Everyone's Greed
It was a truly grueling raid, driven by everyone's selfish ambitions, but things would only get tougher from here on out. Sure, we'd start syncing up better as a team, get more accustomed to this world, and gradually draw out our characters' full potential. But monsters don't just sit still—they grow too. Even that rampaging fire spirit, which we'd dismissed as just a low-level achievement raid mob, wiped out half the raid group.
Of course, you could argue it was just an accident because we weren't gunning for a total wipe mechanic in pursuit of stability. But that's nothing more than an excuse. Raids and dungeons in higher-level zones, boss mobs—they'll only get trickier. Would excuses hold water when people start dying there? Who knows.
"Though it wasn't my intention, it's largely my fault that half the raid died and we nearly wiped. I'm sorry."
That's what I said at the debrief on the raid's outcome, keeping my posture low. My eyes still couldn't handle the stares from all those men, so with the blindfold on, the only sign of remorse I could show was hanging my head and kneeling. It felt like I was some defeated general from ancient times. There might even be some disciplinary action or punishment coming my way.
But this was also a protest against the guild alliance for sending us out on a subjugation quest without proper prep or scouting—just rounding up bodies and calling it a day. I get it—no one wants to take responsibility as an individual. And fulfilling the king's request to hunt the rampaging fire spirit was key to solidifying us possessors' standing. So the guild leaders scrambled to send people. I understand, but that doesn't make it right.
Don't ever make me raid leader again. That was the hidden message in my protest.
"No, no. On the contrary, didn't Ivy make the raid a success and save half the group? And everyone made it back alive."
But like most people, they only cared about the results. Daesik's words of comfort drew hearty laughs and agreement from the others.
"Exactly. A few deaths mid-raid? You took down the rampaging fire spirit, resurrected everyone, and brought them all home safe. Ivy's got the makings of a great raid leader. And you're experienced, aren't you?"
"Yeah, we should be throwing a festival for this."
"It was beyond my capabilities."
"Haha, we'll talk more about that later. How about enjoying the festival in the meantime?"
"It'll be a good chance for us users to mingle too."
My opinion didn't seem to matter. In this meeting hall that now felt like pure formality, the guild masters chuckled with easy nonchalance.
A festival—how awkward. They dragged me here without even time to wash up or change, basically pimping out my face to the max. If Hanbyeol hadn't draped her cloak over me, I'd have been paraded naked and rope-bound like a prisoner under interrogation. Amid the laughing crowd, with me parked in the center of the meeting hall, Daesik murmured softly from right behind me.
"I know you're exhausted, Ivy, but please bear with it just a bit longer. It'll be over soon. Sorry."
At least he knew he should feel bad. Fine, whatever. Selling my face was one thing. I could always bring up not wanting raid leader duty next time we partied up.
But there was something I needed to say now. "A festival sounds nice, but the ones suffering resurrection aftereffects need rest. At least let them recover quietly..."
It was hard to get the words out, and everyone shot me down.
"Mental trauma from death heals best with a rowdy good time—no time to feel pain or sorrow. Their bodies are already fully healed with Heal, right? Leaving them holed up alone will just make them sick. We're not moping in some funeral parlor; we drink, play cards, let loose."
"Ivy's right. And no one actually died for good. Plus, it's the perfect time for a commemorative bash to reward everyone who's been slaving away in prisons till now."
"So saintly of you, Saintess—not flaunting your raid success but looking after the weary first. Those who suffered in prison would appreciate your care too."
They wrapped it in flowery bullshit, but it boiled down to one thing: Don't object to the festival. Whatever, it wasn't my call anyway, so I nodded meekly.
"If that's what you want, go ahead. It's not for me to weigh in."
"Then will our raid's MVP Saintess join too? It'll comfort everyone."
"Merit? I was totally out of place as raid leader. Everyone else carried harder. Please, next time..."
"Come on. We got these results because you stepped up. Anyway, enough of that—let's talk fun stuff. Like what to do at the festival. We'll doll you up even prettier, Ivy, prep games and food..."
"Budget? Pope's vault should cover it. Guy was loaded."
I was disgusted by how they fixated on the success and full return, ignoring the mid-raid deaths. And using me to liven things up? I deliberately let my weary legs give out, not bothering to steady myself. Sightless from the mishap, I slammed shoulder and head into the table before tumbling to the floor. Hanbyeol's robe slipped, exposing my bare shoulder to the chill—probably flashing the ropes binding my breasts and arms too.
Pain dampeners made it just a dull throb, but the crash was loud enough for some drama. I groaned and curled up convincingly as chairs scraped and footsteps rushed over.
"Oh dear, are you alright? We kept you too long without checking on you."
"Ahem. Ivy looks beat—let her rest first. How about it? We'll prep festival outfits and ideas she'll love, no pressure."
"Haha, great idea. Ahem, about clothes..."
"My outfit was just market stuff... burned up mid-raid. Others had temple priest robes and holy knight armor, so they were fine."
