The Art of the Curse

Demoness of Pleasure...

Hvin Rambis fell silent. There was no confusion in his blue eyes, only the wisdom of someone who understood everything.

Ever since the mysterious Miss whose beauty had become a topic of conversation in Backlund's upper social circles entered his sight, Hvin had suspected that her strange allure was not natural, but the result of some Beyonder Ability.

Now that it had been confirmed, all he felt was a sense of I knew it.

Of course, if Christine Teresa had not interfered with his plan to ruin Baron Cinderas, he would not have cared about this Demoness who threw herself into dinners and balls, frequently mingling with nobles and wealthy merchants. After all, the royal family had a degree of cooperation with the Demoness Sect, and the Psychology Alchemists had covered up plenty of the royal family's dirty deeds. They could be considered part of the same camp.

Did one casual attempt at shallow hypnosis just happen to land on a Demoness of Pleasure who could stir men's desires, setting off that bomb of desire ahead of time?

He thought this with a touch of self-mockery, but did not take Stephen Hampres's account entirely on faith. Instead, he began asking about every detail of Hampres's conversation with Audrey Hall.

Meanwhile, deep within Hampres's mind, as he concentrated on his account and answered the occasional question, a flight of stone steps gradually emerged from the seabed and rose toward the surface of a world made up of a sky of spirituality and a great sea of consciousness. Hvin Rambis, dressed in a shirt, waistcoat, and trousers, strode up the steps, crossed the distance almost in flashes, and stepped onto the island that represented Hampres's consciousness.

Compared with the deep, dark sea of the subconscious, the island of conscious