FFF Class Auto Hero: The Weakest Class Turned Out To Be The Strongest? Chapter 27: The Price of Salvation

The halls stretched endlessly, their dim torchlight flickering against damp stone walls.

The scent of mildew mixed with sothing tallic—blood, probably.

Gareth and his party moved cautiously, keeping an ear out for approaching footsteps, while Brann leaned against him for support.

The wounded fighter was slowing them down, and Gareth knew it. Gareth also knew better than to say it out loud.

Tobin, however, had no such restraint.

"Remind again why we're still skulking around instead of running for our lives?"

"Because I, for one, would rather not find out what fun rituals they have lined up for us."

"We need to find our weapons," Gareth said simply. "Unless you plan on fighting off whatever guards we encounter with your hair pin."

Tobin sighed.

Elira, trailing behind them, shook her head. "If you two could stop bickering for a second, maybe we'd actually get sowhere." She glanced at Brann, who was struggling to keep up, and muttered under her breath. "Preferably before one of us drops dead."

They kept moving for what felt like forever, slipping through door after door, only to find more corridors, more empty rooms, and absolutely nothing of value.

Tobin, naturally, had reached his limit.

"This is stupid," he announced, throwing up his hands as they passed yet another set of doors leading to nothing useful. "I an, honestly, how many doors does one evil underground lair need? Is there a prize at the end? Do we get a commorative plaque for exploring the entire damn place?"

Gareth didn't bother responding. He was too busy scanning the next passage for any sign of their gear.

Elira, however, had less patience. "You could stop whining and help look."

Tobin scoffed. "Oh, my mistake. I didn't realize opening every door and finding yet another empty room was a vital part of our grand escape plan."

Brann, still clutching his side where he'd taken a hit earlier, let out a low groan. "Much as I hate to say it... he's got a point. We're wasting ti."

That gave Gareth pause. He hated to admit it, but they were running in circles. Without their weapons, they weren't exactly at full strength, but if they kept this up, they'd be dead before they found them.

Before he could decide, the choice was made for him.

A scream ripped through the tunnels. A raw, guttural sound—pain, terror, and sothing else laced into it. It wasn't the kind of scream soone lets out for show. It was the kind that ca at the end.

Then, an instant later—boom.

The explosion shook the underground structure, sending dust and loose debris tumbling from the ceiling. A pulse of energy surged through the walls, strong enough to make their bones hum with residual force.

Elira was the first to move. "That ca from up ahead."

Tobin hesitated. "You say that like it's a reason to go toward it."

Gareth was already walking. "Because it is."

The others groaned but followed. The halls twisted and turned before finally leading them to a set of massive double doors.

Solid. Heavy.

No one wanted to be the one to suggest opening the doors.

They stood there, staring at them like they might grow teeth and bite whoever got too close. Dust still drifted in the air from the explosion, and sowhere beyond the heavy doors, the muffled echoes of panicked voices drifted through.

"Well?" Gareth said, looking around. "Are we just going to stand here all day?"

Tobin exhaled loudly. "I'd rather do literally anything else, but since our luck's been absolute garbage so far, why not?"

Brann frowned, shifting his weight. "You don't think whatever's behind there is what caused the explosion?"

Gareth shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

Elira was already stepping forward. "Fine. Let's just get it over with."

With so effort, they pushed the heavy doors open. The hinges groaned, the weight of the doors making it clear they weren't ant to be casually opened. And then—

The air changed.

Beyond the threshold lay a massive underground chamber. Cavernous, impossibly vast. It stretched far beyond what the tunnels suggested, disappearing into darkness at the edges.

Rows of tal platforms, stone slabs, and arcane-looking machinery filled the space, most of it connected by thick cables and glass tubing that pulsed with eerie blue light. The place slled of chemicals, burnt tal, and sothing sickly sweet—like flowers left to rot.

Gareth exhaled. "Yeah. That's an experint lab if I've ever seen one."

Elira's expression tightened. "This place is huge. Whatever they were doing down here, it wasn't small-scale."

