Evelyn stopped pacing and turned to face them, her head tilted curiously. "Leave? Why ever would you want to leave? This place is magnificent. A testament to the Goddess's power."
She gestured vaguely at the torture chamber. "A cathedral of pain and rebirth."
"Please," Miriel pleaded softly. "We must return. The Church, my duties… people are waiting for us."
Evelyn scoffed, a dismissive sound. "Duties? To whom? To the blind fools on the surface who worship false gods? Who know nothing of true divinity?"
She began walking towards the opposite end of the chamber, her heels clicking sharply on the stone. "Come then. If you must be so tedious. I know the paths, the secret ways."
Hanry exchanged a wary glance with Miriel before following. They had no choice but to trust her. Again.
They walked through twisting, dimly lit corridors lined by more disturbing evidence of Evelyn's "hospitality." Hanry finally broke the tense silence. "So, you live here? In this place?"
Evelyn let out a tinkling laugh. "Live? I reside. I exist. I commune. This place, it called to me. When I was lost, wandering in the darkest pits of my own making…" She trailed off, her eyes distant. "… she found me. She showed me the light."
"The Goddess?" Miriel ventured, trying to understand. "Who is she? What is her name?"
Evelyn's eyes snapped back to the present, her gaze locking onto Miriel, fanatical intensity burning in her eyes. "The Goddess? She is… everything. She is life. She is death. She is creation and destruction. She is the source of all power, the wellspring of all desire."
Her voice rose in fervent adoration. "She saved me when I was at my lowest. When I was nothing but pain and despair, a broken shell cast into the abyss. She lifted me up, showed me the beauty of the flesh, the sacredness of suffering. She gave me purpose!"
"But… who is she?" Hanry pressed, frustrated by the vagueness. "What is her name?"
Evelyn stopped abruptly, turning to face them. Her eyes blazed with a zealot's fire. "You seek her name? Fools! Her name is unutterable to mortal tongues! She exists beyond words, beyond form! She is the primal force, the eternal deity given shape by divine will!"
She gestured wildly, her movements frantic. "You will feel her presence soon enough. You will understand when she chooses to reveal herself. And when she does…"
Evelyn leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "… oh, when she does… it will be the most glorious moment of your short, miserable lives."
She then spun on her heel and resumed walking, muttering to herself. "… must prepare the offering… the chosen vessels must be ready…"
Hanry and Miriel shared a helpless, confused look. Every question led only to more riddles, more disturbing glimpses into the woman's fractured psyche and the ominous, unseen presence she worshiped.
They continued through the oppressive corridors, their unease deepening with every step, following the nut job who held their fate in her unpredictable, bloodstained hands.
Their journey through the labyrinthine dungeon was anything but peaceful.
Suddenly, a chorus of high-pitched shrieks echoed from a side passage ahead. Three Goblins burst into the corridor, crude knives held high, eyes glinting with malice. They were followed by two slime oozed forward, leaving glistening trails.
Instinctively, Hanry pushed Miriel behind him and raised his fists. He braced himself, muscles tense.
Miriel raised her book, golden light flickering weakly at her fingertips. She had enough mana for perhaps one healing spell, nothing offensive.
Before the squire could even take a step forward, Evelyn acted.
In a blur of motion almost too fast to follow, Evelyn surged forward. From beneath her long, black fingernails, razor-sharp claws extended – gleaming obsidian talons, easily 30 cm long and wickedly curved. They shimmered under the torchlight, dripping with some dark fluid.
She moved like a dancer of death. One claw slashed horizontally, decapitating the first goblin in a spray of red blood.
Before its body hit the ground, she had already spun, her other claw impaling the second goblin through the chest, lifting it off its feet with a sickening crunch.
The third goblin lunged, but she slipped aside in a movement of impossible grace, her claws flashing down in a brutal overhead strike that cleaved the creature from shoulder to groin.
She turned to the slimes. A low growl emanated from her throat. The claws whirred through the air, shredding the gelatinous bodies into quivering, dissolving chunks splattered against the walls and floor. The entire encounter lasted mere seconds.
Evelyn stood amidst the carnage, panting slightly, a feral grin on her face. The claws retracted, sliding back under her fingernails with an oily schlick. She casually wiped her hand on her bodysuit, leaving a smear of gore across the dark fabric.
"Pathetic," she sneered, nudging a goblin corpse under her heeled boot. "Fodder for the grinder. They never learn."
