A Salamander, but Mighty

POV: Helen

She was not happy with what had happened inside the dungeon, not only did she feel as if her generosity had been exploited, but she had also given in to the request to give a minimum advantage to Luchael and Aradra, the name that Nightmare Tyrant was using that moment. She would let the two leave the city before reporting the matter, from then on the adventurers guild would withdraw Luchael's credentials for helping an evil creature continue on its dark path and then the hunt for the salmadrer would be expanded to all the kingdom of Topaz and beyond.

Helen was not really sorry about the fate that would befall the leporan and his false friend; he was aiding an evil creature in conquering and bringing ruin to the Eastern Continent, no matter how cute she found the leporans, if they collaborated with Evil, they were their enemies.

By the time it took Helen to reach Gornowayl Temple, sunset was almost there. The sky had a pleasant orange tint and in front of the temple there were some sisters wearing the usual religious clothes. They were engaged in a friendly discussion about what from a distance seemed to Helen to be nothing more than a simple chat about what happened during the day.

Given her irritation, Helen would have more than willingly continued on, if not for the fact that one of the sisters locked eyes with her, smiling and waving a hand to invite her to come closer. “Helen! You are back! How did it go at Sleepy Swamp?”

Well, that was one of the reasons why she would have preferred to keep going. “It went as it should,” she replied vaguely before stopping her steps near the small group, “hello you all.”

The girls waved back, “so… how did it go with the leporan? Is he opening up a little?”

Helen rolled her eyes, “I wasn't hitting on him,” she grumbled, puffing out her cheeks.

“Uh no?” One of the girls said, smiling and giving her an eloquent look.

Helen remained tight-lipped for a few seconds, “anyway, he's leaving,” she said, shrugging, “sorry, but I'm a little tired… do you mind if I step away?”

“No problem… oh!” One of the girls snapped her fingers and straightened her shoulders, “the mother superior said that you have to show up at the Meeting Room… you're lucky, not everyone gets to meet the god!”

Helen was dumbfounded: did Gornowayl want to talk to her? Why? Had he perhaps seen what had happened in the dungeon and judged her actions as inadequate for the ideals of the God of Heroes? Rather than seem excited by the prospect, the human girl made no secret of her discomfort.

“You don't seem happy,” said the first girl who spoke to her, “is there something wrong?”

Helen raised her hands in mid-air, flapping her palms a few times, “n-no! Nothing!" She lowered her arms, “maybe it's best if I prepare myself before meeting the god. See you later or tomorrow, sisters!”

Soon, Helen reached the little cell she occupied from time to time when she had no time or inclination to return home; She retrieved the red and white maid's uniform that was in use in all the temples of the continent from the chest of her belongings, placed it on the cot and began to undress. She took off her chainmail and the padded dress she wore underneath to avoid chafing with the metal and huffed as she massaged her breasts, she was a D cup size, and it was something she hated since a shapely breasts were an impediment in combat on the front line. They had advised her to increase her Strength points since that would help reduce the bulk of her breasts a bit, but all she had achieved was to sculpt her pear-shaped body, making it leaner and more defined, athletic.

In short, she hadn't lost a single breast size, and in exchange she had gained a round and firm butt. Many women would have celebrated these results, but many women did not want to get their hands dirty fighting on the front line against monsters...

“Gods, I really want to take a bath,” she said to herself, taking off her pants, “I'll do it later, hoping I don't get kicked out of the temple right away.”

She quickly put on the religious clothes with a sigh, put the cap on her head, closed the corset around her waist and after a quick pass to fix the ruffled skirt that fell to just below her knees she headed out of her cell. The sound of short 35mm heels rang through the corridors of the temple until it reached the door of the Meeting Chamber. She stopped for a few moments in front of the door, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pushed the door open, crossing the threshold shortly after.

She found herself in a splendid room, so large that it didn't even seem like part of the temple itself. The click of her heels echoed throughout the white room, with large mosaic windows through which eternal daylight entered. The high vaulted roof made you feel dizzy when looked at, but the most important thing was the throne on the other side of the room.

