owlsbooks Chapter 111: Mt. Ignata
Chapter 111: Mt. Ignata
Chapter 111: Mt. IgnataThe heat hit Grace like a slap from an angry ex. Or what she imagined a slap from an angry ex to be like.
[Holy crap, it’s like walking into an oven.]
She’d been in the town for maybe five minutes and already her armor felt like she was being slow-cooked. The fire-resistant enchantments? Complete bs. They did close to nothing against regular heat.
"This is nice!" Alia chirped, because of course she did.
The Love Sister had already stripped down to basically nothing—just some pink strips of cloth that technically covered her boobs and pussy. Technically.
"Like a spa day!"
Zephyr nodded, fanning herself with one hand. She’d gone for a similar look, except in blue. Her dark skin glistened with sweat that made Grace’s mouth water despite the circumstances.
"Very relaxing. I can feel my pores opening."
Valkyrie looked like she wanted to murder someone. Preferably both Love Sisters.
"How. The fuck. Are you two this cheerful?"
"Practice!" Alia did a little twirl that made her strips of cloth flutter dangerously. "We’ve been to lots of hot places for morale missions. Desert villages, volcanic springs..."
"That one bathhouse with the really enthusiastic owner," Zephyr added with a knowing smile.
"OH! Mrs. Tanaka!" Alia’s eyes lit up. "She had that thing she did with her tongue—"
"FOCUS." Seraph’s voice cracked like a whip. "We need information. Not stories about whatever depraved things you did in a bathhouse."
"It wasn’t depraved," Zephyr protested. "It was therapeutic."
"Very therapeutic," Alia agreed. "My back never felt better."
Grace bit back a laugh.
They split up to cover more ground. Grace took the eastern section with Alia bouncing along beside her. Zephyr went west with Valkyrie, who looked like she was regretting every life choice that led to this moment. Seraph handled the town center alone.
The first few villagers Grace approached barely acknowledged her existence. They had that look—hollow eyes, singed clothes, shoulders bent from carrying too much fear.
[They look like my village did. Before I died.]
"Excuse me." Grace stopped an elderly woman sitting in a doorway. "We’re here about the demon attacks—"
"Every night."
The woman’s voice sounded like someone had taken sandpaper to her throat.
"They come down from the mountain. D-Demons... Made of fire. They take people sometimes. Alive."
Grace’s stomach clenched.
"Where do they take them?"
A gnarled finger pointed at the volcano looming over everything.
"Up there. We hear screaming sometimes. Echoes down the mountain. Then nothing."
Alia pressed closer to Grace. Her usual bouncy energy dimmed like someone had thrown water on a candle.
"That’s... that’s awful."
The woman laughed. It sounded like bones breaking.
"Better than what happens to the ones who stay." Her empty eyes fixed on Grace. "They burn slow. From the inside out. Like the fire wants them to suffer."
Grace thanked the woman and moved on, but each story just got worse. Demons that hunted in packs like wolves. Entire families burned in their beds. Children snatched from their mothers’ arms.
One man showed them his arms—covered in burn scars that formed words in some ancient language.
"They held me down," he whispered. "Carved these into me. Said I wasn’t worthy. Too weak."
[At least we’re not dealing with corrupted humans this time.]
The thought felt wrong, but Grace clung to it anyway. Fighting transformed villagers always fucked with her head. Having to kill people who used to be innocent. At least demons were simple. See demon, stab demon, demon dies. No moral complexity. Not much, anyway.
"Grace!" Alia tugged her sleeve. "Look at that."
She pointed at what used to be someone’s house. The burn marks on the remaining walls weren’t random. They formed patterns. Words.
Grace stepped closer, squinting through the heat shimmer.
"’The worthy will be forged in flame,’" she read out loud. "’The weak will become ash.’"
"Well that’s fucking ominous," Alia muttered.
Grace glanced at her.
"Since when do you swear?"
"S-Since we got to Murder Volcano Town!" Alia’s voice pitched higher. "This place is scary, Grace! Even my boobs are scared!"
Despite everything, Grace snorted.
"Your boobs are scared?"
"Yes! Look!" Alia grabbed her barely-covered breasts. "They’re all tight and pointy from fear!"
"That’s because you’re basically naked."
"Fear nipples! Fear nipples!!!"
---
They met back up at an inn Seraph had taken over. The owner looked like someone had turned a human into beef jerky—all leather skin and suspicious squinting. He brought them water that tasted like liquid pennies.
"Twenty-three confirmed dead," Seraph reported. She’d drawn a rough map on the table with charcoal. "Forty-seven missing. The demons attack every three days without fail."
"When was the last attack?" Valkyrie asked.
"Two nights ago."
[Fantastic.]
"The pattern’s consistent," Seraph continued. "They come from the northeast slope. Hit the outer buildings first, work their way in."
"Like they’re
"So? Think of that as a little bit of a challenge."
Despite everything, Grace laughed. Here she was, facing death by fire god, and these two idiots were debating the logistics of seducing elemental beings.
[At least if I die, I’ll die entertained.]