'Desirability is not power. A woman's poise is.'

Why am I remembering my mentor's words now?

The plan was simple: Erik turned invisible and scouted ahead for the monsters, Henry and his group would lure or corner them, and Rabecca would kill them, in one shot, with 'Ice III.' To maximize her profit in the shortest time, she opted to suffer the spell's feedback damage and actively exterminate. Existing as insurance against ambushes, passively waiting on the men to do the slaying, would take weeks for her to earn enough for a contract-breaking fine.

She changed into cheap and disposable robes, to prevent ruin to her new dress. Without the bustier, her breasts bounced freely, her bloodline enhanced it beyond the normal, and the blouse hung off her chest like a waving curtain. She hated it, undoubtedly, the men enjoyed the view. Wearing loose clothes inflicted a feeling of nakedness that her skin-exposing dress did not.

There's a reason I stopped wearing these. Get off on the free show while it lasts, I won't be with you for long.

The plan failed.

Henry suggested a mockery dungeon that he claimed they frequented. It was out-of-the-way, so other adventurers ignored it, and it had time to respawn its population. He knew the layout and numbers, so clearing it should be fast.

Somehow, the dungeon hosted no monsters. The party scoured the corridors, empty room after empty room, and the traps Erik detected were disarmed and stripped of their valuable components. Looting proved pointless. Their group surrounded a hatch, entrance to the dungeon's lower layer.

"I thought you said this would be profitable?"

"You got an attitude problem, woman," Henry spit, "I said: I knew this dungeon. Someone cleared it out first, not our fault. Relax."

Rabecca gnashed her teeth.

"Then, where are the signs?" Erik grunted when he lifted the hatch cover and lowered his lantern. "Even if another party collected every single harvestable part, there should still be hints of combat. Blood, scratches, anything."

Henry and his group looked between each other before Henry shrugged. "How should we know?" His friend's donned the same grimy chainmail, and they wore the same unkempt beards. If she squinted, then she might confuse them for brothers. Their supplier, the only odd man out, stared unblinkingly at her, like a lingering owl in a tree branch.

Her hand covered her mouth to hold back an unexpected gag reflex.

What's wrong with me? I can't get distracted by the past right now.

Erik broke her reverie, "This place is odd enough as it is. We should return to the guild and report this."

Henry lifted his chin, a challenge, to Rabecca. "I thought we came here to earn money? We should at least check the lower level."

There's too little time to move cautiously. Who knows if another woman might catch Lord Walter's and Lady Elin's attention? I've already started to move late.

"Let's not waste the trip."

Erik shot her a glance, "Fine. Give me a little while to scout it solo first, because the first layers monsters might have migrated down there. I'll be taking my time, so don't worry."

,,˙ʎʇᴉlᴉqᴉsᴉʌuI,,

Like a desert mirage, Erik's image shifted away as if he slipped stage curtains. Henry waved through the spot he once stood, unaccustomed to talented scouts, and confirmed Erik climbed down. The silence dragged on while Rabecca stared at the black square hole in the floor.

Realization clicked.

You have to be kidding me. Are these shits for real?

The men behind her, they didn't surround the hatch. The stood, evenly spaced, to block the corridor, like the boy once stood in the barn door. She didn't need to turn to know they studied at her body and not below. She felt their eyes, the hairs on the back of her neck stiffened. The supplier wasn't being weird. He was a bird of prey that swooped in on a cornered mouse, her.

I need to channel my mana slowly. If I chill the room, I'll expose myself.

A rock rattled downstairs. Erik, uncharacteristically careless, must have kicked it. Henry met her eyes and grinned.

Rabecca screamed, "Erik! Get out! It's a trap!"

The hatch cover slammed shut, and it echoed off the stone walls.

"Ice--"

A stick, held by the supplier, smacked her nose, and her head recoiled. Blood trickled down her upper lip. The feedback damage inflicted more pain, so it didn't daze her, but it worked: it dispersed her mana and interrupted the spell. He moved fast. Rabecca figured he anticipated her, hiding the channeling was pointless.

I didn't train for years to lose to a stick!

Fog formed on the ground, and the temperature of the room plummeted. Ice III only required seconds if she incanted it. Henry and his look-alikes panicked, and one turned to flee.

The supplier, his spectacles glinting, struck her face again. "Quickly! She's a mage, gag her! Make sure to depress her tongue!"

They dogpiled her. She kicked and scratched, and, despite one man for each of her limbs, they struggled to subdue her. Unfortunately, heroic breeding only blessed her with a hyper-feminized body, not with their strength, endurance, or resistance. If men wanted her, then she couldn't keep herself to herself. Years of monster-slaying and study meant nothing pinned down. Frost formed on the stone, and she attempted, repeatedly, to incant, but the supplier's stick unerringly thwacked against her face.

Finally, her muscles, burning with exhaustion, yielded despite her drive to keep fighting. They shoved an old rag into her mouth, the stiff threads scratched her lips, and the owl-faced supplier pulled a cloth strip over her clenched teeth from behind. He craned her neck until she yelped, the strip locked the rag in place, and a knot tore strands of hair.

When they wrapped the rope around her wrists, she didn't have any stamina left to resist.

"Holy shit, that was close, she put up a fight."

"Frigid bitch, huh? She really didn't want it. You'd be surprised, considering that robe she's wearing."

