Though she traveled this road hundreds of times, she had never done so with such caution.

Sarakiel swore at the full moon, a time even she knew was dangerous to be outside fortified city gates. Monsters, emboldened by the mana literally raining from the sky, arise from their dens to hunt or scheme. She had even heard rumors that this was the only time when creatures capable of speech could be found. Something she unfortunately fit the description of.

Not to mention, there was the opposite reaction: monster hunters were in high demand around this time to protect cities, lone cathedrals, and the occasional isolated estate or two. Easily her greatest fear of running into during this trek.

With the town of Georges less than a league ahead, Sara weighed her options. If what she heard from the adventurers was true, she would have no reason to rush. Not to mention, while she had a full stomach still, even the various devils the world over needed to sleep, for some reason. Something her heavily drooping main eyes agreed with.

The only problem with that plan was that a overdiligient monster hunter could run into her either on an extended patrol or on a frolic of their own just looking to gain experience.

Sara rubbed the back of her neck. “Shit’s never easy, is it?”

Finding a large tree, she checked underneath for a hole that could hopefully fit her. Her eyes were perfect for the dark, as a nocturnal monster, however the witch’s domain, as well as her human spirit, made it easy to rebel against that.

The hole was just barely large enough to hold her and her lascivious form coupled with her crowning horns. A bit too snug and with an awkward craning of her neck, she hoped to at least catch an hour or two of sleep.

- - - -

It had been a long day.

What had started with Ashara examining the cucumber, quickly spiraled into her finding her old armor, a bit of magic training, her sudden departure out of the cave and her first real meal as a succubus. A day that was certainly over 24 hours.

As soon as she closed her eyes, she was out.

The burrow surrounding her quickly gave way to wicked dreams that tormented her psyche. One consisted of her making it to House Proudmane, only to find it an utter wreck. Only the most sturdy of beams supporting the estate remained as everything else appeared burned to the ground. Stepping into the ruins of the once noble house, she found Stella and Merle within its midst, the now Pontifex beheading the Lady of the home. Her ghastly wails echoed through the space.

Another involved the succubus standing on an empty city street in the middle of the day. An oddity as the town seemed unfamiliar, but the lack of people was unnerving. As she began to look for landmarks or people, she suddenly felt the dried up remains of the two young adventurers crawl from her vagina, looking to strangle the monster that killed them in their prime. The young tallman and halfling’s corpses screeched high pitch wails, their damned voices causing her mind to go blank as they grasped her neck.

Lastly, she found herself much further back in time, the courtyard of her former swordmaster. Snow had already taken to the ground, the fires around the home melting some as servants worked to and fro around the estate, oblivious to the monster in their midst. The man was hard, much like how Samuel came to be, and emerged from the main door to his personal abode. Having just finished his daily training, he was still armed and adorned with his sparring leathers. At first, he seemed to be enjoying the chill in the air, when his attention shot to her. Upon seeing the monster in the midst of his home, drew his sword, mercilessly killing the creature in one masterful stroke designed to make her slowly bleed out.

Sara tried to unconsciously toss and turn in the confined space, but was too large to do so. As the next nightmare began to set the scene, this time taking place upon one of the many plains she had led men into battle, something pulled her from her distressed slumber.

The sound of a twig snapping.

Her eyes shot open within the tiny foxhole. Heavy boots mere arms lengths away from her, carefully tread upon the lush ground. Stomping with little regard for stealth, he seemed like he was not on the hunt but instead looking to draw something out.

The man hummed a song, carefree and clueless to the devil within his reach. Sara held her breath in case it was a halfling. Unsure if even breathing from her main body would produce a sound to potentially alert the threat, her lungs burned all while the intruder slowly meandered by. Keeping his company to himself, the man continued his moonlit stroll past the tree, something Sara did not wish to peek out from.

Once she was certain she was alone once more, she let loose a sigh of relief. “That might’ve been the longest I’ve ever held my breath in two lives now…”

With enough time and courage, she emerged from the tree, her neck was sore from the awkward position needed to accommodate her horns, but the few hours of rest was worth it. With a few more wary glances, she resumed her journey.

