Dungeon of Lust: Managing Otherworldly Beauties

The girl did not know how much time had passed. It had been more than a day. Perhaps two. Perhaps three.

Time had long since lost meaning to her; all that remained was pain.

Pain pulsed through her ankle, sharp and relentless. The gash on her shoulder burned with every shallow breath she took. Scratches covered her body, remnants of the thorned bushes she had dragged herself through. Each movement reopened something. Each breath reminded her...

"Why... why am I still alive?"

She had been moving slowly. Too slowly. Any beast could have taken her. A free meal, barely capable of resistance. A few had come close. Some had even sniffed her, yet none had attacked.

None had ended this suffering.

"Why do even the gods reject me?"

Her thoughts twisted inward, searching for reason.

Was she too broken for them? Too weak to be remade? Had they decided she was not even worth the effort of death? Left instead to crawl forward until her body gave out on its own, until she faded into something lesser; until she became a wraith — a spectre walking the world without a purpose.

But...

If that was her fate, who was she to complain?

"I’m sorry..."

The apology slipped out quietly, barely carried by the wind.

She did not curse those who cast her out. She could not. They had been right. She had failed at everything. She was weak, and weakness deserved consequence.

That was the truth she had always known.

"I’ve been serving you faithfully, Lakon. Take me, please."

Her foot dragged forward, then pushed against the ground again. Another inch. Another meaningless effort.

Eventually, her body gave out before her will did.

Darkness took her.

***

When awareness returned, it did so in fragments.

Sensation came first.

A strange, cool substance pressed carefully against torn skin.

The sound of her own groans reached her ears, followed by a soft and unfamiliar voice.

"Oh, you’re awake..."

A girl with silver hair knelt beside her, placing a lid back onto a small canister. Her expression was gentle.

The Awilix stirred, forcing herself upright despite the protest of her body. Her vision lagged behind her movement, but her instincts did not. She tilted her head slightly fixed in one direction, but...

She smelled the wind.

’N-no.’

She was facing her village.

A weak growl slipped from her throat as she glared at the girl before her.

"Y-you bastard."

Her thoughts fractured, words failing to keep up with the surge of emotion.

’You ruined...’

’You...’

’You changed nothing.’

Her strength collapsed again, cutting off whatever came next.

Darkness reclaimed her.

***

The next time she awoke, everything had changed.

The air smelled different. The ground beneath her was no longer rough earth but something steadier.

Someone supported her, holding their arm around her back as a spoon pressed gently to her lips.

"Ah! You’re awake again!"

Warm liquid touched her tongue — water infused with herbs.

The third-born failure wanted to curse her. To spit the liquid back out. To reject the interference in her death.

But her body betrayed her.

As the strength drained from her again, her head rolled slightly to the side. Her vision steadied just enough to take in the figure beside her.

The girl wore strange clothes. A colorful unorthodox dress that did not belong to the wild. Shoes that curled at the tips, impractical and bizarre.

And she was covered in blood.

More blood than the Awilix herself.

"I’m Selene, by the way... what’s your name?"

The Awilix did not answer immediately.

Her mind drifted, caught between exhaustion and something else she could not define.

Eventually, quietly, she spoke.

"Awilix."

***

Awilix stood alone in the empty meadow. The silence pressed against her as her thoughts churned. Rage simmered beneath the surface, familiar and unwelcome.

It was not directed outward. Not anymore.

She had already taken her revenge. That part of her past had been resolved, or as close to resolved as it would ever be.

No, the anger remained because of something else.

Because of herself.

"That goblin..."

The words came out low, almost bitter.

At the time, she had only been thinking of herself. Herself, and her master. Nothing else had mattered. Nothing else had existed.

That narrow focus had nearly turned her into something she despised.

No. Not nearly.

It had.

She had tried to force the same fate onto Toy that had once been forced onto her. The same fear. The same helplessness. The same crushing inevitability.

’No...’

The truth was worse than that.

It had not been instinct. Not desperation. Not even ignorance.

It had been a choice.

In that moment, she had known exactly what she was doing. She had recognized the pattern. The behavior.

The reflection staring back at her.

