My legs scream as I jog through Valthorne's scrappy woods, N'Nazmuz's curse crushing me like I'm hauling a Gromble by its stumpy tail. Thirty kilograms of invisible weight shred my stamina, but I'm grinning, eyes glued to Bera and Lila atop my Zorath. Bera's in the skimpy skirt and top I bought after shredding her old dress in a tavern brawl—tight fabric hugging her curves, bare midriff shimmering like Zenoite dust, showing 80% of her body. She didn't expect such a bold set, but she's rocking it to burn Lila's nerves and keep my gaze locked. Lila's tunic clings to her earth-carved hips, swaying like a Crestmoore quake. I told them I'm running for stamina training, letting them ride. Truth? The curse makes every step a grind, forging my endurance. The view? Worth every cursed pound.
"Keep up, Supreme Elf!" Bera calls, her top straining against her chest. "My midriff stealing your breath?"
"It's art, Fire Queen," I wink, dodging a root. "Best coin I ever spent."
Lila snorts, thighs flexing. "Pathetic. My Earth Qi could outrun your drooling."
"Kinky race, Earth Queen," I smirk. "Your hips versus my stamina—deal?"
Their glares could split stone, but their flushed cheeks scream I'm winning. My stamina crashes, the curse sucking me dry. I stop, panting, hands on knees. Bera and Lila dismount, and I pounce. "Fire Queen, let me check that skirt's material," I say, fingers grazing her hip. It's a flimsy excuse, and her smirk says she knows.
"Pervert," Bera teases, swatting my hand but leaning closer, her midriff brushing my arm. "Like the feel?"
"Supreme quality," I purr, inching lower.
Lila shoves between us, eyes blazing. "Hands off, idiot," she snaps, her foot flying. I laugh, sprawling in the dirt as her kick grazes my cheek, savoring the chaos. "Nice aim," I say, winking. "Got one for my other side?"
"You're disgusting," Lila growls, her flush betraying her. Bera's laughing, skirt riding higher.
We resume jogging, but the curse hits again, and I collapse, gasping. Bera dismounts, and I grin. "Gotta check that top now," I say, reaching for the fabric near her chest. Lila lunges, foot arcing, but I pivot fast, dodging. My hands dart out, grabbing her ass, squeezing both cheeks hard. "Forgot how strong I grip, Earth Queen?" I taunt, smirking.
Lila's eyes blaze, secretly thrilled but furious. Her fist slams my nose, blood spurting as I hit the ground. I laugh, sprawled, wiping blood. Bera steps over me, fists clenched, ready to strike. Her skirt gives a full view—no panties. I grin. "Fire Queen, without that apron, you're flashing your kitty to everyone. Has it trimmed its fur lately? Maybe try some panties."
Bera's face goes crimson, rage and shame erupting. Her fist trembles, poised to smash my face. Lila's glare could melt Zenoite. "We're taking a longer break," Bera says, voice like a blade. Lila nods, eyes lethal. They descend on me—fists, kicks, a storm of fury. I'm laughing through the pain, loving the chaos, until darkness swallows me.
Half a day later, I wake in Starshade Hollow, a quiet clearing ringed by Luminous Oaks where we've camped. My nose throbs, body screaming, bruises blooming like bad art. Bera and Lila are training nearby, Bera's skirt swishing, Lila's punches shaking the ground. I grin, tasting victory despite the agony.
A voice cuts through. "Prankster, glory or destiny?" A luminescent fox stands there, fur sparkling like Crestmoore's veins, eyes gleaming with infuriating wisdom, voice calm as a still pond. My amulet pulses, nagging about ruins. Where'd this pest come from?
"Glory, Sparkles," I scoff, staggering up. "Destiny's for Vuk's moldy scrolls." Bera giggles, Lila smirks, and I'm itching to punt it. "Scram," I say, tossing a pebble from my spatial ring—Goran's gift from Opeka. It sidesteps, tail flicking. "Your path leads to ancient ruins," it says. Ruins? Yawn. Bera's bare stomach and Lila's tight ass? Divine.
