“What kind of person is Dorothy?”
Upon hearing Rita’s question, Cecilia, for once, revealed a rare pensive expression.
“She became a Magister at a very young age. Afterwards, she kept furthering her studies and finally became a Royal Magister—meaning a Magister who can conduct her own research with the backing of the royal family, as long as she shares her results with them in the end.
Cold, arrogant, disinterested in interacting with others—it’s as if she was born with eyes that look down on everyone else. But her strength truly allows her to do so; she really does deserve to be called a genius.”
“As for the rest… I honestly don’t know, since nobody truly understands her, right? From beginning to end, she’s always been alone. She doesn’t seek advice from anyone else, nor does she share her research. She just does things none of us know about, but she also follows orders.
If I had to summarize, I’d say unless something exceptional happens, you’d never get involved with her, and wouldn’t want to either. And if you did, you’d always feel a bit uneasy.”
For some reason, Rita suddenly recalled Cecilia’s earlier evaluation of Dorothy from their casual chats.
So, does this mean I’ve already gotten involved with Dorothy?
Rita pondered this as she stared intently at Dorothy, who stood in front of her with an unchanged expression.
Dorothy closed her fingers, dispersing the swirling charm aura from Rita, making it vanish in her palm. Yet, she let out a soft “Hm?”
“Succubus?”
Rita sighed, stretching out her small wings that hadn’t moved in ages, her tail twirling once around her delicate fingertip.
“Lady Dorothy, do you intend to continue?”
“So Cecilia actually keeps this sort of thing by her side. What a surprise.” But Dorothy’s expression didn’t show a hint of being surprised. Instead, she simply observed Rita, as if searching for flaws in her expressions or movements.
Is this a psychological attack? Or is it a more physical assault?
Rita didn’t plan to answer. It was only a matter of time before her identity was exposed to Dorothy.
“I see.” Dorothy lifted her long lashes, then took out a record stone engraved with Promi’s name from her person. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Rita said nothing, but what she wanted to say had already been voiced by Dorothy.
“Because it contains recordings of you and Promi acting alone, things you don’t want others to see. So, you not only had to throw it away, but would rather risk coming here to retrieve it from me.”
Rita shot the words back at Dorothy: “Because it contains the record of how we devastated those disgusting allies of yours—something you have to know no matter what. So you’d also risk it all to get it back.”
Dorothy casually tossed the record stone to Rita. Rita caught it; that familiar coldness made her unable to let her guard down.
“Too bad—you don’t know it’s already unreadable.” Dorothy raised her eyelids.
While watching Dorothy’s movements, Rita glanced at the record stone out of the corner of her eye. The engraved magic array was missing a small piece, probably from when she dropped it from high above and accidentally broke it.
Even if she hadn’t come, Dorothy would have no way to identify her.
Tch. All that for nothing. She’d only ended up exposing herself to Dorothy.
“Oh, I see.” Dorothy suddenly tilted her head a bit. “So the one who suspects me is Cecilia, and she told you everything. But instead of investigating me, you just wanted to quietly take away a record stone that might not even exist.”
“So, Cecilia doesn’t actually know your identity, does she, little succubus hiding by her side?”
Nailed it!
Rita had no idea how Dorothy deduced that, but this woman was not to be underestimated.
In fact, Rita had known all along that the other party was formidable. She’d just been too careless herself.
“How about this: I’ll give you a chance. I’ll pretend I never saw you here, and you can leave with that broken stone. I’ll go about my business, you go about yours. If needed, I can even lend you a hand. This is your last chance.”
What you want to do is kill Cecilia, right? You’re enlisting succubi, stirring up mobs—how am I supposed to feel safe staying beside someone you have your eyes on?
Wait, something feels a bit off here?
Dorothy was going to make a move against her at first, but stopped as soon as she realized Rita was a succubus—and now she’s proposing a deal?
Is that necessary?
