The Price of a Kiss

Under the electrifying surge, Keno’s body abruptly swelled to twice its original size. Terrifying power surged through him, making him seem formidable.

His leopard-like form sprinted forward, launching himself into a powerful leap with a heavy stomp. He then brought his sword crashing down, the short sword in his hand now appearing as insignificant as a toy.

Roland decisively rolled to the side, just as his previous position erupted as if struck by a landmine.

“What the hell!” Roland cursed aloud. “How am I supposed to fight this?”

“Die!” Keno roared, as Wrathful Lightning, the weapon in his hand, slowly coalesced into an orb of pure light. Within its depths, violent lightning elements churned furiously.

The orb of light shot towards Roland without a moment’s delay. Startled and unable to evade in time, he desperately used the corpse of a Minotaur to shield himself.

The violent lightning shattered the corpse into charred fragments, and Roland himself was flung backward by the immense force.

‘Run! Run!’

These two words echoed relentlessly in Roland’s mind. Ignoring his injuries, he scrambled to his feet and fled, continuously weaving through the structures to evade the goblin’s relentless assaults.

Keno’s attacks, fueled by his rage, were truly devastating. Streaks of lightning tore through the wooden buildings, reducing them to splinters. In no time, the entire camp appeared as if it had been thoroughly ploughed, left utterly unrecognizable.

“[The stone house on the left! Get in quickly!]”

With a stiff, sudden brake, Roland stumbled and fell flat on his face, yet in doing so, he narrowly evaded an incoming attack.

He scrambled to his feet in a panic, then rushed into the house as the Philosopher’s Stone had commanded.

“Hmm…” Keno watched the Hero disappear inside, then burst into delighted laughter. “Hahahahaha, excellent! Human, die alongside your woman!”

“Pfft—”

Keno suddenly coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood. He grimly endured the lightning’s rampage within his own body, as the Wrathful Lightning in his hand began to coalesce with all its might, poised for a final, decisive strike.

****

Inside the stone house, Freya and Roland found themselves face-to-face, staring at each other in stunned silence.

Roland hadn’t anticipated that this troublesome stone would lead him directly to the little Demon Lord’s side.

Nor had Freya ever imagined that the Hero would actually come looking for her.

“You, you…” Freya stammered, her eyes fixed on Roland’s numerous wounds. So overcome with emotion, she was on the verge of tears. “Why… why did you come?”

She leaned closer to him, her fingers gently tracing his injuries.

“Ow, ow, ow! Don’t touch that!” Roland cried, batting her hand away. Meeting her eager gaze, he sighed helplessly. “Ah… I came to find you, naturally.”

“Ah… I’m so sorry… It’s my fault you’ve suffered such grave injuries.” A strange sweetness bloomed in Freya’s heart upon hearing he had come for her. She lowered her head, asking cautiously, “What’s happening outside? I heard a truly terrifying battle.”

“How are things? We’re doomed…” Roland gave a wry smile, gesturing towards the outside. “There’s a lunatic out there, and he’s practically beaten me to death.”

BOOM! A deafening thunderclap erupted from outside, making Freya instinctively clamp her hands over her ears.

“Hero! Today marks your demise!” Keno’s body slowly flushed crimson, blood oozing from every pore. He let out a hoarse cry towards the sky. “Goblins will never be slaves!”

“[Quick! Kiss her!]”

The voice of the Philosopher’s Stone resounded.

‘Huh? Kiss… What in the world is this damn stone telling me to do?’

“[If you don’t want to die, quickly suck the Demon Lord’s bodily fluids!]”

Roland’s mind raced. At this critical moment, he could no longer hesitate. He firmly gripped Freya’s shoulders, his gaze fixed intently on her soft, pink lips.

“What are you doing…?” Freya asked, staring at him in confusion, a sudden, unsettling premonition washing over her.

“Forgive me!”

The sudden kiss caught Freya completely off guard, her mind exploding into a blank void.

Their tongues intertwined, a fragrant, thick, and smooth sensation rubbing between them. Roland found the little Demon Lord’s lips and tongue to be as soft and yielding as a milk cake, while her silky fluids were as sweet and aromatic as melted honey.

Moisture and warmth mingled, and the vibrant red flesh intertwined. Roland’s heart hammered frantically in his chest, his muscles tensing so severely they threatened to cramp. He could only close his eyes, as if this fervent embrace was simply inevitable.

“Die!!!”

Five furious bolts of lightning simultaneously struck the stone house, their devastating power akin to a colossal hammer blow. The crumbling structure was instantly pulverized into dust.

“Huu… huu…” Having utterly expended all his strength, Keno sank weakly to one knee, his short sword plunged into the earth beside him. “The Hero… is finally dead…”

The stone house before him had been reduced to countless ashes and dust, obscuring his vision. A sudden wave of profound sorrow washed over Keno, and he began to sob uncontrollably.

