Chapter 12: Relief and Recovery
The root-cave hummed with exhaustion and despair. Bioluminescent fungi painted shifting patterns on the damp walls, casting Suzy’s tear-streaked face in eerie blues and greens. She knelt beside Jack’s ruined form, her hands pressed against the worst of the charred flesh on his chest, the faint white glow of her Minor Healing spell flickering like a dying candle. Each pulse of light sealed a tiny weeping blister, stemmed a trickle of blood, but the effort was monumental. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, her mana reserves utterly depleted. Garret paced like a caged beast, knuckles white on his sword hilt. Thom stood sentinel at the entrance, his shield scarred, face grim. Lyra lay still against the far wall, breathing steadily but deeply unconscious, the powerful healing scroll’s work hidden beneath her repaired leathers.
Yeng watched Suzy’s futile struggle, a detached observer amidst the palpable fear. Her devotion to the broken leader was pathetic, wasteful. He pushed himself up from where he’d been leaning against the cool root wall and walked over, his footsteps soft on the mossy floor. He stopped beside her, casting a long shadow over Jack’s blistered face.
"You're wasting energy," Yeng stated, his voice low but cutting through Suzy’s whispered pleas. "On a corpse."
Suzy flinched, her head snapping up. Her eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, flashed with a spark of defiance quickly drowned by exhaustion. "He’s… he’s not dead! I can… I can save him!" Her voice was a raspy whisper.
Yeng’s gaze remained impassive. He reached into the seemingly ordinary pouch at his belt. His fingers dipped into the spatial storage, bypassing the potent artifacts within, and retrieved a simple scroll case. He pulled out a parchment inscribed with familiar, basic runes – Minor Healing, First Tier. He held it out to her, dangling it casually between his fingers.
"Here. This should help save Jack’s life." His tone was matter-of-fact. Suzy stared at the scroll, then at his face, disbelief warring with desperate hope. "It won’t heal his burnt face," Yeng continued, his green eyes locking onto hers. "But he won’t die. He can heal his face later, after the quest. All he needs to do is go to the Great Church. The cleric there will heal him with holy magic. Jack’s face will be the same again."
The simplicity, the certainty in his words, cut through Suzy’s despair. He wasn’t mocking her now. He was offering tangible hope. Her trembling hand reached out, hesitantly taking the scroll. The cheap parchment felt rough, the magic within faint but real. She looked up at Yeng, truly seeing him for perhaps the first time – not just the annoyingly handsome novice, but someone who, despite his earlier coldness, had just offered salvation. Her perception shifted. He wasn’t a bad person. A wave of profound gratitude washed over her exhaustion.
"Th-thank you," Suzy breathed, her voice thick with sincerity. "Thank you, Yeng." She clutched the scroll tightly, fresh tears welling, but these were different – tears of relief. She didn’t hesitate. Unfurling the scroll, she pressed it against Jack’s chest, focusing her remaining sliver of will. The scroll disintegrated in a soft shower of golden light that sank into Jack’s ravaged body. The effect was immediate and visible. The terrible rasping of his breath eased, becoming deeper, more regular. The weeping blisters sealed over completely, leaving angry red scars but no longer life-threatening leaks. Color, faint but undeniable, returned to his ashen cheeks. He remained unconscious, deeply so, but the terrifying edge of imminent death vanished.
Garret let out a choked sob of relief, slumping against the wall. Thom grunted, a sound of profound approval, finally tearing his eyes from the entrance to glance at Jack, then at Yeng with newfound respect. "Good man," Thom rumbled.
Yeng acknowledged Thom’s nod with a slight incline of his head, his expression carefully neutral. The Iron Rank novice had saved their leader. The Nightmare group’s collective tension eased fractionally, replaced by weary gratitude directed solely at him. Yeng turned away, leaving Suzy murmuring soft reassurances to the stabilized Jack. He walked back to where Lyra slept.
He knelt beside her. Her face was peaceful in sleep, the strain of the wyvern battle smoothed away by the potent healing. Her lips looked dry. Yeng took his canteen, filled his mouth with cool water, letting it warm slightly against his tongue. He leaned down, his lips meeting hers gently. He parted her lips with his own, letting the water spill slowly into her mouth. Lyra stirred faintly, swallowing instinctively, a soft moan escaping her throat as the water soothed her. Yeng lingered for a moment, tasting the faint salt on her lips, before pulling back.