"Ruins don't buy ale," I snap, jogging on. The fox trots beside me, serene, driving me nuts. I sprint, curse dragging, weaving through Luminous Oaks, faking a stumble. No luck—it keeps pace, unwinded. "Annoying little shit," I mutter."
Mind your tongue, Supreme Idiot," Lila says, smirking. "He's got more grace."
"Grace?" I clutch my chest. "Earth Queen, you're killing me. Kiss it better?"
Bera laughs, midriff gleaming. "Dream on, Killyaen. This fox's winning."
"Wisdom trumps chaos," the fox says. I lob Moonflower sap from my ring to gum its fur. It dodges, and the girls lose it, laughing.
"Nice aim, pervert!" Bera says. "Stick to kids."
"Kids are dull," I pant. "This fox is a supreme pain." It tilts its head. "The First Altars await." My amulet pulses, and we hit a clearing. A Zenoite runestone looms, etched with Azurion's wavy runes. The amulet's going wild.
"Touch it," the fox says, smug.
"Touch this," I flip a gesture. I slap the runestone, curse slowing me. A flash—Middle Sea waves, a voice whispering, "The First Altars await the Child." I stagger. Child? Garbage.
"Bad ale," I mutter. I pry a Zenoite shard, toss it into my ring. "Shiny junk," I say. "Like your hips, Earth Queen." Lila flushes, Bera glares, and I grin.
The sun dips low, and we set camp in Starshade Hollow, its shadows pooling under glowing oaks. I rig deadly traps—Moonflower sap nets, sharpened stakes, Glowvine tripwires—around the perimeter, my prankster instincts sharp. Bera cooks, her skirt teasing, while Lila sharpens her blade, muttering about my "idiocy." I'm plotting my glowing-coin prank for Crestmoore when shouts erupt. Six bandits, armed with rusty swords and clubs, charge from the woods, their eyes glinting with greed.
"Stay sharp!" I yell, pulling my mithril swords from my spatial ring. The blades gleam, light as air, cutting through the curse's drag. A sap net traps one bandit, his curses muffled as he flails. Another trips on a wire, a stake piercing his leg, his scream echoing. Bera hurls fireballs, her Qi sizzling, charring one bandit's arm. Lila's Earth Qi rumbles, spiking rocks into another's chest. The curse slows me, stamina fading, but my mithril swords dance with Wind's Rebuke, parrying a club. A sword grazes my shoulder, blood seeping, and I curse the weight dragging my limbs. Bera roasts a bandit's leg, Lila crushes another's ribs with earth spikes, and I finish the last with Thunder's Edge, my mithril blade slicing clean. His scream fades, and silence falls.
We collapse, bruised and bleeding, but alive. "Teamwork," I pant, grinning. Bera rolls her eyes, her top clinging to sweat-slicked curves. "Barely," Lila mutters, wiping blood from her knuckles. The fox is gone, probably smirking somewhere.
Morning comes, and I scout the bandits' camp nearby. Four Zoraths graze, their packs bulging. I dig through, finding heaps of silver coins, a handful of gold, two Level 1 Spirit Stones, Glowvine sprigs, tiny crystals, and a glowing egg pulsing with heartbeat sounds. Jackpot. I shove it all into my spatial ring, planning to sell most in Crestmoore, including two Zoraths. The other two I toss to Bera and Lila. "Ride like queens," I say, winking.
"Still an idiot," Lila says, mounting her Zorath, her hips a masterpiece. Bera smirks, midriff gleaming. "Keep dreaming, pervert."
The fox reappears, trotting smugly. "The blue relic in the quarry," it says. "Find it, or stay blind."
"Blind's my charm," I say, amulet pulsing. Crestmoore's dust hits, The Iron Bloom calling. Bera and Lila dismount, glares scorching. "You're carrying us next," Bera says, her top teasing.
"Anytime," I wink. "Crestmoore's getting my art." The fox fades, smirking. Destiny? Screw it. Chaos is my altar.