Jareth crouched low, his breath shallow as he cautiously approached the thin silk curtain. The silhouettes beyond the steam-draped veil moved with an alluring grace, their laughter and hushed whispers echoing softly through the golden bathhouse. He had expected another brutal battle, another trial by blood and steel, but this… this was something else entirely.
As he pulled back the curtain ever so slightly, his eyes widened in shock. Before him was a grand bath, filled with dozens of half-naked women of various races. Dark elves with ebony skin glistened under the candlelight, their silver hair cascading over their shoulders. Vampires with porcelain skin reclined lazily in the steaming water, their crimson eyes half-lidded with amusement. Succubi flicked their tails playfully, their bat-like wings folding against their bare backs as they exchanged teasing glances. Lamias coiled their long serpentine bodies around the edge of the pool, their scales shimmering with the moisture in the air. Jareth's heart pounded.
"B-Bahamut…?" he stammered internally, his entire face burning red.
"Calm down, my boy!" Bahamut's voice boomed in his mind. "This must be a trick! Stay focused!"
Jareth tried to regain control, but his mind was in turmoil. Never in his life had he seen a woman like this, let alone an entire bathhouse filled with them. His years of solitude, of endless battles, of never even holding a woman's hand—
He clenched his fists, furious at himself for being so easily distracted. Just as he was about to pull away, one of the women, a stunning dark elf with three piercing violet eyes, turned her head in his direction. She peered through the steam, her lips curving into a knowing smile.
"My dear King Romelo," she purred, her voice like silk. "Have you finally decided to visit us?"
Jareth stiffened. The bathhouse erupted into excited whispers. The women began shifting, exposing more skin, their bodies gleaming under the golden light.
"My King, come join us~," another voice cooed.
More voices followed, beckoning him forward, their gazes hungry. Jareth stood frozen, unable to process the situation. His years of loneliness clawed at him, making him irrationally angry.
Bahamut sighed deeply. "Jareth, I promise you, if we survive this and rescue Eden, I will personally introduce you to a fine lady. But now is not the time to be thinking with your—"
"Enough!" Jareth hissed under his breath, shaking off his hesitation.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, steeling his resolve. The city was under attack. His allies were fighting for their lives. He had no time for distractions.
With a swift motion, Jareth lunged into the bathhouse, his movements like a shadow. His goal was simple—disable them before they could react. He struck the first target, aiming to render her unconscious, but the moment his blade made contact with her, she twisted away with inhuman speed.
"This is not our King!" the three-eyed elf shrieked, her illusion breaking. "Intruder! Prepare to attack!"
The bathhouse transformed into chaos. Succubi summoned dark tendrils of energy, dark elves unsheathed hidden daggers, and vampires bared their fangs. Jareth spun through the steam, evading a barrage of spells and strikes. He cursed under his breath—this was an ambush after all.
Meanwhile, outside the city, the battle raged on. The Silent Death Duo, Nerina and Lyra, fought relentlessly, their bodies aching from the prolonged combat. The demon horde seemed endless, pushing them to their limits. Blood stained the streets, bodies piled high, and yet, the enemy kept coming.
Just as exhaustion threatened to slow their movements, a radiant light descended from the heavens. A divine presence washed over the battlefield, filling the weary warriors with renewed strength.
"The Goddess… Astoria…" Lyra whispered, feeling a surge of holy energy flow through her veins.
Astoria's celestial form hovered above them, her presence like a beacon of hope. "You have fought bravely," she declared. "Let my blessing aid you."
A golden aura enveloped the defenders of Eden, easing their fatigue, soothing their wounds, and reigniting their strength. With renewed vigor, Nerina struck down another Demon King, absorbing his essence into her being. The rush of power made her tremble with exhilaration.
"Another one falls," she muttered with a grin. "Let's keep going."
Lyra, now recovered, surged forward, engaging the last two Demon Kings in a furious duel. With precise strikes, she whittled them down, breaking their defenses one by one. Finally, with a final explosion of power, the last Demon King collapsed, his corrupted energy dissipating into the air.
With the elites eliminated, the two warriors turned their focus to the remaining low-class demons. They pushed forward, cutting down the lesser creatures in waves. Victory was within reach.
But just as they started to believe the battle was won, an unnatural chill spread through the battlefield.
A massive void gate ripped open at the city's border. From within its swirling darkness, an eerie voice boomed:
"Pathetic lowborn´s. Did you think you had won?"
A towering figure stepped through, his presence suffocating. A Demon God had arrived.
On either side of him stood two hulking Demon Lords, their monstrous forms exuding malice.
"Slaughter them," the Demon God commanded.
Then, from the depths of the void, a deafening screech filled the air. Thousands of insectoid demons, each the size of a human, poured forth like a living flood, their razor-sharp mandibles clacking in hunger.
Nerina and Lyra readied themselves, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
The real battle had just begun.