Chapter 616 - 616 "Love"

616 “Love”

For a moment, Flores found himself captivated by her presence. He couldn’t resist leaning in to compliment her straightforwardly, a habit common among male Feynapotterians.

“Today is my lucky day to encounter such a beautiful lady. Could I be luckier to buy you a drink?”

The woman’s eyes flickered, and a smile graced her lips. She gently shook her head, indicating that his offer wasn’t accepted.

Undeterred, Flores wanted to say more, but he noticed the woman’s expression cooling off, prompting him to retreat to his seat.

In the following moments, he alternated between stealing glances at the woman’s figure, clad in a simple shirt and slender black pants, and observing the rim of her glass, watching it touched by her moist red lips.

Flores’s body heated up, and his mouth grew dry. The more beer he drank, the harder it became to quench his thirst.

Eventually, the woman finished her light-gold Manzan, placed the tall glass on the bar counter, and gracefully left amid the soothing and elegant music.

Flores hurriedly approached, pulling out a soft tissue that had gained popularity in recent years. He wiped the edge of the wine glass, where the woman’s lips had just touched.

Then, he folded the tissue, meticulously scanning the surroundings of the bar stool. He collected a few flaxen-colored long hairs, securing them in the tissue.

Completing this task, Flores became aware of the bartender and the nearly twenty male customers around him, all staring with a shared judgmental gaze: “Pervert!”

Flores wasn’t the sole victim of the woman’s enchantment—it extended to all the men and a few women in the bar. All of them had witnessed his perverted actions.

Despite the accusatory stares, Flores kept his composure and left as if nothing had transpired.

He vowed never to return to this bar again!

Yet, he harbored no regret for his actions.

On the way back to the apartment, Flores’s heart pulsed with anticipation, fueled by the promise of gains. His pace quickened, though practicality dictated a more measured speed.

Upon reaching his residence, he drew the curtains and retrieved an old notebook with a yellowed cover from his suitcase compartment.

Inside, a mottled note held a complex vocabulary that didn’t belong to any language from the Northern Continent, accompanied by numerous instructions in Highlander.

Flores eagerly placed the tissue containing the woman’s hair and saliva on the notebook. He then took up the mottled note, reciting the intricate and peculiar words with marked pronunciation.

“Naboredisley…”

This was the love incantation Flores had chanced upon.

With the true name, date of birth, closely related items, or bodily fluids like flesh and blood, he could insert the medium in his notebook and recite the incantation seven times, compelling the target to fall irrevocably in love.

Flores had patiently waited for the opportune moment to orchestrate Pedro’s daughter, Salah, to fall and be injured. His timely aid had not only garnered gratitude but also facilitated the collection of her blood, fulfilling the conditions for the love incantation.

Reality had validated the enchanting power of the love incantation!

Flores refrained from using it again, uncertain of how to dispel its effects. If pursued by multiple women before his marriage to Salah, provoking a conflict among them could jeopardize his standing within the large family and hinder access to resources and support.

However, today was different.

She was the most captivating woman he had ever encountered. He was ready to pay any price to make her his own!

Uncertainty lingered in Flores’s mind about whether the saliva-stained tissue and the naturally fallen hair could truly serve as a medium for the love incantation, but the desire to find out overwhelmed any reservations.

Excitement and anticipation surged within him as he envisioned the possibility of witnessing such a beautiful scene, an uncontrollable smile gracing his face.

“Naboredisley…”

Flores continued reciting the love incantation with abnormal devotion and enthusiasm, his heart pulsating with desire and joy.

“Naboredisley!”

After repeating it seven times, Flores watched in amazement as the tissue and hair burst into flames, reflecting a rainbow before swiftly turning to ashes.

Success… Success! Flores couldn’t initially believe it, but immense joy struck his heart.

Surprise lingered, but Flores cared little.

What mattered was that it worked!

That captivating woman is now in love with me!

Thoughts of what would unfold next raced through Flores’s mind. He hastily closed the notebook, clipped the note, and dashed to the door without bothering to put them away.

He yearned to walk the streets, confident that the lovely person must be seeking him!

As Flores swung the door open, there she was—the woman from the bar, standing outside.

Flores’s entire being went slack under the lake-colored crystalline gaze, his balance teetering on the edge of surrender. Every fiber of his being yearned to yield.

