The cave air, dense with the smell of damp rock, burnt metal, and the acrid sweetness of spilled blood, vibrated with an ominous silence.

"YOU..."

The reddish light from the flame-generated torches flickered from the adjoining room, casting dancing shadows over the dismembered remains of what was once a band of bandits.

"... IDENTIFY YOURSELF!"

And there, on the threshold of a rock-hewn cell, an imposing Knight stood firm on the floor. His armor was a testament to another era, forged in shining silver metal that reflected the light, yet adorned with intricate gold embroidery tracing complex patterns over every plate of the breastplate, gauntlets, and greaves. A heavy, majestic golden cloak fell from his shoulders like the folded wings of a mythical creature, slightly waving in the still air. In his right hand, a long sword with the hilt and guard also adorned in gold pointed toward the ground, while a shield with a golden rim rested on his left arm. The gray flames, which had briefly enveloped his body, had now dimmed, but a faint, exhausted energy still pulsed around him.

"Please, spare my life!!"

In front of him, on the cold floor of the cell, a woman had collapsed onto her knees. She was completely naked, her body filthy with the grime and sweat of the dungeon, but her physique was unmistakably toned, marked by the life of a warrior. Her large breasts slightly heaved with her ragged breathing. Her wrists and ankles were bound by rough iron shackles, attached to a chain anchored to the wall. Her hair, a tangled, dull brown, fell over a face disfigured by the dirt. Her eyes, dilated by terror, were fixed on the imposing figure of the Knight. The massacre she had witnessed had finally broken her will.

"What...?"

In response to that plea, the Knight slightly tilted his head, a faint metallic creak accompanying the movement as his gauntleted hand slowly rose.

"I beg you, don't kill me!!"

But while the imposing Knight raised his gauntleted hand, for the being that inhabited the warrior's toned body, this gesture was the confirmation of the sentence.

(Shit! Damn it! Damn them all!)

Inside the naked woman's mind, the Bandit writhed in a frenzy of hysterical panic.

(That monster! It's unnatural! You can't win! My instincts are screaming it at me!)

The bandit's internal scream was a high-pitched wail, utterly incongruent with the powerful physique he possessed. His eyes were fixed on the Knight, but what he saw was neither a rescuer nor an avenger, but the ultimate Predator. The sight of the adjacent room—flesh sliced with the precision of a divine butcher—had been burned into his cowardly soul.

(Injustice! It's a damn injustice! Just because this body looks good and has those... big things, do I have to be the main course? No! I refuse! I will survive!)

The instincts of the warrior's body, trained through fighting and survival, were screaming the same warning: Absolute danger. Run. But the bandit could not run. He was chained to that place.

"I'll do whatever you want! Anything! I'm yours! I'm your cheapest slave! A worthless whore only good for this!"

The bandit's terror translated into a torrent of words, a wave of learned self-denigration, hoping that humiliation would buy him a few seconds of life.

(Yes, grovel. Humiliate yourself. Make that psychopath believe you are useless trash not worth killing. Come on, say it, say it! More pathetic!)

Thinking this, he pleaded, pointing to the chains with a trembling finger and then to his own breasts and thighs, with a complete lack of shame and dignity that painfully contrasted with the physical beauty of the body he occupied.

"I'm worthless, my Lord! Just use me and spare me! I'm just cheap meat! Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me!"

"....."

In response to those degrading pleas, the Knight in silver and gold armor, Mireya, remained motionless. His gauntleted hand finally completed its ascent.

"Please, don't kill me!! I'll be your slave, your toy, I'll do whatever you want, but spare my life!!"

The bandit, through the warrior's eyes, saw the metallic fist rise and prepare to descend, which confirmed all his fears and contorted his face into a grimace of abject terror, tears and snot mixing with the grime on his cheeks as he screamed pathetically.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!"

It was then that the bandit closed his eyes, bracing himself for the fatal impact.

(Frott-frott)

However, instead of a blow, he felt a soft touch on his head.

"Gasp?!"

The touch was so delicate, so gentle, that the incongruity froze his scream halfway as, opening his eyes in shock, he saw...

"Everything will be alright."

