Medon groaned, slowly opening her eyes. Where was she? Why was she--
She let out a shriek and punched the creep standing over her with a strange, glowing stick in his hand. To her surprise, he went flying across the room and slammed into the wall, before crumbling to the ground. “W-what? What happened? Where am I? I-is he okay?”
There were at least three more of them. She couldn’t lie, they were cute, though they looked like they were a part of some cosplayer group. In weird robes, with pointy ears. She, unfortunately, was lying on a strange stone table in the middle of a bunch of strange runes that she didn’t understand.
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The other three stared at her alarm for a few moments. Slowly, one of the three moved to check on the one she had punched. He muttered some strange words and caused a green light to appear over the man. The wounded man groaned, but was alive.
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This wasn’t her body. This was DEFINITELY not her body. She stared down at herself, nervously patting her chest, her hips, her arms. She was… muscular. Toned. Not an ounce of fat on her. She looked more like a body builder than who she had been.
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Rendel sighed and motioned the others away. Unlike her, they could leave the circle. “Please, Medon, if you calm yourself all will be explained. This is a trying time for us all. But please understand we will help you however we can. If you will just calm yourself.”
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For the first time, the man went from calm to alarmed. “Ex… cuse me? Can you say that again?”
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Rendel stared at her before taking a slow, deep breath. “Medon, dear hero. It is your name. I am sorry to have to do this to you, but it seems calming yourself is not something you will do willingly. There is much I need to explain to you.”
She still couldn’t move, all she could do was stand there and listen.
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Medon felt whatever held her loosen slightly. She gave a nod and he released her from the spell. “O… kay then. Of the what dynasty?”
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Rendel paused, staring at her. “You… haven’t? Did… did you not just achieve a great victory?”
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“Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
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Then they dropped.
She DEFINITELY would have screamed if she could when suddenly monsters surrounded her on all sides, tearing through lines of elves, dwarves, all manner of strange creatures she couldn’t identify. But passing through her, as if she wasn’t even there. She could hear it, see it, even smell the blood. But nothing touched her. A powerful illusion spell.
A moment later she was back in the room and she could move again. But she didn’t want to. All she did was sink to the ground and stare at him. “W-what… is this place?” she asked.
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Rendel stared down at her a few more moments before a smile formed on his lips. Gently, he knelt out and stroked a hand through her hair, making her cringe. His eyes glimmered and, for a moment, she felt her body change.
She couldn’t properly explain it. She supposed she was smaller, her hair longer, her body softer. But most of all it was that strange feeling of being right. Not just looking, but feeling like a woman. It was euphoric and it almost made her want to cry.
Then it was gone. The illusion snatched away before she could truly appreciate it. “W-what?” Medon asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “T-turn me--”
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Medon froze, staring up at him. Very slowly, she nodded. “And… you want me to save your world? If I agree, then you’ll turn me into a woman?”
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Medon gulped and slowly lowered her eyes. “But… if I do this… you will make me a woman?”
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Medon took a deep breath before, very softly, speaking up. “My name is Medon and… I’m… a warrior from… another world.”
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Phaedra glanced up and let out a startled bleat, her wool growing out around her in a thick ball again. Yroth looked furious, small flakes of ash and flame popping out from between her fangs with every breath. Her eyes were glowing a brilliant gold and her claws had gouged deep holes into the bed. “I-I didn’t--”
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Phaedra gulped and lifted a hand to her throat while her wool retracted. She was quite thankful she knew she wasn’t lying, because she would certainly NOT want to be the target of Yroth’s ire right now. “I… uhhhh… guess I should start packing for the journey, huh? We can take my airship.”
Yroth stared at her for a moment. “Your… airship?”
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Even if she was a lot angrier now than ever. She just hoped the dragon would stay mad NOT at her.