Asura stepped into the sanctuary just as Wain peeled off to grab his bag. There he felt an immense gaze weighing down on him from a distance. He tried to avoid its grasp, but Mel's sharp glare was fixed on him. Not wanting to stir up trouble, Asura swiftly diverted his eyes, casually whistling as he scanned the room.
They drifted to Ash, who sat alone in a pew across the room. The human's posture was rigid, his body taut with frustration. Lost in his thoughts, Ash muttered quietly to himself, visibly grappling with the weight of his mistakes from the fight.
Ash's expression struck Asura in an unexpected way. It reminded him of an old friend from his past. Like his friend, Ash's face was clouded with frustrated calculations as if he were repeatedly replaying each move from their battle in his mind. The furrowed brows and deep sighs told the story without words. Ash rubbed his face roughly, each solution he thought of only leading to another dead end.
Asura could not quite make out the mumbling, but he could not help but imagine it was something along the lines of, "Asura is so cool, awesome, and muscular. How amazing is Asura!" He snorted at the thought as he pondered the truth. Ash was not a terrible fighter, even if admitting it grated on him. His swordsmanship was sharp, precise, and surprisingly refined. Each strike flowed seamlessly into the next, leaving little room for counterattacks. It was a style Asura was not used to, one that made their encounters all the more challenging to navigate.
If the human possessed the same raw strength as Asura, perhaps he would have stood a better chance. But even then, Ash lacked the experience to truly tip the scales in his favor. Asura had faced countless foes far stronger than humans. Yet, in each of those battles, the ogre had triumphed, his wisdom and battle-hardened instinct always prevailing over sheer power.
Though Asura often played the fool, his sharp eyes missed nothing. He observed Ash with the same focused intensity a tiger gives to its prey. With every movement, every subtle shift of the body, each breath taken, the flicker of an eye, and even the faintest thrum of a heartbeat, nothing escaped Asura's watchful gaze.
What struck him most, however, was Ash's posture. Despite the brutal fight they had just endured, there was no sign of it on him. His body had healed at an astonishing rate, his limbs no longer stiff or aching, his face free from any trace of pain. With an ease that surprised even Asura, Ash stood tall, without a limp or groan, and moved toward Mel as if nothing had happened.
"I swear on everything that the Archangel Hephestine has made, if you do anything, Asura," Mel's voice was low, but the venom in it left him shivering, "I am going to lose it. I will make sure that you—"
She stabbed a finger toward him, her eyes burning with intensity. "—Never! EVER! Get to eat food here again. Understand?"
Asura raised an eyebrow, his expression playful. "How would you do that?"
Without missing a beat, Mel's glare intensified, her voice seething with determination. "I will shoot it out of your hands every time you lift something to your mouth." Her eyes were wide with unwavering certainty. "Like that story about the king who raises food to his lips and shrivels up as it gets near. You won't taste food again as long as I live."
"If I can't kill you, I'll make you wish you were dead." She stopped, but her gaze remained fixed.
"Alright, understood." Asura pursed his lips, nodding ever so slightly. "No messing around. I will be good. A good ogre, a good boy. A refined young ogre, you might say. An esteemed gentleman, an ogre of courtesy."
"Shut up," Mel snapped, her voice sharp. "We both know you're going to do something. Just make sure it's at the lowest possible standard of idiocy you can manage."
"Can do," Asura responded with exaggerated enthusiasm. Mel motioned toward the door, signaling for everyone to leave. Her eyes stayed fixed on him momentarily as if waiting for him to make a move. "Wait, what about Wain?" Asura asked, watching her stride toward the cathedral's front doors. "We'll wait for him outside," she replied curtly, her gaze demanding he exit first.
Before each member began to depart, something caught Asura's attention. Unlike the previous outfits worn by the priests, each of them now sported distinctly different attire. Mel stood out with a heavy black vest adorned with multiple slots and pockets, each filled with tools, multicolored vials, and various other utility items. Beneath the vest, she wore a dainty pink T-shirt featuring a cartoon feline character, and her pants were a black-and-gray camouflage pattern, so cluttered with pockets they seemed impractical.