The first rays of morning came quickly as she took her way around Georges as meticulously as she could. A few more scares came and went, but none she thankfully had to come to blows with.

Even picking through the forest surrounding the cities and trails, Sara estimated she should be on the doorstep of what remained of her ancestral home by this time tomorrow. With the sun up, both monsters and their slayers should be asleep, barring a few outliers.

- - - -

Outside of a tallman child seeing her after drawing close to the river outside of the town for a drink, Sarakiel managed to evade the detection of the prying eyes of man and monster. She was unsure if her charm spell would work on another monster, but she was not willing to test it out.

Seeing a few large moose, she made sure to avoid the bulk of their herd as well, having had a few scars on her old body from fun nights drinking. Not monsters, they were still a threat to her as one kick from a 15 foot tall beast could easily destroy her mimicked body, let alone her main one.

Most creatures in Alzahett were large. Monstrous and not, they adapted to the extreme conditions the continent tested them with, all while supplying bountiful resources. As such, the various animals and monsters adapted, each in their own way. Having only left the continent a few times, most of which were with Aldrius negotiating with powers abroad, she got to see firsthand how unusual their wildlife really was.

As the supposed birthplace of tallmen, it may have played a factor in that development as well.

She neared Thistlebrook, a small hamlet crested on a capillary of Prizar River, one of the seven major rivers in Alzahett. The town made a living during these fall months, as various fish came from down the lakes up north, through these waters and into the ocean, ready for spawn during winter.

Sara saw the welcome sights of waterwheels churning, a hallmark of the sequestered hamlet and a reason why Samuel chose to settle down near here as his years began to build. Every week he was not out on campaign, he would take Stella and Seralene to the various stalls and storefronts, picking out whatever caught their eye from either traveling merchants or those who retailed goods from the small ships that passed by. Stella always liked to try out the various foods that blew into town from far off places while Seralene liked talking to the folk that passed through the remote village, neither something particularly interesting to Samuel, but enjoyed the sense of happiness it brought to them.

Tears began to build, thinking of days long gone. All of those who enjoyed them were presumed dead. Sara hoped that was not the case, but as someone no stranger to the atrocities man can commit, she had her mind made up. She just had to see if she was wrong.

“Alright…” She tore her eyes from the scene, the golden rays of sun dancing around once more. “Just gotta get through tonight.”

As she turned from her vista, a low growl began to fill the air. Too low pitched to be her own stomach, a few more joined in their leader.

Direwolves, as tall as a man, encircled the succubus. Their bodies were lean, fur black as night, and eyes glowing an eerie shade of crimson. A small horn emerged from the top of their skull, with their leader boasting the largest one of the pack.

About six stood, each quickly assessing and communicating their analysis of her.

The succubus’s mind began to race. There was no way to outrun these beasts, even with the town so close. She could not hope to take them on without a weapon nor a better grasp of magic. She only had one option.

Locking eyes with the largest, she tried to push her mana into him. Taking advantage of her concentration, the other wolves drew closer, snarling at the devil before them. Her plump figure caused them to salivate, but for a different reason than bipeds would.

Trying not to succumb to their scare tactics, she continued to recall how she performed her charm spell before, pushing her mana into him, much like the lake showed her was possible. She had gone through a quarter of her supply as doubts began to settle in, appearing to be the large beast was immune to her attempts.

“Hey Ashara…?” The succubus took half a step back. She knew mentally that she was not supposed to give them any ground, but with the fight portion of her instincts nearing their limits, flight began to take over.

“Oh hey buddy! Finally decided to give me a shout? Have you finally got over being a pissy missy?”

“Fuck. Never mind.” Sara forcefully closed the connection. She would rather be eaten by this pack of wolves than ask for her help with that tone.

Three minutes.

She guessed she had three minutes. If she could run for three minutes, she might be able to get into Thistlebrook and scare off the direwolves. Running into town would cause a whole new set of problems, but she knew she could charm humans, as it appeared to be ineffective on creatures.

With a deep breath, she turned and ran.

The wolves quickly followed suit.