CHAPTER 579: CHAPTER 581: TRACKING

Damon was quiet. He was almost afraid of making a sound. Getting killed or tortured did not scare him... no, not at all. But finding out that you could be raped by a beautiful older woman was actually terrifying.

The question was how long Abellona would stay sane.

And hopefully, if she did pounce on him, he’d still be intact long enough to figure things out.

Damon cautiously walked up to her, reaching into his shadow storage.

"Here, have some water. Cool off a bit."

She slowly took the water, glancing at him with those ruby red eyes of hers. Damon instinctively backed away. He felt like a mouse getting the stare of a cat... except this cat was pent up with all sorts of carnal desires inflicted by a curse from a demon.

Abellona smiled softly.

"Why are you backing away... I’m not scary. It’s my first time, so be gentle with me, okay?"

Damon’s gaze moved to the pool of blood at her feet and the unfortunate Goristro that she had ripped apart.

He raised his finger, pointing at her.

"Better keep your cool. If you touch me, you’ll have to marry me."

Abellona’s smile widened.

He subconsciously edged back.

"My bride price is going to be sky high."

Abellona moved closer to him, her breath hot and unsteady.

"Men don’t have a bride price silly."

So close... Damon felt his back hit the wall. He didn’t want to provoke her into more violence, but she leaned against him, her breasts pressing onto his chest as she whispered into his ear.

"That’s fine... let’s skip the ceremony and go straight to the nuptial night..."

Damon felt a wave of heat course through his body as her seductive voice rang in his ears. His mind was telling him no, but his body was screaming yes.

Damon bit his lips.

’My will is like iron, damnit... no weapon fashioned against me shall prosper.’

He moved his head back and slammed it into her forehead.

Her head jerked back as she staggered, falling onto her rear like a stumbling drunk. She held her head with a grimace, shaking it.

Damon glared at her.

"Are you back to your senses, or do I have to give you more?"

She raised her head with a wince.

"What is your head made of? It’s like I got hit by a metal ball..."

Damon sighed with relief at her words. It seemed she had regained some sanity.

He almost felt disappointed. Looked like he wouldn’t get ravaged today.

He walked up to her, adjusting her dress over her shoulder, covering her bare skin.

She nodded but was too ashamed to say anything. At that moment, he noticed the curse on her neck was now looking like a rose about to bloom.

"It’s almost time..." he muttered uneasily.

He was about to speak when Abellona tugged at his arm. He glanced down to see her gesturing at something.

Following her finger, he saw the pool of blood from the Goristro she had just killed. Damon noticed something shimmering in the blood. Looking closer, he realized they seemed to be runes. The glow spread to the rest of the blood, including the stains on Abellona’s body.

He could intuitively tell what type of magic this was.

"Tracking magic..."

This was the type of spell used to keep a mark on someone. Ashcroft hadn’t just split from the Goristro—he had sent them out knowing they would die. This was his goal, to use their blood to mark where Damon and Abellona were.

Damon turned to the feverishly red Abellona, who was staring at his side profile with a dazed expression.

He bit his lips, looking at her blood-soaked body.

"Strip."

Abellona didn’t waste any time or question him. She moved her hand to slide her dress off.

Damon stopped her with an irritated expression.

"Not here. There’s a creek a few caverns away. We need to get there and wash you off."

Abellona, realizing what she had just done under the influence of the curse, looked down, wishing she could just die.

Ashcroft had done too much to her. If he had just killed her, it would have been better than this curse. She could have endured a curse of rot, or one that turned her into an animal, or even one that caused agony. But this... this was too much.

Though could a curse be considered a curse if it didn’t utterly make one miserable? How could it be a curse if it didn’t make one suffer? Just like happiness was subjective—what could make you happy wouldn’t move another person.

So too was a curse. What was debilitating to her might be nothing to someone else.

As a chaste princess, this was devastating. But if a common prostitute had been cursed with this, she might not have even noticed the difference, nor would it have bothered her.

Abellona cursed Ashcroft in her heart, knowing it would change nothing.

Damon dragged her through the winding tunnels and past caverns, using his shadow perception to navigate the dungeon. He moved closer and closer to the creek he had sensed in this underground world.

What made it easier was the lack of monsters in this dungeon. While they moved, Damon knew Ashcroft was not far. He would be tracking the blood on Abellona’s body. After all, she was a moving target.

The amount of time they could spend at the creek was limited.

It would be better if they could lure Ashcroft away...

No. That wouldn’t do. Damon needed to do two things at once: save Abellona from the curse before it bloomed, and face Ashcroft to kill the bastard.

But there was only one of him, and he couldn’t win alone. Ashcroft had the power to command demons, and he was strong—stronger.

"He’s a proper ruler with minions."

Damon had none of that. He had already sent Ghost with the orcs.

He didn’t have a minion... or rather, a shadow.

"Matia... I need you..." he called out to his shadow, though he was unsure if she could hear him.

Finally, he spotted the creek. Water glistened with the blue light of the crystals. He pulled Abellona along, her body too weak to resist, letting herself be dragged.

Without hesitation, he tossed her into the water. However, she was still holding his hand and pulled him in with her with a loud splash.