He settled down behind her on the moss, pressing his body against her back. His left arm snaked under her neck, his right draped possessively over her waist. His large hands slid up under her leather tunic, finding the soft swell of her breasts beneath her thin undershirt. He cupped them fully, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over her nipples, feeling them harden instantly against the fabric even in her sleep. He pulled her closer, molding her body against his, his fingers kneading her flesh with a firm, claiming pressure. Lyra murmured incoherently, shifting slightly, pressing her ass back unconsciously against the growing hardness she could feel through his pants. Yeng buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent – leather, sweat, and something uniquely her. He held her like that, groping her sleeping form, until the faintest grey light began to seep through the cave entrance, signaling dawn.
Yeng woke to the soft glow illuminating the cavern. Lyra was no longer pressed against his back. Instead, she lay half-sprawled atop him, her head nestled on his chest, one leg hooked over his thigh. Her hand rested possessively low on his stomach, dangerously close to the prominent bulge tenting his pants. Her breathing was deep and even, her face relaxed in sleep, lips slightly parted. It was an intensely seductive position, her body unconsciously claiming his warmth and strength.
He shifted slightly, his hands still resting on her hips beneath her tunic. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then another to her lips. "It's morning," he murmured against her mouth, his voice husky with sleep. "My yummy, warm, wet, tight mom…"
Lyra stirred slowly. A tremor ran through her body as the memories of the previous night flooded back – the wyvern's roar, the crushing tail, the terror, the impossible salvation. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light. For a heart-stopping moment, panic flared, then dissolved into profound relief as she focused on Yeng’s face above hers, handsome and calm. She felt his hands on her hips, the solid warmth of his body beneath her, the undeniable hardness pressing against her thigh through their clothes. Heat bloomed low in her belly, a confusing mix of maternal comfort and something darker, hotter. She didn't pull away.
"Yeng," she breathed, her voice thick with sleep and residual fear. She pushed herself up slightly, disengaging from the intimate sprawl but staying close, her hand lingering on his chest. "We… we made it."
"Thanks to Jack’s last scroll," Yeng supplied smoothly, sitting up. He gestured towards the other side of the cave where Garret and Thom were already stirring, stretching stiff limbs. Suzy sat vigil beside Jack, who lay still but breathing steadily, the horrific burns now angry scars instead of open wounds. "He’s stable. Thanks to Suzy… and a little help."
Thom clapped Garret on the shoulder. "Boss is tough. He’ll pull through." Garret nodded, relief etched deep on his face as he looked at Jack.
Lyra followed Yeng’s gaze, her professional demeanor snapping back into place despite the lingering warmth where his hands had been. "Right. The quest." She pushed herself fully upright, brushing moss from her leathers. "We need those Drake scales. Jack’s out. Suzy needs to stay with him, keep applying basic healing salves, keep him stable."
Suzy looked up, her eyes flicking nervously from Jack to Yeng. "I… I should stay. He needs me." Her gaze lingered on Yeng for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"Agreed," Lyra said. "Thom, Garret, Yeng, and I will head to Sulfur Falls. Three Level 12 Drakes. We can handle it." Her tone brooked no argument. "Suit up. We move in ten."
The climb towards Sulfur Falls was steep and treacherous, the air thickening with the rotten-egg stench of sulfur. The roar of cascading water grew louder, vibrating through the rock beneath their boots. They moved with practiced stealth, Lyra scouting ahead, blending into the shifting shadows cast by the dense, twisted trees clinging to the cliffside. Thom and Garret followed, weapons ready, expressions grim. Yeng brought up the rear, his posture relaxed but his senses extended through the Omni-System, mapping the terrain, the thermal signatures ahead.
They crested a final rise. Below them, nestled in a bowl-shaped depression fed by a thundering waterfall of milky, sulfurous water, lay the Drake nesting grounds. Steam rose from bubbling pools dotting the rocky floor. Three large, reptilian shapes basked near the water’s edge – Level 12 Forest Drakes. Their hides were moss-green and scaled, powerful muscles rippling as they shifted. Wings, smaller than a Wyvern’s but still formidable, were folded against their backs. One lifted its head, sniffing the air, a low growl rumbling in its chest.
