Chapter Twenty-One
Halia Vorbia had always known she wanted to be a fighter. To be one of the brave adventurers who went out and fought the dungeon builders. She had grown up hearing about her father. He had killed two dungeon builders before vanishing in the labyrinth of the most feared one of them all.
The Black Flame of Nyias. The Razer of Kelias
She had grown up in Astovin, training every day. While other girls were learning to sew or cook, she was swinging a wooden sword, a memento from her father. He had carved it the day she was born, certain she would be as strong as him.
She wished she knew her father.
She had explored through Mthunzi's Dark Dungeon, killing many of his wildhounds before being driven out. She wanted to kill him, but he had died before she could. But she had gained experience in his dungeon. Grown stronger.
Found her sword.
A blessed blade, enchanted with magic to be unbreakable, to cut through normal weapons. She teamed up with Norso, a rogue, and Milies, a priest of Sherida, Goddess of Light. Together, they had tracked down the newest dungeon that had appeared near Astovin.
And found it deserted. No enemies, just trapped.
It baffled her. Walking through the dark corridors, searching, exploring, looking for the dungeon builder. For any sign that he was here. She started to fear that he had already died. That they were wasting time.
Then they met him and... and...
Halia groaned awake. She ached everywhere. Her joints ground together. Her face contorted against the pain. She groaned, chains rattling. She blinked as she opened her eyes and felt metal around her wrists. Her arms were thrust over her head. Her feet were held apart. A stone wall was against her back.
"She's coming awake, big bro," a sensual yet girlish voice purred. "Ooh, ooh, she's got such big boobies. You should have stripped her naked."
"What?" a man gasped. "That's going too far. She's manacled. Not a threat. She can keep her armor. It's not like we're going to fight again."
What happened?
Halia thought. She blinked, her vision still blurry. It was dark in the room.
I was fighting with the fomorian when... when...
"No, no, strip her naked so we can see her tits!" the girlish voice said.
"She deserves to have her modesty," another female voice said.
"I agree with Usiku," a third woman added. She had a melodic voice. "She's our prisoner, not some sex slave."
"Ooh, that would be fun," the first girl said. "Kweh, heh, heh, you could tie me up, big bro, and ravish me. Or you could have fun with her and those big tits."
"Usiku and the will o' wisps have all the big tits I need," the man said.
That voice...
thought Halia.
That's the dungeon builder's voice. The dark king who rules here. He's captured me!
Panic surged through Halia. She bucked against the chains, her breasts heaving in her armor. The iron links rattled above her. They clinked with the strength to hold her. The surge of fearful energy washed away the last of the fuzziness from her thoughts. Her vision sharpened on the four figures in the room.
The dungeon builder stood in the middle of the monster girls. He wore a robe of gray, trying to pass himself off as a mage, and he was young. Nineteen or so. Her own age. He had black hair and dark eyes. They considered her with malevolence. She could feel his foul designs spilling over her body.
The three monster girls were all different. The fomorian had her arms folded beneath her breasts and stood off to the side. Dark-purple skin and blue hair. The shadows seemed to drip from her fingers, capable of forming a weapon at a moment's notice. The next was an older woman, late twenties, but gorgeous. Her skin was silver bright and her hair gold. Lightning flickered between the strands while wings of electricity rose behind her. A lightning sprite.
"It'll be fun to strip her naked and play with her breasts, big bro!" the succubus said.
She was petite and had a playfulness that spilled across her wicked face. Black hair, gathered in two pigtails, trailed down around her face. Dark horns peeked out. A devil's tail swished behind her, leathery wings flapping. She wore thigh-high boots and nothing else.
"No," he said. "Jesus, Garnet, we're not going to molest her."
The succubus puffed out her cheeks with a look of annoyance. "Fine. Fine. She's just sexy. Ooh, but she's angry."
"You're awake," the dungeon builder said, sounding relieved. Halia knew it for the lie. "Good, good. I just want to talk."
"Talk?" she hissed. "Just get it over with!"
His brow furrowed. "Get what over with?"
"The torture!" Halia lifted her head in defiance. "You will learn no secrets from me."
The dungeon builder groaned. "We're not going to torture you."
"Or, apparently, play with your big boobies," muttered the succubus.
"Definitely not that," he said. He stepped forward, putting on a friendly smile. "I'm Leo. Leo Baldwin. You are, well..."
"Your prisoner!"
He flinched. "Well, you tried to stab me." He gave her a helpless look. "I just wanted to talk. To figure out why you and your friend were attacking me."
"Because you're
evil!"
The rage burst through Halia. The fury. Her arms shook the chains. "You're foul and loathsome. Disgusting!"
"I'm evil?" He looked shocked. "Me? I've never done anything aggressive. I've only defended my dungeon."
"You're around monsters! A foul and whorish succubus who preys on men's souls. She devours their eternal essence and condemns them to suffer!"