"Damn, even Ash is geared up," Asura muttered under his breath. The human wore a black jacket over his glaringly yellow shirt, with a few knives strapped across the front. Colorful vials lined the right side of his chest, mirroring Mel's setup. Asura furrowed his brow. "What's up with the weird bottles?"
Mel did not spare him a glance, her voice flat and uninterested. "Something only priests need to know about."
"Ain't I a priest thingy now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Nope, not by my standards. You're still a monster, whether you're on the team or not." She flicked a vial resting against her breast. "Let's just call them our trump card if you act out of line. If we throw one, move out of the way. Unless you're the target, then... well, stand still."
Asura frowned, not enjoying the passive-aggressive tone in her voice. Muttering to himself, he mocked, Well, I didn't want to know anyway. Probably lame. Not like it would hurt me. You guys can't even scratch me. Lame-ass losers. Only losers use cool vials. Just as he finished, Wain entered the room, noticeably dressed in something entirely different from the rest. He wore a tan bucket hat, a stark contrast to the dark, utilitarian outfits of the others. Even his clothes, colored in earthy tones, stood in contrast to the midnight black that the others wore. Asura could not help but stare. The difference between Wain and the others was striking, almost absurd, but it was Wain's fitting style.
Like the others, Wain wore a jacket, but his stood out. Instead of the midnight black that adorned the others, his was a mossy, dark green. The jacket sat loosely over a light brown shirt, tucked beneath it and barely visible due to the bulky outerwear covered in an array of pockets. What is it with humans and pockets? Asura mused to himself. Strapped to Wain's back was his usual brown bag, coated in dirt, a sight that always made Asura smile strangely.
Everything in the human realm felt so meticulously ordered, so... clean. They adored their golden decor, their pristine surfaces, their perfect lives. And yet, amidst their obsession with flawlessness, there was Wain, covered in dirt. His hard work was evident in how he carried himself, never complaining, always appreciating even the most minor things. It was easy to see why the Archangels had allowed him into their gardens.
Though Wain stood out from the rest in appearance and demeanor, his gear was no less suited for the impending battle. Asura glanced at his attire, a sudden sadness creeping in. "You guys all look ready for war, and yet here I am... looking like a homeless bum with no shoes."
His muttering was ignored as the group moved out, preparing themselves for whatever chaos Asura had planned. The weight of uncertainty hung thick in the air. They needed to be ready for whatever the ogre had in store.
At last, the group stepped out of the cathedral. Asura inhaled deeply, savoring the cool night air. The sky above was a blanket of stars, the twinkling lights a quiet comfort. As much as he loved the dark, a longing for the sun crept into his mind. The heat of daylight, the warmth that would hit his skin, reminded him of times long past. But as soon as his mind started to drift, a sharp headache tugged at him, pulling him back into the present.
A sudden honk shattered the moment, yanking Asura out of his thoughts. Ahead of him, an expensive-looking luxury sedan sat, its lights flashing in the night. The car gleamed a dazzling red under the moonlight, reflecting the stars above, and for a moment, Asura could not help but feel like he had walked onto the set of some action movie. A bald man wearing shades at night would fit right in.
The sleek design was just like the cars in those endless commercials. Asura could not understand why humans always insisted on describing cars in bizarre ways in advertisements. It was one of the strange quirks of their world, but he could not deny that it intrigued him.
Mel jingled the keys excitedly in her hands, her wide smile practically glowing with anticipation. It was clear she could not wait to get behind the wheel, and that thought made Asura's stomach twist in uneasy knots. Does she not drive often? he wondered, the image of a clumsy driver swerving and crashing flickering in his mind. Is this going to turn into one of those comedy movies where everything goes wrong?
"Time to go. Everyone, get in," Mel called, her enthusiasm infectious but unsettling to Asura. He watched her for a moment longer, still trying to shake the feeling of impending disaster, before the question popped out of his mouth. "Wait, you're telling me you've got all these crazy powers, and you still need to drive places? You can't just teleport or run really fast?"
Mel shrugged and casually replied, "I mean, we could, but it'd be a waste of stamina. If there's a chance of a fight, we might as well save our strength. You never know what could happen." She eagerly patted the seat. "Now get in."
Asura sighed resignedly. The thought of being stuck in a car when he could easily be running free through the landscape felt a little absurd. But with no other choice, he climbed into the car, and the others followed suit. He aimed for the front seat, but as he settled in, he felt a tug on the back of his shirt. Before he could react, Ash yanked him out of the seat, his voice firm.
