Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Libyan, she was never one for romance and yet laying in bed beside Tariyaan something strange tugged at her heartstrings. Watching a man worthy of her body whistling in his sleep, his body bare of clothes and a gentle expression on his lips–what was it about this feeling? Why did she feel sorry for such a devil? He was strong, he was manipulative, but more than that, he was a scum worse than scum, and yet, she felt sympathy.

'Men like him raped you when you were young and weak of the heart, Libyan…Do not succumb to weakness, you're not a man's toy to be played around with, you're no one's toy and you belong to nobody.' Distancing herself from such thoughts, she slipped out of the massive bed that was required to keep her body off the ground. Shifting her tail into a pair of legs, she walked over to the vanity table and decided to self-reflect in the mirror.

Her radiant beauty was unmatched, nobody could compare to the sharp look in her eyes. A woman once tormented for her weakness, her entire clan nearly wiped by other races, she was a survivor–a survivor that could not be chained, not even by the burning chains of hell. In spite of that, she felt inadequate in her reflection, as if something had gone wrong in recent days.

She felt drained of power despite being stronger than ever before, she felt aged despite not ageing at all, she felt like a monster and although she was her reflection had never made her seem as so.

"Weakling…" It wasn't that she'd grown weak, but the emergence of emotion in her heart was making her feel disgusted with herself. "Your poison can fell any man any woman, so what it is that you're waiting for?"

Looking at Tariyaan through the reflection in the gnarly mirror held by a bloody rib cage, she was made to wonder why it was that she no longer wished to sink her fangs into his body and take the throne for herself. Even as the two monsters made love to each other, she had kept herself from sinking her nails into his skin, for the poison in them might not have killed him, but at the very least paralyzed him on top of her.

'Do it, Libyan–weakness will be your end. You can't afford to be weak, you already know what happens then…' A flash of her past made her click her tongue in frustration. Shaking her head, she tried to keep the tears away and yet they drained down her eyelids. 'You're a child then! You're a child now! Stop crying your whore!'

The insults only made things worse, for once the monster was trying to accept herself. However, with acceptance came the realization that it would make her much weaker than she was, and perhaps then this hell would consume her.

'AGHHHH! I NEED TO GO OUT!' Pulling herself off the vanity table, Libyan headed out of the room, her body still bare of clothes. Turning her legs back into a tail, she coated her breasts and the rest of her body in shimmering opal scales. Making them appear as clothes with only her cleavage, her back and her face being unaffected, she walked down the blood-soaked halls with organs of the damned scattered everywhere.

Hiding in dark corners of the same corridors were many small imps feasting on the dead. Tearing each other's wings for the rotting flesh, they acted as if they were all dying of hunger even though there were plenty of damned to torment.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU RATS!" Their actions, a reminder of her own past, angered Libyan. And hearing her scream, the imps scattered screaming in an instant. Fearful of her more than they were of Tariyaan, the rats disappeared without a trace in a matter of a few seconds.

'Acting like children…when will these rats learn?' Standing still at the spot from where she'd screamed at them, she couldn't help but think of her own children as well. A hiveful of her clan members, most of them, not her blood and thus she cared for them naught. But then came flooding to her, the memory of Phos and Maine both. 'Phos, I saw her suffering in the flames and crying out to me as if I would save her, a weakling…' Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

Her words were hollow, she was trying to convince herself that she did not care. Those girls were perhaps the only two she ever cared for, but her love was tough and even there there was no room for weakness. Provided with everything by others, sitting in their rooms and toying with their male slaves, that was the life of her girls, and would she have allowed it to be had she not loved them?

'I can take over Maine whenever I want, I don't love that girl–not if she's weak enough to fall in some random man's spell…' That thought made her wonder if her daughter could've ever survived the childhood that she had. Slaves to orcs and all other more powerful species inside the swamps, used as toys right out of their eggs, the only things Libyan remembered, is being used in the worst of ways and then cannibalizing the dead.

Until one day, she ate another race and realized that she had the power to gain the strength of any other species that she ingested.

'Everything changed after that, didn't it? I wonder if I hadn't, would I still have been alive?' She pondered, and the answer even to her was clear as day. 'Nonsense, your resilience is what has carried you so far, now's not the time to be weak.'

Her resolve renewed, Libyan vowed to kill Tariyaan soon. But for now, it was time for her to clear her head, and what better way than to brutalize the weaker monsters inside the cryptic palace? Violent by nature, she couldn't help but crave blood despite the outburst of emotions she'd felt just a moment ago, and because of that some monsters were about to experience the worst torment present in the hell, that is, Libyan herself.