As the woman willingly stepped into Flores’s embrace, he eagerly enveloped her in his arms, leaning in for a kiss.

Yet, the sensation he encountered was far from the warmth and softness he had imagined. Instead, it was cold and unyielding.

Wh… Flores’s surprise turned to shock as he realized he was embracing a waist-high mirror. The mirror brushed against his chest, swaying back and forth, resisting his attempts to disengage.

Flores recoiled in unnatural fear. The lingering sensations from his earlier fantasies refused to dissipate. His heart froze while his body burned.

With mounting dread, he struck the mirror with increasing force.

Finally, retreating to his suitcase, Flores delivered a decisive blow, shattering the mirror with a resounding crack.

It shattered into countless fragments, piercing Flores’s clothes, chest, stomach, and arms.

Agony surged through Flores’s body, searing his senses, snapping the fraying nerve that was already on the brink.

In that moment, he tasted a euphoria unlike any other.

Collapsing to the ground, Flores lay motionless, caught between fear, longing, anguish, and ecstasy.

…

“It can truly assist in digesting the Pleasure potion…” Franca clicked her tongue, observing the scene unfold in the mirror of the apartment diagonally opposite Flores’s room.

With her expertise, the spectacle before her could be deemed a novelty.

“I assured you I wouldn’t deceive you,” Lumian, sporting a golden straw hat, responded with a grin.

Upon accepting the commission and identifying Flores’s primary problem of inexplicably garnering the fervent affection of a stunning girl, Lumian’s initial instinct was to deploy a Demoness to test this individual.

Franca’s saliva and hair served as part of the investigation. After all, mysticism likely played a role.

Naturally, for safety precautions, Franca had treated the saliva and hair beforehand. Thus, she devised a Mirror Substitution, a dark magic of Witches, which accurately connected to them.

Now, the results were in—splendid. Franca had subjected Flores to pleasure’s torment, exposing him to the agony of chasing fleeting satisfaction.

“Curious, Flores managed to ensnare my mirror’s affection with just a single-word incantation. No ritual or supplication to any entity,” Franca mused with emotion. “Even I can’t achieve that.”

Lumian chuckled in response, remarking, “You can. No incantation or medium needed. Just unleash your charm.”

“…” Franca was taken aback. “You’re starting to resemble an Intisian. Or is this a result of your Feynapotter education?”

Pursing her lips, her gaze flickered.

Lumian continued, “There’s another issue. Pedro previously tasked two adventurers with probing Flores, but they vanished. And it appears this fellow lacks Beyonder powers.”

Franca suddenly smiled. “This is intriguing… If the Mirror Substitution failed, and I fell under the sway of that incantation, falling in love with Flores, what would you do?”

Lumian emitted a soft chuckle.

“Making someone vanish without a trace is simple. I don’t even need to lift a finger.”

Lumian was confident Ludwig could consume the fellow entirely, with counter-divination to top it off.

Without awaiting Franca’s response, Lumian headed for the door.

“I’ll pay that fellow a visit. Keep vigilant for any developments and beware of mishaps.”

“Understood,” Franca replied solemnly.

As Flores hadn’t managed to close the door in time, Lumian found the entrance accessible without the need to pry it open.

Sensing the intrusion, Flores snapped out of his daze, hastily rising to his feet.

By this point, Lumian had already picked up the notebook, unfolding it to the two pages displaying the mottled note.

“W-what are you doing?” Flores asked, horror etched across his face.

He immediately recognized Lumian.

Louis Berry? The great adventurer Louis Berry?

“Did Pedro hire you to investigate me?”

Ignoring the inquiry, Lumian walked toward the window, ushering in a gust of fresh air.

“A love incantation can make a woman fall in love with you. All you need is to obtain her true name…” Lumian began reciting the Highlander annotation on the mottled note in front of Flores. “The incantation’s pronunciation is…”

He abruptly halted without completing the recitation.

Flores’s face had already turned a sickly grayish-white, as if he could foresee the impending demise of his reputation and his capture by the Church.

“Where did this come from?” Lumian pointed at the mottled note and the old notebook.

Cold sweat broke out on Flores’s forehead, and his eyes gradually turned fierce.

Suddenly, he shouted, pronouncing the word in a rugged and awkward tone, “Naboredisley!”

This time, there was no target or corresponding medium.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian sensed his surroundings fall silent as an ominous aura rapidly enveloped the room.