The joke elicited a round of chuckles. Rabecca chewed the gag like a rabid dog. You're dead, I'll fucking kill you!

Henry twisted her hair in his hand and lifted her off the ground. She screeched.

He said, "Everyone thinks ole Henry is an idiot. I know I'm not as smart as others, but I have enough wits to get what I want. After all, I'm a golden tagged adventurer, can't get that without some brains. We prepared all this. The dungeon? We destroyed its heart a while ago, ain't no monsters here, and I've been keeping it on the down-low by being drinking buddies with Jorvan. Let's have a conversation about what's going to happen, but first, stop looking at me like that before I smack you one."

He swayed her like a rabbit by the ears, and her scalp burned with agony. She refused to look down, to exhibit submission, so she clenched her eyes shut, instead.

"That's better. You see, adventuring pays well, but not enough. I've got some contacts in Bartgoria, and they want a specific type of merchandise. You can guess what. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Someone will notice our absence,' and I've heard it before. You ain't the first. We pick outsiders. No one's going to investigate, hell, I bet that shitty Master-in-Chief Jorvan is drunk already. Bit of advice? Whichever Bartgorian slaver that buys you? Make sure you're extra nice to him because you don't want him shipping you up north to the Alune Theocracy."

Rabecca's eyes snapped open. He smirked at her reaction, and she raged. It didn't matter if her scalp hurt, pulled hair didn't compare to his threat.

"You know," the supplier said, "Good wholesalers test their products."

More chuckling.

Hands, from all of them, grabbed her robe, and the fabric ripped. She twisted her shoulders, like a snared wild animal. Despite her fantasies, she found no entertainment in this, the same as the first time she suffered it.

A sudden sound ended their laughter. Rebecca recognized it, she heard it dozens of times before: small metal rings cracked and wrenched apart by an unsuspected backstab. The mockeries, monsters with twisted yet familiar appearances to the enlightened races, held similar organ placement, and Erik, the flirty invisible Odinic scout, favored vicious kidney shots.

Henry, overcome with pain, his eyes unfocused, loosed his grip on Rabecca's hair, and she dropped to the ground. She glanced at the hatch, still closed.

He never stepped down in the first place because he saw through their bullshit before I did. I owe him one, shit, several. I'll never get mad at his leering again.

The next second for Erik consisted of several actions, but Rabecca could not describe them as separate. He moved in one continuous natural flow. His free hand shoved Henry's head--Henry flopped to the side--and the dagger he used to backstab Henry whipped through the air--the supplier shrieked as the dagger buried into his thigh. Both his hands empty, Erik tossed two vials from his belt at the remaining two look-alikes, each. One broke, expanded like dough, and stuck the man's arms to his chest, a slime-jelly glue concoction. The other broke on a face, sizzled, and the man screamed, acid raised blisters on the man's cheeks and eyelids.

Sweet Aphrodite, this is what the madman's fighting looks like, up close.

Erik drew his shortsword and casually held it at his side, "My name is Erik, and the only thing I love more than fighting is chasing my enemies down."

The supplier threw away his stick and raised his hands.

When Erik cut her hands free, Rabecca snatched at the gag and said, "All of you, get in that hole. Now!"

They complied. Even Henry, internally bleeding and whimpering, Rabecca sneered at the sight of him, dragged himself through the hatch. The supplier, down in the dark, pulled a healing potion out--

Rabecca wiped her nose clean of blood, and more dribbled out. "Pass that up here, your pack, and everything in it. Rapists don't get healed."

Her hands, frantic and furious, tore through the bag until she collected every potion, and she shoved them in Erik's hands.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

She told the trapped men, "Look up here."

They did, she ripped her ruined robe completely open, and they, afraid and bashful, lowered their heads.

"Look at them, look at my breasts! They're what you risked your lives for, right? So you may as well get one last look! Well? Aren't they nice? Answer me!"

Erik put a hand on her shoulder. "Rabecca--"

She shoved him off and continued to yell at her prisoners, "Didn't you want to grope them, hurt them? Don't want to fuck me, all the sudden? Say you did! Admit it, you pieces of shit! I told you to look at them! Don't look away!"

"No, yes! We did! Please, don't kill us! We're sorry!" Snot and tears poured down the supplier's face.

"Unbelievable. I was almost ravished by someone like you, you two-faced lying piece of shit. Okay, I'll let you live, if you do one little thing for me. Deal?"

Henry roared back, "Tell us what you want, you bitch!"

"Cut off your nose."

"You're crazy!"

"What did you say earlier? 'Make sure you're extra nice to him because you don't want him shipping you up north to the Alune Theocracy?' Which is worse, losing a nose, or that?"

"Fuck it," Henry laughed and then choked on a bubble of blood, "Sell us. We're not a big-tittied bitch, so we don't have to worry. Besides, you practically begged for it. I bet you're wet right now, slut."

Rabecca's darkened expression turned perfectly neutral. She sucked in, then released, one calming breath.

"Don't listen to him!" the supplier sobbed, "Call the constables, please! Turn us in! Just don't leave us down here to die!"

Rabecca stared, and the smell of hay floated around her head.

"Don't worry. I'll make it safe, and eliminate the monsters before I leave."

,,˙III ǝɔI,,