"Ha, no you don't. Demons sit in the back," Ash insisted as he jumped into the seat. Asura growled, but Mel shot him a glare that warned him not to stir up trouble. With another sigh, Asura shuffled to the back of the car, reluctantly taking a seat as the others piled in around him. He tried to push the thoughts of potential disaster from his mind, but a lingering unease remained as Mel started the engine, her childish smile never wavering.
"What bull crap, unconstituted discrimination, stupid reasoning, unwarranted hatred..." Asura grumbled as he laid beside Wain. "You are just saying words now..." Wain chuckled.
Wain sat quietly, glancing at Asura beside him, who continued to grumble under his breath. The childish tantrum had now stretched into two hours, and Wain had expected it to taper off by now. Instead, Asura's complaints seemed to grow with each passing minute, his irritation building to an almost impressive level. Are all ogres like this? Wain thought, a bemused frown tugging at his lips. This is entirely different from how the books describe them...
As the hours dragged on, Asura's boredom evolved from tapping the windows with growing intensity to kicking the back of Mel's seat, his irritation evident. "I could've sprinted there and back a hundred times by now," he groaned, his voice dripping with frustration. "This is so booooring. What's the point of cars? Useless, crappy transportation."
Wain, without turning his head, quietly replied, "It's been two hours, dude… You'll live." Asura slumped back into the seat, his defiance deflating slightly at the revelation. But his tantrum did not last much longer. As Mel pulled off the road next to a small building, a surge of excitement hit him. Like a puppy on a leash, he shot upright, eager to see what was next.
"Are we here now? Is this it?" His eyes darted around, scanning the area. "Wait… this ain't no strip club." A few gas pumps under a metal overhang surrounded the small building in front of them. It's a gas station, Asura thought, staring inside. Mel opened her door, her tone laced with annoyance as she responded, "Just the gas station. Apparently, we need gas before we get there." She sighed as she opened the door. "The captain forgot to refill."
Asura sighed exaggeratedly and threw himself back into the seat, crossing his arms in defiance. "This crap sucks," he muttered, slumping further. Then, after a beat, he shot Mel a hopeful look. "Can I get a snack from inside?" His eyes wide with desire.
Mel glanced at Asura through the glass, her eyes narrowing in thought. After a long pause, she sighed. It's worth it just to keep the overgrown baby occupied. Even if it meant giving in. Sometimes, you just had to let a child have their way to end the storm of complaints. I would be a terrible mother... Mel thought to herself, shaking her head. She reached into her back pocket, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to Asura while pointing toward the store.
"Go ahead. Just come back in five minutes." She smacked the back of the car. "Wain, go with him. Watch. Him."
Asura wasted no time, darting toward the store with Wain trailing behind, though he could not shake the feeling this was a bad idea. As they stepped inside, Asura's mind raced with thoughts of the sweet treats humans indulged in. He had seen them in countless movies, and the image of a chocolate bar danced vividly in his mind. The sweet scent of cocoa filled his memory, and he could almost taste it. The bitterness of it would coat his tongue, and the warmth would make it melt in his mouth, a pure delight for all ogre kind.
Excited, he bolted straight for the candy aisle, but as he entered, he came to a sudden stop. The woman behind the counter froze. Her eyes widened, and a look of terror spread across her face as she stared at the black-horned, four-armed monster standing at the center of the store. Asura, utterly unaware of the cause of her fear, smiled awkwardly and addressed her.
"So, uh... how's your day?" He asked as his head swiveled away. The woman hesitated, her fear twisting her features, and then, after a long pause, she answered in a small voice. "It's going pretty crappy."
Asura paused for a moment, scanning the store. What's she scared of? he wondered. There was nothing particularly intimidating in the store, no other monsters or strange occurrences. Puzzled, he turned back to the woman and asked, "And, uh, why's that?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. The woman remained frozen in place, and after a long, drawn-out moment, she answered in a near-whisper.
"I told my boss I pooped myself to get out of some work today…" Her eyes darted downward but her head was still. "and well, now I actually pooped myself..." The revelation hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Both Wain and Asura stood rooted to the spot, their faces reflecting the same horrified realization. The woman did not budge. Instead, she stood motionless, locked in a tense, unblinking stare at them. Her glassy eyes were uncomfortable, like those of a wax statue.