She had acted like them.

Like her tribe.

Like her father.

The memory burned fresh in her mind. There was no escaping it. No pretending otherwise. She had taken everything she hated and pushed it onto someone weaker. As if that would make her feel stronger. As if passing on the pain would lessen her own.

"Fucking dumbass... I’m terrible."

Her voice cracked slightly, the insult landing against herself without restraint.

And yet...

Toy had done something she never could.

Toy had not run.

Despite the overwhelming difference in strength, despite knowing the outcome was almost certain, Toy had stood her ground. Not because she believed she could win, but because she had decided to fight anyway.

That resolve...

Awilix exhaled slowly.

She respected it; she envied it.

Because Toy had something Awilix never truly did.

Someone who believed in her.

’Salome.’

A presence that guided, supported, and trusted. A figure that saw weakness and chose to nurture it instead of crushing it.

Selene was something like that, or could have become something like that, but that chance had been stripped away...

Awilix’s fingers curled slightly.

That kind of connection...

She had wanted it. Always. Even now.

"A connection that’s impossible with Vale..."

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Her chest tightened immediately after she thought of him. Her master. The one person who had changed her circumstances. Who had given her something resembling purpose.

He was...

Naive.

Dumb.

Smart.

Innocent.

Kind.

Caring.

Lustful.

Attentive.

Each word came unbidden, forming a picture she could not ignore.

"...Huh?"

Her hand rose to her cheek. It was wet.

Her fingers brushed against it again.

"That’s weird..."

She had already cried for Selene. Exhausted herself of those tears long ago. There was nothing left tied to that memory that could still break her.

So why now?

Why were her eyes stinging again? Why were the tears falling without her noticing when they began?

Her breathing slowed as realization settled in.

These tears...

They were not for Selene.

"...Ah, fuck. Seriously?"

She wiped at her face quickly, but it did nothing. More followed. Unrelenting.

’Vale.’

There was a truth she had always known, even if she refused to acknowledge it fully.

She wanted him to love her.

Not just care. Not just tolerate. Not just protect.

Love...

And yet...

He did not.

He could not.

Not in the way she wanted.

Not in the way she needed.

Not that she believed he couldn’t love...

’But if he loves, it’s for another.’

The thought cut deeper than she expected.

There had always been a small hope buried somewhere inside her. A fragile, stubborn thing that refused to die. The idea that maybe, somehow, she could reclaim what she had lost.

Or more so, claim something she never had. And that she could find it through him.

But that hope had always been false.

’Especially after what I did...’

Her legs gave out beneath her as she dropped into the grass. She curled in on herself, arms wrapping around her knees. This time, she did not try to stop the tears.

There was no point.

She had already made her mistake. With Toy. With him. With herself.

Vale didn’t hate her. She knew that.

But there was distance now. A subtle shift she could not undo.

"I’m sorry..."

The words pressed into her knees as she buried her face against them.

He had clear priorities. Ones she had chosen to ignore because acknowledging them hurt.

"Why am I so weak?"

The question tore out of her, raw and unfiltered.

Weak in body. Weak in mind. Weak in heart.

Still chained to the past, unable to move forward without dragging everything behind her.

"S-strong..."

Her voice faltered, catching against the tightness in her throat.

"I w-want to be strong."

Not just physically. Not just enough to fight.

She wanted to be strong enough to face herself. Strong enough to accept what she was without breaking, to stand before those who were truly powerful and not look away.

Strong enough to meet Vale’s eyes without feeling inferior and guilty.

The thought tarried. Then shattered.

A sudden glow flared nearby, cutting through the moment. A sphere of light expanded, distorting the surrounding space before collapsing inward.

A figure stepped out.

’N-no! Not right now!’

Awilix moved quickly, wiping at her face, forcing her breathing to steady. Her hands pressed against her cheeks, as if she could erase the evidence entirely.

’Why now?!’

She turned sharply, voice rising as she faced him.

"Oh! Dumbass, why did you have to show up now?"

’Why?’

’Why...?’

Her body shifted as she rolled away slightly, angling herself so he could not see her clearly.

So he would not see her face.

So he would not see her weakness.