The group crouched behind a thick cluster of thorny bushes overlooking the basin. The roar of the falls masked their whispers.
"Alright," Lyra breathed, her eyes narrowed as she assessed the Drakes. "Standard ambush. Thom, you and Garret draw the attention of the two on the left. Hit hard, make noise. Yeng, you’re with me. We flank the one on the right, take it down quick before the others fully react. Aim for the wing joints first, ground it." She glanced at Yeng. "Think you can handle that, Copper?"
Yeng met her gaze, a faint, knowing smirk touching his lips. "Just try to keep up, Gold." His hand brushed hers as he adjusted his grip on his sword – a deliberate, lingering touch that sent a jolt through her. Her breath hitched. She tore her eyes away, focusing back on the Drakes, but the phantom warmth of his fingers remained.
Thom hefted his warhammer. "Ready when you are, Lyra."
Garret nodded, tightening his grip on his sword and shield. "Let’s bag these lizards."
Lyra took a deep breath, the sulfur stinging her nostrils. Her heart hammered against her ribs, adrenaline mixing with the confusing heat Yeng’s presence always ignited. She signaled silently. Thom and Garret burst from cover with a roar, charging down the slope towards the two Drakes on the left, Thom’s hammer swinging in a devastating arc, Garret’s shield raised.
The Drakes reacted instantly, startled roars echoing off the rocks as they surged to meet the attackers.
"Now!" Lyra hissed. She flowed from the bushes like liquid shadow, daggers gleaming. Yeng was right beside her, a novice stumbling down to unleashed his sword, but his movements swift and silent. They angled towards the third Drake, which had turned its head, distracted by the sudden commotion. Its reptilian eyes widened as it saw the two figures closing fast. It opened its maw, drawing breath for a jet of acidic spit.
Lyra was already diving low, aiming for its vulnerable underbelly. Yeng slow down to dodge the attack. He channeled a sliver of power, invisible to Lyra’s senses, enhancing his speed. He leaped, away from the Drake’s head, his Steelwind sword a still in it sheath aimed precisely at the soft hinge of its jaw, right where the venom sac connected. The hunt was on.
The Drake’s maw gaped wide, a sickly green venom sac pulsing at the back of its throat. Acidic spit gathered, ready to spray Lyra’s diving form. Thom’s bellow and the clash of steel against scales echoed as he engaged the first Drake, Garret’s arrows thudding into the flank of the second. Yeng moved. Not the novice’s fumble, but a controlled blur the others wouldn’t perceive.
His Steelwind blade remained sheathed. In one fluid motion, he swung the heavy scabbard upwards with impossible speed. THWACK! The hardened leather slammed the Drake’s lower jaw shut with bone-jarring force, crushing venom sac and fang against its palate. The monster choked, a gurgling hiss escaping its clamped jaws, its head snapping back from the impact.
Lyra, reacting instantly to the opening Yeng created, was already there. Her daggers, wickedly sharp, flashed in the sulfurous gloom. One plunged deep into the soft scale joint beneath the Drake’s chin, angled up into its brain. The other followed, severing its spine at the base of the skull. The creature collapsed, lifeless, before it could comprehend the attack.
The remaining Drakes, enraged by their kin’s sudden death and Thom and Garret’s assault, turned with furious hisses. One lunged at Lyra and Yeng, the other reinforcing the attack on Thom, forcing Garret to dodge a viscous spit glob that sizzled on the rocks.
“Get the Emberroot, Yeng! Now!” Lyra barked, already spinning to meet the charging Drake. Her voice held command, but beneath it, a thread of protective urgency – get the novice away from the jaws.
Yeng stumbled backwards, playing his part perfectly. “R-right!” He scrambled away from the fray, making a show of tripping over loose rocks towards a cluster of crimson, glowing herbs nestled near a steaming fissure – the Emberroot. He knelt clumsily, fingers fumbling at the tough stems.
