[ Baptising your Brain using holy water might help you a bit host. ]

'Wait...'

Suddenly, Viktor's hand halted on the hammer as he blinked before recalling something he had just forgotten, though not actually, as he recalled from holy water, a grin forming as he worked hard, but he being a man.

A man who is just like everyone is a unicorn—unicorns have horns above their skull leading first then their head—his dick, just ahead of his brain, from romantic lustful comparisons he made with his smithy and women, flashed a pink tight untouched slit dripping holy water...

Belonging to...

'If I recall those bandits words... Isn't this time that Priestess arrive from Monastery in Milbrook?'

Suddenly his hand stopped, turning as he blinked before he turned and moved out of the forge, calling out, "Rusty! Come here, we need to welcome a guest!"

"KYUU~ RAAAARRRGHHH!!"

----

THUD.

A figure collapsed at the edge of Millbrook Town, hitting the dirt road with all the grace of a fallen sack of potatoes.

"I—I arrived!"

The voice was feminine, breathless, trembling with exhaustion and relief.

She lay there flat on her back, arms and legs spread wide like a starfish. Her chest heaved with deep, desperate breaths—each inhale making her considerable breasts rise and bounce beneath the white priestess robes she wore.

The robes were traditional—modest in design, meant to cover from neck to ankle. But they'd seen better days. The fabric was torn in several places, stained with mud, grass, and what looked suspiciously like crocodile saliva. A simple cloth cloak draped over her body, equally worse for wear.

Her blonde hair—long and wavy, the color of wheat fields in summer—was a tangled mess spread around her head like a halo. Twigs and leaves were caught in the strands.

Her eyes—bright golden amber, the kind poets wrote sonnets about—stared up at the sky, unseeing and exhausted.

She was beautiful. Objectively, undeniably beautiful.

And absolutely, utterly filthy.

"Hah... hah... hah..."

Each breath made her chest rise and fall dramatically. The priestess robes, already strained by her generous proportions, pulled tight with each inhale. The neckline had torn slightly during her journey, revealing more cleavage than was probably appropriate for a woman of the cloth.

Not that she had the energy to care.

'I made it,' she thought, tears of relief prickling at the corners of her eyes. 'I actually made it alive.'

Her mind drifted back to few days ago...

"Olivia," the Saintess had said, her voice cold and dismissive. "You are being reassigned."

Olivia had looked up from the patient she'd been tending—an elderly man with a fever she'd successfully brought down. "Reassigned? But Mother Superior, I'm needed here. The villagers—"

"The villagers will manage." Saintess—Olivia's older sister, Seraphina—had cut her off sharply. "You're being sent to Millbrook Town. There's a... situation there that requires healing expertise."

Olivia's golden eyes had widened with hope. "A situation? People who need help?"

"Something like that." Seraphine's smile hadn't reached her eyes. "A carriage will take you. Some people will meet you there to explain further."

Olivia had been so excited. So hopeful. Finally, a chance to help people on a larger scale. To prove her worth outside the monastery's walls where only rich people were allowed to enter.

She'd packed immediately, said her goodbyes, and boarded the carriage with genuine enthusiasm.

That enthusiasm had lasted approximately three hours.

CRACK.

"What was that?!" Olivia had called to the driver.

"Wheel's broken, Miss!" the driver shouted back. "We're stuck!"

Olivia had peered out the window. They were in the middle of nowhere—dense forest on both sides, the road barely more than a dirt path.

"Can it be fixed?"

"Not without spare parts. Which we don't have." The driver scratched his head. "You'll have to walk the rest of the way, Miss. Millbrook's about two days on foot, that direction."

He'd pointed vaguely northeast.

"Two days?! But I don't have supplies for—"

"Sorry, Miss. Nothing I can do." The driver had already begun unhitching the horses. "Good luck!"

And he'd ridden off, leaving her standing alone on the road with nothing but her travel bag.

Walking hadn't been so bad at first.

Olivia had a good sense of direction. She'd followed the path, humming hymns to keep her spirits up.

Then the path had ended.

At a cliff.

"That's... that's not right," Olivia had muttered, looking at the sheer drop. "The map didn't show a cliff here."

She'd tried to backtrack, find another route. But somehow—impossibly—she'd ended up at the same cliff from a different angle.

"How does that even—"

Her foot had caught on a root.

"Wah—!"

TUMBLE. CRASH. ROLL. SPLASH.

Olivia had rolled down the cliffside, bouncing off rocks, tangling in bushes, before finally splashing into a river at the bottom.

She'd surfaced, gasping and sputtering, miraculously alive but thoroughly battered.

"Okay," she'd wheezed, pulling herself onto the riverbank. "Okay. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Then she'd heard the hissing.

The creature had been massive. Easily fifteen feet long, with jaws that could snap her in half.

It had emerged from the water slowly, yellow eyes fixed on her with predatory intent.

"N-Nice crocodile," Olivia had whispered, backing away slowly. "Good crocodile. I don't taste good, I promise—"

SNAP.

The jaws had lunged.

Olivia had screamed and ran.

What followed was the most undignified chase of her life. Running through mud, tripping over logs, her robes getting caught on thorns. The crocodile had been relentless, chasing her for what felt like hours.

Finally, desperately, Olivia had cast a healing spell.

On the crocodile.

It had been the only magic she knew—healing. So she'd healed the creature of every minor ache and pain it had, flooding it with so much regenerative energy that it had become confused and sluggish.

Then she'd run.

And run.

And run.

Olivia lay on the ground at the edge of Millbrook Town, staring up at the sky.

Slowly, she raised one arm, placing it dramatically across her forehead.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

She bit her rosy pink lip, tasting dirt and her own exhaustion.

"I... I just wanted to help people," she whispered to no one.

All her life, she'd been isolated in the monastery. Overshadowed by her talented sister. Told she wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't important enough.

But she had one gift—healing magic. Strong, reliable healing magic.

And all she'd ever wanted was to use it to help others.

"Did she know?" Olivia asked the sky quietly.

Her golden eyes shifted, focusing on something in the distance.

The Tower.

Even from here—miles away across fields and forest—she could see it. Impossibly tall, dark, ominous. It glowed with a faint purple light that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.

Everyone knew about the Tower. The dungeon that had appeared seemingly overnight. The source of monsters, abilities, power, and death.

"Did she know and send me here to die?" Olivia's voice cracked slightly.

The pieces fit too well. The sudden reassignment. The broken carriage. The lack of anyone meeting her as promised. Her sister had always resented her, but... would she really...?

Olivia closed her eyes, more tears leaking out.

She'd been so hopeful. So eager to finally be useful. To help people.

And instead, she'd been sent on what was essentially a suicide mission.

"I survived a cliff fall and a crocodile attack," Olivia muttered, a hysterical laugh bubbling up. "At this point, what are a few dungeon monsters?"

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