Asura shifted uncomfortably, slowly reaching for a drink and some candy, but every movement felt like it might provoke her. If I do something sudden, she might lunge at me, or... who knows? His mind raced, trying to avoid breaking the excruciating eye contact. Why doesn't she just move? he thought, growing more unsettled. People don't like monsters, sure, but come on... you pooped yourself. He cried out internally.
Wain, equally disturbed, quietly backed out of the store. Then, in a flash, Asura threw the money at the woman, desperate to end the awkward encounter as he sprinted with a might he never knew he could muster. The moment the door swung shut behind them, they broke into a fast-paced sprint back to the car, glancing over their shoulders as though the woman might chase them down like a ghost from a nightmare. They scrambled into the car, almost tripping over each other in their haste.
Mel, who had been watching them with confusion from behind the wheel, raised an eyebrow as she watched them struggling with the doors. She leaned down, looking through the window, and asked, "So, where's the change?" Asura, still shaken from the bizarre experience, muttered, "You don't want it."
As he slumped into his seat, a shudder ran through him. Mel stared at him, baffled. She opened her mouth to ask, but upon seeing his pale, ghostly expression, she hesitated. It was clear that whatever had happened in that store was not something he wanted to talk about. With a frustrated sigh, she decided to drop the topic and let the matter slide.
Asura sat there, his expression still haunted, as Mel filled the tank. The whole encounter felt like a blur, and he was glad to leave it behind. Once the gas tank was full, Mel climbed back into the car and pulled onto the road. Asura watched the store fade away in the rearview mirror, noting that the woman remained behind the cash register, unmoving, even after they left. It felt like a strange, surreal scene he could not shake from his mind.
"You humans are disturbing..." He whispered.
As they drove, no one dared to break the peaceful silence. They all watched as Asura quietly nibbled on his snack, looking every bit like a child savoring a treat. His small, innocent pleasure was enough to keep him calm, at least for now. The others exchanged cautious glances, careful not to disturb the peace. After all, no one wanted to agitate the happy child who was now swaying in his seat, blissfully sucking on his chocolate bar.
When they finally arrived at their destination, the group piled out of the car, and Asura immediately stretched his arms and legs, reveling in the freedom after being cooped up in the metal box. The rush of relief made his limbs shake a little as he savored the sensation. "What took us so long? Was this place on another continent?" Asura asked, his tone brimming with confusion.
"We live in a small town," Mel said flatly, her voice tinged with annoyance as if the question itself were a bother. "This is the closest one. You never specified which one we had to go to." Asura shrugged, unconcerned. "Doesn't need to be specific. Any of them will do." A grin spread across his face, and the rest of the group could not help but tense. Here it comes, they thought, collectively bracing themselves. How much worse could it get?
The ogre grinned as he gazed at the bright neon building before him. Its lights bathed the street in a vivid violet glow, and a large sign overhead boldly read, The Enchanted Symphony. While the exterior was surprisingly understated for a monster establishment, he knew well what awaited inside. Asura marched confidently up to the front door, hands clasped behind his back. But before he could enter, a bouncer, a tall, burly man with a bald head and a thick beard, stepped forward, his hand pressing firmly against Asura's chest.
"Look, kid," the bouncer said, eyeing him with a scowl. "I don't know what cosplay convention you're here for, but you're not getting in. I'm gonna need some ID if you want through." Asura's eyes narrowed. "Kid? I'm older than you, geezer."
Before he could take another step or escalate the situation, Mel acted quickly, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him back with a sigh. She straightened herself and addressed the bouncer, her tone unwavering. "Listen, you're going to let us in because we have a job to do. See this embroidery?" She pointed to the emblem on her jacket. "You know what that means, right? I'm from The Temple. Not just anyone can wear this." She tapped her pistol at her hip. "So, unless you want us to investigate this place thoroughly, I suggest you let us in. Otherwise, you might get a fine... and who knows what else."