Hanry and Miriel stood frozen, jaws slack. They had seen her brutality earlier in the torture chamber, but witnessing this effortless, terrifying slaughter was different.
Hanry lowered his fists slowly, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Y-you…" he stammered.
Miriel pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. "So fast…"
Evelyn turned to face them, that unnerving smile back on her lips, smudged with a fleck of goblin blood. "Impressed? You should be. This is just a fraction of the Goddess's power she bestows upon me."
She gestured dismissively at the steaming corpses. "Shall we continue? The path is clear… for now."
Without waiting for a response, she strode over the dismembered bodies, her heels clicking on the blood-slicked stone.
Hanry and Miriel followed, stepping gingerly around the mess. Fear, awe, and deepening dread pounded through Hanry's heart.
Miriel clutched her book tighter, her knuckles white. The ease with which Evelyn dispatched the threats was terrifying.
What kind of monster were they following? What power did her 'Goddess' truly possess?
The journey through the dungeon was a surreal nightmare punctuated by Evelyn's effortless brutality. Every monster they encountered – Goblins, Slimes, Wolves, Spiders met the same swift, bloody end beneath those wicked claws.
The adventurer duo could only follow in stunned, terrified silence, witnesses to a force they could neither comprehend nor match.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they rounded a corner, and Hanry let out a gasp.
"There!" he cried, pointing ahead. A faint, unmistakable shaft of daylight illuminated the corridor ahead, revealing rough-hewn walls giving way to a more natural cave formation. "The surface! We made it!"
Miriel sagged in relief, tears springing to her eyes. "Thank the God! We're free!"
Hanry grabbed Miriel's hand. "Come on, Saintess! Let's get out of this cursed place!"
He started to run towards the distant light, dragging her behind. Evelyn, however, didn't move.
Hanry skidded to a stop as the crazy woman planted herself firmly in their path, one arm extended.
"Wait," she commanded, her voice cold.
"What now?" Hanry demanded, exasperation warring with fear. "The exit is right there! We're free! Get out of our way!"
Miriel touched Hanry's arm gently. "Evelyn… please… we are grateful for your help, truly. But we must return."
Evelyn ignored them. Her eyes were fixed on a point just beyond the curve of the corridor. A slow, chilling smile spread across her bloodstained face. "Oh. It appears we have company."
Before they could react, a hulking figure lumbered into view. It stood at least two meters tall, clad in armor.
It wielded a brutal, two-handed greatsword, its blade notched and stained with old blood. But what was most terrifying was the face.
A Hobgoblin whose features coarser, more brutal than its goblin kin. Its skin was a sickly green, scarred and leathery. But the eyes… they held a cunning, malicious intelligence that sent a jolt of pure terror through the duo.
"Oh. It's them," Evelyn said, her voice suddenly soft, almost playful. To their utter disbelief, she began to skip towards the Hobgoblin, her movements light and girlish, a stark contrast to the carnage she had just inflicted.
"Hi there!" she cooed and pointed back, batting her eyelashes. "Look what I found! Little lost lambs! Aren't they precious?"
The Hobgoblin stood immobile, watching Evelyn approach with cold eyes. It made no move to attack her.
Evelyn pranced around the Hobgoblin, trailing a finger down the armored chest. "So strong… so fierce…" she purred. "I bet you could crush them like little bugs, couldn't you?"
She leaned in conspiratorially. "Go on… show me. Show me how you make them squeal."
Hanry's blood ran cold. He pulled Miriel back instinctively, positioning himself between her and the threat. "Saintess… get ready to run."
Miriel nodded, she gripped her book tightly, but her hands were shaking.
The Hobgoblin remained statue-still, its gaze fixed on maniac's antics.
Then, in a movement so fast it was almost a blur, the Hobgoblin raised its giant greatsword. The blade arced downward.
SCHLICK-CRUNCH
Evelyn's head was severed cleanly from her shoulders. It bounced once on the stone floor and rolled several meters, coming to rest face-up. Her eyes were wide with surprise, the playful smile frozen forever in death. Her decapitated body crumpled bonelessly to the ground.
Hanry and Miriel stared in frozen horror at the headless corpse of their savior-turned-captor, then up at the Hobgoblin, who now turned its eyes upon them.
A cruel smile spread across its brutal face. The creature hefted its gore-slick sword and lumbered toward them, the intent unmistakable.