Pitch black.

For the first time since her resurrection, Sarakiel had found herself in absolute darkness. The witch’s space, with its artificial light, masked what was waiting for her just a few steps from the very end of the cavern.

Thankfully, her new form was well equipped for this. Her mimicked body’s eyes were useless, but her main body’s tiny specks worked flawlessly. Needing to see what lay before her, she could only imagine what she looked like walking backwards through the subterranean labyrinth.

“Stupid bitch…” Her words bounced off the olivine walls, reminding her of the last time she traversed these tunnels, further stoking the flame of rage. “What’s the point of kicking me out before fucking finishing teaching me magic?”

Yellow eyes observed her from the safety of their nest. Goblins were bold, but only in number. If what the witch said was true, then there should only be a handful left. Regardless, for the first time, she was scared of the creatures. “I should’ve at least brought the damned sword.” She muttered.

The worst part was the smell. Not only would one find the sharp sting of feces and decaying flesh, but sour scents that scourged one’s nose hairs and sweet soothing smells amongst a cacophony of olfactory offenses and delights that was downright disorientating.

Low whooping and chirping could be heard from the chitinous additions to the walls, their language far from decipherable, but ideal for making their numbers appear larger in the tight space and communicating her location, appearance and possessions. A lone woman unarmed, practically naked and walking backwards would be like drenching oneself in beef grease and striding into a room filled with hungry feral dogs.

Thankfully, of all monsters, she had a catalog of knowledge in ways to kill a goblin.

“Ksshhaaa!” A short, bald headed green man ran out, blocking her path and brandishing a dull shiv made from bone. Its eyes were small slits, a piercing cadmium yellow that glowed in the darkness while its nose and ears were overdeveloped, the best tools for taking in stimuli where the sun never shined. Standing just below the height of her tail, it took a wide offensive stance, making clear of his intentions of barring her from progressing out of the cave.

Standing alone, it may have been a young buck offering to be a vanguard to test the strength of the lone woman that passed. It stood naked, much to Sara’s chagrin, ready to be first to partake in his spoils if proven victorious over her. With their remaining numbers, killing him would most likely allow her to continue unabated.

The creature called again, this time taking large steps to see if she flinched. The first rule of goblin slaying is not to allow them any ground. However, she was breaking the second rule which is to never show them your back.

After another moment, the skirmisher decided to lunge for her. With a wide slicing arc downwards, the goblin hit the ground with the knife as she casually sidestepped even in this narrow cavern. His technique was awful, another sign their numbers have been culled.

She kicked him on the side of his head, knocking him over. She needed to make a show of him, lest she be possibly overrun.

“Come on, let me take you on!” The succubus’s words echoed throughout the cave, the loudest one in the room was often the scariest. She loudly grunted as she brought her heel down on the neck of the prone creature. Pinning the creature, she took the dull knife from its clawed, flailing hand.

“May you rot in the twelve hells, demon spawn!” She stabbed it in the neck, causing it to shriek in pain. It certainly must have hurt, but it was not lethal.

But that was the point.

Ramming the rugged shiv in again into its fleshy neck, she let her emotions take over. Why did the witch kick her out so soon? Why did this thing think it could fight her? Why did Merle betray her? Why did he think it would benefit the kingdom to kill her off? Every question was a thrust with intent.

The creature’s shrieks carried down the caverns, informing any future parties she may cross that she was not one they should mess with.

- - - -

The water appeared serene, contrasting Sarakiel’s mood. The penultimate landmark during a typical patrol, the underground lake, was a much needed source of refreshment before the final leg and return trip to the surface.

Armed with the dull knife, the goblin’s blue blood flaking off of the bone, the succubus had something to defend herself with. Thankfully, it proved unnecessary after the show of her first kill in this new life.

Her stomach growled and her main body grew parched. Worst of all, she was beginning to get horny again.

The creature’s warm blood felt soothing against her skin, drawing out her inner desires. For the past hour, her crest felt warm once more, aggravating her further when she thought of who put it there. Her thighs chafed due to the illsuited nature of her body for any sort of physical labor. Even with her juices flowing more and more as she ascended the cavern, the constant rubbing against one another led them to feel raw.

“I might as well get some water…” She scowled down at the source of her constantly draining supply. A thought tickled the back of her mind, before she immediately shoved it down.

