Erotic Dungeon
Iron hangs loosely on your shoulders. It was once a chestplate— no more than a joke in front of steel. Caved in by blunt weapons, scratched by arrows, and unbound by swords penetrating the gaps, it somehow kept you alive. You soundlessly discard whatever is left of it with a tug and remain close to the soil, hidden in thick grass. Keeping your head down, you use your sword's broken blade to learn of any movements. There are wounds on your chest, where swords met flesh, and your left arm is...
Fantasy