The bouncer hesitated, his lips curling in a scoff, but his eyes flickered to the embroidered symbol of Judex Divinum on their jackets. It was a mark no one could fake without dire consequences. He'd seen enough to know it wasn't worth denying them entry. Doing so would only cause more problems. Still, the idea of letting this strange-looking kid inside left a bad taste in his mouth. With an irritated grunt, he stepped aside. "Go in," he muttered.
As the group passed, Asura's face slipped into a sly smile, the tension finally easing as they entered. Once inside, Asura immediately recognized the familiar décor. Unlike the chaotic, gritty human strip clubs, there was a certain refinement about this place, though, if you could call a strip club refined.
The atmosphere was different, tailored for a more sophisticated clientele. AS they walked through, they were met with the plush sensation of a deep red carpet beneath their feet, softening their footsteps and heightening the intimate ambiance throughout the room. The scent of polished mahogany hung in the air, its rich aroma blending seamlessly with the elegant furnishings that surrounded the polished wooden stage.
Each piece of furniture was carefully crafted, the dark wood radiating a warmth that complemented the soft, ambient lighting. The room exuded a sense of timeless luxury, inviting yet indulgent. On the stage, a dancer glided gracefully around the pole, her movements fluid and hypnotic, effortlessly capturing the attention
The space's lighting was soft and warm, casting everything in a warm orange hue. It was as though the place itself were meant to make you feel at home, cocooned in luxury. It was unlike anything the priests had ever encountered. The sweet fragrance in the air was subtle but intoxicating, like a hidden trap meant to cloud the mind and dull the senses.
A lullaby-like melody from a piano played in the corner, its soothing notes caressing the edges of their minds. The melody was captivating, its seductive charm drawing Mel's gaze toward the source. A piano? The harmonies were so soft, so inviting, she could almost feel the music wrap around her heart. For a moment, the pull was so strong it felt like she could surrender entirely to it. But with a shake of her head, she snapped herself back to reality, fighting the temptation.
Asura, amused by their struggle, chuckled. "Succubi have a way of making everything feel... irresistible," he remarked, his voice tinged with a knowing amusement. Mel cleared her throat, pulling herself together. "Focus up. We're here for a reason. Don't give in to the temptations. This is just the dem-" Before she could finish, Asura's hand shot up and quickly pressed against her mouth. His expression was serious, his unblinking, white eyes blazed.
"Do not... use that word here." The gravity in his tone made it clear this was no trivial matter. Mel, taken aback, nodded in silent acknowledgment. The women walking through the space wore luxurious lingerie in shades of red, purple, and blue that clung to their bodies, their curves accentuated by the fabric. Mel's face flushed, and the others quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of such overwhelming allure. Why am I... Mel's thoughts were cut short by Asura's voice.
"Whatever you've experienced with Succubi before, it's nothing like being in their domain," he said, his tone more serious than before. "We're in their house now. It's going to be worse than you expect." He clapped his hands quietly. "Say a prayer. You'll need Judex Divinum's will to get through this."
Asura, however, seemed unaffected. He moved through the space with a calm, practiced ease, his gaze sharp and unyielding, as though the temptations around him held no sway. Mel couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly he resisted. How does he do it? she wondered, amazed that the ogre seemed completely immune while they all struggled to keep their focus. "How come you aren't affected like us?" Mel asked, her voice tinged with confusion.
"You haven't even seen their real beauty yet," Asura replied coolly. "Just an illusion." The air around them hummed, and Asura's nostrils flared from an overwhelming scent of petrichor, quotidian mana swirling through the building. Beneath the Succubi's perfect illusions, he knew the real danger lay. Succubi thrived on the emotions they stirred in others, and lust and desire were their weapons. Every woman in this place, from the ones on stage to those lurking in the corners, was a Succubus.
"Every single woman here is a Succubi. Don't be racist, okay?" Asura said, turning to Mel. Mel glanced around, her unease growing as she realized they were surrounded. Although she had heard of these establishments, seeing one in person made the danger feel all the more real.
As they moved deeper into the building, the scent of quotidian mana grew more pungent, overpowering the intoxicating fragrance of the Succubi. There was someone here with immense power, a bank of bottomless mana. His face lit up with the thrill of potential conflict, his hands twitching with excitement.
Before he could wander off, Mel grabbed him by the shirt, her nose scrunched in disgust. "Pervert," she muttered, shaking her head. Asura blinked in confusion as she punched him lightly on the top of the head, her eyes narrowing.