Lyra became a whirlwind of steel and shadow against the Drake. She rolled under a claw swipe, came up slashing its underbelly, flipped backwards over a sweeping tail that cracked the stone where she’d stood. Thom grunted, shield raised high, deflecting another spit blast that hissed and popped against the metal. He drove forward, hammer slamming into the Drake’s shoulder, staggering it. Garret, breathing hard, nocked another arrow, dashing sideways to find a clear shot, his previous shafts jutting from the creature’s hide. Their attacks lacked coordination – Thom’s heavy hits, Garret’s desperate shots, Lyra’s acrobatic fury – but they were chipping away, drawing blood, snapping scales.
Yeng watched them from the corner of his eye as he finally tore the Emberroot free, roots and all. He made no move to help. He simply stood, clutching the herbs, a picture of useless, wide-eyed awe as the battle raged. Thom landed another solid blow, cracking a wing joint. Garret’s arrow found the other Drake’s eye socket. Lyra finished her opponent with a brutal stab through the roof of its open mouth. Moments later, Thom’s warhammer caved in the skull of the last Drake. Silence descended, broken only by heavy breathing and the steaming waterfalls.
Thom and Garret immediately moved to the carcasses, pulling knives to harvest scales, claws, and usable venom sacs. Lyra didn’t pause. She sprinted past them, straight to Yeng. Her hand, slick with Drake blood, shot out and cupped his cheek. Her touch wasn’t motherly. It was intense, searching, her thumb brushing his jawline. Her eyes, wide with adrenaline and something else, scanned his face. “Are you hurt? My little boy… are you okay?” The endearment sounded raw, possessive.
Yeng smiled, warm and reassuring, the perfect son. “I’m unharmed, Mom. Thanks to you.”
---
The walk back to the root-cave was tense but uneventful. Suzy looked up instantly as they entered, her eyes red-rimmed but hopeful. They brightened further when she saw Yeng. “You got it!” she breathed, taking the bundled Emberroot from Lyra. “Thank the gods.” She barely glanced at Thom depositing the harvested Drake scales.
Lyra gave a curt report. “Drakes are down. Scales collected. Emberroot secured.” She gestured to Yeng. “He got the herbs without a scratch.”
Suzy’s gaze lingered on Yeng, a softness replacing her usual reserve around him. Without hesitation, she stepped close, her small hand reaching out and grabbing his much larger one. “Are you alright, Yeng? Really?” The touch was warm, trusting.
Yeng nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles. “Fine. Jack?”
“Stable,” she murmured, her eyes holding his a fraction too long before turning back to Jack. A genuine, grateful smile touched her lips, meant solely for Yeng.
The discussion of moving Jack began. Lyra took charge. “Yeng carries Jack. He’s the least combat-capable, needs to be protected. Suzy, support him, manage Jack. I’ll take point. Thom, Garret, rear guard.” Her logic was sound, positioning Yeng in the safest spot. They agreed.
Thom and Garret carefully helped maneuver Jack’s unconscious, heavily bandaged form onto Yeng’s back. He grunted convincingly under the weight. As Suzy adjusted Jack’s arm over Yeng’s shoulder, her hip brushed against him. A faint scent of sweat and herbs clung to her. Yeng’s Omni-System pulsed, seizing the proximity.
<< Omni-System: Target Analysis - Suzy Silverheart >>
Affiliation: Adventurer Guild - Silver Rank. Party: Nightmare.
Class: Divine Healer (Level 12).
Reputation: Reliable, Skilled (Healing), Shy, Loyal (To Jack).
Stats: 8 STR/AGI, 13 WIS/INT, 9 CONS. Mana Pool: Depleted (Recovering).
Skills: Minor Healing, Cure Light Wounds, Purify (Water), Basic Herbalism.
Sexual History: Partners: (wanting Jack possible Yeng now). Intercourse Count: 0 . Oral/Vaginal. Virgin.
Kinks/Fantasies: Submissive tendencies. Secret desire for forceful dominance masked by shyness. Fantasy of being taken by a powerful men (repressed). Big dick, long fuck. Deepest Fantasy: Being worshipped physically while helpless.
Deepest Secret: Feels trapped by her devotion to Jack; resents his lack of attention, craves validation.