The gauntleted hand, with its intricate gold embroidery, had gently descended onto the warrior's filthy hair, and was now stroking it with a completely unexpected lightness.

"....."

The bandit, paralyzed, had no time to process the absurdity.

"I will free you."

Saying that, in an instant, the Knight lifted his hand from the warrior's head.

(Cling!)

And invoking his silver sword with golden edges, he moved with a speed that defied perception, slicing in a flash.

"You are safe now."

The crisp sound of metal slicing filled the cell as the chains linking the shackles to the wall broke, and moments later, the Knight repeated the movement, cutting the ankle shackles and then the wrist ones.

(All in just a blink of an eye...)

The warrior, released from her iron shackles, fell forward from the sudden weight of her own body, immediately getting up, her eyes filled with a mix of bewilderment and terror.

(Is he torturing me? Is this a sadistic joke? Why did he save me? For what kind of things?)

In the bandit's mind, the chaos was total.

"Do not fear..."

The warrior, now free and trembling, was barely starting to stand when the Knight in silver and gold armor acted again, and leaning down, he slipped one strong arm under the woman's knees and the other under her back, lifting and carrying her princess-style.

"We will get out of here!"

Thus, declaring in a heroic tone that resonated through the terror-filled cell, he began to move forward.

(What?! Is he carrying me?! Does this mean he has spared my life!?)

Leaving the bandit, effortlessly held against the cold breastplate of the armor, in a state of frantic confusion.

(I did it! I survived! Now that I am this close to this monster, I should have a chance to kill him!)

A trembling sigh escaped the warrior's lips, and the bandit, feeling nauseating relief, rejoiced for an instant.

"Do you wish to die...?"

However, just as the thought took shape, an icy chill ran through the warrior's naked body as if an immense, invisible snake were staring intently at him, ready to strike.

"H-hiiiik!"

His muscles tensed to the limit and an uncontrollable tremor ran across his skin, a physical reaction to extreme fear that erased any idea of attack from his mind.

"Shhh. Do not fear anymore."

The Knight, oblivious to the internal panic and the source of that terror (the snake goddess Echidna who resides in his soul), misinterpreted the "damsel's" trembling as gratitude and relief, gently patting his back.

(I will die! If I attempt the slightest movement, I will die!)

The bandit, for his part, instantly understood the situation. The creature in the armor, or something related to him, was more terrifying than death.

(There is only one way out of this!!)

With desperate resolve, the bandit forced himself to relax the warrior's body muscles.

(He must be useful to this monster!!)

His only option was to act like a good damsel in distress, the frightened and grateful victim the hero expected.

"Sniff... U-ugh... Sniff..."

And acting like a shattered victim, he slightly snuggled against the cold metal, internally praying that the charade would not cost him his life.

That was how they advanced relentlessly.

With the Knight carrying the naked warrior, they traversed the tunnels under the warrior's guidance, using the bandit's knowledge due to the constant "deviations" that led nowhere.

For the bandit, time stretched into an ordeal of silent terror and feigned vulnerability. The warrior's body, though strong, felt numb with fear, while the bandit maintained the charade, snuggled against the cold armor and avoiding any movement that might awaken any sign of rejection.

"Finally!!"

Thanks to that, somehow and after hours of walking through dark and twisted passages, Mireya managed to find the exit. The daylight, an explosion of green and blue color, struck his eyes, having reached the surface.

"...."

"...."

Where the Forest of Laments no longer existed.

In its place, there was a gigantic crater, a hole in the world that stretched for miles, filled with smoking rocks and residual flames. The mass of earth and vegetation had been pulverized and inverted.

"Alright..."

And the most terrifying thing: in the sky, a fissure in reality itself was opening. It was a dark, pulsating rift, a tear in the firmament that cast an ominous shadow over the disaster. The catastrophe was on a scale that Mireya had not grasped while he was inside the fight.

"... I will not take responsibility."

Near the edge of the crater, an Adventurers Guild reconnaissance member (part of the unit sent by the Master) was attempting to map the damage.

"What is that...?"

The adventurer froze upon seeing the Knight in silver armor, wielding a sword with gold embroidery, emerging from the hole, carrying a naked and filthy woman.