"Who do we need to talk to? And don't even think about walking off again, or I'll fry you from the inside out," she snapped. "We need to get out of here fast." She pointed at the binding rune on his chest, which began to glow faintly.
"Alright, alright," Asura muttered, rubbing the spot on his head where she'd hit him. "If we talk to some of the girls, they should have the info." Mel rose her fist, ready to punch him again, but Asura threw up his hands in defense. "It's true, man," he pleaded. "Quit hitting me. I'll get it. Don't act like you ain't the one being lured."
The group started to walk toward a few women eyeing them from the corner, but they froze when a man emerged from the shadows of a velvet booth. He looked like a high school jock who had never quite grown up, still wearing a football jacket from years ago and awkwardly squeezing himself into jeans far too tight for his bulky frame.
The man staggered toward them, two striking women draped on his arms. Asura quickly saw through the facade, these women weren't there out of genuine interest. For a fleeting moment, their expressions contorted in disgust as they listened to him shout. "What are you jerks doing in here? Your kind isn't welcome here!" He leaned forward, barely able to maintain his balance. "Ge-get your asses out of here, or I'll make you get the fuck out!"
He swayed as he spoke, his body starting to radiate an unnatural energy. Asura's eyes narrowed in recognition. A red glow emanated from his chubby frame, casting a sinister light over the room. The group froze, their eyes widening as they realized the danger of the situation.
How is a human using demonic mana? The priests' thoughts raced in alarm. Even the man looked startled as his body pulsed with power, desperately patting himself down as though he were on fire. Confusion spread across the group. They had never seen a human emit quotidian mana before, unless... "He's not a witch, is he?" Asura thought incredulously, eyeing the man.
"Look at him." Asura watched as he fell onto his backside. The man rolled frantically on the floor, struggling to extinguish the dangerous light radiating from him like a child throwing a tantrum. His pleas were frantic. "HELP ME! DON'T JUST STAND THERE! DO YOUR JOB! HEAL ME!"
Asura stepped forward, poking the man in his belly with a forceful jab to see if the glow would vanish or if an illusion would break. The man doubled over in pain, his stomach crumpling as Asura's finger slammed into him. "Wait, how the hell are you using quotidian mana? You a monster or something?"
"No! It just started after I slept with a few women around here," the man grunted, still trying to extinguish the fire-like glow. The group stood in stunned silence, processing the absurdity of what they had just heard. Asura's voice broke the silence, his tone dripping with disbelief.
"Wait—wait. You slept with the women here and got it? Did you get it from the Succubi? You caught... monster aids? And now you have powers? Hahahahaha! That's rich, man!" Asura laughed so hard his entire body shook with amusement. But as the laughter died down, Asura's face darkened slightly, and he leaned in, his voice serious. "Seriously though, you need to get that looked at. That's bad news."
He glanced at Mel, who was still stunned by the situation's absurdity, while Asura continued to snicker, wiping tears from his eyes as he clutched his knees. The man's face turned an even darker shade of red, his embarrassment growing with each passing second. Asura's booming laughter echoed through the room, and the poor man, humiliated, could only sit there, shoulders hunched. "Go find a healer," Asura said, wiping the last of his laughter away. "Tell them you got worms."
"Yeah," Asura paused, trying to find the words. "You got a parasite buddy." The ogre turned to Ash, whose eyes were fixed in a deadly stare. "You're no fun," Asura commented, his voice lighthearted despite the tension. "Alright, I'll go get the information."
With the distraction gone, he turned towards the three women who had been observing from the corner. Their smiles, now unveiled, were predatory, a calculated invitation to their next conquest. Asura returned the grin, a knowing glint in his eyes, fully aware of the game being played. Meanwhile, Ash, his gaze averted, felt a wave of discomfort wash over him. The women's attire, designed to entice, left far too little to the imagination, a stark contrast to his own sense of propriety.
One of the women slid to the ogre's side, her voice a soft whisper as the other two made their way toward the group, eager to expand their influence. The air grew heavy with temptation as the Succubi worked their charm. As Wain stood nearby, one of the women approached him, brushing her fingers against his arm.
