Wizards Always Love Succubi

On the way back from the shop to the inn, Marvin tried to maintain basic social etiquette, but he never initiated a conversation.

Miss Wuke, on the other hand, seemed quite interested in Marvin.

"Mr. Rodhart, while checking the account books, I noticed that both the sales volume and revenue of the shop's spell scrolls have risen sharply over the past few days.

"The increase in revenue is easy to understand. The adventurers in town have all come down with 'save the lady knight syndrome.' They want to charge into Cloakwood Forest and complete Duchess Belin's mission. Demand for spell scrolls has risen, so naturally their prices have gone up as well.

"But the increase in sales volume is strange. I have regular scroll suppliers, and their monthly deliveries are fixed."

Miss Wuke paused briefly, her azure eyes, like a clear summer day, sweeping over Marvin.

"Then Borey told me that he had found a highly talented young man who could supply a large number of spell scrolls every day."

"I'm a mage of the Scribes Guild. I have certain advantages when it comes to copying scrolls. That's all," Marvin explained.

His identity was no secret. When the previous owner of this body had lived in town, he had often complained about his last job at the dinner table.

"It's not merely 'that's all.' I carefully examined the spell scrolls you made. Although they are all first-circle scrolls, and most belong to the abjuration school, I can tell that your fundamentals are exceptionally solid.

"Every word on the scrolls is perfectly standardized, the strokes are uniform in thickness, and the characters are arranged neatly. As a result, the magical flow throughout each scroll is remarkably stable and smooth.

"Scrolls of such high quality might not even be produced by fourth- or fifth-circle mages who have spent decades immersed in the arcane arts.

"One day, you will certainly grow into an outstanding mage."

Fortunately, her bizarre bald head helped a great deal. Otherwise, Marvin might truly have been carried away by the beautiful woman's endless praise.

After tossing out a few perfunctory replies, Marvin led Miss Wuke back to his room at the Whispering Creek Inn.

The moment she entered, Miss Wuke looked around. After a moment, she nodded in satisfaction. "The room is nice, and it's kept very clean.

"A tidy and disciplined person may not necessarily be an excellent mage. But an excellent mage must certainly be tidy and disciplined. Only sorcerers who cast by feeling would turn their homes into a complete mess."

Uh...

Marvin had noticed that among Faerûn's spellcasters, sorcerers and mages looked down on each other more severely than anyone else.

Sorcerers believed they possessed superior bloodline talents. They could lie around and still level up and grow stronger, far more carefree than mages, those miserable test-taking grinders who constantly competed with one another.

Mages believed that the arcane was a beautiful and profound discipline, the great path to understanding the nature of the world. As researchers of the arcane, they considered themselves intellectually superior to practitioners of every other profession.

Those sorcerers' spellcasting abilities were nothing more than instinct. There was no essential difference between them and dragons breathing fire or trolls regenerating.

In Faerûn, discrimination was everywhere—not only discrimination between professions, but also racial and religious discrimination.

As an "outsider," Marvin felt it was better to keep his opinions on such matters to himself.

To change the subject and ease the awkwardness, he asked, "Would you like something to drink, Miss Wu... Miss Zorana?"

"Iced lemonade will do. Go easy on the sugar."

Marvin nodded, walked to the corner of the room, opened the pipe cover, and called into it, "Two glasses of iced lemonade, one-third sugar."

At more upscale inns, the owners used magical devices to provide the equivalent of Earth's in-room telephone service.

But at the middle-class Whispering Creek, this crude method was the only cheaper substitute.

Before long, a waiter brought the lemonade to the room.

Miss Wuke picked up her glass. A wisp of magic seeped from her fingertips and flowed into the lemonade.

Only then did she take a sip with ease.

Marvin noticed the small gesture.

Either she was exceptionally cautious, like him.

Or she had grown up in a dangerous environment and had no choice but to remain vigilant at all times. Even if she had merely decided on a whim to drink a glass of lemonade, she still had to use magic to check whether it was poisoned.

Marvin guessed it was the latter.

After all, the brutality of Red Wizard society was unique throughout Faerûn.

Miss Wuke set down her glass, her long, fair fingers tracing circles around its rim as she looked at Marvin. "Mr. Rodhart, the Infennar Family has always valued young mages with potential like you.

"If you are willing to serve the family, I can offer you extremely generous terms."

Miss Wuke raised a jade-like finger, and a scroll carrying the scent of sulfur appeared in her hand.

"As long as you agree to join the Infennar Family, I will give you this [Succubus Oathbind] scroll. You will gain a powerful subordinate and a perfect companion."

Marvin had heard that after most mages mastered sixth-circle spells, the first thing they did was get themselves a succubus servant.

After grinding away in the magical world for decades, finally achieving success and becoming a high-level mage, shouldn't they enjoy themselves a little?

With a succubus as a bedmate, they could play however they wanted—or be played however they wanted.

No mortal woman could compare.

Among mages, bawdy stories and jokes about succubi were endless. That alone showed how powerfully these lower-plane creatures attracted mages.

The ancestor of the Infennar Family had once been the chief of the Red Wizards' conjuration school. He possessed a unique secret art for summoning and commanding fiends.

Though much of that secret art had been lost, it remained the trump card that allowed the Infennar Family to establish itself on the Sword Coast.

The [Succubus Oathbind] scroll Miss Wuke had produced had no usage requirements. Even an ordinary person could use it to obtain a succubus servant.

But Marvin would not be blinded by such enormous temptation on the surface.

During the Thay civil war, Nie Rong, who excelled at fiend summoning, had ultimately stumbled in the field he knew best. That showed the Infennar Family's secret summoning arts were not entirely safe either.

Even if she was completely sincere and had not tampered with the [Succubus Oathbind] scroll, Marvin would not add risk to his life merely for physical pleasure.

"I'm sorry, Miss Zorana, but please allow me to decline this very tempting offer." Marvin shook his head. "I am willing to maintain a good cooperative relationship with the Infennar Family, but I do not wish to be bound by family affairs."

Miss Wuke was not surprised by his answer.

"In that case..." She put away the scroll, still wearing her captivating smile. "Then I have a task that requires your help."

"I'm only a level-two mage. I hope the task won't be too difficult."

"It is merely an herb-gathering task. Eight miles east of town lies a place called Blue Creek Valley. After the Second Sundering, the magical power there became unusually dense.

"The druids of the Emerald Enclave established an outpost there. They monitor the fluctuations in magical power while cultivating various alchemical plants for the magic shops in town.

"However, five days ago, the druids at that outpost withdrew to their main camp in Sharp Tooth Forest. Before leaving, they sent word that the herb gardens in Blue Creek Valley could be freely used by the town's residents.

"I need you to gather twenty portions of acorn truffles, twenty portions of mugwort, and ten portions of weaving moss."

After Miss Wuke finished speaking, Marvin's quest panel refreshed with new information.