Chapter 2027: Evil Man, Kind Master

Quinlan released Blossom and planted a boot against its forehead. Short legs continued pumping against the ground while the creature reached for him, unable to bring its filthy body a finger closer.

"How cruel!!" it wailed. "Your love should survive every form! What kind of husband rejects his innocent wife because she has warts?!"

Green skin flowed beneath his boot. The hooked nose receded, broken teeth straightened, and white hair poured down around a lovely foxkin face. Five tails burst from Kitsara’s back, fanning across the tunnel while her clothes returned around her curves.

Kitsara had worn the solid goblin’s body through [Perfect Form]; the four creatures she had recalled were projections of her detached tails.

Morgana’s knees failed.

Quinlan caught her with a current of wind, easing her to the ground as he came to crouch beside her. The cold soaked through her robes while she clung to her staff.

"It was..."

Her throat closed.

"This was a fucking joke?"

"Men are all the same! They beat an evil bitch, enslave her, and decide the matter is finished!" Kitsara rested a hand on Quinlan’s shoulder. The affection in her touch did nothing to soften the hatred in her eyes as she looked past him at Morgana.

"We women remember things long after the matter is ’concluded’ by men. I’ll never forget how you almost destroyed my family."

"I remember what she did," Quinlan replied, looking up at his wife. "Could you give us a moment?"

"Of course, Quinnie~"

Kitsara leaned down to kiss the side of his helmet, then caught Blossom by the hand. Their laughter followed them up the passage.

Morgana watched them go, her fingers aching around her staff.

"You... allowed this?"

"I did." Quinlan’s voice stayed gentle. "For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you experienced such a thing."

She wanted to throw that apology back in his face. "You..." The words would not come. Her relief at seeing him crouched beside her was so overwhelming that she could barely keep herself from crying again.

"I thought you were going to let them ruin me."

"I’ll take you back. Can you stand?"

He offered his hand. Morgana’s fingers closed around it, and she needed his pull to get her feet beneath her. When he eased his grip, hers tightened.

Quinlan let her keep hold of him. With his free hand, he guided a curl of wind beneath the pendant’s cord and lifted it over her head, ending the concealment.

Then he reopened her connection to [Master’s Link]. <You can reach me again, too.>

<You... I hate you so fucking much...>

<I know.>

Her eyes filled at the answer. She could hear him. If he left, she could still call for him.

"Can you... speak to them for me?"

"I have no animosity toward you, but..." He brushed a fresh tear from her cheek. "I will not go out of my way to protect you from my wives. If they still can’t forgive you, I’ll put their happiness before your safety. I’m sorry."

Her gaze dropped toward his breastplate. "..." She remained close enough for his thumb to wipe the other cheek.

"Would you try apologizing to them?" he asked. "Properly, without another fight, without behaving like they’re all beneath you. I’ll be there with you and if your words are sincere, I’ll vouch for you and ask that we all move on."

"I..." Morgana gulped. Then... "Okay." She nodded to him.

"We can talk about this more later," he added. "Let’s get you out of here first."

Quinlan looked down at her fingers around his. A moment ago, she’d been cursing his name. Now she was asking him to protect her from his own wife.

Kitsara had enjoyed her revenge, then left him alone with Morgana to comfort her. In one fell swoop, she’d made the ice-cold woman feel both true terror and the sweetness of being on his good side.

’Kitsara, what a terrifying woman you are.’

...

By the time Adventurer Black returned to the prisoners’ chamber, every cage stood open.

The worst of the wounded remained near the walls where Seraphiel and Liora could work without moving them. Golden light flowed beneath Sera’s hands as she closed the torn flesh along one woman’s thighs, her usual playfulness gone while she murmured reassurance.

Beside her, Liora supported another survivor against her shoulder and guided a gentler healing glow through bruises left by repeated assaults.

Aurora moved between them with an open case of vials. She checked each woman’s eyes, asked short questions about pain and dizziness, then selected the right potion instead of forcing more healing magic into exhausted bodies.

The rest of Black’s women worked wherever the healers pointed them. Some carried prisoners out of the cells or distributed cloaks and water. Others searched the adjoining chambers for anyone who had been missed, while Black Fang guarded the main passage and Ayame organized the captives who could walk.

Della, Brena, and Tavi had devoted themselves to the two girls.

Felicity sat on an overturned crate with a blanket around her shoulders, drinking from Brena’s waterskin while Della inspected the red marks left by the shackles. Alexios remained close enough to touch his daughter’s shoulder, though he had finally allowed her out of his arms.

"Does this hurt?" Della asked, pressing gently beneath Felicity’s wrist.

"Not terribly..." The young queen bore the examination with brave dignity. "I remained strong for Feng. She needed me badly."

On the neighboring crate, Feng stared at her.

Tavi had cleaned the dirt from Feng’s face and was trying to smooth her black hair with careful fingers. Brena had already given her a second blanket, a strip of dried fruit, and repeated assurances that she was safe.

"You were both very brave. You should be proud of yourselves," Brena said.

Feng looked toward Black, who had paused near the chamber entrance.

"Thanks..." she said, eyes narrowed.

The armored adventurer tilted his head at her as Morgana stopped at his shoulder and released his hand. Half her purple hair hung loose, and the back of her robes was dark with cave moisture and grime.

"Who is she?" Della asked, rising from Felicity’s side.

Morgana looked toward Black. Before she found an answer, Orianna came over to join them.

"She came with us," Orianna explained. "Her magic covers too much ground for a battlefield that crowded, so she fought a bit farther away."

"Oh..." Della looked over Morgana again. The woman certainly resembled a mage, although most victorious mages did not return from battle looking as though they’d been dragged along a cavern wall. "Thank you for helping us."

Morgana managed a nod to Della.

Tavi left Feng bundled beneath the blankets and approached, a damp cloth still in her hand.

"Are you all right?" Tavi asked softly. "Do you need me to check you for injuries?"

Morgana glanced toward the passage. Kitsara stood there with Blossom, her white tails swaying as she said something that made the dogkin giggle.

She edged nearer Black before meeting Tavi’s eyes.

"I’m... not hurt."

Tavi held out the cloth. "For your hands, then?"

Morgana accepted it with her free hand.

"...Thank you."

<Okay, what the fuck?> Ayame’s words reverberated through the harem chat as the women saw Morgana’s behavior.

<Mom? Is everything okay?> Felicity asked, worried.

<...Yes,> Morgana replied, looking at Kitsara while moving closer to Quinlan. Seeing the foxkin’s utterly unrepentant grin and following blown kiss, she shuddered. <...Everything is perfect.>