Tobin rubbed his face. "Great. Even worse than I thought."

Then, they saw them.

Won in dark blue and white robes with golden embroidery, moving like wraiths through the chaos.

The researchers—n and won clad in red and black—were running, screaming, trying to escape. But the robed won pursued them with eerie precision, blades flashing. Blood painted the cold stone floor.

One of the won, her hood pushed back to reveal a youthful face with black hair and red eyes glowing with bliss, drove a dagger into a man's chest.

Over and over.

The crazy smile she had on her face suggested she was enjoying it.

"It is all for our Lord," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm sure he will be pleased with us. He will praise us."

She looked absolutely delighted.

Their stomachs turned from the sight.

The other robed won were just as rciless. Laughter, prayers, and the wet sounds of blades eting flesh filled the cavern.

"Th-They're enjoying this," Elira said, her voice trembling.

Tobin's face had gone pale. "Yeah. No sane person smiles like that when they kill soone."

Brann exhaled, his grip tightening on the nearest surface for support. "We need to go. Now."

Gareth didn't argue.

They were outnumbered, outmatched, and—most importantly—unard. Staying here was suicide.

Then, as if the universe itself decided things weren't bad enough—

One of the won turned.

Red eyes locked onto them from across the chamber.

She grinned.

"Shit!" Tobin yelled. "Run! Now!"

They barely had ti to react.

The woman suddenly moved.

A blur.

One mont she was standing across the chamber. The next, she surged forward, darting through the air.

The heavy double doors shattered around them.

Not swung open. Not pushed aside.

Shattered.

Splinters of thick, reinforced wood exploded outward, propelled by sheer force. The shockwave that followed hit them like a hamr, knocking all four of them off their feet.

Gareth barely had ti to register the pain before he hit the ground, skidding across the cold stone. Elira landed with a sharp gasp beside him, while Tobin cursed between coughs.

Brann, still weak from his wounds, barely managed to brace himself before hitting the ground hard.

Footsteps echoed.

"Trying to run away?"

The woman sounded amused.

Gareth forced himself upright, his mind racing. Fight? No weapons. Flee? No ti. Bluff? Probably pointless.

She was toying with them.

Then—

A female voice spoke up.

"Viral, how many tis must I tell you? The only ones you are supposed to kill are the ones in red."

The woman, Viral, stilled.

Gareth and the others looked up, struggling to regain their footing.

A new figure had erged behind Viral, taller, more composed. She wore robes similar to the others—white and deep blue, lined with gold—but hers were different. More elaborate. More revealing.

She had horns. Curled, elegant, arching back from the sides her head like a crown. A tail, tipped with the unmistakable shape of a heart attack it's tip.

And a blindfold.

Golden, embroidered with a crescent moon at its center.

Her long, curly dark purple hair cascaded past her shoulders, swaying as she stepped forward.

Gareth felt a cold weight settle in his gut. That tail, those beautiful white horns and her sinfully seductive figure.

A succubus. Those features were unmistakable.

Viral lowered her head, instantly deferential. "Apologies, head pristess Lilith. They were squirming behind a door, so I assud they were—"

Lilith raised a hand. A simple gesture, but it silenced Viral imdiately.

"No," she said. "These are rely lost lambs. Ones who ought to be saved from their fate like tye many others who were unfortunately brought here."

Her head tilted slightly. Though blindfolded, it felt like she was gazing directly into them.

Then her lips parted. "Hmmm, Oh my... it appears one of you isn't very long for this world."

Her attention drifted to Brann, who was still clutching his side, pale from blood loss.

"No matter. You can all be saved."

A pause.

"But only if you are willing."

Gareth exchanged a glance with the others.

This wasn't what he expected from a succubus. Where was the seduction, the temptation? This wasn't the usual ga of lust and bargains. This was sothing else.

Sothing worse.

Still, they didn't have many choices.

He exhaled sharply, then asked, "And what exactly do we have to do?"

Lilith smiled as she giggled softly, licking her soft plum lips.

Then she spoke.

"Tell ..."

"Are you willing to devote yourselves to our Lord?"