Witch Monastery

Sephera raised an eyebrow, then bit her lower lip as she stared at Ruth with visible jealousy.

Hattie opened her mouth to speak, but after careful consideration, she nodded in agreement since this seemed the optimal choice. Still, she offered her suggestion: "Indeed. However, Ruth only excels in battle. Shouldn't we have someone else for assistance?"

She implied she should go, but Charles turned his gaze to Andny instead: "Can you control the worms in Rubble District?"

Andny shook her head repeatedly, her expression ashamed: "Forgive me, Master. My power is too weak. I need time to establish roots in an area before controlling its worms freely."

Charles sighed softly: "Very well. Andny should remain here then."

Ekta looked eager: "Master, my power has grown stronger! I can cast fireballs now! Perhaps I could accompany you—"

Charles shook his head: "No. You might burn down the mountains and make us public enemies. Not this time, Ekta. Next time, I promise!"

Ekta retreated, frustration plain on her face.

Then Sephera's brow twitched: "Master... what if I joined you?"

The coven's collective intake of breath was audible. Hattie's frown deepened: "You? Sephera, if you're absent when Theresa grows suspicious-"

Sephera waved a dismissive hand: "We settled this last night, no? Blame Chaos Energy corruption for her misjudgment. If all four of you maintain this, she'll doubt herself before suspecting us!" A wicked grin flashed. "Whereas if I stay, I'd naturally contradict you all - sowing discord as is my habit. That would truly ruin everything."

She leaned forward, eyes gleaming: "Better still - suppose I tell Theresa myself that Ruth and I plan to visit Rubble District? Have her divine whether our journey will succeed. Far less suspicious than vanishing for days, no?"

Her burning gaze found Charles: "What thinks our Master?"

The witches' protests rose again - until all eyes turned to Charles. He weighed their mission: potential enemies, the value of "Toxic Mist" as a weapon... At last, he nodded. "Very well. Sephera - inform Theresa upon her return. Then you'll accompany Ruth and me."

The Sephera's face lit with triumph: "Yes!"

...

Several days later, the Rubble District.

Scarred by the fires of war waged by various factions, the Rubble District remained largely unreconstructed. Most areas still lay in ruins, save for a few fragile wooden shacks erected near the borders of other districts, forming small, makeshift markets where adventurers and mercenaries gathered to trade before or after their ventures into the mountains.

It was autumn, and the mountain prey had grown plump. The Mountain Peoples, too, were stockpiling food for winter, ensuring that conflicts between rival factions would only grow bloodier.

Yet the more violent the season, the greater the opportunities for adventurers and hired mercenaries to strike it rich in the Rubble District—and the greater the fortunes to be made by those shrewd enough to exploit their greed.

Thus, the cramped markets buzzed with activity, a den of schemers, swindlers, and dreamers all vying for advantage.

Among them was Ymik, a cunning and vicious goblin standing just over a meter tall, with yellow-green skin, a long, pointed nose, and jagged, needle-like teeth.

Unlike most of his kind, Ymik was clever enough to recognize opportunity early. He had purchased a few donkeys, offering transport to starry-eyed adventurers along the safer routes between the Rubble District's surviving markets and the mountain camps.

The work was grueling, but a single successful trip guaranteed him comfort for days.

And if he happened upon particularly promising prey—young, wealthy-looking adventurers with all the inexperience written on their faces—his profits soared even higher.

Today, fortune smiled upon him.

His beady eyes locked onto a trio weaving through the crowd: a boy and two women. The boy was clearly of Silver Kin blood, fair-faced and delicate, no older than sixteen.

The shorter woman was soft-skinned and icy in demeanor, the kind who spoke little and kept to herself.

The taller one, though her sharp eyes and lips suggested a cutting tongue, was still just a slender woman. How much trouble could she be?

Their pristine leather armor, clearly fresh from the shop, marked them as greenhorns—some noble's spoiled children, no doubt, who'd bought shiny swords and armor after hearing too many tavern tales.

Perfect.

The thought made saliva pool in his mouth. Wiping the corners of his lips with the back of his hand, he whispered quick instructions to his assistant, sending him running with a message. Then, plastering on an ingratiating smile, the goblin came trotting toward the trio, calling out while still at a distance:

"Good sir! And fair ladies! Are you heading to the adventurer camps in the mountains?"

"Ah, but the journey is long and the paths treacherous! Why waste your precious stamina on such travel? Why not ride my donkey carts? A bargain at just one gold per person - and I guarantee we'll arrive before sunset!"

He thumped his chest confidently, though his price was hardly cheap. Three gold total for the group amounted to a skilled craftsman's earnings for a day and a half.

The approaching trio were, of course, Charles, Ruth and Sephera. After purchasing equipment and necessary adventure supplies, they'd spent the entire morning changing carriages and enduring rough travel before finally reaching the Rubble District in the afternoon.

Yet this only brought them to the district's nominal borders - the true adventure sites in the mountains still lay some distance away.

They were currently seeking passage into the mountains. When the ugly goblin came bounding up with exaggerated enthusiasm, Ruth frowned slightly. Her past experience told her this fellow meant no good, and she already felt stirrings of lethal intent.

Sephera arched an eyebrow, about to refuse, when Charles instead put on a smile and said: "Certainly, old sir. Though might you lower the price? You see we're beginners - most of our coin went to equipment. Would two gold be acceptable?"

