Chapter 711
Alastair certainly didn’t use the Bewitching Kiss on him—not to mention that she could never accept kissing a man, and as proud as Alastair was, she simply didn’t care for a nobody who had just reached the second energy level.
Once a blood slave goes a long time without being fed upon, the desire to be fed upon intensifies.
And if they are fed upon, this state of unfulfilled craving will immediately turn into satisfaction… otherwise, it will turn into unbearable emptiness.
To compensate for this emptiness, they will even beg their master to feed on them. To this end, they will continuously pay the price, giving their master as much of their wealth as they can.
— Unless the Child of the Moon wants to use this state to severely injure him or other important people close to him; or demand that the other party make unacceptable sacrifices of wealth and body—the extent of this “unbearable” varies from person to person, related to their personal view of money and morals.
For those who are sufficiently stingy, perhaps one gold coin is unacceptable; while for some who are already dissolute, even asking the other party to earn money for them with their body will not break the Bewitching Lock.
It is not unheard of for blood slaves to wake up and escape from the Child of the Moon.
But that usually happens after the Bewitching Lock has been broken, and they suddenly realize what they have done.
However, this boy, who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, escaped his master without breaking the Bewitching Lock at all.
Alastair had never heard of such a precedent—this meant that he had been enduring extreme emptiness from not being able to satisfy his bewitchment, and this emptiness could even drive a resolute knight mad.
It is then clear why this phenomenon of his rationality being out of control has occurred.
“A blood slave without the Bewitching Lock removed?”
Alastair chuckled, and then shook her head with a hint of pity: “How dare you? Do you think you can escape?”
And this sentence, like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, struck Dimit’s heart.
In an instant, he understood many of his doubts—
Why did Paul, who was also an orphan, know so many secrets… he knew various noble surnames, while Dimit didn’t even know the name of the Lord of the City of Knowledge.
Why did Paul also know the characteristics and personalities of various noble families, and most of the black history mixed with truth and falsehood… Why was he so resistant and hateful towards those nobles, and so full of distrust.
Dimit had thought it was because Paul had spent a long time on the streets and obtained information from underground gangs.
But now he knew—the other party was actually a blood slave!
This sent a shiver down Dimit’s spine.
The Star Antimony people all knew that no matter how normal a blood slave appeared on the outside, they were actually completely monsters on the inside.
They could almost give away all their wealth for their master, and at their master’s request, they could entice or kidnap others whom their master fancied and turn them into blood slaves. Besides that, not to mention those blood slaves who killed, robbed, and defrauded for their masters… Although blood slaves would regain consciousness when their lives were threatened, this trait also made them very easy to be caught alone and silenced.
It could be said that more than half of the various turbulences in Star Antimony… were caused by various blood slaves.
Unless a Priest of the same energy level could be found to dispel this curse… or they suddenly awakened and broke free from their bonds. Otherwise, the duration of this curse would be permanent.
— But where would Star Antimony find so many Priests?
It was difficult for commoners like them to even come into contact with those few Priests. Even if they could contact a Priest, the other party might not be as strong as the Child of the Moon who cast the curse.
Even if they could find such a person—it would be difficult for people to kidnap blood slaves who were desperately resisting.
As long as their master gave them one command, “stay as far away from churches and priests as possible,” they would regard anyone trying to take them to church as an enemy intent on harming them.
Dimit hesitated subconsciously… because based on his understanding of Paul, Paul was likely already a blood slave when he met him.
But he didn’t know if the other party had become friends with him out of his own will… or if he had approached him under “his master’s orders”? How much of his actions came from his true heart? Or was he trying to use Dimit to hide his identity?
But after a brief hesitation, he still stepped forward.
He did not dare to resist the noble young lady, so he knelt down, held Paul’s shoulders, and shook his body hard: “Wake up, Paul! Wake up… do you want to feed? You can feed on me…”
Dimit had no idea what a blood slave was, and was only doing his best to help based on his limited knowledge as a poor person.
His words even amused Alastair.
“Blood slaves don’t need to feed, little one.”
The beautiful girl with long black hair, who looked a few years younger than him, chuckled lightly and then gently kicked him aside.
She used her foot to lift Paul’s chin, making his vacant pupils, which showed a glimmer of infatuation and had widened completely, focus on her.
This was already a deep state of bewitchment. It was not formed once or twice… but from long-term feeding.
“He’s just average-looking,” Alastair commented.
Of course, this was from her aesthetic perspective. Objectively speaking, this black-haired boy with a few freckles could be considered handsome… However, for Alastair, who was surrounded by handsome men and beautiful women, this was only average for students at the Seminary.
“Who is your master?” Alastair asked.
“Please feed on me, Master…” Paul murmured dazedly, not answering.
Alastair thought for a moment and changed her question: “When did you start following him?”
“Feed on me, I beg you, Master…” Paul pleaded.
Alastair raised an eyebrow, realizing what Paul intended to do.
— He could not control his bewitched state, so he wanted to cover his Bewitching Lock by “changing masters.”
“…Heh.”
She suddenly laughed: “I don’t believe it then…”
As she spoke, a card suddenly appeared between her fingers.
Dimit couldn’t see the pattern on the card clearly… but judging by its size, it seemed like a Tarot Card.
But then, the card suddenly turned into a red halo and disappeared.
Immediately, a intoxicating fragrance began to spread throughout the room.
Almost in an instant—Dimit felt his consciousness gradually melt away… the entire world seemed to be pulled away. He couldn’t distinguish what kind of fragrance this was, and the limited words in his mind could only describe it as “Damn, it smells so good.”
And in this dazed state, he vaguely heard intermittent inquiries:
“…Who… are you?”
“We are… students from the Spirit Tower.”
In contrast, Paul’s voice was clearer.
“You… are here… what are you doing…”
Hearing this question, Dimit’s heart tightened.
He vaguely realized that this question absolutely could not be answered—but he had no desire to stop the inquiry at all, nor did he wish to stop Paul’s response.
An extremely urgent desire to be rewarded and praised made him blurt out the answer: “The professor asked us to scatter the reagents into the sea in international waters.”
“Why?”
Finally, “she” turned her face towards him, and her voice instantly became clear.
It was a face that reminded him of the supreme goddess—even though he couldn’t see anything clearly, he felt that it was the ultimate beauty.
To please her, he was willing to give his all.
“We don’t know the specifics, but the professor wants us to keep it a secret. It’s said to be research on ocean currents and the migration of marine life…”
“You Necromancers also study oceanography?” The sarcastic voice sounded.
But Dimit, ashamed, could not provide any more information.
However, just then, Paul suddenly spoke: “Actually, it’s to study the accumulation of a chronic toxin that can transform living beings into Undead in the food chain.”
“—My master was involved in this experiment.”
He successfully spoke words that were detrimental to his master.
Alastair smiled with satisfaction.
She did have a way to help him resolve this state… The dispelling mode of the Flame Butterfly could serve this purpose. However, exposing her ability to dispel was not a good thing.
But in the end, wasn’t bewitchment a form of charm?
What charm could compare to a genuine “Charm Aura”?
—Under the cover of a true Succubus aura, these weak forms of charm would be instantly destroyed and dissolved!
(End of Chapter)
