"[Freeze]!" I roared, activating my skill without a second's delay.
The Basilisk's surprise attack had left me no time to react earlier, but now, facing it head-on, I seized the moment needed to unleash my A-rank skill.
Crack! The Basilisk froze solid in an instant, its form shattering into glittering shards that scattered across the wetland's muck. Even a fearsome A-rank monster stood no chance against a skill that could have felled a dragon in a single blow.
"Karen, are you okay?!" I rushed to her side, my heart pounding as I helped her up, my hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.
"Haa… haa…" Her face was alarmingly pale, her breaths shallow and strained, and the black veins were creeping further across her skin. The situation was dire.
Without hesitation, I cast [Recovery] (Small), hoping to stabilize her condition.
"Fuu…" Karen exhaled, her breathing easing slightly, her body relaxing a fraction.
The C-rank skill seemed to have restored some of her stamina, buying us a moment's reprieve. But [Recovery] (Small) couldn't neutralize poison—it was a healing skill, not a cure. It was a band-aid on a festering wound, far from a solution.
"We've got to detoxify her somehow…" I muttered, my mind racing for options.
Karen's earlier warning echoed in my head: "Poison antidote herbs won't work on their venom. If you get bitten, only a high-level cleric's detoxification magic can save you—and it's a race against time."
"We're finding a cleric. Just… hold on a little longer, Karen," I said, my voice firm despite the knot of fear in my chest.
"E-eh… yeah…" she whispered, struggling to her feet, her movements slow but determined.
She nodded right.
"Good, let's go!" I said, supporting her as we retraced our steps, abandoning the wetland. The second Basilisk could wait—saving Karen was the only priority now.
We emerged from the swamp and hurried back to town, the streets a blur as we made a beeline for the temple. Bursting through its doors, I explained Karen's condition to the first cleric I saw, my words tumbling out in urgency.
"The High Priestess should know detoxification skills," the cleric said, his tone calm but professional.
"Can we see her? Now?" I pressed, my voice tight.
"With a modest donation—" the cleric began.
"I'll cover it," Karen interrupted, her voice weak but resolute. Her face had grown paler, the black veins more pronounced. [Recovery] (Small) had slowed the poison's progress, but her stamina was waning again.
"I'm an S-Class adventurer. Money's not an issue," she added, her pride shining through despite her condition.
"...Understood. This way," the cleric said, leading us to a chamber deep within the temple, its walls adorned with serene murals and soft candlelight.
"Well, well, visitors? Another detox job?" A woman's voice greeted us, warm and slightly amused. She was a priestess, perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties, with an air of quiet authority. Her robes hugged a graceful figure, and her eyes held a knowing glint.
"I'm Marsha," she introduced herself, her gaze settling on Karen. "That lady adventurer's been poisoned, hasn't she? Let's take a look."
As Marsha approached, I felt a flicker of hope. If she was the High Priestess with the skill to save Karen, we'd have made it just in time—but every second still counted.
Marsha was a striking figure, her shoulder-length black hair framing a serene, beautiful face, her violet eyes exuding a calm yet captivating intensity. Her blue clerical robes, adorned with a deep slit at the waist, revealed a glimpse of her alluring thighs, a detail that sent an involuntary jolt through me.
Focus, Kairi. I chided myself, shaking off the distraction.
"Hey, you there—help her onto the bed," Marsha instructed, her voice firm but not unkind.
I gently laid Karen on the bed, her breaths coming in harsh, uneven gasps. Her pallor had worsened, the black veins spreading further. This is bad… her strength's fading fast.
"Hmm, the poison's spread quite a bit," Marsha observed, her tone professional as she leaned over Karen. With a deft motion, she opened Karen's shirt, exposing her well-shaped chest. Despite the gravity of the moment, I couldn't help but swallow hard, my eyes lingering.
"Hey, turn around," Marsha said, catching my gaze. "Or are you two lovers, used to this sort of thing?"
"N-not exactly used to it… And, well, we're not quite lovers either," I mumbled, scratching my head, feeling oddly exposed under her scrutiny.
"Interesting," Marsha said, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
"Uh, I'll turn around," I added quickly, flustered by how easily she drew the truth out of me. Something about her piercing gaze made me spill more than I intended.
"It's… okay… you can look…" Karen's weak voice cut through, surprising me.
I turned back to her, her eyes meeting mine, vulnerable and pleading. "Please… hold my hand…"
"Karen…?" My heart clenched as I took her hand, her grip frail but desperate. Her face was etched with fear, her eyes wide and shimmering with unease. Is she… scared of dying?
The realization hit me hard—her condition was worse than I'd feared. The poison was taking its toll, and she was grappling with the weight of mortality.
"You're going to be fine, Karen," I said, my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest. I tightened my grip on her hand. "I'm right here with you."
"When you're healed… We'll tackle more quests together, okay?"
"Yeah… I want… to stay with you longer," she whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips, her voice soft but filled with longing.
"Me too, Karen," I said, locking eyes with her, my resolve hardening. Her smile widened, a flicker of joy breaking through her pain, warming my heart.
"Alright, lovebirds, sorry to interrupt, but it's detox time," Marsha interjected, her tone playful yet authoritative as she stepped between us.
"Don't worry, Karen—Marsha's got you," she assured, her voice brimming with confidence. Then, turning to me, her violet eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "You're quite the devoted one, aren't you? I like that… fufu."
Her gaze held a sultry edge, a subtle allure that made my pulse quicken. "Uh, Marsha…?" I said, caught off guard.
"There's something about you," she murmured, her voice low and warm. "Looking at you… it makes my heart race."
Her words carried a heat that felt almost too personal, her mysterious eyes studying me with unmistakable interest.
Is this… [Charm (Intermediate)] at work?