Even when playing games, you never agree to a draw when you’re ahead. When things go against expectation, there’s always a trick!
Either Dorothy doesn’t want to fight her, or doesn’t want to fight someone who has already shown her strength.
Or, Dorothy has something she must hide from her—like right now—forcing her to negotiate.
Even if that’s not it, Rita could hardly trust that Dorothy would really keep her promise. Playing with smart people only makes you look foolish.
But if she could manipulate a smart person, that would be just as fun.
“Lady Dorothy, aren’t you getting it backwards?”
“Hm?” Dorothy lifted her chin disdainfully.
“I can leave whenever I want, just flap my wings and go. Other succubi will take me in. But you? After everything you’ve done, you really expect humans to keep accepting you? Isn’t this your only chance to stay hidden?”
“Succubus, there’s a world of difference between our strength. Don’t overestimate yourself.” Dorothy narrowed her eyes.
If there truly was such a gap in strength, Dorothy would have thrown a fireball already. Who would waste words on someone they could easily crush?
This was it—the sense of wrongness was getting even stronger!
She just wanted to make sure Rita didn’t go out and blab. This woman was devious!
Of course, if it came to a fight, Rita wasn’t confident either—her charm aura, her greatest weapon, was useless. She honestly had no idea what else would work.
“You think your clumsy succubus magic can show off in front of me?” Dorothy’s voice grew colder. She was still threatening Rita, but it only made Rita feel like resisting was the best choice.
Being suppressed by Cecilia, forced to react passively—Rita had had enough. Now, she wanted to take the initiative back.
“Lady Dorothy, if we fight here, it’ll be quite troublesome for you, won’t it? I doubt you’ll be able to explain it to anyone else afterwards.”
Dorothy was silent for a long time, then suddenly raised her hand. A small wind blade shot toward Rita.
Rita twisted aside, but the table next to her wasn’t so lucky—it was sliced clean in two.
As Rita hesitated, Dorothy unleashed several more minor spells in quick succession, but Rita dodged them all.
So you do want to fight after all? Fine! I’ll go all out!
Bang.
Rita seized the chance, using the mental shock she’d used against the Lord of the Night before, blasting it at Dorothy. Dorothy’s movement paused for a split second, giving Rita an opening.
Her sharp claws aimed straight for Dorothy’s heart, but at the last second, she shifted them down a few centimeters.
No, she couldn’t go that far. If she could just deal her a heavy blow, maybe that would be enough?
But instead of the sensation of piercing flesh, what greeted Rita was like smashing through a tree trunk.
Her fingers went right through Dorothy’s abdomen, sending splinters of wood flying.
Actual wood splinters—Rita could even smell the scorched scent of wood heated by friction.
“Geh.”
Dorothy let out a screech no human could possibly make, then flung her arms wide and grabbed Rita’s shoulders, pinning her tightly in her embrace.
This was the first time Rita had ever physically touched Dorothy, but not the first time she’d been close with someone else.
The moment she fell into that embrace, Rita realized: those arms, that body—they were ice-cold and hard, nothing like a living human.
Looking into the gaping hole she’d ripped open, Rita saw it clearly—what she pierced wasn’t a human body, but a wooden, carved figure.
Promi had once told Rita,
“A so-called Magical Construct is a replacement for a familiar. They aren’t elemental beings, require less mana, can operate longer and do more, and can even be transferred to others. Most importantly, they are absolutely safe.”
No wonder her charm aura had no effect. No wonder this woman always wore such tight clothing, never showing any skin. All her doubts had an answer.
Rita had never considered herself strong, but she wasn’t weak either. For someone to last so long against her in succubus form—Dorothy… or rather, this Magical Construct—was truly formidable.
Just as she thought that, Rita felt the Magical Construct holding her shudder violently, the temperature of the wood rapidly rising.
Damn, does every one of these creepy things end with self-destruction?
A surge of scorching heat roared at her, turning the entire room into a sea of flames.