Behind the battlefront, Ines was close to losing her mind with rage.
She had never imagined that a kidnapping target so poor—living in a simple, shabby stone hut—would actually have such a powerful protector, someone whose strength completely overturned her expectations and even cost her dearly for a single slip.
How could things turn out like this?
She just could not understand, cursing inwardly in frustration. But complaining was pointless now. All she could do was unleash her full strength and simply crush her way through!
Crush all resistance, then swagger right in to snatch both her targets away!
Exposure? So what—she'd deal with the fallout later. But tonight, the first mission she'd received from the Abyssal Lord could not, absolutely could not, end in failure!
She raged inwardly, but tonight, failure was destined to be her only taste.
After all, she was not the only one with a backup plan.
The eight cambions beat their wings, dive-bombing down toward Charles. But at that moment, a torrent of rainbow-colored light swept the sky, and together the cambions unleashed snarls of agony: "Graaah—!"
This spell transformed the entire battlefield sky. Whether it was the airborne cambions, Ines lurking in the shadows, or the Amazon women watching from their homes, all were shocked, their eyes drawn in disbelief to the source of the dazzling cascade.
And there she was—a tall, voluptuous silhouette in a luxurious nun's robe of pure white trimmed with gold, hand raised high, her expression stern.
It was Theresa, who had been hiding and silent all this time. The moment the cambions revealed themselves, she appeared and joined the battle.
From the entrance of the residential quarter, she strode serenely forward, white light glowing beneath her feet—like a descending goddess. And wasting no time, to prevent further complications, she raised her hand and unleashed a level seven spell—Prismatic Spray—crippling several unlucky cambions instantly!
"Damn woman!"
Snarling in pain, the fiends twisted and screamed in Abyssal rage. The chaotic blood of demons made them immediately forget Ines's command as they roared and charged, aiming to kill her first!
But then Hattie emerged at Theresa's back, unleashing writhing tentacles to guard before her, ready to seize any cambion bold enough to land.
On the other side, Sophia began launching Chromatic Orbs one after another—a master of Metamagic Feats, she could spit out first-level spells like a magic machine gun, pouring out explosive fire!
Nidalee, at the rear, knew her strength could do little in a battle of this scale, but as a druid, she had her own gifts: channeling nature magic to grant healing and support to her sisters locked in combat.
Small though her magic's help was compared to the witches' overwhelming power, it was better than nothing.
Hiding in the shadows was Ruth. She didn't rush the field; as an assassin, she hunted patiently, biding her time for a perfect strike—then—
Whoosh—
As the first cambion swooped at Theresa, Ruth sprang from the darkness, her hand morphing into a gleaming blade and slashing across the fiend's throat—
Shhk—!
In an instant, a massive head flew free, scalding blood spraying out. The startled fiend convulsed violently, fell, and his body dissolved into blue smoke.
His body in the material world was dead, but his soul would return to the Infinite Abyss to await resurrection.
In truth, fiends from either the Abyss or the Nine Hells can't be killed for good in the material world—even beheaded, they'll live on elsewhere.
Their forms here are mere projections of their true bodies, which remain safe in their home plane. In the end, slaying them here destroys only an echo.
Only by entering their Old Nest and killing their real body can you truly erase their existence. Such ventures are perilous even for legendary Adventurers—few dare journey into the Infinite Abyss to hunt a target amid endless demons.
That's why sealing demons is usually far more practical and effective than killing them.
Yet even slaying them here is not useless: for fiends, the material world isn't easily accessed. After defeat, they may never return.
With one cambion lost, the numbers shifted from eight against five to seven against five. Since cambions are highly resistant to fire and toxins, Sephera and Ekta still held back.
Andy, the weakest, also didn't join in—her strength of little use. It seemed the cambions still had a numbers advantage.
But in true power, they were outmatched.
According to old Monster Manual records, Hattie's challenge rating before being purified was six, Ruth and Sephera are rated seven, Sophia five (up to ten after memory restoration)—though these ratings are inconsistent (for example, Sephera cannot best any other witch in the monastery), but they serve as a broad benchmark.
After experiencing the Night of the Witches, the monastery's level up, and powers bestowed by the goddess statue, the witches—especially Hattie—had seen a breakthrough in strength. These cambions, now, were no problem.
And with the cambions fighting wildly and with no teamwork, their defeat was only a matter of time!
In the rear, Ines watched the battle with grinding teeth, fury nearly making her jaw crack.
How was this possible?!
Prismatic Spray—that's a seventh-level spell, something only a thirteenth-level Mage should master!
How could that nun wield it?! Isn't this monastery bankrupt and failing?!
Before the invasion, Ines had considered her investigation thorough. All she'd found was a dwindling convent of the Goddess of Life, broke and on the brink.
To pay their debts, they'd even branched into various businesses—groceries, clothes. Ines had even sneered that if things went on, the nuns would soon have to secretly sell their bodies, turning the saintly monastery into a grand brothel...
In a word, she hadn't taken these "useless do-gooder" nuns seriously. In her mind, the Amazons who'd snapped up cheap property were the real threat, and since they made no move, her plan should have gone smoothly.
So why had everything gone so wrong?
Utterly confused, furious, and burning with rage, Ines lifted her head to glare at Charles, who stood guard at Malena's door.
No choice—she would do it herself now!
The cambions could die and resurrect in the Abyss; she could always summon them again.
And as for mortals? Humans are cannon fodder—their deaths mean nothing.
She just needed to crush this man, snatch her targets, and the mission would still be a success. She could resume her plans.
That was that—she would destroy him!
Wings unfurled at her waist, she kicked up a storm and soared into the night sky.
