Garth's groan mixed with Borris and Sten's grunts as the three men reached their climax together. Their cocks pulsed, aimed at Myst's upturned face. But instead of coating her features, their release vanished the moment it touched her skin, absorbed by her mysterious power. The purple tattoo above her panty line glowed faintly with each absorption.

"Damn." Garth muttered, tucking himself back into his trousers. "Was hoping to see you properly decorated for once." He shook his head in disappointment. "Just isn't the same when it all disappears like that."

Myst wiped her face with the back of her hand, more out of habit than necessity since there wasn't anything to clean up. The familiar warmth spread through her body as she processed their essence. She was getting used to the sensation now, though she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Sorry to disappoint." she said, rising from her knees. Her dress had thankfully stayed relatively clean during their little session. "But I don't control how my power works."

"No complaints here." Sten said. "A mouth's a mouth, magic or not."

"Real poetic, Sten." Borris chuckled, adjusting his belt. He glanced at Myst with what might have been concern. "You alright there?"

Myst nodded, smoothing down her dress. It wasn't ideal, servicing these three men daily, but she'd made her peace with it for now. The arrangement was temporary, just until they reached their destination. Besides, it could be worse, they weren't particularly rough with her, and it didn't make a mess.

"I'm fine." she assured them, trying to ignore how easily the words came now. A week ago, she would have been mortified by what she'd just done. Now it was becoming routine, just another part of her strange new life in this world.

Garth stretched, his armour creaking. "Well, that's our morning constitutional taken care of." He grinned at his own joke. "Better get moving if we want to make good time today."

As the men gathered their gear and prepared to break camp, Myst found herself lost in thought. She wasn't exactly enjoying these encounters, but she wasn't hating them either. It had become transactional in a way, they got their release, she got her protection, and everyone pretended it was perfectly normal. Maybe she was adapting too well to this world's strange morality, but for now, it seemed the path of least resistance.

She touched her tattoo absently, feeling the residual warmth of their combined essence still settling into her core. Just a means to an end, she reminded herself. Just until she found Jonathan.

After they had packed up camp, the group moved along the road to the Dread Tower in relative silence, forrin feat crunching on loose gravel. The whole countryside was equally quiet, an eerie atmosphere that Garth hadn't seen in these parts since the war. They'd passed three abandoned villages in as many days, each one bearing the tell-tale signs of Brute Legion activity, splintered doors, ransacked homes, and the occasional dark stain that Myst tried not to think too hard about.

"Another one up ahead." Borris called out, pointing to a cluster of buildings visible through the tree line. Smoke rose from what remained of the thatched roofs, though the fires that caused it had long since died out.

Garth adjusted his war hammer, eyes scanning the surroundings. "Keep alert. Legion's been through here recently."

Myst hugged herself as they passed through the village's broken gate. Personal belongings littered the muddy street, a child's doll, an overturned cart still half-loaded with vegetables now rotting in the sun, a woman's shawl caught on a fence post.

"Where do you think everyone went?" she asked quietly.

"If they were lucky, they ran before the Brutes arrived." Sten replied, his usual lecherous demeanour subdued. "If not..." He didn't finish the thought.

"Heartland's not far now," Garth said, changing the subject. "Another day or two at most. Then it's just a matter of turning East to the Dread Tower."

They picked their way through the village quickly, no one wanting to linger in the ghost town. Myst found herself riding closer to the others, even if they weren't exactly the best of companions. Out here, with the evidence of the Brute Legion's brutality all around them, even their dubious protection felt better than nothing.

A massive armoured figure stepped onto the road ahead of them, his elaborate plate mail looked familiar to Garth. Two hulking brutes flanked him, their tusked faces twisted in permanent snarls. The central figure raised a gauntleted hand.

"Halt." His voice was deep but controlled, echoing slightly within his helmet.

Garth's hand went to his war hammer while Borris and Sten drew swords. Myst's heart pounded as she gripped her forrin's reins tighter, ready to bolt if needed.

"Well, well." Garth's voice carried a note of recognition. "If it isn't Commander Rike himself."

The armoured figure inclined his head slightly. "Captain Garth. I didn't expect to find you on these roads." He paused, studying their group. "Though perhaps I should have. Many former soldiers have taken to alternative employment since the Empire's fall."

