The party trudged along the winding forest path, sunlight filtering through the canopy above. It had been a long journey back from the Incubus King’s lair, and Percival was starting to wonder if all legendary heroes suffered from sore feet and chronic exhaustion.
His companions, however, didn’t seem to be feeling the same fatigue. If anything, they were spending more time flirting with him than focusing on the road.
“You fought well, Percival,” Melisentia said, walking beside him, her armor gleaming in the dappled light. “Your bravery in the battle against the Incubus King was commendable.”
“Er… thanks?” Percival rubbed the back of his neck. “But honestly, I don’t think I did much. If anything, I kinda just—”
“Stumbled into victory?” Helen interjected with a smirk. “Yes, yes, we were all there, sweetie.”
“Y-you don’t have to put it like that,” he grumbled.
“Oh, but she does,” Ariana added, clasping her hands together with an innocent smile. “It was truly inspiring how you heroically tripped and impaled the Incubus King. A perfect example of divine guidance.”
“It was luck,” Percival muttered under his breath.
“Fate,” Melisentia corrected.
“Embarrassing,” Harmonie chimed in. “How does someone trained to be a hero mess up that badly?”
“You are aware you missed your dagger throw, right?” Helen pointed out.
“I meant to do that,” Harmonie huffed, crossing her arms.
“No, you didn’t,” Ingrid said bluntly. “And I still don’t trust him.” She pointed at Percival. “This whole ‘accidental hero’ thing is suspicious. What kind of man gets a party of women following him around unless he’s some kind of pervert?”
“Maybe one chosen by destiny?” Melisentia offered.
“Or maybe one tragically incapable of picking up on social cues?” Helen suggested, grinning.
Percival sighed. This was his life now. But as they neared the Elven village, their playful banter came to an abrupt halt. The sight that greeted them was not the peaceful, tree-lined settlement they expected. No, the village was still under attack. And by attack, that meant something much more disturbing. The Fae-Succubus hybrids were still here.
“Oh, come on,” Percival groaned.
The glittery-winged, overly attractive, absurdly dressed minions of the Incubus King were fluttering about, clinging to Elven villagers, whispering sweet nothings, and in some cases, dramatically swooning into their arms.
A group of Elven guards was attempting to fight back, but their efforts were... questionable at best. One archer’s bow trembled in his hands as a hybrid leaned in, batting her lashes at him. Another Elf had quite literally dropped his sword when a succubus traced a finger under his chin. The party watched in silence as one poor Elf—previously a proud warrior—was now giving a piggyback ride to a giggling hybrid, his soul clearly halfway out of his body.
Helen broke the silence first. “...This is so much funnier than it should be.”
Melisentia shook her head. “How has this not been handled yet?”
“I dunno,” Ariana said, tilting her head. “I think they like it.”
“We defeated the Incubus King,” Percival said, exasperated. “Why are they still here?”
“Uh, guys?” Harmonie pointed at a nearby Elf woman, who was standing there unimpressed as two hybrids tried—and failed—to seduce her.
“I think we just found the problem.”
One of the hybrids let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh. Why are all the women in this village so boring?”
“I know, right?” another one whined. “No fun at all. Why do they get immunity?”
The answer was obvious. The Fae-Succubi were only targeting men. Ingrid cracked her knuckles. “Alright. We burn them.”
“Hold on,” Helen said. “Let’s not be too hasty.”
“You’re defending them?!” Ingrid snapped.
“I just think we should consider all the options before jumping straight to incineration.” Helen’s grin widened. “Besides, I wanna see how many more of these poor Elven men break before we fix this.”
“Helen...” Harmonie glowered at her darkly.
“Fine, fine.” Helen sighed. “Let’s deal with them properly.”
“Any ideas?” Percival asked.
The party exchanged glances. Unfortunately, it seemed that the singular brain cell they shared between them had decided it was lunchtime, and hence, no new plans were forthcoming.
“Well,” Melisentia said, “We could fight them again.”
“I don’t think that’ll help,” Harmonie said. “We beat their boss, and they’re still here.”
“Maybe we should round up all the men and lock them in a big anti-seduction bunker?” Ariana suggested.
“We’re not locking an entire village of men away!” Percival protested.
“Oh, so you have a better idea?” Ingrid snapped.
“I—uh—” Percival looked around helplessly. “There has to be a way to stop them for good, right?”
“We should ask the village elder,” Harmonie said. “If anyone knows how to get rid of these things, it’ll be them.”
“Fine.” Ingrid cracked her knuckles again. “But if the elder’s answer is ‘just let them finish seducing everyone,’ I’m punching the problem away.”
With that, the party hurried toward the village’s elder, dodging swooning elves and glittering succubi as they went. As they ran, Percival couldn’t shake a single thought: Am I really the hero they need? Because at this rate, he wasn’t sure if he was going to save the world or just be the confused bystander watching everything spiral into chaos.
====
The party made their way through the chaos of the Elven village, dodging Fae-Succubi who were too busy tormenting Elven men to notice them. The deeper they went, the clearer it became—this wasn’t just an attack. This was an infestation.
Elves—once known for their dignity and grace—were currently struggling with the very concept of standing. Some were lying on the ground, exhausted from being aggressively flirted with for hours. Others were pinned against trees, murmuring weak protests as the hybrids leaned in too close. And a few had simply accepted their fates, staring blankly at the sky, their spirits visibly shattered.
“I can’t believe this,” Harmonie muttered, rubbing her temples. “My people have fallen to this?”
