Paresha’s Last Words

The door panel boomed, instantly splintering into countless shards of wood. These fragments scattered across the outer corridor, igniting a chorus of monstrous roars.

Several murlocs were hunched over, tearing at the still-twitching corpses of sailors beneath their feet. Their backs were covered in wet scales, gleaming with a sly, bluish light under the glow of the wall-mounted oil lamps.

Saranya stepped through the shallow, blood-red water. Her gaze swept over the faces of the bodies littering the ground, before finally meeting the murlocs’ crimson stares.

The murloc closest to her was the first to strike. A shrill roar tore from its throat, and the creature stirred up a foul stench as it lunged fiercely towards her!

Saranya’s dark golden pupils constricted. Grey arcane light surged through her arms, igniting the longsword in her hand. An ominous shadow then enveloped its blade.

Her form blurred. She instantly flickered behind the murloc, leaving only a fading afterimage in her wake.

A faint, dark arc of light moved with her.

Slish—

Like a hot knife through butter.

The murloc maintained its forward lunge, yet suddenly froze mid-motion. A thin crack appeared atop the creature’s bald head, extending straight down to cleave its entire body.

The next second, amidst a flurry of grey embers, the creature’s body silently split in two. As if a bomb had detonated within, viscous foul blood and entrails sprayed outwards, giving its brethren an impromptu shower.

Beneath the murloc’s bisected remains, a faint black light ascended. Before Saranya could react, this light snaked up her leather boot and absorbed into her body.

Saranya was startled to find herself absorbing polluted demonic energy. However, she soon discovered something even stranger.

After absorbing the demonic energy, her wounds seemed to have healed somewhat…

The murlocs stirred restlessly. A few were already discreetly retreating, showing an inclination to flee, while others wailed and bowed their bodies, yielding the fresh, warm corpses at their feet to her.

It seemed these murloc creatures perceived her as a higher-ranking superior. In accordance with the law of the jungle, they yielded their prey to her.

Saranya’s mind was clear; she harbored no bloodlust like these monsters. Naturally, she had no interest in the human corpses on the ground.

Seizing the moment while the monsters had no thought of resistance, she flicked her wrist and swung her shoulder. Her sword rose and fell in quick succession, dancing through several ‘Iron Butterfly’ moves, carving her enemies into scattered chunks of flesh.

?!

As tiny wisps of demonic energy converged into her body, Saranya’s injuries healed by more than half. Then, a tingling, burning pain flared in her side, and a pair of small, fleshy bumps began to swell from her lower back.

Something was wrong.

Saranya groaned, “Ugh… what is this… Ugh—!”

The fleshy bumps swelled and burst. A pair of small, obsidian-black wings tore through her skin, shredding the fabric of her cotton clothes, and unfurled proudly behind her.

Saranya quickly lowered her head, examining her reflection in the bloody water on the ground. The sight of herself sent a shock of alarm through her.

She had grown taller, her physique larger. Her abundant black hair had lost its color, turning silver-grey and floating in the air as if alive. Her skin, too, was no longer flesh-toned; it had become unnaturally pale.

And her eyes…

Dark grey hues smudged around her eyes, like a bewitching eyeshadow. Within her eye sockets, the whites of her eyes were filled with an inky darkness, and her dark golden irises had contracted into rings, encircling her beast-like slit pupils.

She raised a hand, noting her nails had grown sharp and slender, turning a lustrous black. Feeling a strange sensation in her mouth, she parted her crimson lips—

“Ah… Ahh…”

She now possessed elongated canines, two small points extending past her lips. Her alluring tongue, now long and slender, curled and slid restlessly within her mouth, its crimson hue vibrant and utterly seductive.

Saranya gasped, “Am I… am I really not… a succubus?!”

No, that’s not right, not a succubus…

Her figure was fuller and more toned than that of a traditional succubus. Beyond her allure, her demeanor exuded a deadly aggression, giving the impression that she could overpower anyone who dared to approach.

This form more closely resembled a higher-tier demonic creature found in the Desolation Zones: an Umbral Fiend.

Saranya recalled Kaelan had once transformed her into this state within the cathedral. At that time, she couldn’t maintain her consciousness; her body grew strong, but her mind turned foolish. Now, however, it was entirely different. She had developed more ‘maturely,’ and her mind remained perfectly intact.

Oh!

The reason for this smooth transformation was the demonic potion she had consumed earlier, brewed by Paresha and her Master.

Moreover… she now possessed the ability to transform at will. Perhaps she could even contend with the demon race now!

“Paresha!”

Her confidence surged, instantly eclipsing her fear and discomfort over her body’s demonization.

As long as she could gain power, defeat enemies, and help her Master and Paresha… she would willingly assume any form!

“Paresha, where are you?!”

Saranya sped through the corridor, bursting into a battlefield where sailors clashed with monsters. Unwilling to waste a single moment, she flapped her fleshy wings, stirring up a wave of demonic energy to accelerate. Amidst the panicked screams of the sailors, she bowled over both them and the monsters, bypassing the fight entirely.

After running for a while, her eyes suddenly flickered, and her nose twitched.

A familiar scent—the scent of the priestess…

Saranya followed the scent, turning and rushing into a side corridor.

“Paresha, answer me!”

This area was severely damaged, with claw marks and bloodstains covering the walls. Numerous murloc corpses lay dead on the ground, most with shattered skulls and mangled limbs, their postures brutally tragic.

Witnessing this scene, Saranya’s heart plummeted. Her gaze darted frantically, searching…

Finally, she saw her.

At the end of the side corridor, in a corner buried by collapsed debris, a small figure was curled up.

Paresha.

“Paresha—!!!”

She stumbled forward, lunging towards her. Her longsword clattered to the ground, splashing a ripple in the bloody water.

Her worst fear had materialized. Fear, like a surging tide, engulfed Saranya.

“No… no… please… no, no, no, no—”

She gently lifted Paresha, supporting her cold wrist. Pressing her own head forward, she rested it against the girl’s forehead.

The priestess lay motionless, her eyes half-open. Several gruesome lacerations on her chest continued to bleed profusely.

“Paresha… don’t be like this… it’s alright, it’s alright… Master can surely save you, there must be a way to save you…!”

Yet, within that broken shell, there seemed to be no sign of life.

…

…

…

“Cough… cough, cough…”

A faint light gradually flickered in Paresha’s half-open eyes.

“Sa… ran… ya… My… Lady…”

The girl’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, stirring a frantic burst of joy within Saranya.

“It’s me! It’s me! It’s me…”

Paresha’s throat moved slightly, and her long eyelashes fluttered.

“You… you’ve changed…”

“Yes! It’s me, I’ve become like this… I’ve become ugly, haven’t I? Hehehe…”

Saranya desperately forced a desolate smile, holding Paresha tightly in her embrace, and leaned her ear close to listen to the girl’s words.

“Ugh…”

Paresha groaned, her voice extremely weak.

The next second, a warm trickle of blood slowly emerged from the girl’s nostrils.

“Sister… you… look so… lewd…”