Sitting on it was a man Helen could describe as nothing other than extraordinarily handsome: he was tall, with long, straight blond hair that fell partly to his muscular shoulders. The God of Heroes was shirtless and legs spread, with his large, strong hands resting lazily on the arms of his throne.

Helen had no problem looking at him without even the slightest hint of blushing, such masculine men were not her type… heck, we could say that her type were men who could easily pass for women… if not actual women.

“My lord,” she said, bending one knee to the ground and pressing her palms to the smooth floor, “your humble servant is here to serve.”

Gornowayl nodded a few times, stood up and puffed out his chest as he took a deep breath, his expression incredibly serious.

“Abdominal and thigh!” He exclaimed, raising his hands behind his head, “get up, mortal! I have followed your actions in the dungeon and must speak to you about your conduct!”

Well, I knew it, Helen thought bitterly and without getting up, “I am ready to receive your judgement, my lord.”

Gornowayl laughed, “relax, your actions were right and I summoned you here not for your past, but for your future.” The god approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders and making her stand up forcibly, "I have a task for you, I trust that you will accept it promptly."

“I'm ready,” Helen said without any hesitation, “what is thy bidding, my master?”

"Oh!" Gornowayl looked surprised, “finally a mortal who doesn't ask questions! Very good: I want you to join the leporan called Luchael and the monster you call Nightmare Tyrant and accompany them wherever they go.”

Now it was Helen's turn to be surprised: had he not called her to punish her for allowing an evil creature to escape from the dungeon but to order her to follow it and work for it? The surprise in her case must have been terribly visible, for Gornowayl noticed it.

“Have you changed your mind already?” Gornowayl frowned.

“N-no! Any wish of yours is an order to this humble servant!” She replied, stiffening her shoulders, “it's just… why are you ordering me to help Nightmare Tyrant?”

The god rolled his eyes, “I spoke too soon: you ask questions, just like all mortals.” He snorted, “I can only tell you that the creature called Nightmare Tyrant works for me, not to destroy the world, but to protect its order and security. Side chest!” He concluded by turning slightly onto his side, with his leg bent and his arm muscles tense.

Helen was confused… how could the God of Heroes have Nightmare Tyrant under his wing? It seemed like a contradiction that was difficult to reconcile, but she bowed her head, “if this is your will, so be it.”

"And your family? Your adventure companions?”

“I'll write a letter, your orders come first… I just have one question,” Helen looked up at Gornowayl's hunter's gaze, “is Nightmare Tyrant… Nightmare Tyrant?”

The god narrowed his eyes, “follow your own judgment, mortal,” he said cryptically. “before you go, I have decided to promote you.”

Helen wanted to protest that Gornowayl's answer wasn't really an answer, but no mortal has ever had this much leverage over a deity. She blew the air out of her lungs and bowed her head, “Thank you, my lord.”

Gornowayl nodded and reached out with his right hand and placed it on Helen's head; the girl felt the divine power pass from Gornowayl's hand to her, and from her to her maid's dress: she felt it charge with mystical energy and give her a sudden sense of security and protection that no mail armor or shield had ever given her. Her dress had been upgraded like that of a High Sister, and was now more comfortable than armor and more protective than any metal breastplate.

“Now go, maybe you even have time to talk to your family in person before you have to leave,” Gornowayl turned with his back to the mortal, then clenched his fists at his sides, “back lat spread!”

Confused and full of questions, Helen bowed her head once more and stepped back respectfully without showing her back to Gornowayl. She had a few thoughts to process regarding what happened that day.

- - -

POV: Tamara

Tomorrow at dawn they would leave, the Gornowayl templar had given them time to gain some small advantage before telling what had happened in the dungeon, making her a sort of fugitive and depriving Luchael of his hopes of becoming a great adventurer. Tamara was left alone in the room of the squalid inn, the universe was still busy trying to make her life as difficult as possible, but unlike the desperation she had felt in the first days of her new existence, she now felt something deeper: she was angry, the kind of anger a beast feels when cornered and with no way to escape.