“It’s pretty funny,” Helen admitted, watching an Elf attempt to escape—only to get yanked back into the arms of a particularly clingy hybrid.
“I swear, if one of them moans while being carried away, I’m burning the village myself,” Ingrid growled.
Percival, for his part, was just trying to not get noticed. He had a very bad feeling that if the hybrids saw him, their attentions might shift from the Elves to him—and he really didn’t want to find out what would happen. The girls might get a bit jumpy if they tried something. Finally, they reached the Elder’s home—a massive tree with a door carved into it. Without knocking, Harmonie threw it open.
“Elder! We have a problem!”
Inside, an elderly Elf sat at a wooden table, sipping tea. She barely glanced up, completely unaffected by the chaos outside.
“Oh, Princess Harmonie. You’ve returned,” she said, voice calm, wise, and frustratingly unconcerned. “How was your journey?”
“We beat the Incubus King!” she snapped. “So why is the village still—” She gestured vaguely outside. “—like this?!”
The Elder took another slow sip of tea. “Well,” he said, “the Incubus King’s demise was certainly a good step forward. But as you can see, his followers remain.”
“Yes, we noticed,” Percival said, glancing outside as an Elf let out a helpless whimper.
“The hybrids,” the Elder continued, “Were created by the magical energy of the Incubus King. But that magic is still lingering. It will take time before they lose interest and leave.”
“How much time?” Melisentia asked.
The Elder took another sip. “Hmm. Perhaps... a century?”
Silence took a stern grip over the room for a long moment. It had an awkward presence, messy and Then, at the moment they could not take it anymore -
“Are you kidding me?” Ingrid roared. “You expect the men to just endure this for a hundred years?!”
“Oh, they’ll adapt,” the Elder said, waving a hand. “Elves are very resilient, and we live long lives.”
“They are getting their souls drained in the streets!”
“Yes, but consider: Some of them might enjoy it.”
Ariana giggled. “I mean, he has a point.”
“NO, HE DOESN’T,” Harmonie shrieked.
Percival pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you’re saying the only reason they’re still here is because of... leftover Incubus magic?”
The Elder nodded. Gosh,
“Well, can’t we cleanse it somehow?” Melisentia asked. “Surely there’s a way to rid the village of this energy?”
The Elder paused, then slowly, achingly, set down her tea. Everyonewatched with bated breath, while the sounds of erotic moans began to grow louder from outside. Come on. Come on!
“Well,” she admitted, “there is a method.”
The party collectively leaned in to listen more closely.
“We would need a pure-hearted hero to absorb the lingering Incubus magic into themselves,” the Elder explained. “This would draw the Fae-Succubi away from the village... and onto them instead.”
Silence returned with a vengeance. Everyone slowly turned to look at Percival, even the silence itself. He slowly blinked while his brain processed what they'd been told.
“...Oh. No. Absolutely not.”
“Hmm,” Helen mused. “Pure-hearted, huh?”
“Sounds like it fits Percival,” Melisentia added.
“I—I am not volunteering for this!” Percival protested.
“Oh, so you’re not pure-hearted?” Ariana asked sweetly. “Then I guess we’ll have to find another hero to—”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT.”
Harmonie sighed, rubbing her temples. “Is there any other way?”
“Well, we could try purging the magic by performing an ancient Elven cleansing ritual,” the Elder said.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Percival exhaled.
“But,” the Elder continued, “it involves a village-wide ceremonial bath. Everyone must strip and immerse themselves in the sacred waters to—”
“Nope.” Ingrid stood up. “We’re going with the first plan.”
“You were literally just threatening to burn everything,” Helen pointed out.
“Yeah, and a fire still sounds better than a ‘sacred naked bonding experience’ with these creeps.” She jabbed a thumb at the window, where another Elf was currently being serenaded by a hybrid singing a sultry song about his ‘beautiful soul.’ While fairly blatantly pushing its tits right into his chest.
“So, then,” Melisentia said, turning back to Percival.
“Absolutely not,” he repeated.
“Hero,” Harmonie said, folding her arms.
“Look, I—I get that I’m supposed to be the chosen one, but—” He looked outside at the swarm of hybrids, all shimmering wings and seductive smiles, and felt actual terror. “There’s no way I’m doing that alone.”
“Fine,” Helen said, shrugging. “We’ll go with you.”
“Wait, what?”
“Well, obviously we’re not just throwing you to the horny wolves,” Harmonie grumbled. “You’d last five minutes before you panicked and fell off a cliff or something.”
Percival was both offended and unable to argue.
“So... what?” he asked hesitantly. “We lure them into a trap?”
“Essentially,” the Elder said. “You and your companions will act as bait, drawing the hybrids away from the village. Then, once they’re contained, you can dispel the magic properly.”
Percival let out a slow breath.
“Okay. Okay. That’s... manageable.”
Then the Elder added, “Of course, to make sure you’re irresistible bait, you will have to wear traditional Elven ceremonial garments.”
That silence really was a son of a bitch, couldn't tell where it wasn't wanted and just would not stay gone.
Helen grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be great.”
Percival groaned. “I already hate this plan.”
The Elder simply nodded. “Then it is settled.”
And outside, the Fae-Succubi continued their siege of seduction—completely unaware that, very soon, they were about to meet their greatest challenge yet: One reluctant hero. And his six very chaotic companions. It's harder to say who to feel sorrier for - the hybrids or the village.
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