Ever since she saw the goblin’s male organ, her hormones began to rise worse than ever.

Stripping herself of her impromptu bedsheet clothing, she stepped into the cold waters. Approximately one league across and one league wide, it was surreal how such a beautiful body of water not only formed, but resided in the midst of this subterranean hell without human intervention.

At first, she only stayed in the shallows, drinking her fill. But after a moment’s thought, she decided to go shoulder deep. Despite the monsters that filled the cave above and below, none seemed to ever be found in the small pristine lake. She eased herself, much like when she used her levitation spell, and buoyed to the surface.

Sarakiel took in her form once more, her heaving caramel colored breasts floating to each side of her. “If only they always felt like this…” she wistfully remarked, admiring them. Cupping her hand and pouring some water onto her stomach, she closed her eyes.

Floating there, the water felt cool as it ran through her hair and over her body. Her hunger, her carnal desire, her anger all soothed as her mimicked body breathed deeply. For the first time since starting her second life and even quite a bit of time before, she felt peace. She felt bliss.

She felt the water itself.

More than just a cool collection of spring water, it felt alive. She felt every shift and flow, herself just another part that floated up top. It swayed her gently about, its touch was gentle, the slight ripples were like a song.

“I’m sensing the mana…” Sara whispered under her lips, her new body far more receptive to the pure elemental energy than the one before. The foreign sensation felt like a new friend, but simultaneously like someone she was aware of her whole life. Water had been alongside across two lives now, a necessary part of her, but one that never felt like it was ever truly a part of her. Just a visitor passing through.

She wanted to understand more as curiosity gripped her. She allowed herself to let the water in. Like opening the floodgates, it quickly flowed through her, filling up every nook and cranny of her mind.

In turn, she too tried to fill the water with her presence. Physically, this would be impossible, but Sara, now at least magic adjacent, felt like it would make sense conceptually.

She allowed herself to sink into the lake. Without any fear, she felt it embrace her, covering her as well as merging with her. Opening her eyes, she did not feel a burning sensation in her lungs. It was like breathing air.

- - - -

Stepping onto the rocky shoreline, Sara was hungrier than ever. The main body’s stomach made a slight squeaking sound, one that was adorable yet possibly deadly.

“I guess I’ll just have to tease myself and figure the rest out as I soldier on…” She was not sure if she could even get out of the caves if she did not have something to eat. Patrolmen usually brought three days worth of rations for the two day route, in case of emergencies. “Perhaps I can talk someone into giving me something.”

The idea of food was nice, but something else demanded more of her attention.

Reflecting the hot pink glow of her crest, the water and the understanding of it’s mana led her into further needing to take in some of her own.

“I guess I need to borrow some from that bitch…” She teased her clit. In return, it gave her a jolt of pleasure, a sign it was waiting for some exercise.

Idly standing on the shore, she rubbed herself gently at first. Looking around, she found a large rock she could lean up against to angle herself better. Her blackened nipples were already perked from the cold water, but now they wanted some warming up.

“Mmmm…” She traced the outline of her lips, the cool water raising goosebumps on her body. Her free hand pinched one of her nipples, twisting the tight mound and causing her spine to shiver. As she began to breathe a bit heavier, her gasps echoed in the small space off of the water and rock walls. In perfect darkness, she felt as if she could feel the twinges of pleasure just a bit more acutely.

Her fingers felt nice, but she felt they were lacking. Sara had to be a bit more careful with her nails, something that prevented her from succumbing to the pleasure entirely. After experiencing the cucumber and it’s miraculous shape, she was not sure if she could ever feel the same about her own dainty fingers.

As she got into the groove, sounds that were not hers began to fill the space.

Positioning herself behind the rock, the succubus laid her false body as flat as it would allow against the stone and raised her tail upwards to possibly see what it was.

It was a sound she was all too familiar with. The sound of iron plate rubbing against another plate coupled with the distinct chimes of chainmail announced a knight’s presence well before they actually arrived. A problem for monster hunters, but not for their more brazen substitutes.

Light chatter accompanied it as well, far too distant to comprehend, but she knew the language. By the tone of voice, it was a man and a woman, one of which were not wearing plate.

“...goblin’s head…”, “...seek forgiveness, Rascal!”