No money?

No matter. The three of them were the most valuable cargo of this trip!

Ymik sneered inwardly as he gazed at Ruth's delicate features and Sephera's slender waist. Heat rose in his chest, saliva pooling uncontrollably in his mouth. He could barely restrain himself from taking these two beauties right here and now.

Yet on the surface, he forced a pained expression and sighed dramatically.

"Fine, since you're just youngsters, Uncle Ymik will cut you a deal. Two gold? Two gold it is!"

"Come on, get in!"

With that, he waved Charles and the two witches toward his donkey cart. Charles smiled politely, guiding the women aboard while the rest of the camp watched them with pity.

Every soul here knew exactly why the old bastard Ymik was being so generous.

Yet not a single one stepped forward to warn them.

And so, the trio climbed into the small cart pulled by two donkeys. The wooden planks sealing the interior were crude, the space cramped—just two rows of seating for six—but it was clean. At least the goblin took decent care of his money-making tools.

Once they settled in, Ymik urged the cart forward. As it creaked into motion, Sephera leaned close to Charles' ear and whispered,

"Master, that old goblin is clearly up to no good. Why agree to ride with him?"

"Or… should we strike first? Take him out before he makes his move?"

Ruth's gaze flicked over, equally confused. Even she could see Ymik's vile intentions—there was no way Charles missed them.

Charles exhaled softly.

"Honestly? I'd be worried if he wasn't plotting something."

"The one we're after is a cunning hobgoblin warlord. But we don't know his exact location, so we'll have to gather information from locals."

He spoke truthfully—after all, the game's maps were overly simplified. Many areas just... well, the screen would fade to black, and suddenly you'd find yourself in a dungeon.

"Among all the locals, goblins have the best intelligence networks. They're flexible, shrewd, and willing to serve anyone while trading secrets among themselves for profit," Charles continued. "So if we capture a goblin boss and... persuade him to talk, we'll likely get our intel for free. Much simpler and cheaper than posting notices at the Adventurer Camp."

Sephera suddenly understood. "So that's it. As expected of Master—your planning is thorough."

Ruth nodded slightly in agreement. Then, without ceremony, Charles lay down in the cramped cart, resting his head on Ruth's thighs.

"Alright, this trip has worn me out. I'll take a quick nap to recover some stamina."

Aside from a brief lunch break, they'd spent the entire morning either riding shaky trams, waiting at stops, or rushing to catch the next one. He was completely exhausted.

"Mmm." Ruth responded softly. "Sleep. We'll wake you when we arrive."

Charles closed his eyes, silently chanting incantations to cast extended Armor of Agathys and False Life (both 2nd-level spells) before finally relaxing his mind, breathing evenly to restore his magic power.

Sephera sat opposite him, her delicate fingertips gently brushing through his hair as she tidied it for him.

Up front, Ymik glanced back and nearly choked on his jealousy. That damned boy! How dare he enjoy such attentive service from two beautiful women at once! The injustice burned in his gut!

Just wait, boy, I will let my brothers rape your two girls in front of you!

The sun had shifted southward—a full hour had passed as Ymik's donkey cart climbed the mountain trail.

Even in autumn, the enclosed cart grew uncomfortably warm under the midday sun. Charles removed his leather armor, keeping only his undershirt on as he continued resting on Ruth's lap. Sephera fanned him diligently, her care utterly meticulous.

Just then, Ymik chuckled from the driver's seat. "We're in the mountains now. Plenty of shade—it'll cool down soon."

"Youngsters must be thirsty, eh? Heh, adventuring in these mountains means enduring hardships! Heat, cold—you'll suffer it all!"

He spoke like a kindly elder, retrieving a large waterskin and small cup from beside him. After pouring himself a drink, he passed the waterskin back. "Here—mountain spring water. Don't drink too much at once though, or you'll get stomachaches."

He demonstrated by draining his cup in one gulp.

"Thank you, old sir." Charles accepted the waterskin, pouring some into his own cup. "Ruth, Sephera, want any?"

Ruth declined with a wave, but Sephera's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Mmm, I'll have some."

Charles handed her a cup. The moment she swallowed the chilled water, she suddenly kissed him, slipping her forked tongue between his lips to share the cool liquid.

"Woo..." Charles moaned involuntarily as her slender tongue entangled with his, but he didn't resist, swallowing every transferred drop.

Ruth's eyes widened—she couldn't believe Sephera would dare such an intimate act right before that scheming goblin! A sour jealousy prickled her heart.

Up front, the old goblin peeked back to check if they'd drunk from the sleeping-pill-laced waterskin—only to see the two locked in a deep, water-sharing kiss!

Flames of rage practically shot from his eyes!

Damn it! DAMN IT ALL!

That wretched boy! How dare he make such beauties service him so shamelessly! I'll make you pay! I'LL MAKE YOU PAY!

Filthy! Disgusting! No shame at all!

Just wait until my brothers catch you! We'll teach you disgraceful humans a proper lesson!

We must play with these two Beauties of yours right in front of you until your eyes roll back and your tongue sticks out, so that you will know what the ultimate shame is for a man!

You'll pay! YOU'LL PAY!

Consumed by jealousy, Ymik's face twisted grotesquely. But for now, he could only endure, lashing the donkey violently with his whip. "Move!"

The startled donkey quickened its pace.

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