Villain Ch 1901. Move Along, Peasants!
They stepped through the portal like a group of freshly exorcised corpses pretending to be adventurers again.
The blue light faded behind them with a soft chime, but the weight? The curse? That still clung to the back of their minds like smoke in their clothes.
They were back.
Back to the Cursed Crypts.
They needed potions.
And to breathe.
And maybe—just maybe—make sure they weren't still stuck in that cursed loop. That it was Elise and Greg, not them, who got tethered to that horror show of repeating despair and ghost bridal trauma.
So yeah. Retail therapy. Dungeon-style.
"Health pots. Mana pots. Sanity pots. All the damn pots," Bella muttered, tugging her cloak tighter over her shoulders. Her disguise spell still held—warrior, basic armor, even a chipped longsword on her back to sell the look. "Because if I dream about bloody veils one more time, I'm setting this whole map on fire."