I'll survive, I'll survive and I'll show them! They'll see! Everyone! She thought, lost in the turmoil of her darkest feelings.

“T-Tam?”

The voice of the guardian spirit was enough to drag Tamara out of her vicious circle of thoughts, her anger replaced by joy, “Velen! Oh, Velen! For a moment I thought I would never see you again!” Tamara felt the desire to hug her, although this was not physically possible since Velen did not have a real body.

“I'm happy too! Thinking of you alone in Sleepy Swamp was keeping me from focusing on anything else!” The guardian spirit said, “you have… you have become strong, and in such a short time… your eyes are the most different thing about you: you no longer have the eyes of prey.”

“That's because I'm no longer prey, I've stopped running, now it's the others who have to run,” replied Tamara who didn't smile sinisterly just because she didn't have an adequate mouth to do so, “it's just that…” Tamara bowed her head, “I don't know if you're following Luchael, but we're leaving, we're leaving this place.”

For a minute, neither of them said anything else.

“It's o-okay,” Velen finally said, “I knew this day would come, I just didn't think it would be so soon. Listen, I talked to the God of Heroes and he asked me if you would be willing to pretend to be Nightmare Tyrant.”

“I think the universe has already decided this for me,” whispered Tamara, bitterly, “if the universe insists on wanting a monster, it will have a monster.”

Velen remained silent, the experience in the dungeon - especially the solitude - and the encounter with the dungeon core had profoundly changed Tamara. In a short time, the girl reincarnated as a monster had developed the character necessary to survive.

“I…I haven't forgotten the promise I made to you. I will free you, Velen, I will return and free you from the chains that hold you,” Tamara said, “I have a lead on how to do it. Do you happen to know someone or something called the Seething Forge?”

Velen's orb of fake light floated gently, perhaps her way of conveying contentment, “thank you Tam, I'm so tired of this existence.” Said the spirit, “unfortunately I have no idea who or what this Seething Forge is, why do you think this thing could help me?”

“I figured so,” Tamara sighed, “It's something the dungeon core told me when I asked about a way to free you, I'll try to get Luchael to look for it."

“You WHAT??” Velen exclaimed.

“Uh?”

“Did you talk to a dungeon core?? How is it possible?? How did you wake it up?? Adventurers rarely get to talk to them!” Velen asked repeatedly, floating right in front of Tamara's face.

Tamara suspected that the event was something rare and assumed that what had awakened it was the nature of her condition as a human soul inside a monster's body, for some reason, her salmadrer instinct suggested her not to say too much about what had happened and what they had talked about, above all, not to talk about [Devourer], and so Tamara did.

“I don't know either, the fact is that it told me about this Seething Forge in the short time I was able to communicate with it,” she pursed her lips, “rather, because this god wants me to claim to be Nightmare Tyrant?”

Velen floated back again, distancing herself, “it seems that a danger is rising to the south and that a deity is pulling its strings from the shadows. He cannot intervene openly since the law of the Divine Court prevents him and he is anything but a subtle and inconspicuous figure... but you on the other hand are part of this world, so the laws of the Divine Court do not apply to you."

If Tamara could, she would have turned up her nose, “well, does he need me to conquer the Eastern Continent since that would be the lesser evil?”

“Yes, in a way it is.”

“Okay, understood,” She pulled away and with a leap aided by the membrane that was growing on the sides of her body, she glided onto the bed, “but I'll free you first, the rest has to wait.”

Velen fluttered close to Tamara again, almost to the point where Tamara felt something, a sort of touch on her head, like an ethereal caress, “Thank you, Tam… I love you,” the guardian spirit whispered.

“If I have reached this day it is also thanks to you. You're my best friend."

The guardian spirit tried to do that sort of caress a few more times before walking - floating - away, “Luchael is coming back,” she muttered dejectedly, “please don't make me wait too long for your return.”

Tamara winked at her, she made no promises, promises are made when you know they can be kept, but encouragement was a valid alternative. Tomorrow at dawn they would leave and from there the hunt for the Seething Forge would begin.