...Eros stepped forward with grace that silenced the very stone beneath his feet. His hand, smooth yet impossibly strong, gently rested upon Belamorte’s trembling shoulder.
Violet and Alexis blinked. He was touching the demon?
"Rise," Eros said, voice low and rich with authority. "You’ve done well."
Belamorte’s breath caught. "My lord...?"
Eros leaned down and, in a move that stunned even Amanda and Ngozi, pulled the incubus into a tight embrace. The demon froze, uncomprehending. Then, for the first time in what must have been centuries, Belamorte gave in... he wept. Quietly. Brokenly.
"You guarded what you could," Eros said near his ear. "You survived. That’s more than most. And your Queen... she is still my woman. I’m going to find her."
He pulled away, still gripping the demon’s shoulders, looking into his glowing eyes.
"I will break this curse."
Violet’s voice cut in like a whip. "Are you serious?! Black Lightning Dragon, what are you doing? That thing—they—are demons!"
Alexis was right beside her, glaring. "This is a dungeon! They’re supposed to be enemies! What part of this is worth saving?"
But Eros didn’t flinch.
"They are now my people," he said simply. "And I will not abandon them to rot under someone else’s curse."
The silence that followed was thicker than smoke.
Even Violet’s long violet hair, which coiled defensively behind her like a living whip, stilled mid-air in shock.
"You should listen to them."
The voice was like oil and venom poured into the wind.
A blade shimmered into view—its edge glowing golden and black—and it was pressed right to Alexis’s throat.
Gasps rang out. Even Ngozi flinched, her dagger halfway drawn.
Eros turned, calm but cold.
Standing behind Alexis was Luke.
He grinned. But his eyes—red-rimmed, twitching—held the weight of obsession and madness. His other hand gripped her shoulder with bruising strength.
"Hello, darling," he purred, licking her neck slowly. Alexis shivered with disgust. "Still smell like strawberries and arrogance."
"Let her go," Violet growled, already moving to flank him.
Luke didn’t flinch. Eros saw it. Luke’s eyes. It seemed like the curse of the dungeon had already gone to his head. He was entering a frenzied state already.
"No, no. I heard everything. I’ve been following you all the way down. Isn’t that funny?" He gave a breathy laugh. "Your Alpha here... planning to defeat the intruder. Planning to become a hero."
His eyes shifted to Eros. "But I’m not stupid. I know what comes after."
He jabbed the blade slightly, drawing a thin line of blood from Alexis’s neck. She clenched her teeth.
"You’re going to take that golden anchor stone, and try to destroy it or hide it or—whatever you do with power. But that’s my salvation. My prize. I am going to use it and pressure that old man isaac to retire and make me the next Grandduke, since his granddaughter here, does not want to spread her legs for me." Even though he said this, his fingers paraded her body like it was something he could not wait to explore.
His smile cracked wide.
"So here’s the deal. You go ahead. Fight this dungeon’s king, or god, or whatever freak is in charge down here. And when you win, you give me the stone. Gladly."
His fingers dug harder into Alexis’s jaw.
"Or I rip her throat out. Right here. Right now."
Eros’s brow furrowed—but he didn’t move. Not yet.
His expression darkened like a thundercloud rolling over a dead plain.
The air was thick with menace. A single drop of blood slipped down Alexis’s neck. No one dared move.
Eros’s laughter thundered through the cavern like a breaking mountain. It wasn’t light or careless. It was heavy. Dark. Mocking.
He slapped his thigh once, then pointed lazily at Luke with a flick of his wrist. "Alright then," he said, voice casual. "Go ahead. Kill her."
Luke blinked. "...What?"
Eros shrugged. "She’s still your wife, isn’t she? Sounds like your problem."
Luke’s eyes twitched.
Even Alexis went wide-eyed, confusion and fury at war on her face.
Eros didn’t spare her a glance. He simply turned—utterly unbothered—and clapped Belamorte on the shoulder again. "Lead the way."
"Yes, my lord," the incubus said immediately, glancing nervously back at the blade to the woman’s neck. But Eros showed no concern.
"Wait—Black Lightning Dragon!" Violet shouted. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"Let’s go," Eros said simply, motioning for Amanda and Ngozi to follow.
The two women exchanged a single glance.
Not a word passed between them.
Then they turned and followed their man without question.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Luke screamed behind them. "I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL GUT HER RIGHT HERE—"
But no one looked back.
His hand began to shake.
"YOU THINK I’M BLUFFING?!"
And that was when he snapped.
Driven mad with insult and panic, Luke dug his foot into the cracked cavern floor and lunged forward, blade arcing through the air—
Aiming for Eros’s exposed back.
Eros grinned. Sideways. A grin full of cruel delight.
Meanwhile... Outside the Dungeon, another storm was brewing.
Through the thick veil of snowfall and jagged trees, a procession of shadows emerged—disciplined, armored, and without hesitation. They moved like a wave of black iron and white frost, boots crunching in unison against the frozen forest floor. The Grand Order had arrived.
Their silver insignias ans masks gleamed with a hateful brilliance under the pale winter sun. Banners bearing the mark of this cult were high in the air.
But this was no mere holy pilgrimage.
This was a brazen invasion.
And they were marching directly toward the caves—ancestral home of the Medusas and the Nagas.
From within the icy caverns nestled in the cliffside, eyes watched—slitted and glowing.
And high above, standing tall and proud on a natural stone balcony dusted in snow, Queen Eli narrowed her eyes at the advancing legion. Her breath formed small clouds in the air, but her expression was cold as marble.
She turned sharply to her warriors.
"Raise the shields," she said.
No panic. No hesitation.
The sound of ancient soul runes granted by Eros hummed to life. From the peaks and ledges around the sacred caves, serpent mages and warriors chanted in unison. Shields—shimmering, serpentine, and pulsating with violet light—grew to life, wrapping around the mountain’s heart like a divine cocoon.
And still the Grand Order marched.