"Let your Crown take the form of one of these works of iron, forged in everlasting fire."

He gestures to a set of three weapons set out before him: an axe, a twisted dagger, and a very weird-looking sword.

Oh!! Oh yes!! Excited crown.

"May you wield them well, Promised Liberator."

She lets her crown choose between the three, and after some dithering it settles on the dagger, first absorbing it and then swirling into her hand as a perfect replica of its wicked-looking curves.

This isn't permanent, right?

It assures her that it is not. Switching weaponforms takes a moment's peace and concentration, and is best done where one is not likely to be interrupted, but besides those constraints it's a trivial act. From now on they can choose freely between sword and dagger.

With the choice made, the vendor(?) sweeps his other wares(?) away.

"Forged in eternal flame, sharpened on the stone wet with blood. They seek destruction as their nature demands. Can the same be said of yourself?"

And isn't that an uncomfortable fucking question.

"You have your Followers, and I my weapons," the stranger says serenely. "One must find comfort and power where they can."

How about she LEAVES and DOESN'T THINK ABOUT THIS. How about that.

It's pretty obvious, when she comes to the big red door covered in eyes, what it's doing there and what's on the other side.

She was hoping for a chance to try out her new dagger before this point, but alas.

She takes a deep breath, and steps through.

Yes. This is it.

There's a long stone-paved corridor first, which she tries not to let psych her out too much with its resemblance to other long stone-paved corridors she has walked toward unpleasant encounters with Bishops.

The decor is very menacing, all spikes and spears and bleeding skulls.

Leshy is waiting amid a circle of devoted worshippers. There must be a dozen of them.

His presence is intense but not overwhelming; the Red Crown can still function here.

"I grow tired of you, little Lamb," he says. "Time to put an end to this FRIVOLOUS MASQUERADE!"

Of his followers, the inner ring—five robed figures, each stood at one point of a complex symmetric figure in the floor—all glow red about the eyes. Torrents of blood, or something like blood, depart their bodies and home in on Leshy, who looks exultant insofar as it is possible for a bandaged leaf orb with no limbs or facial features to look exultant. He twitches, then writhes, then his twiglike horn-things grow into full leafy branches, and he erupts out of his robe and his body into the absolutely gigantic form of a leafy worm the size of several entire fucking houses. The outer ring of followers is casually obliterated in the course of the transformation.

Whatever was once beneath his bandages, his face now consists of one gaping toothy gullet big enough to swallow the Lamb whole with room for six more, and four glaring red eyes, two on either side. The diamond-eyed crown still perches comically atop the whole business.

He lets out an utterly unearthly screech.

FUCK OKAY IT'S TIME TO FIGHT THAT

She fights that.

It's by far the most harrowing battle she's ever faced, despite the crown's new dagger form being lightning-fast in her hands. Leshy's new head is big enough to hollow out and use as a room to sleep in, and despite the urgency of the situation she is still continually boggled and alarmed by this. Also, its speed aside, the dagger really has less reach than she'd prefer for fighting such an enormous opponent, and she has to spend waaaaay more time than she's comfortable with getting really, really up close and personal with the enormous monster's leafy trunk.

But in the end she prevails. The monster goes down, ravaged by her curses, cut and cut and cut and cut again by her tireless blade.

She stands over the wreckage of his body, exhausted and triumphant.

—hang on, is something twitching in there?

She leans in for a closer look, and her crown happily pockets the toothy, veiny, unpleasantly pulsing heart buried deep in the mess. Delicious!

...delicious???

Oh yes! It will be so tasty! They should head home right away so the crown can devour it properly at the altar in the temple.

...sure. Fine. Okay. Home.

The enormous door at the back of the chamber, chained shut six different ways, bursts apart at the slightest brush of her crown's power. She steps through it and lets her crown sweep her away to—please let it not be Chained God Surprise—

"Leshy fell before you like a grain of sand before a tidal wave," it says, waving its arms in celebration.

Okay, now they can go home.

A circle of delighted followers awaits her at home, standing around the big stone circle where she arrives. They smile and dance happily in celebration of her victory.