Chapter 111: Mt. Ignata

The 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 searching for something,” Grace said.

“Or someone.” Valkyrie’s scarred throat made her voice rough. “Did anyone mention the Flame directly?”

Zephyr raised her hand like they were in school.

“A few people talked about seeing a woman made of fire. She appears sometimes on the mountain. Just… watches. Like she’s waiting.”

[Waiting for me. Or, well, Eternia, more likely.]

Grace’s hand went to her medallion. Still ice-cold despite the ambient temperature that could fry an egg.

“We should scout the mountain,” Valkyrie suggested. “Get eyes on their position.”

“Tomorrow,” Seraph decided. “Tonight we rest and plan. No one goes near that mountain until we know what we’re dealing with.”

The inn had three rooms. Barely. They were more like closets with beds, but at least the walls were stone. Less flammable.

Seraph took one. Valkyrie another. Which left Grace bunking with Alia and Zephyr.

The second the door closed, Alia face-planted on the bed.

“This place is so depressing.” Her voice came out muffled by the pillow. “Like, aggressively depressing.”

“Yeah.” Grace sat on the bed’s edge. The mattress felt like someone had stuffed a bag with rocks and called it good. “Not exactly the fun field trip you signed up for.”

The bed dipped as Zephyr joined them, sandwiching Grace in the middle.

“We knew what we were getting into.” Her arm draped over Grace’s waist, casual as breathing. “Still better than sitting in the Dominion going crazy wondering if you’re okay.”

Grace perked up at the contact. Probably the result of her ever-rising Love attribute. Her body suddenly became very aware that she was pressed between two beautiful women wearing almost nothing.

In a private room.

With a bed.

[No. Focus. Tomorrow we might die… Or, rather, suffer extremely painful, uh… pain.]

But her body had other ideas. The Love attribute at 70 was no joke. Every touch felt amplified. Every breath against her skin sent little sparks through her nerves.

“You’re really warm,” Alia mumbled, turning to press her face into Grace’s shoulder.

“It’s the armor.”

“No.” Zephyr’s hand slid under Grace’s chest plate, fingers finding bare skin. “This is different. You’re almost glowing.”

She was right. Grace could feel it—divine energy humming just under her skin. Her body preparing for something.

[Or someone.]

“Maybe we should help you relax,” Alia suggested. Her hand joined Zephyr’s under the armor. “Take your mind off tomorrow.”

“I don’t think—”

Her medallion burned.

Not warm. Not hot.

Burned.

The room vanished.

Grace stood in a place that wasn’t really a place. No ground. No sky. Just heat and rage given form.

The Flame materialized in front of her.

[Oh fuck.]

She looked like Eternia. Sort of. If Eternia was made of molten metal and barely contained violence. Same face. Same body. But where Eternia radiated warmth and mischief, this thing radiated pure destruction.

Her “skin” shifted between gold and white-hot silver. Her hair was literal fire. Her eyes…

[Like staring into a forge.]

“You came.” The Flame’s voice was controlled violence. Each word sounded like swords clashing. “Good. I was getting bored burning peasants.”

“I’m not—”

“Save it.” Fire danced in those terrible eyes. “I know your essence. Your fear. Your weakness. You abandoned us. Left us to rot while you played with mortals and angels.”

[Great. Another one who thinks I’m Eternia.]

Grace tried to keep her voice steady.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“SILENCE!”

The word hit like a physical blow. Grace staggered back.

“You hide in that pathetic shell. Playing at being weak. But I see you.” The Flame stepped closer. Heat blistered Grace’s skin even in this vision. “I smell her on you. In you.”

“What do you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted.”

The Flame smiled. It was all teeth and malice. Grace had seen sharks that looked friendlier.

“To prove I’m stronger. To show that your precious ’love’ and ’compassion’ are weakness. That only strength matters.”

She raised one hand. Fire gathered there, condensing into something that hurt to look at.

“Tomorrow night. The mountain peak. We settle this properly.” The smile widened. “Unless you’re too much of a coward.”

The vision shattered.

Grace gasped, back in the shitty inn room. Her whole body shook. Sweat poured off her like she’d actually been standing in that heat.

Alia and Zephyr held her, eyes wide with worry.

“You were screaming,” Alia whispered. Her fear nipples were definitely prominent now. “Like, really screaming.”

Was she? Grace’s throat felt like she’d been gargling gravel.

“I’m okay.”

Total lie. She was absolutely not okay. She’d just been challenged to a death match by an angry fire god who thought she was her creator.

“Just… a vision.”

“Really? What did you see?” Zephyr’s hands rubbed soothing circles on Grace’s back.

“The Flame. She wants to see me. Tomorrow night. At the mountain peak.”

“… Wow,” Alia blinked.

Grace flopped back on the rock-hard mattress. The ceiling had water stains that looked like burnt faces if she squinted.

Tomorrow night, she’d have to convince an angry fire god of that fact. While dodging fire hot enough to melt stone. On top of an active volcano.

[No pressure.]

“Hey.” Alia’s voice pulled her from her spiral. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“Yeah.” Zephyr pressed a kiss to Grace’s temple. “Besides, maybe you can seduce her like you did the Tide.”

Grace groaned.

“I don’t think the Flame is the seduceable type.”

“Everyone’s the seduceable type if you try hard enough,” Alia said with disturbing confidence.

“She’s made of fire and rage!”

“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.]

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