough to knock him out. No, he will be lucid for what comes next.
"Bry!" The single syllable echoes, reverberating off every surface. Something stirs in the women around me, they recognize another woman's voice, if nothing else. "I need a light in here. Grin, locks in need of picking. And someone bring me a spear and one of the male hounds."
Panting, my adorable little accomplice comes. I lean in, easing tendril's grip just enough so he can gasp and scream at long last. He tries to struggle against me—not nearly enough to break free.
"Welcome to hell. Feel free to not enjoy your stay."
The ragdoll slams into the ceiling again, enough to tenderize every muscle in his body, but not enough to risk him passing out—if anything, the constant battering should keep him well awake. Given he still struggles, I'm not wrong.
One of my tendrils snaps the girl's chains. The second she notices, she flees towards an empty corner, hands covering her exposed bosom and crotch best she can before she curls up into a ball to make herself as small as possible.
Light comes, audible footfalls accompanying it. Slowly, colour bleeds into my vision. It's with a twisted sense of vindication I slam my little fuck-doll onto the rack, face down and arse up while my shadow tendrils hold him there, arms bent back so far I'm amazed they don't snap off.
"What…the fuck are you?" He still thinks he can demand things? Oh, honey. You're not in charge any more.
"You enjoy rape. Right?"
My two-headed hound comes right to the soon-to-be lover, slobbering his face with wet kisses.
The abject horror in his scream as his addled brain works out what awaits, it brings a special smile to my face.
8-8
We approach the chapel as the first rays of dawn light up the sky. A humble little building standing one storey tall amongst the giants around it. Pearl white walls, flat roof, with a tower holding the church bell just ringing to announce morning has broken.
The women ride our filolials as we walk them, nice and slow to cause the least possible distress. We barely get within knocking distance before the door creeks open.
"Good morning, my children." An elderly woman with a warm smile and a gentle gaze welcomes us. "Is there something I can…?" Her brown eyes take in the clearly pregnant women with their hollow stares as my men help them to dismount as gently as possible. "Come, inside."
The Prioress ushers us inside, calling out for more and more nuns to come to our aid. Each wears simple black robes and habits, so unlike the others in this city, with a simple brass circle amulet bobbing about as they bustle.
We're guided deep into the chapel, to a side door.
"Please." The Prioress holds up her hand to stall us, even as her nuns nudge the women into the room. "Entrust them to us."
"You will contact me once they've been tended to." I hold out my Adventurer's Pendant.
The Prioress nods and follows the others into the room, closing the door behind her. "It's alright. You're safe now. No one will hurt you ever again, I swear by the God of Light."
I heave a sigh as I turn to the entrance.
8-8
Job notice slips onto the front desk. The two Clerks share a look, eyes drawn and hollow.
"Next time. Contact me the second the notice comes in."
"Did," Sechen swallows, hard, "they…?"
"I brought the survivors to the chapel near North Gate. Their Prioress should send word." Without another word, I turn and leave. And who should I run into the second I exit the Guild Hall?
"Lady Candlemaker." Malar nods to me from his saddle, his horse complaining about something and turning heel. "Father received word. The other kings wish to meet with you."
"If I come now, those men will not enjoy my company."
Malar shakes his head, eyes narrowed as he jerks back.
"I just came from a goblin cave."
Malar flinches, looking like he bit into something sour. "I…appreciate your honesty. Please. Please, rest for today. I will explain the situation in your stead."
"My thanks, Prince Malar." I curtsey, mount up, and Quick Travel back to the manor.
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End Chapter Twenty-Five
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A/N: I don't want to give this a Goblin Slayer feel, but I may or may not have been watching that series lately.