"Ahem, lucky bastards on-site. Anyway... I heard some fled mid-fight, abandoning the battle."
"Outrageous. Everyone's fighting for their lives, and they bail solo."
"Cowards, plain and simple."
How many of these loudmouths would crumble in the same spot? It pissed me off. Guild masters with no care for the dead or their recovery, just chasing juicy gossip. No clue why Daesik stayed silent. As someone helped me from the hall, I could picture them trash-talking my near-naked state and the deserters—infuriating. Me? Embarrassing, sure, but I'd live. Deserters? Light punishment or not, bad rep among users would stick forever. People forget good deeds fast but etch mistakes deep.
"Eve. You look pissed. Hurt bad? Or mad they just hand out empty honors, work us to death, and pocket the real gains?"
Laila was the one supporting me, apparently. Soon as we left the hall, she removed my blindfold and fussed over me—then got mad on my behalf. Shockingly, she'd nailed the core of those talks. No immediate loot for the raid closers, just empty praise and party plans.
"Throbbing a bit. If even you notice, Laila... how are those guys guild masters?"
Did the seat make the man, or did greedy types rise to lead guilds? Suddenly pitied Daesik navigating that cesspool. Hoped he wouldn't get tainted.
"Eve, ignoring me? I'm a succubus—think I can't spot human power plays?"
"Sorry. Forgot you're ancient. Sometimes I blank on you being a succubus."
"Teasing me about my age? Wow, after all I've put up with? Wanna hear me cry wahhh?"
"Crying's wahhh-wahhh. Or sob-sob."
"Don't wanna sob on the street instead of bed? Figure it out."
"..."
Her tone was chillingly sincere—I shut up. Laila, of all people. No beating facts with bravado.
"Kidding. Why freeze up? You'd love it anyway."
"...Not on the street."
"Humans are so dishonest. Why hush fun stuff? No harm, all pleasure, consensual? Fine, right? Succubi talking smut's just common sense. Blush away, Eve—it's cute."
"..."
No clue how to respond. I stared oddly; she just chuckled mysteriously, uhuhu.
"C'mon, let's go. Back home..."
"Back home for what?"
Hanbyeol's voice— she'd stepped out for a bit while I was in the meeting.
"L-Little mage?"
"Wonder what you'd do to sis back home. Wanna share with me?"
"Uh... Tie her to bed, tease and torment till she passes out exhausted."
"Laila?!"
Has she lost it? She always got pummeled around Hanbyeol, but this sudden turbo? My heart dropped. Hanbyeol looked serene; Laila trembled with laughter.
"Hanbyeol, it's a joke. Yeah, succubus humor. Never consented—I'm not some slut handing it out."
Why was I explaining? Anyway, before Hanbyeol dusted Laila mid-street, I desperately clarified. Hanbyeol, pouting innocently up at Laila, turned to me with a sweetly murderous smile.
"Sis. Think I'd complain if you fooled around? You're an adult. If vibes match, have fun."
"Right? Mage gets it better than you. Ow!"
"Don't butt in."
"Yes'm..."
Hanbyeol's staff bonked Laila's head—crack. Worried for her skull, but tougher than humans, Laila just rubbed it and pouted.
"Anyway, if sis likes it, fine. But you're too nice—if Laila drags you despite no..."
"I don't rape! What kinda succubus am I?"
"Dream demons hustle like that, no?"
"Not if they don't want it."
"...I never said I wanted it."
"Pfft, you'd have stayed dry if not."
"..."
How many resist raw stimulation? Absurd—I flapped my lips at Laila but couldn't curse. Not in front of Hanbyeol—she'd learn.
"Sis, just think of me seriously later. Till then, play free... long as no real harm?"
Hanbyeol's openness felt too much—sarcasm? I groveled again. "No, Hanbyeol. It's... today's my turn, right? Yeah, Laila? So no wild stuff tonight."
"Sure, whatever. But dinner belly and dessert belly are separate—dessert's sweeter."
"...Hanbyeol. You worked solo DPS hard today. Massage? Or dinner...?"
Unsure if test or tolerance, I clung to Hanbyeol to escape Laila's clinginess—and it worked. Danger faded; she beamed brightly.
"Date invite?"
"Uh, yeah. Cravings? No raid payout yet, but Iris's prayer cash is left..."
"Yay. Gonna bleed your wallet dry. Brace yourself."
"Wait, clothes first..."
Still just panties, rope scraps barely covering tits under Hanbyeol's robe, but she hooked my waist, leading to the bustling streets regardless. One gust and I'd flash like a barbarian—I tiptoed anxiously, clutching the hem. Laila, eyeing her lost prey, smacked her lips and trailed us.
"Buy me some too!"
"Nope. Sis buys for me only. Here's cash—fend for yourself."
"That's not buying."
"Different."
"Kinda same..."
"Less same?"
"...Yeah, different now."
Laila pivoted fast.