Several hours later, Yenissa and Shennong finally finished their last round of intense lovemaking, the house at last falling silent, no longer echoing with Yenissa’s loud, uncontrollable squeals. His movents had grown rougher by the end, a reflection of their unrelenting passion.
In the main room, Romina was trying to read a book, though the deep red blush on her face betrayed how much she’d heard. Rilith and Velara, anwhile, looked visibly jealous, exchanging glances with thinly veiled envy. Even Ka’ra, now returned to her normal state, had been well aware of what was happening behind the closed door. It was impossible not to be.
The next morning, the main room was filled with the scent of flowers freshly picked by Yenissa. She was behind Shennong, hugging him tightly, her body glistening with a glow that spoke of renewed strength. Her skin had a soft shimr, as though charged by the night’s passion. She pressed her cheek to his back and whispered dreamily, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"I can’t believe it..."
Shennong glanced over his shoulder at her, puzzled. "What can’t you believe, Yenissa?"
Yenissa pouted, her full lips forming an exaggerated frown. "Hmph... Don’t call that. Call ’darling’ or ’mommy’ or sothing sweet. I’m not replying until you do~" Her tone was teasing, yet there was a softness to it—a strange vulnerability beneath the succubus charm.
Shennong blinked, caught off-guard, then let out a resigned chuckle. He leaned back and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Alright then... Darling, what’s bothering you?"
Yenissa’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened, and for a fleeting mont, she looked like a teenager caught in her first crush. Then, she composed herself, hiding the fluttering emotion beneath a veil of elegance and mischief.
"Congratulations, my boy," she said, pride swelling in her voice. "You’re the first human to ever survive a night with a high-born succubus like —not even a lesser one could’ve managed that."
She pointed to the tattoo on her lower abdon, a delicate sigil that had grown sharper and clearer overnight. "I believe this is proof. It’s a mark that only appears when a succubus finds... a true mate. At least, I hope that’s what this is because I truly don’t have any clue."
Shennong’s smile faltered slightly. Though he was proud, it was a bitter smile. "It took a heavy toll on . My body still feels numb... and for a mont, I think I lost my mind. If you hadn’t controlled yourself, I might not be standing here. Next ti... I’ll be stronger. I’ll match you—no, outlast you."
Yenissa giggled softly, wrapping her arms more tightly around him. "Mmm~ you better. I’m not going easy on you next ti either." She buried her nose in the crook of his neck and began to sniff him affectionately.
Just then, a loud, awkward cough interrupted their intimacy. They turned to see Rilith, Velara, Romina, and Ka’ra standing in the doorway. Ka’ra had her hands over her face, but she was clearly peeking through her fingers.
"Lady Yenissa!" Rilith huffed, hands on her hips. "We want his attention too! You can’t hog him forever."
Velara nodded, arms crossed beneath her chest. "It’s not fair. You had him all night."
Romina simply averted her gaze, the blush on her cheeks deepening. She said nothing, but it was clear she had no interest in joining the others... yet she couldn’t look away either.
Yenissa scowled, her voice filled with mock annoyance. "Ugh... Why are they all here already? I barely got to enjoy my morning cuddle..."
Before she could complain further, Shennong laughed and stepped forward. "Because we’re taking Ka’ra on a little trip. A tour, you could say."
Ka’ra perked up. "A... trip?"
"Yes," Shennong confird with a sly grin. "We’re going to show our guest why the Moonlight Forest is the perfect ho for her tribe. It’ll be a small trial."
Rilith’s eyes sparkled. "A trial? Like a challenge?"
"Exactly," Shennong replied, his smile growing more wicked. "But here’s the catch: neither Yenissa nor I will help you this ti. We’ll just watch."
Velara’s lips curled into a smirk. "Finally, a chance to prove ourselves."
Yenissa stretched lazily, her arms above her head, then gave Shennong a sideways glance. "You’re so cruel sotis."
Romina sighed, clutching her book. "Do I... have to co too?"
"Yes," Shennong said firmly, but his voice was gentle. "Being with ans being part of this family. Conflict is part of that, Romina. You don’t have to fight, but you do have to walk with us."
Romina hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Alright... but please don’t treat like them. I can’t fight."
"Of course," Yenissa said with a chuckle. "Just don’t let out whatever is inside you. You’re going to be with us."
Everyone laughed at the absurdity of situation—except Romina, who looked horrified.
Shennong stepped forward and clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone. Get ready. We leave in an hour. Bring your weapons, your will, and your pride. The Moonlight Forest doesn’t go easy on anyone—not even us."
As they dispersed to prepare, Ka’ra lingered beside Shennong.
"Is it really that dangerous?" she asked quietly.
