The demon's lair was eerily silent after Kalthor's fall, the chamber's glowing runes dimmed, and the stench of charred ogre flesh hung heavy in the air.
Leon's body ached, his muscles screaming from the fight, but the adrenaline of their victory—and the weight of Terya's worsening curse—kept him moving.
Her coughs had grown weaker, her blonde hair matted with sweat, the web-like curse on her cheek pulsing like a dying star.
Saria led the party deeper into the cave, her black ponytail swaying, her face a stoic mask despite the faint burn mark on her side.
Tila and Boren followed, their weapons bloodied but ready, while Leon clutched his satchel, the Crimson Thorn's glow muffled inside.
The tunnels twisted, the glowing fungi casting sickly light on jagged walls.
Saria's fiery aura flickered, guiding them through the dark, until a low growl echoed from a side passage.
"There," she said, her voice flat but sharp, her sword drawn.
The party crept forward, and Leon's breath caught as they spotted it—a red-scaled kobold, smaller than the others but radiating a cursed aura, its eyes glowing with the same dark energy as Terya's mark.
It snarled, claws scraping the stone, and Leon's stomach twisted.
"That's the one," Terya rasped, leaning against the wall, her green eyes dull but defiant. "Get it, rookie."
Leon's hands shook as he drew the dagger from his belt, its nicked blade glinting in the fungi's light.
The memory of the goblin's death—the sickening squelch, the inky essence—flashed through him, but he squared his shoulders, his confidence bolstered by the ogre fight.
I've got this, he thought, though his voice trembled as he said, "Okay, uh, here goes."
Saria nodded, her eyes flicking to him with silent expectation.
Tila and Boren stood ready, but the kobold's focus was on Leon, its growl deepening.
It lunged, claws outstretched, and Leon dodged, his sneakers slipping on the slick floor.
He slashed with the dagger, the blade catching the kobold's arm, drawing a thin line of blood.
The creature screeched, and Leon's heart raced, his grip tightening.
He lunged again, driving the dagger into its chest, the blade sinking deep.
The kobold convulsed, its cursed aura flaring, and a cold, inky essence surged into Leon's arm, making his skin crawl.
It collapsed, lifeless, and he stumbled back, panting.
"Holy… crap," he gasped, his hands trembling but his chest swelling with pride. "Gross"
Saria sheathed her sword, her eyes on Terya, who was slumped against the wall, her breathing shallow. "The ritual," she said, her tone firm.
"We need a quiet chamber. Tila, Boren, scout ahead. Make sure we're not disturbed."
Tila nodded, her enthusiasm undimmed, and Boren grumbled but followed, their footsteps fading into the tunnel.
Leon's heart skipped, the vision of the third altar—Terya's backside—flooding his mind.
This is happening, he thought, his face flushing with a mix of nerves and arousal.
He glanced at Terya, her smirk weak but present, and Saria, whose blank stare offered no comfort.
They found a small chamber off the main tunnel, its walls smooth and free of fungi, the air cooler but still heavy with sulfur.
Terya leaned against a stalagmite, her strength fading, the curse's pulse erratic.
Saria helped her to the center, where a flat stone served as a makeshift bed.
"Eat the Crimson Thorn," Saria said, her voice instructional, handing Leon the satchel.
Leon pulled out the fruit, its red glow bright in the dim chamber.
He bit into it, the tart juice bursting on his tongue, like cherries mixed with a sharp, electric tang. It tingled down his throat, warming his chest, and he devoured it, wiping juice from his chin.
"Okay," he said, his voice shaky. "That's… step one, right?"
Saria nodded, her face unreadable. "The third altar—Terya's backside—means anal administration. You'll need to… apply the cure there." Her tone was clinical, but a faint flush colored her cheeks, betraying her discomfort.
Leon's jaw dropped, his face burning hotter than Saria's fireballs.
"Apply? Like… you mean…there?" He trailed off, his eyes darting to Terya, who managed a hoarse chuckle despite her pain.
"Get on with it, rookie," Terya said, her voice weak but teasing. , "Fast."
She eased onto the stone, lying on her stomach, and hooked her thumbs into her leather pants, sliding them down to reveal her toned, smooth backside.
The curve of her hips and the flawless skin made Leon's breath catch, his arousal spiking despite his nerves.
The curse's dark tendrils snaked faintly across her lower back, a grim reminder of the stakes.
Leon's hands trembled, his heart pounding as he stepped closer.
"Uh… okay, I can do this," he muttered, his voice a nervous squeak. He glanced at Saria, hoping for guidance, and she sighed, her stoic facade cracking with exasperation.
"You need help," Saria said, her tone flat but firm.
She knelt beside Terya, her hands moving with practiced ease.
"Relax, Terya," she murmured, her fingers brushing Terya's skin, coaxing her to loosen.
Saria's touch was gentle but eager, her hands spreading a thin layer of holy water from the crystal bottle across Terya's backside, the shimmering liquid glistening in the dim light.
The water made Terya's skin slick, easing the tension in her muscles, and she let out a soft sigh, her body softening.
Saria's eyes flicked to Leon, her expression unyielding.
"You need to be ready," she said, her voice low.
She reached for him, her fingers deftly unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to free his already hard cock.