‘What was the use of killing the Hero now? My own kin… they are already extinct…’

‘My tribe… my tribe…’

“Ah—”

“Cough, cough, cough!” Roland waved his hand, clearing the surrounding dust. “I’m not dead, am I? Hey, hey!” He then joyfully shook the dazed Freya. “We’re not dead, hahahaha!”

Freya remained unresponsive, staring at him as if utterly bewildered.

A moment later, a flurry of fists rained down upon Roland’s chest, nearly pummeling him to death.

“Calm down!” Roland pleaded, shielding his head. “I’ll explain everything later! There’s still an enemy out there, you know!”

A crystalline glint shone in the corner of Freya’s eyes. She vigorously wiped her mouth with one hand, her cheeks burning crimson with humiliation. Yet, upon hearing his desperate plea, she angrily retracted her fists.

“[You’re on your own now…]” The Philosopher’s Stone uttered this final message before falling silent once more.

Roland patted the dust from his hands, then pulled Freya to her feet. Together, they slowly walked out of the ruined structure.

“Where are you going?”

“To finish things up.” Roland extended a hand to Freya. “Are you coming?”

Freya snorted, disdainfully turning her head away. But after a brief moment of consideration, she placed her hand in his.

Keno was utterly dumbfounded. He stared, frozen, at the two humans who had emerged alive from the wreckage.

“Impossible…” The pitiful goblin shakily struggled to his feet. “Absolutely impossible!”

Roland gazed at the bewildered creature, then turned to Freya beside him. “I’ve just had an idea,” he said.

“What is it?” Freya asked, her gaze filled with disdain.

Roland merely smiled, producing the broken hilt of his katana. He then focused, sensing the numerous fragments of his blade scattered across the ground. Having infused these fragments with his magic for so long, he possessed a deep connection to them.

After expending a portion of his magic, hundreds, even thousands, of fragments converged. He then used the magic recently absorbed from the Demon Lord’s bodily fluids, applying it like a potent adhesive to the broken edges of the fragments. In mere moments, a new katana took shape.

Freya watched the Hero’s artistic display with wide-eyed astonishment, unconsciously murmuring, “A Demonic Blade…”

“What was that?” Roland asked, genuinely puzzled. “I just couldn’t bear to lose that sword, so I thought I’d try to reassemble it.”

“Just a rather mysterious weapon, nothing more,” Freya said, pouting slightly. “I heard it was wielded by a formidable assassin.”

Keno watched them, utterly ignored, and a furious rage surged through him. He forcibly suppressed the intense pain wracking his body, letting out a roar as he charged forward.

Roland extended his hand, executing a light slash towards Keno’s neck. The goblin chuckled softly, moving to parry. Yet, to Keno’s astonishment, the instant his own short sword met Roland’s blade, the point of impact shattered once more. Roland’s katana, however, lost none of its momentum, continuing its powerful trajectory downward.

“Attack only, defend never—unrivaled under heaven.” Freya watched Keno’s head fall, severed by the blade, and a profound sense of satisfaction filled her. She let out a contented huff. “Hmph! Act arrogant and get struck by lightning, then I’ll feast at your funeral!”

Roland found the little Demon Lord’s smug expression rather amusing. He lightly tapped her head with the newly formed katana, only to suddenly realize his magic was completely depleted. The blade instantly crumbled back into countless fragments.

“Never mind, I don’t need it anymore.” Roland casually tossed the hilt aside. His gaze then fell upon Keno’s equipment lying on the ground, and a spark of interest ignited within him.

Freya pouted, rubbing her head and brushing off the lingering fragments. Observing Roland’s actions, she too approached the corpse and began to rummage through it.

“I’ll cast an appraisal spell to see,” Freya declared, but then she suddenly remembered something. “Ah, I can’t feel any magic power right now…”

“[However, your bodily fluids still contain a great deal of magic power.]”

“Why?”

“That deceased scoundrel forced some kind of medicine on me, called Maragobi Grass.” Freya kicked Keno’s head away as if to vent her frustration, then picked up the bracelet and short sword from his corpse. “I’ll keep this bracelet; you can have this sword.”

Roland accepted the sword, immediately sensing the surging electrical aura emanating from it. He then glanced at Freya, who was now wearing the bracelet, and suddenly spoke. “About… that thing this morning, it was a misunderstanding.”

“Huh?” Freya paused, then instantly recalled the incident.

“My right leg was injured at the time, and when that woman jumped down, she landed on me, so…” Roland spread his hands, feigning innocence.

“Oh…” Freya looked down, tracing circles on the ground with her foot, her expression unreadable.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again. “By the way, there are still many women here who need rescuing!”

“Women?” Roland’s ears perked up at the word.

Freya offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, indeed! Many women kidnapped by goblins are awaiting your heroic rescue!”

Roland, feeling somewhat deflated, patted the dust from his clothes.

“Then let’s quickly take care of this. We have more important things to do once we’re done.”

“What is it?” Freya’s round eyes gazed at him curiously.

“I’m taking you home for rabbit stew.”