He smiled at her, warm and reassuring. "Dangerous? Yes. But it’s also beautiful. And if you can find your place in it... you’ll never want to leave."
Ka’ra looked back at the others—at the laughter, the bickering, the warmth.
For the first ti in a long while, she felt this might be the right choice for her tribe.
***
The air stank of smoke, molten tal, and sweat. Sparks burst through the black air like fireflies from the anvils, and every clang of hamr against steel rang like a war drum. The orcish blacksmiths toiled tirelessly beneath the crimson light of the fla pits, forging armor thick enough to withstand a knight’s sword and wicked enough to make n wet themselves in battle.
Ukar stomped through the smithing hall, his boots crunching over bits of slag and ash. His shoulders were draped in charred animal pelts, his tusks glinted in the fla, and his eyes were full of a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
"This one, Warchief!" barked one of the smiths, holding up a heavy chestplate adorned with jagged ridges and fla-burned symbols. "Made from mountain boar bone and obsidian! It’ll make you look like the Fla God himself!"
Ukar grunted. "It looks like it’d break if I sat down." He grabbed the armor and tossed it aside. "Show sothing better."
Another smith stepped forward. "What about the Ashfang Armor? Fused in higest fire. It sings when blood touches it!"
"Hmm." Ukar ran his clawed fingers over the armor’s surface. "This... this has teeth." He grinned. "I’ll wear this when we crush the humans."
The blacksmiths roared in approval, slamming hamrs against anvils in celebration.
"Get it fitted," Ukar barked. "We march at dawn."
The room quieted for a mont, until a younger orc—no more than a whelp—muttered under his breath, "Ka’ra wouldn’t be this haste..."
The hamr Ukar had taken from the forge smashed across the young orc’s face a second later. The boy fell in a heap, groaning.
"Ka’ra is gone," Ukar said, his voice calm, dangerous. "And if she returns, I’ll feed her to the Fla myself."
No one dared speak after that.
Outside, the smoke from the forges twisted toward the darkening sky. Ukar made his way through the crude wooden pillars and bone-laced paths of the orc encampnt, heading toward the ancient altar where the Fla of Bhaal burned in a pit of stone and ash. It flickered weakly, lower than it had been in moons.
He scowled at it.
"More wood!" he shouted. "More fuel for the Fla! I want it burning until the stars scream!"
A dozen slaves and younglings scrambled to obey, tossing dry branches and oil-soaked hides into the fire. The fla surged, briefly, but Ukar’s face didn’t ease.
The truth was, the fla had been dwindling for weeks.
And Ukar feared what it ant.
He whispered to the fla, just loud enough for it to hear. "You chose . You burned my enemies, didn’t you? That ans I am yours. So burn! Burn as I command!"
But the fire only popped softly, unimpressed.
Still, Ukar turned and walked on. No one would see his doubt.
Beyond the fla pit, past the cracked stone paths, the old crone’s hut sat like a blister on the land. Twisted roots curled around it. Bones hung from its eaves.
Ukar didn’t knock. He barged in.
The old crone sat on the floor surrounded by incense smoke, her eyes milky and blind, but her voice sharp as any sword.
"Slls like fear," she said. "And soot. You again."
"I want the heirloom," Ukar said flatly.
She didn’t move. "You think you deserve the Skull of the Ancient?"
"It’s my right. My father’s blood still runs in ."
She cackled. "You an Thromgar? You are not suited to be called his son?"
"Careful, hag."
"I served your father. I nad him Warchief. You? You are re dust compared to him and Ka’ra."
"I’ve held the Fla," Ukar said, stepping forward. "It listens to ."
"Then why does it shrink, Ukar? Why does it hide?"
He clenched his jaw.
The crone leaned forward, her ancient bones creaking. "The Skull is not yours. It waits for the true heir."
"You an Ka’ra?" Ukar sneered. "That bitch is not coming back. She ran away. Weak. The spirits have spoken—they’ve shown visions. They want to lead. She’s not the rightful leader of the forest."
The crone rose, surprisingly tall for her age, and pointed a crooked finger at him. "None of you are the rightful leaders of this forest. The forest belongs to the Dryad Queen. Always has. We’re just guests here. Intruders. She is a rciful spirit. If she wanted we would all be gone by now."
Ukar laughed. "Sure, sure. Dryads. Spirits. Trees. Let them watch from their branches while we take what we want. We are not afraid."
"You should be."
He grinned wide. "Well, tomorrow at dawn, we’re marching. Closest human town—ripe for the taking. We’ll bring back food, iron, and humans. n to work. Won to warm our beds. Children to raise as warriors. It’s ti the tribe fed well."
The crone’s face did not flinch. "You will not be a leader."
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