Instantly, the sweet, intoxicating fragrance around her intensified, overwhelming his senses. It was like being surrounded by roses in a distant, sunlit garden, the scent almost suffocating in its beauty. She leaned in closer, her voice like a melody in his ear, whispering, "Come with me, baby. Let's have some fun."
The other woman turned to Mel, her breath warm as she whispered, "We can have some fun with you, dear. What do you say?" The air grew thick with the presence of quotidian mana as the Succubi sought to ensnare them with their allure. The pull was almost physical, a pressure that weakened their willpower, clouding their minds with dizzying visions.
Despite the temptation, the group stayed focused, though it wasn't easy. They were close to losing their footing, swayed by the power of the demons' charm. Minutes passed before Asura returned to the group, finally shaking off the spell's lingering influence. Mel looked at him expectantly. "Well? What's going on?"
Asura glanced back at the woman who had been flirting with him, offering a knowing smile. "The big boss will be here in a minute." Ash, still grumpy from the encounter, crossed his arms and muttered, "Why are demons hanging around in a strip club, anyway?"
The second the word left his mouth, the room fell into a tense silence. Dozens of bright purple eyes, glowing with malice and disgust, turned toward him. Ash froze, his body paralyzed with fear. He considered bolting, but the gaze of the Succubi made him rethink. The resentment in their eyes were daggers, the weight of years of prejudice pressing down on him.
Asura understood their reaction all too well. The word demon had a bitter sting, especially in places like this, where their profession often brought out the worst in people. It wasn't the first time he'd heard the word spat out with venom, but he knew it was worse for the Succubi. Their job only made them more of a target for such hatred.
Asura sighed, a small, regretful smile on his face. "What a shame..." he muttered under his breath, his thoughts drifting as he considered the weight of the situation.
The air, once merely thick with mana, had solidified into a suffocating miasma. Wain, Ash, and Mel struggled, sweat beading on their brows as the density increased with each passing second. Even the hardened priests gasped for breath, their lungs burning. Yet, Asura remained untouched, a serene observer in the brewing storm.
Then, the illusion shattered. Ash watched in horror as the women's forms warped and twisted, revealing the monstrous reality beneath. Longhorns, some straight, others spiraling, erupted from their hair. Leathery wings, vast and powerful, unfurled from their backs, stretching after years of concealment. Thin, barbed tails, tipped with deadly points, lashed viciously, hungry for prey.
Before the priests could react, the succubi moved with terrifying speed, seizing them with iron grips and dragging them towards a hidden chamber. Mel thrashed, desperate to reach her gun, but her struggles were futile. As she was hauled away, she caught a glimpse of Asura, a wide, unsettling smile plastered on his face.
"Shouldn't have been racist, serves you guys right!" Asura called out, his voice laced with amusement. "Hey? Can you put that human down? The bucket hat guy? He's not racist like the other two.' He waved dismissively as he walked behind them. "You can keep them."
To Wain's astonishment, the succubi immediately released him. Asura draped an arm around his shoulder, guiding him alongside the monstrous women. "Why did they listen to you?" Wain asked, bewildered. "I don't know," Asura shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guess they like me?" The succubi, surprisingly strong, ushered them through a narrow doorway. We shouldn't have trusted Asura... traitor, Ash thought, his mind racing for an escape.
"What is your plan here? If you kill us, the Temple will send more. You know that, right? This won't be the end. Our-" The succubi interrupted him by roughly shoving Ash and Mel onto a plush couch. "Sit here and shut the fuck up, ok? We have had enough of your shit." They all hissed.
Ash tensed, reaching for the hilt of his sword, ready for an attack. But no one paid him any attention. The succubi simply vanished, leaving them alone. Asura shot him an annoyed glare as he walked up behind them. "You just had to be racist, huh? All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, bud."
Ash fell silent, his words dying in his throat. In the shadows of the corner, a woman sat motionless. What would be the consequences of irritating them further? he wondered. Her purple eyes, cold and watchful, held him captive. He dared not speak. He settled back onto the couch, deciding that patience was his only weapon. Who was she? he wondered, realizing that if she was one of them, she would have already spoken.
