"Alright, that should do it."

"Hmmph."

Senior Sister Feyn was behind me, tightening the straps of my alchemy satchel. But she’d cinched them *way* too tight! And did she really need to press her thigh against my lower back like that…?

"Now, fasten the clasp at the back for me." Feyn turned, sweeping her long hair aside. Beneath the opening of her sleek black bodysuit, her snow-white back gleamed.

My pulse spiked further as the purple strap of her bra came into view.

I leaned closer. That intoxicating fragrance drifted from her skin again. She was so tall—my eyes level with the delicate purple clasp of her bra. My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the fastener, unavoidably brushing against her skin. So powerful, yet her flesh was impossibly smooth and soft.

For some reason, my gaze drifted to the round, uplifted curves beneath her black skirt. A wild urge to squeeze them flared in my chest. *Would she gasp in shock… or kick me with her heel?*

Finally, we were both ready.

She looked like a shadowy mercenary swordswoman, her face veiled in black. I resembled a novice adventuring witch.

We faced each other and embraced.

Her full, firm chest forced me to arch backward—otherwise, my face would’ve buried itself right there.

Our soft skin pressed together. Not just me—even Senior Sister Feyn’s cheeks flushed faintly. This time, *she* wasn’t in control. She was forced into this embrace.

Why? Simple: we had to hold each other to teleport!

The world spun.

We landed in a desolate jungle clearing.

Feyn, experiencing teleportation for the first time, swayed unsteadily. I tightened my arms around her waist, pressing my abdomen to hers to steady her.

"Hnn…" Unaccustomed to being held, she gently pushed me away, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Hmph. Teleporting… isn’t exactly pleasant."

She strode to a cliff edge ahead, gazing into the distance. "Beyond this lies Beiruit Village. Tomorrow, they’ll burn the witch Esther at the stake at the village gates."

"Let’s infiltrate first and gather intel. Priority one: find Leona," I said.

Rescuing Esther was our mission. No waves of Undercity monsters or towering demons this time—just the two of us.

Our strength was more than enough for a backwater village and its petty lord. Feyn passed as human, and I looked identical to one. Disguised as mercenary sisters, even if I saved Esther, villagers would assume she’d hired us. No trace would lead back to the Undercity—avoiding a direct clash with the Human Empire.

We descended the mountain and left the jungle.

Matching enchanted earrings glinted on our ears, linking us to the Undercity.

But we’d arrived via a one-time goblin-marked teleport circle. On the surface, I couldn’t teleport freely or return directly. Our escape route required pre-set circles or finding an Undercity entrance.

Beiruit Village seemed unnervingly normal. Villagers tended chickens and pigs, working fields as if nothing were amiss. No tension hung in the air—despite tomorrow’s execution.

Except for the charred black stake standing at the village entrance.

"Blind to cruelty. Ignorant fools," I muttered.

"Where’s Esther imprisoned?" Feyn whispered.

"Follow me." Lodis had already mapped every inch of this place.

As we slipped down a narrow alley, a tiny green goblin peeked from a shadowed corner, beady eyes fixed on us. One of Lodis’s spies. I ignored it—it wouldn’t recognize me.

We reached the village square. In its center stood a crude wooden cage. Inside, under the harsh noon sun, a silver-haired woman with an elegant, willowy frame sat in tattered clothes.

We watched from the market’s shadows. Two Redfang Castle soldiers in crimson uniforms guarded the cage. Nearby, outside a tavern, another squad drank noisily. A burly, armored officer with a thick beard commanded them.

"That must be Esther," Feyn murmured, her voice thick with pity as she studied the woman’s detached gaze and bruised, yet still-beautiful face.

To me, Esther didn’t look like a witch condemned for spreading chaos. She resembled a saint’s daughter, serene in her acceptance of a cruel world.

"We can’t rescue her here," I said.

Feyn nodded. "I pray they won’t torture her again today."

Suddenly, both of us sensed a sharp, focused energy from a nearby ruin.

"Hm?"

Behind a crumbling wall, a red-haired girl in light crimson armor stood exposed, her pale midriff bare. She gripped a longsword and small shield, eyes burning with sorrow as they fixed on the caged woman. Her chest heaved. Seeing Esther’s battered body, her sorrow hardened into fury.

"Esther… sister," she whispered fiercely. "This is my last chance to save you. Tomorrow, when Redfang’s lord arrives with High Knight Barlog… all hope dies. How foolish I was to trust demons! Esther… even if I can’t free you, I’ll join you…"

Her gaze flicked to the drinking soldiers—especially the towering armored officer. Worry flashed across her face. Then, jaw clenched, she lunged forward!