Difficulty: 5 (Emotionally vulnerable, seeking affirmation, physically drawn to User). Rapport established through perceived kindness and reliability. Suppressed desires highly susceptible to dominance displays. Recommend gentle domination paired with validation. Is loyal to Jack but is very easy to seduce and make her betray her men, even after she is married later on having on 5 in difficulty she will easily succumb to seduction and will fuck other men behind her husband’s back.
The data stream vanished as quickly as it appeared. Suzy adjusted Jack’s bandages, oblivious to the intimate invasion. Yeng’s arm tightened under Jack’s leg, his knuckles brushing the curve of Suzy’s ass through her robes as he shifted his grip. She didn’t pull away, a faint flush rising on her neck.
Lyra watched, her own gaze lingering on Yeng’s strong back as he took Jack’s weight, then flicking to Suzy’s proximity. A muscle ticked in her jaw. “Move out,” she ordered, her voice tight, and turned towards the cave entrance, plunging into the gloom.
---
The journey back was slow, burdened by Jack’s dead weight.
Lyra leaned against the root wall, breathing deeply, her eyes closed. The adrenaline crash was hitting hard, mingling with the confusing heat that coiled low in her belly whenever Yeng was near, amplified now by the sight of him carrying Jack’s bulk, the play of muscle under his tunic. She felt raw, exposed.
Yeng deposited Jack gently onto his bedroll near the wall, Suzy fluttering beside him. He straightened, his green eyes sweeping the cave. They met Lyra’s. He didn’t move towards her. Instead, he walked towards Suzy, who was kneeling beside Jack, dabbing his scarred forehead with a damp cloth.
Yeng knelt beside her. His voice was low, for her ears only, a velvety murmur that cut through her focus. "You're exhausted, Suzy. Burning yourself out on him." His hand rested lightly on her thigh, just above her knee. She flinched but didn't pull away, her breath catching. "Look at him. A husk. You pour your life into a corpse." His fingers slid higher, tracing the inseam of her trousers. "Such devotion wasted."
Suzy trembled, her gaze fixed on Jack’s ruined face, but her body leaned infinitesimally into Yeng’s touch. "H-he needs me..." she whispered.
"He needs a healer at the Guild," Yeng countered, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her inner thigh. "Not this martyrdom. Look at Lyra." He nudged her chin gently, forcing Suzy to look across the cave to where Lyra stood watching them, her own breathing shallow, her own leathers clinging to sweat-damp skin. "See how a real woman holds her strength? Even after the fight." His hand slid from Suzy’s chin, down her arm, and took her wrist. His grip was firm, unyielding. "Go on. Taste her. Taste what a powerful woman feels like."
Suzy gasped as he guided her hand, unresisting, towards Lyra. Her fingers brushed the worn leather over Lyra’s hip. Lyra didn't move, frozen, her eyes wide, pupils dilated in the low light. Yeng’s other hand pressed against the small of Suzy’s back, pushing her forward until she was kneeling awkwardly before Lyra, her face level with Lyra’s leather-clad crotch. The scent of Lyra – sweat, leather, the faint metallic tang of Drake blood, and something muskier, primal – filled Suzy’s nostrils.
"Taste her," Yeng commanded softly, his voice thick with dark amusement and something hotter. Suzy whimpered, a sound lost in the cave's hum. Hesitantly, driven by Yeng’s insistent pressure, the confusing arousal twisting her insides, and the raw, overwhelming presence of Lyra, she leaned forward. Her tongue, small and pink, darted out tentatively, licking the crease where Lyra’s thigh met the rough leather of her pants.
A low, guttural moan tore from Lyra’s throat. Her head fell back against the root wall, her eyes squeezing shut. Her hands, which had been clenched at her sides, flew up, not to push Suzy away, but to tangle in the young healer’s hair. She pulled Suzy’s face closer, grinding herself against the tentative tongue.
"Oh, fuck," Lyra gasped, her voice choked. "Yesss... there." She bucked her hips, forcing more pressure. Suzy, startled, moaned softly against the leather, the vibration making Lyra cry out again. Suzy’s own free hand, trembling, rose to fumble with the buckle of Lyra’s belt.
