CHAPTER 82: MAP 2 LEVEL 1

Elira tried to resist, her muscular frame tensing as her armored glove cracked off her hand, the rest disintegrating in shards of black metal and sparks.

She stood panting, exposed in barely-there straps over her scarred torso, her firm breasts heaving, nipples erect, her tattooed abs glistening with sweat, her pussy aching with a confusing surge of arousal.

Lyra... moaned, her body arching as her red silk wrapped tighter, more erotic than before, the translucent webbing clinging to her small breasts, nipples poking through visibly, a leash clip hanging from her collarbone, purring with faint magic, her slick pussy throbbing beneath the fabric.

Veyna laughed, her freckled body trembling as her robe exploded in fire, leaving ash curling off her skin.

She wore only two thick ropes—one across her chest, teasing her small breasts and hard nipples, the other at her hips, framing her dripping pussy, her cursed fire making her glow, wetness trickling down her inner thighs.

Selene whimpered, her hands clutching between her thighs, her small breasts trembling.

"This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair!" Her voice cracked, her virgin pussy pulsing with unwanted heat.

The HUD pulsed again, its crimson letters searing into their vision:

YOU ARE NOW: EQUAL PLAYERS.

ALL MAGIC AND STATUS ABILITIES HAVE BEEN REVOKED.

ALL PLEASURE IS A THREAT.

And below that, pulsing red:

TRIAL ONE AWAITS.

PLEASE DO NOT MOAN.

_______________

Sereya adjusted the gold-wrapped band across her chest with a hiss of disdain, her voluptuous breasts straining against the fabric, barely contained, her nipples brushing the air with every frustrated breath, sending a shiver through her regal frame.

The material hugged her curvaceous form like a lover’s greedy hands, accentuating the swell of her hips and the soft, inviting mound between her thighs, her amber eyes blazing with imperial fury.

"This is a joke," she growled, her voice like warm blood over silk, laced with arousal she fought to suppress. "I won’t be paraded like a wet courtesan." Her golden chains dangled teasingly, brushing her stiff pink nipples, a faint heat building between her legs despite her anger.

Lyra giggled beside her, her willowy body shifting, her translucent red silk webbing clinging tighter to her porcelain skin, her small breasts heaving, stiff sensitive nipples peaking visibly through the fabric as she arched her back.

"Oh, my queen... you’re finally dressed like you fuck," she purred, her voice smoky and seductive, her long red hair cascading like blood, her slick pussy throbbing beneath the knots, wetness trickling down her inner thighs at the thought of their exposure.

No one answered, too busy staring, their gazes heavy with a mix of shock and desire.

Each outfit was unique, tailored not by modesty but by the jungle’s cruel design—to tempt, to expose, to remind them they were prey, their bodies displayed like offerings to the wild.

Queen Sereya’s wrap was imperial in color—gleaming gold—but scandalous in form.

A high-slit skirt dangled loose, nothing beneath, revealing her toned thighs marked with sun-kissed symbols that glowed faintly, teasing glimpses of her bare, glistening mound with every shift.

A jeweled chain ran from her collarbone down to a ring nestled between her heavy breasts, splitting her deep cleavage like a possessive claim, her nipples hardening further as the chain brushed them, her arousal evident in the subtle wetness between her legs.

Princess Selene clutched her chest like a frightened virgin, her petite body trembling, her sheer white jungle shift clinging like wet paper to her pale curves.

The thin vines wrapped gently around her wrists, trailing into the dirt, binding her with deceptive tenderness.

Her small breasts heaved, cherry-pink nipples visible through the translucent fabric, stiff and begging for touch, the hem barely covering her flushed, virgin cunt, the cloth clinging between her slick lips with every nervous shift, her big violet eyes wide with humiliated excitement.

Dame Elira Blacksteel’s muscular frame was wrapped in blackened leather straps—one around each powerful thigh, another crossing under her firm breasts but leaving her stiff nipples exposed, proudly on display.

Her back was bare, scarred and glistening with sweat, a single thong between her toned ass cheeks, slick with oil-sheen that made her pussy lips glisten faintly.

She looked more like a gladiator than a knight—raw, carnal, her short silver hair disheveled, her tattooed abs flexing as heat pooled between her legs, her arousal betraying her stoic glare.

Lyra the Crimson Silk was the only one who didn’t cover herself, her entire torso wrapped in red silk webbing, translucent and form-hugging, held by knots that teased her small breasts, her nipples poking through visibly, stiff and aching.

Her hips swung freely as she moved, the cloth riding up to reveal her slick, throbbing pussy, a loop-ring sewn into her collarbone, purring with faint magic, her masochistic thrill evident in the wetness dripping down her thighs.

Veyna the Shackled Flame stood barefoot, her feet smeared with ash, the rough ropes tight and erotic in their cruelty—one twisted cross over her chest, teasing her small, freckled breasts and hard nipples, the other at her hips, framing her dripping pussy, her cursed fire making her skin glow, wetness trickling down her inner thighs as she laughed, her wild orange-red braids swaying.

And Kota...

His sleek black strap-vest hugged his lean torso, accentuating his scarred muscles, lightweight pants bound tight at the thighs, bare from the knees down, the fabric clinging like a second skin to his hardening cock.

The girls stared longer than they’d admit, their pussies aching at the sight—he looked right this way, not like a student, not even like a leader, but like a survivor, the only man who knew what the jungle craved.

The HUD reappeared, its words blunt and glowing:

TRIAL ONE: DO NOT REACT.

DO NOT MOAN. DO NOT MOVE.

YOU ARE BEING WATCHED.

The stone wall ahead cracked open, a path of moss unfurling downward into swirling mist, tendrils slithering beneath like hidden lovers.

The jungle... sighed, its breath warm and humid, carrying the promise of pleasure and peril.