"Times change." Garth's grip on his hammer didn't loosen. "We're just passing through. No need for trouble."

"Indeed." Rike's posture remained rigid. "However, I'm afraid I must make a rather uncomfortable request." He gestured to Myst. "The Brute Legion requires tribute from travellers in these lands. Specifically, we are collecting women. Especially those with sorcerer marks." Rike pointed to Myst's mark glowing beneath her dress. Myst felt her blood run cold.

"Come now, Rike." Garth's voice hardened. "You're a man of honour, taking slaves isn't your style."

"But capturing sorcerers is." The former Inquisitor's helmet turned slightly toward his brute companions. "The Legion has its requirements, and I have my orders."

"She's under our protection." Borris spoke up, his sword edge catching what little sunlight filtered through the clouds.

"And we're not looking for a fight," Sten added, "but we'll give you one if you push this."

Rike's armoured shoulders rose and fell in what might have been a sigh. "Neither am I. But I'm afraid I must insist. The woman comes with us, or there will be battle."

The two brutes beside him shifted their weight, massive muscles rippling beneath their crude armour. Their hands rested on enormous weapons that looked more like slabs of metal than proper blades.

"Surely we can come to some arrangement." Garth's voice had taken on a calculating tone. "The Legion always appreciated crowns in the old days."

"This isn't about money." Rike's helmet shook slowly. "I'll ask once more, officially. Surrender the woman, and you may continue on your way unmolested. Refuse, and I cannot guarantee anyone's safety."

The air grew thick with tension as both sides waited for someone to make the first move. Myst's fingers trembled on her reins, her mount sensing her anxiety and pawing at the ground nervously. She knew she should feel grateful that Garth and his men were willing to defend her, but all she could focus on was the growing certainty that this situation was about to turn very ugly, very quickly.

The larger of the two brutes let out a frustrated growl, apparently tired of the diplomatic approach. Without waiting for Rike's command, he charged forward, massive blade raised high.

"Damn it!" Garth swung his war hammer to intercept, but Rike was already moving, his halberd forcing Garth to defend himself instead.

Sten and Borris rushed to meet the charging brute, but the second one flanked them immediately. The clash of steel rang out as four blades met, but the difference in strength was immediately apparent. The brutes' raw power sent both men stumbling backward, their boots sliding in the mud.

Myst's forrin reared in panic, nearly throwing her. Before she could steady herself, a massive hand grabbed the front of her dress, lifting her clean off the saddle. She found herself face to face with the first brute, his tusked mouth twisted in a leering grin. His long tongue slithered out, dragging a wet stripe up her cheek.

"Pretty little thing." he rumbled, his breath hot and rancid.

Disgust and fury surged through Myst. Without thinking, she balled her fist and swung, connecting solidly with the brute's jaw. To everyone's shock, including her own, the brute's eyes rolled back in his head. His grip on her dress went slack as he toppled backward like a felled tree, landing with an earth-shaking thud.

Myst landed on her feet, staring at her hand in disbelief. The warmth that had been building in her core over the past days suddenly made sense, all that absorbed essence hadn't just disappeared, it had been making her stronger.

A pained cry snapped her attention to where Sten and Borris were being overwhelmed. The remaining brute had Borris pinned against a damaged wall, massive blade pressing dangerously close to his throat. Sten lay in the mud nearby, clutching his side.

Moving with speed she didn't know she possessed, Myst sprinted forward. The brute turned at the sound of her approach, but too late. Her fist connected with his stomach, doubling him over. A second punch to his temple dropped him beside his unconscious companion.

"Holy shit." Borris gasped, sliding down the wall. "How did you-"

"Later." Myst cut him off, helping Sten to his feet. His wound wasn't deep, but he'd need attention soon.

The sound of clashing metal drew their attention to where Garth and Rike were still locked in combat. The former guard captain was skilled, but Rike's reach with his halberd kept him constantly on the defensive. Garth's movements were growing slower, his blocks becoming desperate.

Myst stepped forward, her heart pounding but her newfound strength giving her confidence. She'd never been in a real fight before today, but she'd also never had the power to knock out a giant with one punch. She clenched her fists, feeling that familiar warmth course through her muscles.

"Commander Rike." she called out, her voice steadier than she felt. "I think it's time we discussed a different arrangement."