Yeng watched, a predatory stillness settling over him. He stood slightly behind Suzy, his own arousal a heavy ache. One hand remained possessively on Suzy’s hip, holding her in place as she serviced Lyra. The other drifted to his own belt, slowly unbuckling it. His gaze was fixed on Lyra’s face, her ecstasy, her surrender. He saw the moment her eyes flew open, locking onto him over Suzy’s head, burning with a need that mirrored the fire in his own veins. Her mouth formed a silent word: Now.
He freed his cock, thick and already leaking, the heavy length springing free, glistening in the fungal light. He didn’t touch Suzy. With deliberate slowness, he stepped around the kneeling healer, his tip brushing Lyra’s leather-clad stomach as he positioned himself. Lyra’s hands in Suzy’s hair tightened, pulling the younger woman’s face harder against her as she stared, hypnotized, at Yeng’s cock. Her free hand scrabbled at her own pants, yanking them down just enough to expose the dark thatch of curls and the glistening pink lips beneath, already flushed and swollen. Her thighs glistened with Suzy’s saliva and her own slick arousal.
"Inside," Lyra commanded, the word a ragged gasp. "Fuck me, Yeng. Now. Hard."
Yeng didn’t need asking twice. He gripped his cock at the base, the thick, hot head slick with pre-come. He guided it through the wet mess Suzy had made of Lyra’s folds, the tip catching on her entrance, slick and impossibly hot. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in Lyra’s grasping cunt.
"FUCK!" Lyra screamed, the sound raw and echoing. Her back arched violently off the root wall, her cunt clenching like a vice around Yeng’s invading cock. Suzy was crushed between them, Lyra’s hips grinding against her face, Yeng’s thighs pressing against her back. The older woman’s taste – musky, salty, intensely female – flooded Suzy’s senses as Lyra rode her face. Yeng pulled back, the drag exquisitely tight, then slammed forward again, his balls slapping against Suzy’s cheek.
He set a brutal pace, no finesse, just deep, driving thrusts that hammered Lyra against the unyielding roots. Each slam forced a choked cry from Lyra and drove Suzy’s face harder into Lyra’s pussy. Lyra’s cries were a continuous, escalating litany: "Yes! Oh gods! Fuck! Harder! Deeper! RUIN ME!" Her hands were claws in Suzy’s hair, holding her in place as she fucked the young healer’s mouth with her cunt. Suzy moaned, the vibration sending fresh tremors through Lyra. Suzy’s own hand snaked between her own legs, frantically rubbing at her clothed mound, soaked through.
Yeng watched it all, the obscene tableau – the mother’s abandon, the healer’s submission, the raw carnality. He gripped Lyra’s hips, fingers digging into the leather, using her body for his own release. The tight, wet heat of her was incredible, the sounds she made driving him wild. He felt the familiar coiling tension deep in his balls. He thrust harder, faster, pistoning into Lyra’s willing cunt, the wet slap of flesh echoing in the cave, mingling with Lyra’s screams and Suzy’s muffled moans. He looked down, seeing Suzy’s wide, dazed eyes peeking out from between Lyra’s bucking thighs, watching his cock disappear into the slick, stretched flesh.
"Gonna fill you, Mom," Yeng growled, his voice thick with lust, each word punctuated by a deep thrust. "Fill your fucking cunt." His control frayed. The pressure built, unstoppable.
"DO IT!" Lyra shrieked, her body locking up. "CUM IN ME!"
Yeng roared, a guttural sound of pure release. He slammed home one last time, hilt-deep, and erupted. Thick, hot ropes of come pulsed deep inside her clutching channel, flooding her. Lyra convulsed, her own orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her scream dissolving into a high-pitched whine as she ground down on both his cock and Suzy’s face.
He held himself buried to the root, spilling into her throbbing depths, feeling her cunt milk him dry. Suzy trembled violently between them, her own climax hitting silently as she pressed her soaked crotch against her hand.
The cave descended into heavy silence, broken only by ragged breathing and the slick sound as Yeng slowly pulled his softening cock from Lyra’s well-used pussy, a river of come already leaking down her trembling thighs. Lyra slumped, boneless, against the root wall, her eyes glazed, a blissed-out smile on her lips. Suzy collapsed backwards onto the moss, gasping, her face glistening, her robes soaked between her