The piano music, a delicate cascade of notes, gnawed at Mel's nerves. Who would have thought a piano could sound so ominous? she mused. Its soft, rhythmic pulse should have been soothing, yet it stirred a cold dread within her. She rubbed her hands together, a futile attempt to quell the rising anxiety.
To distract herself, she scanned the room. Small, intimate, it resembled an office, perhaps belonging to the establishment's manager. The red carpet, identical to the rest of the building, stretched across the floor, flanked by towering wooden bookshelves. Wouldn't that stain easily? she thought, yet not a single blemish marred the pristine surface. The unsettling perfection of the place only deepened her unease.
A brown wooden desk stood between the bookshelves, a single green book lying open in its center. Mel felt a pull, a desire to know its secrets, but the silent figure lurking in the shadows held her rooted to her seat. To her left, Asura swayed to the melody, his expression one of serene enjoyment. "How are you so calm?" she whispered.
"What? How could you not be? The succubi are masters of music and dance. Watching them is like witnessing pure magic. Every song puts me to sleep." The ogre relaxed against the sofa.
"You... enjoy this?" Mel asked with pinched brows.
"Duh?" He scoffed as if the question was idiotic. "Humans wouldn't know true art if it slapped them in the face. You can't appreciate art if you don't appreciate the masters who made it."
"Made it?" Mel asked. "Ah, I ain't explaining that." Asura turned his gaze. "Who's—" Mel's question was cut short by the entrance of a woman who commanded attention. Her hair, a glossy black, framed a face of ethereal beauty, her amethyst eyes shimmering with an otherworldly light. Pale skin and an elegant figure were accentuated by a crimson dress woven from harpy feathers, clinging to her curves with exquisite precision.
Asura smiled, recognizing the source of the overwhelming mana. This was no ordinary Succubi. Mel, Ash, and Wain froze as the very air thickened with a regal, potent energy. The quotidian mana, once diffuse, now emanated from a single, overpowering source, each pulse a dagger piercing their skin.
Fear, cold and sharp, gripped Mel. This was a power beyond anything she had encountered. Sweat trickled down her brow as she nervously gripped her holstered gun. If this creature decided to kill them, they were doomed.
She braced herself, preparing to fight, if only to die with a semblance of defiance. Then, the woman settled into a red velvet chair, her smile revealing four sharp fangs. Her voice, a melodious caress, filled the room, though Asura detected a subtle undercurrent of disgust directed toward humans. It was deep, resonant, and hypnotic.
"I heard you wished to speak with the king, but she's a bit busy at the moment." The woman pushed back her hair. "So, you'll have to settle for the beautiful me. I hope you don't mind. Now, what can I do for you, darlings?"
The sight of her fangs confirmed their suspicions. A vampire. A terrifying realization. Mel's mind raced back to her lessons. Rare, powerful, high-status within the succubi realm, and virtually unkillable by priests. She turned to the men, her worry escalating. But they were all captivated by the woman's beauty, their expressions slack. Irritation flared within Mel. She crossed her arms, a sharp huff escaping her lips, breaking the spell.
"Are you really just going to help us for free?" Mel asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "It's difficult to believe a vampire, especially one of such high standing, would help us without a price. Asura said you would be able to give us information. Is that even true?"
The vampire's face lit up when she heard Asura's name. Her lips curved into a radiant smile, and she clapped her hands with childlike glee. She seized Asura's hands, her voice filled with warmth. "Oh, I knew I recognized you! The queen speaks of her nephew quite often. What can I do for you, love?"
Asura scratched the back of his neck, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Well, we need to know what's happening with the cultists around here. They keep failing to summon a specific monster. I figured you guys know about it." The ogre smiled. "As a result of their little games, I was summoned to the human realm. So now I'm here."
The vampire pressed a finger to her cheek, her gaze thoughtful. She watched Asura take a sip from a nearby cup. "From what I gather," she said, her voice matter-of-fact, "the cultists are attempting to summon Jormungandr."
Asura promptly spat out the remaining liquid, a violent cough wracking his body. Wain and Ash watched, their expressions a mixture of concern and bewilderment, as he struggled to regain his composure. He dabbed at his mouth, his eyes wide with shock.
"Jormungandr?" he gasped, his voice hoarse. "One of the dragon Apocalypses? The giant serpent? The world eater? Why would they be trying to summon an Apocalypse?"
"Shit…"