The voices were distinct and were not trying to hide, the sign of either too much confidence or too little experience, either of which made Sara feel a bit more at ease, but still worried her. “I don’t know if I can fight another person like this, let alone one in armor…” She mumbled, meticulously fishing for as much information as she could.

If they just passed by without noticing her, that would be ideal as she could sneak out. In a group, they would be slower than her, even as hungry as she was. Not to mention they would certainly indulge in the goblin nest below, tiring themselves out further before returning to the surface.

Her rock was large enough to obstruct her from the opening if she crouched, but not enough beyond that. Shedding just a little bit of light in her direction would be enough for the most curious of persons to inspect her weak hiding spot.

“Can we stop for a second? My feet hurt!” The female voice sounded young. She drew out the note, reminding Sara of a certain witch not too far from where they were at.

An unheard voice spoke out, “That should be fine. The map says there should be something nearby.”

“Twelve hells, really?” Sarakiel swore. Looking out over the rock, she had to lower herself further, just barely peeking out over it. Not only was there an unaccounted for person to consider now, all three had lights, and they knew of, and would intend to stop by, the lake.

To compound her problems, she had left her clothing and knife by the shore, inviting the chance to search for their owner. A chance the succubus knew she would not want to take.

Her mind raced as she tried to come up with solutions. It had been a while since she was driven into a corner like this, somewhere the Duke of Steel never found himself in without a sword by his side.

The party stepped into the open space of the cavern, their lights blinding to the cave dwellers.

The front man was the one in plate, polished beyond practicality. A teenage tallman, his stance was carefree, with the sword slung across his back. If Sara was his teacher, he would be stripped of his weapon immediately.

Between the two men, was a tallman woman adorned in the pink robes of a deacon. The grade above student, she must have just left the church for the first time given her constant complaints about her feet. Her staff was nearly as tall as she was, initially confusing Sara to think she may have been a slightly taller halfling.

Lastly, a slender man, appearing slightly older than the two in front of him, at least had decent form, his hand hovering at the grip of the curved blade at his hip. A proper halfling, his auburn hair shimmered in the torchlight, typical for his race. His boiled leather armor implied he followed their traditional discipline and adhered to the codes of their finest fighters, meaning he was the highest threat.

Sarakiel knew she could no longer sneak out behind them with a halfling. She could not even get away with swearing under her breath with one of those around. Decades spent leading and dueling them informed her that the odds were now wildly stacked against her.

“The room seems fine,” the halfling coolly remarked, his stance lightening slightly.

Shifting his gaze to the main feature of the chamber, the armored man held out his torch, catching the light reflecting off of the water’s surface, “Whoa! You’re right! There’s a huge pond here!”

“No way!” The girl was the first one onto the shore, thankfully skipping the clothes. But she was the last one Sara was worried about.

Clanging loudly behind, the knight too, rushed past the cloth and onto the rocky beach. “Oh man, I’ve been dying of thirst since this morning!” He quickly dropped to his knees and stuck his face in the cool water, helmet visor still down. From this angle, it was easier to see the standard he bore on the back of his half-cape, denoting his rank of lord in one of the many lesser houses in Altalour. Given his presumed age and lack of discipline, it was far more reasonable to assume he was the heir to lordship.

Sara had seen this type far too often, excited to hold steel for the first time, but too afraid to swing it. Although, given his current location, he may be of the opposite disposition. The shine in his armor showed it had rarely seen use, maybe even on it’s maiden excursion today.

The halfling strode up more slowly behind the two, on alert as the apparent lordling and priestess ignorantly acted like they were at a park instead. He stopped exactly where Sara was afraid he would, reaching down and holding her discarded bottoms under the light for closer inspection.

She almost gagged as he took a tentative sniff, as halflings are often wont to do. A look of abject confusion took over his face as he went for another calculative whiff.

His attention then shifted to her bedsheet shawl not too far away. Repeating the process once more, it appeared he may have never encountered a succubus before, showing he may not have been as old as she thought he was initially.

“Radan, Bella. Don’t get too ahead of yourselves, we might have company afterall.”

The light of his torch bathed the otherside of the succubus’s hiding place. She could hear his tiny boots push the loose rocks lining the floor with each step.

Taking a deep breath, she stood. She had no other choice.