By now, Theresa's Prismatic Spray had ended, the sky above was clear, so Ines looked down upon Charles and let a sly smile curl her lips. "Hey, handsome, mind if I come in?"
Along with Ines's voice, a surge of magic swept forth. Succubi's Charm Person relies not only on their bodily charisma—magic is their true aid.
But Charles didn't budge, his shield up, sword raised, eyes alert.
As if! With Eldritch Mind trained, at sixth-level, his spellcasting ability was maxed—falling for a charm effect now would be unthinkable.
"Fool!"
Ines cursed. Tonight had been one humiliation after another: flawed intel, losing in combat, and now her most prized charm failed...
Fury hardened her expression. She raised a hand and flung a Fire Bolt at him.
This must be a paladin or an eldritch knight—he can't handle ranged attacks! I'll just blast him out of the sky!
Surely, she thought, nothing could go wrong now.
Charles raised his shield: "Absorb Elements!"
Buzz—
Magic shimmered, absorbing most of the incoming fire. But the shield still seared with boiling heat, and Charles could not help gritting his teeth.
That hurt!
This succubus was no amateur spellcaster!
But…
Does she really want a ranged duel?
As he watched her—wings beating, preparing another spell, smile smug—Charles had to laugh inwardly. Little did she know, ranged attacks were now his own forte.
Dropping his longsword, it shimmered away into starlight.
He then gestured, Hexblade's Curse targeting her from afar, and incanted: "Eldritch Blast!"
Four magic arrays blossomed above him, firing four thick, invisible beams into the night at the succubus.
Ines's smile froze. She flapped madly, trying to evade, but the blasts boxed her in. At least two would strike!
Bang—!
"Urk—!"
Two beams ripped her body, the curse taking effect. Groaning in agony, stunned by pain, she barely moved.
Damn, he still had this hidden up his sleeve!
No way—the body can't win this!
She had to flee!
The moment that instinct arose, she tried to fly away. But Charles wouldn't give her the chance—the reach of Eldritch Blast was immense; she'd never escape the spell's range.
Dispelling any notion of mercy, he cast again: four more blasts streaked skyward—
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Aaagh—!"
This time, his aim was true. All four struck home, ripping the succubus apart amid a spray of energy, her screams echoing in the black sky.
The battle was over.
Charles let out a relieved sigh—then frowned.
No vitality returned to him?
Hexblade's Curse is supposed to heal the caster when the cursed dies, restoring vitality from the fallen.
Charles was indeed a bit wounded; that Fire Bolt had left him somewhat scorched. He'd planned to heal using the curse's effect—but…
Had the succubus faked death and slipped away?
This thought clenched his heart.
There was no doubt—she had another goal!
He raised his eyes, scanning the darkness. In the distance, Theresa and the others were wrapping up their battle. Though there had been some chaos, their skills made short work of the reckless cambions.
Charles spoke softly to the invisible witches: "The succubus ran. I thought I finished her, but I didn't—she faked her death!"
"Track her, search the area. She can't have gotten far—don't let her make it back to the Abyssal Lord!"
Moments later, the witches replied through the mosquito earring. They'd even captured some cambions and kidnappers, now locked in the dungeon under Sephera's guard, to be interrogated later. Hattie and the other main fighters set off to hunt the missing succubus.
Having assigned these tasks, Charles finally relaxed. He glanced around the bloody, corpse-strewn ground, then toward the Amazon women's houses, smiling faintly.
During previous sales, some Amazons—ignorant of his strength and unsure if the monastery was not to be screwed with—had tried to haggle and bully him.
He hadn't wanted to trouble Porter every time, nor risk conflict with South Harbor District's top gangs, so it remained a headache.
But after tonight…
Well, they'd have a new respect for him now.
The Amazon issue was minor, though. Charles had a bigger worry.
The Abyssal Lord had found his location...
Their targets were Lisa. Now that his home base was compromised, troubles would be relentless.
There's no way to defend against thieves every day. Besides, Nidalee's tribe was suffering under the Abyssal Lord, too. So, moving forward...
Charles pursed his lips, eyes turning northwest. His mind was set.
Blackstaff Tower must have noticed the Abyssal Lord's trace, too. It would be better to go there himself and resolve this before winter—putting an end to the threat.
Letting these thoughts settle, he turned and walked back to Malena's room to check on the two of them.
Fortunately, the mother and daughter had recovered from their fear. As he entered, streaked with blood, Malena swallowed nervously, but quickly took his arm, pulling over a chair for him to sit. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Let me check you over!"
Charles shook his head. "I'm fine—it's not mine, just blood from others. Are you both ok? Any injuries?"
Malena shook her head. "We checked, no injury. Please sit; you should rest."
Charles wanted to protest, but couldn't resist Malena's concern and his own exhaustion, so he sat and let out a long breath.
"I'll get you something to drink."
Lisa was sensible as ever, darting to the table and scanning it with her eyes.
Spotting a large wooden mug still half-filled with milk, she cheered, lifted the cup in both hands, and carried it to Charles: "Priest, please drink some milk!"
"Thank you," Charles said, accepting without suspicion.
Malena, seeing the mug Lisa was offering, suddenly looked stricken. She realized exactly what was in there, but couldn't explain at the moment. Anxiety prickled in her heart.
Charles raised the mug, about to drink, when he detected a faint, unfamiliar scent.
Odd. What was that flavor?
Was the milk spoiled?
He wondered, yet Lisa's expectant smile made it impossible to refuse. Unwilling to disappoint, Charles forced himself to drink the cool milk down—
Wait… why does it taste a little bit sweet?
Sugar in milk?
No, the mouthfeel isn't right... Goat's milk, maybe?
No, not quite.
Wait a second, could it be…
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